#a dinosaur might be certain...

[blackout-articles]

[clochanamarch]

i have a very important headcanon question: is the tattoo colored in or is it just the black and white outline?

it's just the black outline, but it's v obvious, it's about two inches in width and length, and because new york is very hot during the summer she's been wearing vests, so the tattoo has become the subject of much intrigue and curiosity. so far though, nobody has actually figured out the real reason behind it. laszlo started a rumor that she's actually trying to bring the dinosaurs back. maeve, fatin, eli and inej are the only ones in the apartment who don't believe him.

[knuppitalism-with-ue]

Ok, another Mexidracon thread because I find this critter just fascinating. In our latest stream I tried to illustrate my point further by showing the proposed sediment probing behavior I assume for this animal.

I did the image on the left on stream but I wasn't that happy with the background so i did the second version above. Again, I don't think these arms were made for fishing, it's arms don't appear flexible or powerful enough to grab or spear fish.

It's relatively short legs also might hint at an overall slower locomotion style, like wading through shallow water, something that would have been abundant in its coastal/deltic environment...

Something that I also let influence this reconstruction is a certain specimen of Ornithomimus which shows traces of feathers on the forearm but NOT of the metacarpals. This might mean that the primaries were just smaller but for the purpose of this reconstruction I went with naked hands... (artwork by Julius Csotonyi)

In this last quick doodle I wanted to show the way I imagine these guys going after invertebrates. This of course assumes many things. Like, that the interpretation of the original authors of this fossil is correct; that the rest of the animal was rather "normal" for an ornithomimosaur or that these limbs had a practical use at all. Another thing that is of course possible is that these arms actually were display structures, very colorful, maybe fully feathered. But I personally prefer the sediment probing idea for now and would avoid yet another display function case.

I hope we find some more specimens in the near future and I would love to see some more takes on this animal. It's been a while since I thought about a new dinosaur this much.

[whereserpentswalk]

Personal property is illegal.

It's been that way for years. Nobody is allowed to own anything. The war on personal property started with the war on piracy combining with the war on drugs. Personally property finally became illegal when the Supreme Court™ ruling that declared that corporations were people was elaborated upon, and it was decided that individual citizens legally weren't people, and thus constitutional rights only applied to corperate entities. Now it's so commen that most people find the idea of owning something to be either alien or disgusting.

Everyone lives in rented homes. Their clothing and furniture is useally rented, but if they want to have it personally they can have a personal license to use it (though some conditions apply). It's pretty convenient, the computer company owns your computer so they'll fix it for you. Your clothing doesn't need to hold up for that long if you're just renting it, at the small cost that it can't be modified. And when you wear out your toothbrush, it's likely you already have a perception for the toothbrush company.

Food is a bit more complicated. You don't own the food you eat, you just own a license to eat it. This does mean, that if you missuse it somehow you have to pay whoever sold you the food extra. Though repaying debts is easy, as any purchase made with FedCoin™ is saved to the blockchain. Restaurants force people to vomit their meal back up if they kick someone out. And there are certain things you aren't allowed to do with the food you own. You're especially never allowed to share it, or serve it to someone who didn't buy it.

Children learn first with their toys that they don't own what they have. The box for every Dinosaur™ Baby Doll™ and Action Figure™ they play with states proudly that they aren't buying a toy, they're buying a license to play with it. So they understand. Children learn from their parents and teachers that they should never break their toys, they'll have to pay the toy company for damages. And they learn never to share, that they have the license to play with their toys but not to give them to other children. They learn that sharing is something dangerous and bad people do.

If you need any organ transplants or artifical organs then you don't own the organs or machines inside of you. Most people can only ever afford to rent there. If you pay the medical company every month your pace maker will work perfectly, and of course if you don't pay for a month, it shuts off like anything else in the world that doesn't serve a company's bottom line. And with new LGBTQIA+ and LGBTQIA free with ads services, anyone can get bottom surgery if they want, they just need to be prepared for pain if they can't continue to afford their new genitals. (Pro tip for anyone worried about their genitals getting repossessed, if you were able to get a womb transplant, get pregnant if you think you won't be able to pay on a month, they can't legally remove your genitals if it means harming a fetus).

And of course, it's quite easy to censor media now. They don't need to outlaw anything, just have the companies decide they don't want to sell you something anymore. Books don't need to be banned when they're all the property of some big online retailers, they just need to be recalled, or no longer available to rent. With the new Haze Code™ technology you don't even need to pull a film with one or two problematic from streaming, it's enough to just remove whatever element can't be shown from modern audiences. And it's like the original cut doesn't exist. They can even go after individuals if they say the wrong thing, if someone makes unfortunate comments about the war on Mars, or about the rights on genetically engineered organisms, they might find a lot of the things in their house to be reclaimed by their owners, as they've violated the terms of service, and it'll be a lot harder to get replacements, as companies don't want to be known to sell to certain kinds of people.

The bill of rights sure is a thing, but there's no need for the government to want to violate it when everything is owned by companies who are so happy to go along with their interests. No need to violate the first ammendment when a company owns every means of communication. No need to violate the second ammendment when a weapon will lock up if someone is deemed dangerous whose using it. No need to violate the fourth when everything the state would want to search is owned by those who would let them search it. And if someone's in enough debt, or is afraid of the wrong thing getting repossessed, the thirteenth can even melt away.

Of course, their are secret places where people still own things. The first object most people will ever truly own will be the illegal drugs they buy on the street, or the pirated movies they download onto their computer. There are computers and robots that have been modified to serve only the person who uses them, and have no loyalty to those who made them, and such things can access websites where far more things are treated. Deep into the hearts of cities, where suburban families find it too scary to go, you'll find markets in abandoned building where art owned by their artists are sold, and clothing made to last is sold to their wearer, and food grown in community gardens in shared. The companies call it piracy, and both parties call it tyranny, because it scares them. If you own the world, nothing will scare you more then losing the smallest peice of it.

[avid-corvid]

In honor of ghost files’ spirit week, I have made a cryptid!! Kinda bummed that I’m not good at drawing, but I’m still proud of the idea! Here it is:

My cryptid is called the bone spider.

Living deep in the Appalachian mountains, they present themselves as a mixture of bones put together, held by fleshy strings. Typically having eight legs and a main body. BUT not all spiders are the same. The reason as to why is because they don’t actually have bones themselves, they are fleshy sacs that wriggle around on eight limbs. They steal the bones from certain dead animals and attach it onto themselves to give themselves better support, hence the name, bone spiders. Since they can pick and choose their bones, they can be up to 5 feet tall/wide (the largest recorded bone spider was the size of a large elk)

They aren’t completely dangerous, if you encounter one in the wild, just stay calm and don’t make sudden movements that might scare them, and you’ll be fine. If they are cornered, then they will defend themselves.

When threatened, they vibrate their bones together, sometimes to the point of cracking. Which mimics a noise similar to a rattle snake, just deeper and slower.

When defending itself, it oozes an acidic fluid that, when in contact with skin, can create second degree burns and rashes on the skin. Pair this with it slashing a particularly sharp bone, can lead the fluid to get into your blood stream. When this happens, death is imminent.

It is best to avoid this creature. Though it isn’t hard to, due to the fact that they live so far away from society, tucked into the oldest mountain range in the world. Maybe they came from a time before isopods and dinosaurs roamed the earth, they might be the key to a life unknown by earth’s earliest creatures. Or maybe they’re just little fleshy dudes who like bones, who knows.

That’s my creation!! I’ve always had a love for Appalachian based mountain creatures since the Appalachias are the oldest mountain range in the world, they were around when Pangea still existed!! (Can you tell I love geography?)

My thought process was basically, “what’s the freakiest animal you can make out of bones”

Anyways hope yall like it!

[a-suspicious-number-of-ducks]

Hermit-a-Day May, day 18: JoeHills. Today's style/medium is puppet-making! Or mostly sewing with a few other things thrown in. I had a ton of fun with this one, even though it took...so much time to make. I usually explain why I chose a certain medium but this one is...pretty self-explanatory, I think. If you have any Joe clips you want to see a puppet show of, send them my way! Details, materials, and a couple more pictures under the read more.

Materials: this pattern by Abby Glassenberg and all of its required components (minus the eyes), googly safety eyes from Amazon, baby clothes from a local thrift store, and white fabric paint.

I was originally going to try to get doll clothes to dress the Juppet in, since I didn't want to sew the outfit from scratch, but couldn't find any that were quite right. After a couple unfruitful trips into stores, I stopped by a local children's thrift store and poked around their newborn and preemie section until I found an orange onesie and gray jacket/cardigan that were close enough to the right colors. I know the jacket on Joe's skin is probably a hoodie, given the pocket placement, but surprisingly, few people seem to be manufacturing hoodies for newborn babies. Once I got home, I hacked off the bottom of the orange onesie, hemmed it, and painted the at symbol on the back with fabric paint. The front (now back) still says "daddy's mighty guy" with a picture of two dinosaurs on it and that amuses me greatly.

The puppet pattern itself was a little tricky, and there were a couple spots that I think could have used some more explanation, but I made it through. In hindsight, I wish I'd used bigger eyes, but I couldn't find safety eyes (the kind that pokes through the fabric and gets secured with a washer) in a larger size and the style I wanted, and I didn't want to just glue regular googly eyes on because I was worried it wouldn't be sturdy enough (and the edges might look messy). I ended up having to hot glue the felt pieces to the inside of the mouth, even though the pattern recommended normal craft glue for that part, because it would not stick no matter what I did. If I were to make the pattern again, I'd probably try to sew the roof of the mouth and tongue pieces onto the pink felt before attaching it to the head, rather than gluing them on after.

Honestly, there are a lot of things I would do differently if I were to make another puppet, but I'm pretty proud of how this one turned out, especially for my first time doing something like this! I just. have a Juppet in my house now. I don't know how to feel about this. I know this is a pretty complicated piece, so if you have any additional questions, feel free to message me (or send an ask, or reply to this post, or send the message by carrier pigeon--whatever floats your boat).

[ablobwhowrites]

Still in my transformers brain rot and thinking about transformers but with a y/n cybertronian researcher who loves to learn about new species and gets so happy about learning about humans cause they/he never saw one before and wants to know every single detail of human history and humans today. Bro gets over excited when they/he finds out about dinosaurs existed in the planet but doesn't know they are extinct (y/n got to excited and wanted to find one but ends up finding out they are now just fossils. But doesn't stop bro from documenting it in their/his data pad) plus I like to think you love to yap about certain topics they have documented in the past (they/he has been yapping about a the different kind of astroids for 10 hours now) and think of them/him being a absolutely nerd about new things to learn to the point bro is taking in to much knowledge for anyone to know.

Plus Im working on some dandys world stuff and some other things I'm working on and going to release soon so look out for that and plus I'm still doing yandere transformers cause I still love transformers.

(also I'm thinking about just not doing the m/n name for fics and change it to male y/n so it's more convenient and maybe more helpful for me to write but I don't know. I might do it for the next fic, shitpost or head canon stuff so yeah but let me know your opinion on it but that's all. Also hope you like the new y/n cause they/he is very silly but anyways see y'all later and stay healthy.)

[i-draws-dinosaurs]

Would any dromaeosaurs have likely had bald heads like turkey vultures?

It's certainly possible, and I'd go so far as to say quite likely!

We do have some fossil evidence for dromaeosaurs with feathered heads:

Image sources: Tianyuraptor, Sinornithosaurus, Daurlong, Microraptor.

As for the rest though, we don't have a clear fossil of a bald-headed dromaeosaur! To be certain, we'd probably need to find specific impressions of naked skin around the head, which to my knowledge has not been found yet.

The feathered fossils above belong to either small (right side) or medium-sized (left side) dromaeosaurs, so it indicates that any dromaeosaurs up to a Velociraptor-type size certainly could have had feathered heads.

That being said, the level of head feathering is very variable in modern birds even within the same group. Some vultures have bald heads which may help with cleaning their faces and heat regulation, but there's much wider variation than you might expect! Even just within the clade Aegypiinae, we've got:

Image sources: hooded, griffon, red-headed, lappet-faced, white-headed, cinereous.

There's a whole range from nearly full plumage to fully naked skin folds to Justin Timberlake Ramen Hair, and I'd say there's no reason to think that dromaeosaurs and other feathered dinosaurs couldn't have had the same level of variation between species!

It's the kinda situation where in the absence of direct evidence, I'd consider varying levels of head baldness in dromaeosaurs as pretty reasonable speculation! So here's a Deinonychus decked out with a variety of different styles that are within the realms of possibility:

And that's not even taking into account that in a lot of bald-headed birds that skin space is prime real estate for all sorts of flippy flappy dangly bits and colours and lumps and bumps.

So basically, it's not like we can point at any particular dromaeosaurs and be like "that one probably had a bald head", but unless there's contrary evidence I feel it's very likely there was a lot of variation in how feathery the head was!

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

DarkLord. DarkLord what does Maurice think about the Jurassic Park debacle. Please tell me I gotta know. Do they tag along to watch. Does it happen on the one day they decide to take a break from their favorite show and go check in on some other spawn. Do they try to help or just watch in horrorified fascination as Shifty and Stan fight dinosaurs. Please tell me

Also also. How disgusted do they and Stan get about Emma-May making the dinosaurs part shifter

Hmm..... let me think....

I almost always operate by 'rule of funny' so the funniest thing for me is if Maurice is spying on the day Stan's going in to tour the dino park. They can't miss a special episode of 'Stan's life' after all, but they also can't let Stan see them. So they're upstairs, pretending to be one of the scientist or something when the whole place goes on lock down and they watch all the screens Fiddleford is frantically pulling down (Fiddleford only agreed to help Emma-May with her project to help manage his robo mania and to try and mend bridges so that there's less fighting over Tate. This ruins that attempt).

Thankfully both of the shapeshifters that could have called Maurice out for being there are downstairs when the whole thing goes down. Not so thankfully they are both downstairs, and Maurice watches them both throw secrecy out the window in the name of punching and beating up every dinosaur they come across. There is no horror movie anymore (except for the fact that Shifty and Stan are horror monsters) just a straight comedy of attempted horror that gets instantly smashed as both shifters beat up everything that wants to try. Stan's only marginally more subtle about it, trying to avoid dinos when possible, but he's still very much on camera shapeshifting.

They are holding their head in their hands. Its a nightmare scenario, and then they're scrambling to delete all the tapes in such a way that no one finds it suspicious. Which involves just straight burning/ destroying everything. So Emma-May doesn't get to watch her babies get syruped on repeat.

On the flip side, it is the first and maybe only time that Maurice willingly shows up, forces everyone involved to sit in the living room, and does the Maurice equivalent of yelling at them. Which doesnt involve yelling, but is just them listing out what they saw (Shapeshifting on camera, stolen DNA, stolen DNA used to modify dinosaurs without telling anyone, dinosaurs that caused havoc and nearly escaped) and what future consequences of those actions might be (Hunted down, experimented on, stolen stolen DNA used to create shapeshifter hybrid armies, shapeshifting dinosaurs on the loose) then list what they are going to do about it if any of those consequences happen(Lock down, they will ruin everyone's life. they will take Shifty away. they will take Stan away. They will bring the full might of their circle down on this house and strip it of anything shifter related. Stan might be versatile, but Maurice is very old, and has contacts and favors they will use to make sure Stan can't see Ford for the next decade. If Emma-May tries anything like this again, they will make her disappear).

Then they are there. they are in the house, watching everyone. They are not leaving, and everyone's going to know about them watching their every move, until they disappear without a word. Then they are watching them from the trees, and they are mailing detailed descriptions of what certain members of the house (Emma-May) have been doing when no ones seen them. This is a threat.

Stanley is very upset with Emma-May over the whole dino DNA modification. So upset, she looses her bug body viewing privileges. Its devastating for her. At this point Stan's barely comfortable with getting the whole arm bugged, she hasn't seen the rest of him, and Shifty's form just doesnt have the same mysterious appeal. Stan might look different! They don't know! The colors already don't match, what else!

I need you to imagine Emma-May, kneeling with a boom box outside of Stan's window here. Thats the immediate effects of the dino incident. Like a break up, but its a scientist and the bug they want to study under a microscope but has person hood and rights. Stan's going moss already, clinging to Fords chest and making him wheeze as he shakes his head at Emma-May through the window for hurting Stan's feelings and making Ford suffer for it.

[pianokantzart]

I’m curious as to what changes they’ll be making when adapting Super Mario World as a film. Btw we’re totally gonna get a Mama Luigi arc calling it now.

I’m almost certain it’s not going to be a one-to-one adaptation given how much The Super Mario Bros. Movie strayed from the source material in terms of plot, so I’m also very curious what new things they might add or alter.

Right now, there are only 3 things I absolutely want based off the original game:

1. Mario, Luigi, and Yoshi going on a journey together as the central focus

2. The Koopalings (I’m not holding my breath since they were strangely absent from Mario Bros. Wonder and Mario Kart World promotional material, but I maintain a sliver of hope!)

3. A ghost house (or any sort of setting that will properly introduce Boos as a concept. Bonus points if they rope in King Boo himself in some sort of a side plot.)

As much as I would love to see Mama Luigi, I’m banking on only a 50% chance of it actually happening. While baby yoshis do hatch from eggs, grown yoshis can be imprisoned inside of egg shells, like the OG Yoshi was at the beginning of the Super Mario World game. So there’s a chance that’s the case, and Yoshi will be a full grown dinosaur throughout the entire movie since that’s his most recognizable and marketable form.

I will be very pleased to be proven wrong though. I want to see the Mario Bros struggle with the pressures of taking care of a baby dino on top of all the other inevitable nonsense that they’re going to go through.

[roostersbby69]

Fresh starts

Summary: After leaving your abusive ex husband with your two kids. Tackling motherhood by yourself is a challenge. Getting to know a certain neighbor might lift some of the weight off of your shoulders.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking

Masterlist | Next part

“Mommy,” A tiny voice echoed in your head as you were still drugged by sleep, “Mommy, wake up.” Tiny hands pushed at your shoulders causing you to come to. Your eyes opened finally and your body jolted when your son’s face was inches away from yours. “Weston,” you blinked as you checked your phone. The light made your eyes water as you read the time on the screen, “It’s four in the morning. What’s wrong baby?”

His little, sleepy eyes blinked slowly at you as his lip pouted. “I had a scary dream. I sleep with you, mommy?” Sighing in sympathy, you nodded softly and helped him under the covers. He snuggled into your pillow and pushed his stuffed dinosaur onto his plump cheek.

The boys shared a room currently. After going through a rough patch with your ex husband, you decided to move houses and not even a week in the boys slept on a mattress beside their boxed up bed frame. You felt helpless and terrible for not being prepared for them. Things just were so sudden, but you would figure it out.

Staring down at your sleeping son, you rubbed your finger along the back of his head. He slowly began to fall asleep. Eventually, so did you.

-

“Charlie, where is your coat?” You called through the house as you checked in the dryer for your other son’s lost coat. “It’s in my book bag!” He called from the bathroom as he brushed his teeth. You pursed your lips and walked to check his book bag which was on the table. The jacket was in fact not there. You sighed and grabbed a jacket from the dryer. You folded it into his bag before then zipped it up, again. A honk came from outside the front door and you hurried Charlie from the bathroom and handed him his lunch before slipping his backpack on his arms. “Have a wonderful day, sweetie.” You kissed his cheek and smiled as he groaned in embarrassment. He waved as he ran to the bus before the door shut. You waited until the bus drove off before slipping back inside your warm house.

“Come on, honey, let’s get you up.” you cooed as you rubbed Westons belly to wake him. He whined and stretched his legs out as you removed the sheets from his body. His face was red from warmth and his little eyes blinked open. When he saw your face he smiled and reached for you to grab him.

“Good morning, sweet boy.” You held him and kissed his cheek as you carried him into the bathroom. Currently you were trying to potty train him, but it wasn't very successful. “Weston, please just try to go.” You begged him as he sat on the toilet without trying to go. “No.” His little voice argued as he crossed his arms over his chest. You shoved your face in your hands and gave up. “Okay, let’s go get you ready for daycare.”

-

“Damn it.” You mumbled as you struggled to remove the showerhead from the boys bathroom. “Shit!” You cried out as your arms got tired and the screwdriver you were trying to pry the shower head off went flying across the bathroom. You groaned loudly and slumped against the shitty bathtub. You were never going to get the damn thing to work.

The doorbell rang causing you to sigh and slowly stand up from your spot on the floor. You made your way to the door and smoothed your hair down before opening the screen door to see your ex husband with Weston in his arms. “Hi, honeybunch.” You smiled and took him from his dad’s arms. “Conner.” You side eyed him. “Y/n,” he grumbled back, “Look, i’ve got a business trip this weekend so you’re going to have to keep them.”

Your face dropped as you stared at him stunned, “You had a trip last weekend, Conner, the kids want to see you.” Weston whined in your arms as you readjusted him on your hip. “You’re the mother, Y/n, figure it out. I can’t help that I’m good at my job.” he scoffed as he walked off towards his car.

“Piece of shit.” You mumbled as you walked into the house and slammed it closed.

You set Weston down on his play mat with some of his toys as you made your way into the bathroom again to tackle the shower head again. You walked inside to get sprayed in the face by water spewing out of the head. “Fuck!” You screamed as you noticed the walls and tile were soaked with the water. You ran to turn it off while squinting your eyes from the aggressive water that spewed out of the faucets. It finally turned off and you sat on your knees with a loud groan. Your hair and clothes were now soaked, great, just what you needed to end your day.

Stirring the green beans on the stove, you listened to Charlie go on about his day at school. “And then, Bella fell off the swing so we had to call her parents and she went home.” He explained.

“Oh no, I hope she’s okay.” You scrunched your eyebrows as you check on the cornbread in the oven. Taking it out with a rag, you set it on the stove to let it cool and grabbed a couple of plates from a cardboard box along with a couple of forks and cups.

“Here you go, baby.” You handed your kids their plates. They thanked you and started eating their food as you smiled and watched them, satisfied. Tonight was a simple dinner, green beans with cornbread and baked chicken. Something simple for the first week in the house. The kids seemed to enjoy it, so you weren't complaining.

Bath time was always a hassle. Charlie was now at the age where he took showers by himself and Weston was still little, so you bathed him. After a bath, you put the kids to bed and gave them each a kiss on the cheek.

“Mama,” Charlie whispered through his comforter. “Yes, baby?” You smoothed his wet hair down and smiled at him. “Are you and dad mad at each other?” This broke your heart, you told yourself you would try your hardest to not bring them into what was happening between you and their dad. You shook your head softly, “No, me and dad just don’t agree on the same things. And that happens a lot with grown ups. It isn’t your fault, baby.” You reassured him. He nodded. “Don’t worry about it, get some sleep, honey.” You kissed him one last time before cutting on their night light and heading out of the room quietly.

Sinking down into the steaming water, you sighed and felt your muscles relaxing. A nice bath is what everyone needs after a long day. Especially the one you’ve had. You loved your kids, but it’s hard taking care of two boys on your own. Finally relaxing, you suddenly heard loud music and shouting coming from outside. Fearing your children would wake up, you sprang out of the bath and wrapped a towel on your soaking body. You ran out of the house, barefoot and turned your head into the direction of the noise. Two houses down, a house with the lights on at 11:00 at night was blaring music. On the back patio there were people laughing and drinking just having a grand time.

Quickly, you ran to the house and beat on the door multiple times until someone answered. “Hey, hey, Shit!” A voice yelled as the door swung open. A tall man with a mustache answered the door with a beer in his hand. “Is there a problem, officer?” He teased. He saw your soaking frame that was dripping on his front porch and your hair that was tied up into a bun on top of your hair.

“Yes, there is. I would appreciate it if you turned the music down a little bit. There are people trying to sleep.” You pulled the towel up further on your chest, angrily.

He took a swig of his beer, not being able to hold back his smirk, “Looks like you aren’t one of them.”

This made your face redden, maybe a mixture of anger and embarrassment as you had stormed out of your bath practically naked in front of a stranger. “Turn it down, please.” You rolled your eyes before turning around and making your way down the street.

“Yeah I’ll turn it down! Just as soon as you tell me your name!” He called as he chased after you.

“My name?” You raised an eyebrow at him in disgust.

“Yeah, like your name. Betty, Lucy?”

You scoffed, “What are those the names of girls you’ve fucked in the last week?”

“No. I was just starting off.” He chuckled.

“Okay,” you nodded your head in amusement, “I've got names coming off the top of my head. Y/n is my name. Charlie is my oldest son’s name. Weston is my youngest son’s name. Conner is my ex-husband's name. And Zach is the sheriff i'll be calling if you don’t keep it the fuck down.” You turned around once again and began walking back towards your house.

Bradley smirked and Watched your ass in the towel as you walked away, “That’s a beautiful name!” He called out to you. “Y/n.” He whispered under his breath as he watched you walk into a house before he turned around back to his own.

“Brad! Where ‘ya been?” Hangman asked with a smile as he threw his arm over his friend’s shoulder.

“You’ll never believe it. A chick in a towel just showed up at the door.” He nudged a thumb back to the front door.

Hangman’s eyes widened like a teenage boy as he ran to the window to take a look. “Bull shit, you liar.” He turned around in defeat, wanting to see the so-called ‘chick in towel’.

“If I’m a liar then I’m dead, because I just saw an angel.” Bradley shook his head dreamily before taking a sip of his beer again.

—————————————————————

[weebsinstash]

As much as I strongly dislike when a series kind of "cages" the self insert/OC potential of its audience, it's becoming pretty clear that there's a certain level of pre-determined-ness to Sinners and their appearances, almost to the point it's vaguely implied entire sections of Pentagram City are like, ethnically/visually distinct and that every character we see fits into some sort of category and resembles other people. There's an Overlord who's a giant raptor dinosaur and there are other dinosaur Sinners (and also she's like the club/rave based overlord and even has a business, Klub Kaiju, interesting). Valentino is a moth and there are other moths and different bugs like spiders. In the most recent episode showing flashbacks of Hell in Alastor's past, there was a past female Overlord who had the same multi-toned angular swirling hair as Velvette does. In Vox's studio in episode two, he has members of staff that are visually similar to his own aesthetic. Even up in Heaven, Angel's sister Molly still has her spider aesthetic with a halo and cherub wings

so, i guess, to go where I'm ACTUALLY going with this post.... Moth Reader who winds up catching Valentino's eyes because "oh wow we're both moths, isn't that cute" and it escalates into him seeing you as his property, ESPECIALLY if you also have weird drugging/pheromone powers like him

Like can you imagine it? You smack down into the city while he's like having lunch at a cafe or his limo is parked at a light and you're standing up all confused and helpless and cute, hugging yourself as you look around this loud violent scary new place, and you two wind up making exact eye contact and he can tell you're crying and scared, easy prey. Could you picture Reader's equivalent of his coat being that you're in a little hoodie or jacket or shawl and it just unwraps while you're sitting with him. Idk. You accidentally inhale some of his smoke and just give a cute little sneeze and your antenna and your wings are all just poofing out, you basically just equipped that shit from your inventory. On the fence if Reader would have chest fur but maybe your hair hair is really big and long and silky

Moth Reader having eye spots on their wings that can lull someone into hypnosis, or you have some sort of pheromone that makes people weak to your demands, maybe even horny for you, like some mind controlling queen bee ordering her drones. Val's in the bathroom and some creep grabs you and all of a sudden your antenna twitch and his face gets hit with a little puff of 'dust' and suddenly he's letting go of you, "oh my gosh sweetie I am so sorry, here, take all the money in my wallet, you deserve it, I'm so sorry queen, I'm gonna go jump into traffic, sorry queen, sorry, sorry, im a worm, sorry, sorry"

Valentino having unique reactions to your "pollen" as another moth or at least an addict with a tolerance. He buries his face in your neck so you "poof" him on purpose and he's just hotboxing your scent and getting high and horny while you're struggling and squealing. He forces you to use your powers on him and others so they can feel happy and high. At some point he may even force you to keep producing the powder so he can sell it as a drug or a product and at that point you're BIG INCOME for him, he might as well carry you around like his personal vape pen

Like. Can you even imagine "oh yeah Im super lucky enough that i have these powers to protect myself and potentially manipulate others" and you think you're safe and untouchable and this man is like using his fucking credit card to shift your powder into lines to snort it like a rail of cocaine. You can turn "normal" Sinners into your helpless pawns but it loses effectiveness the stronger the person is and this man is like HOTBOXING your shit, all but passing out on the couch with you in his arms in pure drug seeking unrestrained bliss. And then he fucks ya cause I mean, it's YOUR fault he's all hot and bothered now isn't it?

Just Reader not even knowing how much danger they're in because you just got here and have no idea who this guy is and you're just spinning around looking at your new appearance and flapping your little wings and maybe you can even float or fly a little bit, all happy, big big smiles, being all "oh my gosh this is so cool, I feel so cute ^^" and you don't even realize you're practically modeling yourself on a runway to one very, VERY interested customer...

[harleehazbinfics]

Cannibal Overlord!Reader [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off!]

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

a/n: I've seen a few fics about reader owning Alastor's soul, so I'm gonna put my own spin on it in Cannibal Chef. >:]

"Madam, the table is ready."

"Oh, thank you Alastor!" You groan, leaning against your chair clutching your aching head.

"These demons can't do anything right!" you roared slamming your fist down on the table sending papers flying, which Alastor calmly collected and places back on the table.

He smiles and waits for you to stand. On your own two feet, you latch onto him and whined, "You won't leave me won't you, Alastor? I'd hate for my most important and capable person to leave!"

"I wouldn't dare think of it, Madam," he replies as he covers your hand with his as he guides you to the dinner table, where several plates of food you loved was presented so fancily. You gushed at the food, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down and tasting a few pieces of everything.

Alastor recovers from your affectionate gesture and pushes your chair in and drapes a napkin over you to not soil your clothes that he meticulously picked.

This was (Y/n), one of the most powerful overlords who reigned over Pentagram City. She controls quite a number of souls from decades of ruling. They say she manifested in hell, seemingly overnight, toppling overlords who were once held an iron grip over the denizens of hell. Tall tales were spread about your fearsome power and your signature cleaver. After establishing your position, you opened a meat shop and restaurant. Cannibal and non-cannibal options of course. You were crazy, but you had class, okay?

Many are frightened at just the thought of you alone, some sinners say that all demons that crossed you would end up on their plate. To set a clear stance what would happen if they dared question her power.

"Oh, Calastor! Good morning, my love! Did you have a good nap?" you ask picking up the red cat who gave you kitten licks on your face.

However, all Alastor could see was a very cheerful and clumsy woman. He recalls the first time he met you. He was roaming and analyzing where he was and how the power was at play arriving here shortly in hell. Unexpectedly, he got caught in a crossfire between you and large dinosaur like demon. When he saw you transform into your larger demon form, he was mesmerized at such power. You didn't hesitate for a second to go for the kill.

After capturing the dinosaur demon and keeping him in your inventory to make a meal out of later. He failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and pulled him closer to your face.

"And who might you be?" you asked sultrily with a dissonant voice that overlapped with each other making him gulp at the wonders it was doing for his body to react a certain way towards the sound.

"Alastor, Madam. Pleasure to be meeting you!" he replies with his usual transatlantic tone, keeping composure despite seconds away from being crushed in your hand.

You smile and replied, "You're polite, how cute. You wouldn't mind if I keep you right?"

Without even a chance to reply, you return to your castle where you changed him into a butler uniform and bombarded him with your troubles and how you were so lonely that no one wanted to be friends with you. So, when you saw him ogling you, you couldn't help but keep him to yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else picking him up other than you.

Alastor, in all his years, didn't once try to escape despite his situation. Sure, it was peculiar and sudden, but he never once felt uncomfortable in his setting. On the contrary, he felt very much at home with you, and even accepting your affectionate gestures.

A few pecks on the lips, cheek and neck wasn't disgusting when it was from you. He enjoyed your warm hugs where you'd eventually fall asleep on him and have him take you to your room. Only for you to pout and pull him on the bed with you and sleep with him.

He just couldn't say no to you. After all. He did love you. He was yours, as you were his.

IM TAKING ASKS FOR THIS ONE TOO

🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader TAGLIST:

@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng, @aria-tempest, @speedycoffeedelight, @0strawberrysorbet0, @amitiel-truth, @corvid007, @kaminarithebest, @enby-goblin

[littlelambscandyland]

hello! I was wondering if your asks were open. If so could I maybe make a request!! It’s for scream (1996)! Like maybe a short prompt or a longer one, or even headcanons! Whatever you prefer of Billy and Stu (or just one if easier) with agere reader? I wouldn’t say forced agere but maybe forced cg if that makes sense? The reader already regresses, but they force their way into caring for reader despite how unwanted it is!! And maybe with masc or GN reader? I’d prefer if it was a bit sillier, until reader finds out about them being ghostface (if you get to that), or it can just be after they know that they both are ghostface! Preferably no diapers and stuff, if possible!! If not that’s okay!!! (˶‾᷄ ��̫ ‾᷅˵) just do whatever you wanna do, if you decide to answer this ask. tysm!! sorry for my nervous rambling lol

Hi! I'm so, so sorry it took so long to get to this. My hyperfixations have been kicking my butt and I only just got back into my slashers fixation. I decided to do headcanons and a short story at the end. I hope I do you justice!

Just A Little Forced (Headcanons & Story)

So, let's say for this scenario that you were already a part of their friend group. We can go ahead and assume that this has given both killers plenty of time to study you and learn whatever they need to without stalking too much, even though we all know they still will.

So, let's say they distinctly told you not to come to the party or maybe you regressed and decided not to go, either way you don't go and make it out unscathed. Now let's say that the men got away with all of it, and the next time you see them you're visiting them in the hospital.

After everything calms down you continue to be friends with them. Both seem a bit more intense than before, but you just assume after a traumatic event like that anyone might become a bit more edgy.

Now let's say one of them slips up, most likely Stu, but, oops, turns out they knew about your regression for a really long time. For a second you panic, at least I know I would, and you wonder how they knew or did they think less of you because of it.

Billy is the one to explain it away. Manipulating his words perfectly to make certain situations seem like clear indicators even though they're not. Stu's the one to tell you that they don't think less of you, if anything they think it makes you better!

So, the three of you go on like this for a short time, before the two practically collapse at your feet asking to be your caregivers. Of course, you trust the both of them, they're your best friends, so you say yes.

Good Golly the can of worms you just opened!

If you thought they were intense before you're really in for it now. Billy was protective before, but now he's always hovering and glaring at people. Stu loved getting you and Billy gifts, but now you're no longer given a choice when he sees you looking at something too long.

They're so incredibly sweet in and out of regression. Sometimes, well most times, they will cause you to slip just by acting and talking those certain ways. As much as you try to apologize for slipping when it's "inconvenient" they rebel by coddling you with affection until you forget any guilt.

Stu is amazing at bedtime and playtime. He makes both of them fun and calming. He tucks you in and will read a bedtime story or screw up a lullaby. He really loves anything you want to do, play dress-up, play with dinosaurs, with nerf guns, play video games, or with building blocks, he's your guy. He is also your go-to when sad. He is really good at making you smile/laugh in those moments, not to mention all those silly nicknames he gives you.

Billy is great with mealtimes and calming you down. When it's time to wind down he knows just what to do. He's often the one helping with bath time and making sure Stu doesn't put you in something "too stupid". He is the best at making sure you eat good and get to bed on time. Despite Stu being your go-to when sad if you want some good comfort rather than a distraction Billy is a much better pick, holding you until you're no longer sad.

All in all you're well taken care of for a while. That is until Ghostface comes back. At first you worry about the two and if they may be a target of this copycat, but both men pacify your worries. With their lack of care for this killer you turn to ignore it as well.

Now let's say you were going through one of their rooms. Maybe you lost a stuffie, or a block, or maybe curiosity was just getting the better of you. What you found certainly wasn't what you were looking for. A black and white mask and a bloodstained knife.

After their failed attempt at lying away the items they revert to option two, locking you away. It's not like they can kill you, no, you're their baby, but they can't just let you go either.

It works well for the both of them anyways, they already didn't like you having to leave and do all those "adult" things and now they had a reason to make you stay. Not to mention they can just keep you at Stu's house since the Ghostface killed his parents.

After this they try their best to comfort you. They hate that you're trying to push them away. Not to mention you found everything out while regressed, oh they feel terrible.

Billy practically moves in with you both, but he still has to entertain his father, at least for now. Both men still try to coddle you and occasionally will force their affections on you when you push them away.

Things are much more strained after, but if you can move past the fact that they're serial killers and focus on how good they are at being your caregivers then you'll be as golden as before if not better, now that they don't have to hide that part of themselves anymore.

~~🔪~~~~~~~~~🔪~~~~Story Under Cut~~~~🔪~~~~~~~~~~🔪~~

You ran as fast as you could, stumbling through the halls, and laughing. You made a bet with your Daddy Stu that you could beat him to the bedroom. Of course, not that you knew, Stu let you win, so he and Billy could gather all the snacks for your little movie marathon. It also helped get out some extra energy so they could get you to sleep later.

The two men lingered in the kitchen for a bit longer while you ran to the room. Once in there you jumped on the bed and waited for your daddies to join you. Well, you were going to wait but you accidentally knocked one of your stuffies off the bed. 

You throw your arm down the crack between the wall and the bed that your stuffed friend fell. You search and search for your fluffy friend only to pull out a weird looking magazine, a mask, and finally your friend.

You look at the little hoard you’d gathered from the gap. You found yourself grossed out by the magazine and you already had your stuffed friend wrapped in your arms, so you turned your attention to the black and white mask.

You inspected it closely: the divots and scratches, the stains and the tears. Suddenly you felt increasingly unsafe. Why did this thing have so many red speckles on it? Was it blood? No, no, you Daddies would never do anything bad. It must be fake, for a costume, right? You pushed your hand back down the hole and dug around until your hand hit something hard. You grabbed a hold of it and pulled it out almost easily. Your tiny heart practically stopped when you saw the long blade. Something red clung to the very base of the blade due to poor cleaning. This wasn’t real you thought. 

You went into hysterics crying and hyperventilating as your mind slipped further and further down due to the panic. Whatever big kid part of your brain was still working shut down as you regressed more and more.

Both men were laughing as they entered the room, at least that was until they were made aware of the scene happening right there on Stu’s bed. Stu was quick to spring to action, scooping you up in his arms even as you tried to fight and flail away from him. Billy stood almost statue-like for a moment as he assessed what had made you so distressed, a firmer look grew on his face as he noticed the mask and knife laying out on the bed.

It was like time stopped, and, yet everything moved much too quickly. Billy tried to lie it all away while Stu tried to calm you. Neither worked.

Weeks had passed since the incident, you finding out about their secret hobby. Weeks since they locked you in Stu’s home and didn’t let you leave. Days since you’ve last allowed yourself to relax. Days since you’ve last regressed, not trusting them anymore.

The boys had barely changed. They still acted as loving and as doting as before. The only difference is now you know where their hands have been. You know what they’ve done; what they’re capable of. You’re terrified of them, disgusted, and angry.

You lay here now on the bed of a room they’d decorated just for you. You lay there waiting, knowing they’d be home soon, knowing they would try to make you regress again. You wait because you don’t know if you can fight the regression, not tonight. You need all the time you can get to prepare to remind yourself who those two actually are. Sure, they take care of you, but they’re still murderers.

When they do finally get home Stu calls for you at the door. “Pumpkin! We’re home!”

You can hear the smile in his voice. A part of you wonders what they were doing out there. Were they doing normal everyday things, the child in you wonders if they went to a park or arcade, or were they out doing more terrible things to people?

You listen as their steps get closer. You listen as they open the door. You turn away when they come towards the bed. Tears gather at having to turn away the only people you ever fully trusted.

“Baby, turn back around.” You hear Billy command softly.

“Yeah, c’mon you’re hurting our feelings over here.” Stu chimes in, and you can hear his pout.

You shake your head into the pillow. A shaky breath comes out of you. It’s hard not to regress simply by the way they talk to you.

“Okay then.” Da- Billy says.

You feel the bed dip before you’re pulled roughly into one of their arms. As your heart beats rapidly you’re turned to face him. The second your eyes meet Billy’s you’re pushing him away and crying to be let go.

“Oh, hey, hey! It’s okay. You’re okay!” Stu tries to pacify while he comes over to sit next to Billy.

“No, no! Let me go! Let-” You’re cut off by Billy.

“That’s enough!” He practically hisses.

Your heart drops. He never talks to you like that. Even these past few weeks he hasn’t gotten angry at you. Not until now. You could feel your breathing quicken.

“Look what you did.” Dadd- Stu scolds Billy. “You scared them.” He says rubbing his larger hands down your arms in attempted comfort.

“Don’t coddle them, Stu. They’ve been acting like a brat for over a month now.” Billy argues angrily.

“Jus go away…” You whisper, trying weakly to push either away from you.

It almost hurts, shoving the thoughts and feeling away; the want to be held by them, the need to slip further and further into that child's mindset.

“Oh, come on, angel… You know your daddies just wanna take care of you.” You curl in on yourself as Stu tries again to soothe you.

“We’d never hurt you. We’ve taken care of you so well, haven’t we?” Billy claims while stroking your cheek with his thumb.

Stu leans over and you’re practically pinned between your two caregivers. A part of it was comforting. Like cuddling on the couch, but that wasn’t the situation. Stu sits his head on your shoulder and his eyes meet Billy’s and it’s like they’re talking without saying a thing.

“You know~” Stu starts with a growing smile. “Your daddies bought something for you while we were out.”

Despite yourself, you get excited. The little in you pushing out slowly got incredibly excited at the thought of a gift. Your daddies always got you the best gifts.

Wait, wait, they still aren’t safe… Right?

Stu jumps off the bed and grabs the bag they discarded by the bedroom door. Billy maneuvered you so your back faced him rather than Stu. The taller man finally sits back on the bed holding the bag.

He leans down slightly and whispers with a grin. “Do you want to open it?” 

As much as you wanted to continue to fight, your excitement won, and you nod your head.

“Hear ya go!” He says pushing the bag towards you.

Opening the bag you’re met with something dark green and soft. You grab it lightly and pull it out of the bag. Your excitement grows when you see the face of a T-Rex. You try to hold back the smile and giggle building in your throat.

“Do you wanna see something cool?” Your Daddy Billy asks from behind you.

You nod quickly in response. Without hesitation he presses the dinosaur's foot and the toy comes to life. A loud roar shoots out of it. You can’t hold back any longer and you let a laugh rip through you. 

Both men silently celebrated at your reaction. You press the dino’s foot again and again with a smile. Soon your Daddy Stu takes the toy from your hands and the three of you shift slightly so it’s easier for you to play.

You pause every once in a while, fear creeping in until one of your caregivers pulls you back. Yes, you were trapped and yes you were scared, but you guess it could be worse.

[thathoodedgamer]

Adding more to the dinosaur au with orion and megatronus. In this megatronus is already the head of the decepticons. Both him and orion have an arrange marriage to combine the two clans into one. Orion was not a head figure in his clan but a small archivist who would venture out and collect different plant life and watch certain fauna. Also orion gains the name Optimus in this via an old decepticon marriage rite where you gain a new title once wed. Megatronus becomes Megatron so that it might sound more autobot like, and orion becomes Optimus so that I might sound more decepticon like. Balanced as all things should be.

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

The Inconveniencing

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1, Headhunters Pt. 2, Headhunters Pt. 3, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 2 (previous), The Inconveniencing, Dipper Vs. Manliness (next)

Any joy Stan might have felt from his lingering victory over Gideon and the find that came with it was dampened by his brother’s near indecipherable notes.

It was already hard enough to read his fancy handwriting, but having to slog through the sections written in code only to find stupid little observances that he’d hidden just because he could was maddening. Stan had spent their childhood and teenage years going over his brother’s homework to finish his own then another thirty years going over Journal One over and over again until the spine was soft and the pages embedded in his memory. Decoding Journal Two was easier with the first one on-hand, but it wasn’t without its difficulties.

If he hadn’t spent his entire life forcing his eyes to stay on letters with the tendency to get up and move on him while he read, he might have thought Ford had used some kind of magic on the books to keep unwanted eyes out. As it was, he knew that it was just his own brain struggling to keep up and make the words look right.

Reading aloud helped ― he had a better memory when it came to things he could hear rather than trying to retain information by reading, but he only had a few hours in the dead of night to go over the book.

Dipper and Mabel, though safely sequestered in their attic bedroom after a certain point in the night, didn’t do as much sleeping as they claimed to. Stan could often hear knitting needles going a mile a minute even past midnight, or the compulsive clicking of a pen as Dipper tried to beat the protagonists in his mystery novels in solving the case. And, ugh, why did those stupid Sibling Brother novels have to be so popular? Those guys had been jerks even way back in 1960s Jersey.

Shoulda let the Jersey Devil eat them…

Stan hoped the last Journal would help put the others in perspective. He had no delusions about Dipper letting him keep it for long and had spent a good bit of his time between tours working on the old copier in his office. The thing had been a dinosaur long before Stan had arrived in Gravity Falls and he was only slightly worried that it was another crazy invention of his brother’s. Anything was possible with the leftovers Stan had built his life around here. But if he could just make his own copy of the book, Dipper would be none-the-wiser about why Stan was so invested in it.

And he was sure he’d end up spending more time pouring over the book than he wanted to. It just felt like something was missing ever time he read through them. Something hiding right under his nose.

What he wasn’t missing, however, were the pinecones flying over the Mystery Shack’s parking lot.

He paused on his way to the car, having intended on going into town to get craft supplies for a new exhibit, and turned to squint at the roof.

He hoped it wasn’t the gnomes being assholes again.

Creepy, little―

A pinecone hit him square in the face.

“Gah! My nose! It hit me right in the nose!”

“Oh my gosh!” a familiar voice cried in panic.

Dipper.

Now, really ― Stan could let a lot of things go when it came to being a responsible guardian. He was cool like that. And, besides, it wasn’t like he’d had any good role models to base his skills on growing up.

But the kid had just survived a tumble off a cliff thanks to sheer dumb luck and his sister’s quick thinking.

A sister who was standing beside her twin on the roof.

Along with his lumberjack-in-training cashier.

“Wendy Darlene Corduroy!” Stan bellowed, his face red with anger. “You get your ass down here right now and explain yourself!”

“My innocent ears!”

“You too, Mabel Olivia!”

Oi, he really was channeling his mother these days, what with the ‘explain yourself’ and full naming the kids…

“Ah, man. There goes my hideout.” Wendy sighed, unbothered by being caught. The twins, however, looked mortified. “Oh, hey ― it’s my friends!”

Wendy then did something that nearly sent Stan’s teenager body into cardiac arrest.

With all the casual flippancy that her family seemed to possess in spades, Wendy launched herself off the roof, latching onto one of the pine trees that bordered the house and riding it down all the way into the parking lot. She was in her friend’s van and speeding off before Stan could catch her.

“Later, dorks!”

“Later, Wendy!” Dipper cried, his voice cracking painfully. He seemed to have forgotten the situation he was in.

Well, Stan could fix that!

“Mason Alexander Pines! You’d better be down here in the next thirty seconds or your BABBA collection’s goin’ in the Bottomless Pit!”

__________________________________________________________

Maybe it was a bit childish to still be on Dipper's ass the next day, but Mabel was a lot harder to embarrass than her brother. And Dipper still was trying to find excuses about why he couldn't share the journal yet.

 Well, opportunity gave Stan the chance to share a little something of his own!

“Mom used to dress him up in a lamb costume and make him do…” Mabel was telling Wendy eagerly, pausing for dramatic flare.

“The Lamby Dance!” Stan finished for her gleefully, pulling a VHS tape from his jacket and waving it at the kids. 

He'd found it after all, buried in an old box of home movies that Ford had kept buried in the lab. There were even a few reels from the fifties and sixties that Stan just couldn't bring himself to watch. But Dipper’s mortifying childhood memories were free real estate!

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper screeched, his face crimson. “We don't talk about the Lamby Dance! Destroy that tape!”

“Hup, hup, hup.” Stan tutted, easily keeping the VHS tape out of his nephew's reach. “Now, this is a precious memory I treasure. Why would I destroy it? It's not like you can promise me anything in return…”

Dipper groaned dramatically. “Fiiiiine. I'll stay off the roof!”

“Deal!” Stan grinned triumphantly, his expression gaining a slight edge as he watched the boy stomp the tape into oblivion. It was a good thing he had more copies hidden away.

Wendy laughed at the scene, gently ribbing the boy about wearing a costume, when the cuckoo clock in the gift shop signaled the end of the Shack’s hours. 

“Hey, look at that!” she said eagerly, pulling her name tag off and shoving it in her pocket. “Quittin’ time ― the gang's waiting for me!”

And then, much to Stan's surprise, Dipper invited himself and Mabel along with them, spinning a quick yarn about their age.

Stan raised a brow at that but kept his mouth shut, curious about where he was planning to go with this. 

He crossed his arms, looking at the boy expectantly while they waited for Wendy to gather her things.

“Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't tell her you're really twelve.” 

“C’mon, Grunkle Stan!” the boy hissed, eyes darting to the doorway nervously. “This is my― our chance to hang out with, y’know, the cool kids! And Wendy’’ll be there!”

“The same Wendy who jumped off my roof yesterday?” Stan asked, his tone flat and unimpressed. He shuddered. Ugh, he sounded like his father.

“Give him a break,” Mabel soothed, eyes twinkling. “He can't help that he's in love with Wendy!” 

She screeched the last part like a particularly excited bird, making Stan grateful he no longer needed his hearing aid. The feedback would have been murder on his ears.

While the twins wrestled in the background over Dipper's apparent crush, Stan mulled over the situation silently.

On one hand, letting them run off with a bunch of teenagers could end horribly. There's no telling what they could get up to, especially in Gravity Falls. 

On the other hand, seeing Dipper grow a little bit of a spine and showing the ol’ Pines’ conman spirit tugged at his heart strings. If the kid honed that mindset just a bit more, he'd be a real chip off the ol’ block.

They'd finally have something in common. 

“I’ll allow it!” Stan declared suddenly, surprising the twins into silence. “But I want to know where you're going and I get to meet the rest of those kids. If you've got a problem with that, I'll tell Wendy the truth and you twos don't go nowhere.”

 The twin shared a look.

“Deal!”

 Stan pressed his lips together tightly and trailed after the kids as they met up with Wendy's friends.

 The teenagers lit up at the sight of her, cheering her name like many townsfolk did for her dad. 

Despite the obvious affection they seemed to have for the girl, something tightened in his chest at the picture they all made. Specifically the twins at the center of it.

Mabel had seemed to charm her way in with the teenagers instantly, like a duck to water. She didn't even fawn over the boys, which relieved Stan.

That was a nightmare he wasn't ready for. Probably never would be. 

He knew the dangers of falling for older men. 

Dipper, meanwhile, was struggling to fit in with the others, leading to an awkward silence in the group. Yeesh ― maybe the kid did have more in common with Ford than he’d thought.

One of the teens took advantage of the silence to notice Stan. A pale, crater-faced kid with dyed black hair and an air of indifferent despair. The Valentinos’ son.

Stan narrowed his eyes at the kid. He’d been an unwanted interloper, who'd hung around the Shack in the early days of Wendy working there. He was a terrible distraction that had to be run off multiple times before getting the picture.  

He knew to be afraid of Stan Pines. 

He knew nothing about the new ‘teen’ hanging around with Wendy

“Who's this guy?” the Valentino kid asks, his voice nasally and weasel-like. It grates on Stan's ears and something about the kid makes him want to start punching. 

If the way Dipper also tenses is any indication, the boy shares the sentiment. 

“Stanley Pines,” Stan offers shortly before anyone can open their mouths. “The Second.”

“Whoa,” one of the other boys grinned at him. His long hair and face reminded Stan of the overly patriotic redneck in town. They might even be related. “ I didn't know Old Man Pines had a kid. Dude, he's not, like, dead or anything, right?”

Stan blinked rapidly for a moment at the question, a lie falling from his lips before he had time to process how the idea of Stanford's identity dying out entirely makes him feel. His chest feels tight again. Stomp it out and put it in a box to deal with later.

“He's on a cruise.” He shrugs noncommittally. The teenagers relax at the lie. Probably uncomfortable with the idea of being forced to offer a stranger their condolences. “Won it in a sweepstakes or somethin’ and he made me come down to run the Mystery Shack while he's gone.”

The teenager with the hat made a sympathetic face. “Dude, that sucks ― having to work all summer.”

“Yeah,” Wendy agrees, throwing an arm around Stan’s neck and nearly choking the life out of him while she grins. There's an edge to her eyes that whispers mischief. “He should totally come hang with us.”

Oh boy… 

“What?!” Dipper yelps, mortified by the very idea of Stan tagging along. Which he gets, but also ― ouch. 

The Valentino kid looks just as upset with the idea, glaring daggers at the arm Wendy has around Stan.

Oh great, the kid’s jealous of him!

Now would be a great time for Stan to bolt and disappear. Possibly lock himself in the basement so no one could find him and get some extra work done on the portal while the kids are out.

But Wendy had a death grip on him and he was forced into the back row of an unfamiliar van while people he didn’t know shouted up front.

Altogether, a familiar experience made new by the presence of his niece and nephew sitting on either side of him.

Stan crossed his arms and glared at the back of Wendy’s hat.

“I am not okay with this.” he announced flatly, breaking Dipper and Mabel out of yet another argument about Stan’s kidnapper.

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper began hesitantly, lowering his voice until they were in a little bubble only privileged to their family. “Why did you tell them your name is Stanley?”

Stan does his best to breathe through the cramp in his chest, the sensation lingering from earlier, and fixes his eyes on the dents in the roof. Shoves his hands further into the crooks of his elbows to hide his sweaty hands, the echoes of his mother calling his name ringing in his ears. (Always Stanley and never just Stan.)

“I didn’t wanna be Stanford Junior.” he says finally, hesitating just too long to be a natural answer.

“Who’s Stanley Pines the First?” This time it’s Mabel, her eyes sharp and likely running through all their shared relatives in her head. He’s grateful the majority of the Pines family were back on the East Coast, Shermie’s family the only outliers and not as ready to fill the twins’ heads with cautionary tales designed to keep them from turning out like their ‘no-good, dead uncle’.

‘Stanley’ was practically a swear word in Shermie’s house.

“A dead man.” Stan mumbled, the words nearly lost beneath the cacophony of the teenagers in front of them. “The family’s better off without him and that’s all ya need to know.”

“You must have loved him, at least.” Mabel prodded, ever the optimist. This was the first time it had ever cut into his heart like this. “I mean, to name yourself after him. Rename? Would you name a hypothetical son after him?”

Stan finally turned to look at her and she flinched from the intensity of it.

“Never.”

__________________________________________________________

The old Dusk-2-Dawn looks just as Stan remembers it. The last time he’d been in there was 1995 to buy a few things he was too lazy to go all the way into town for. He’d been in a foul mood, his birthday only weeks away, looming over his head like a coming storm, and he’d barely said two words to Ma and Pa Duskerton while roaming the aisles.

Ma had tried to push the conversation, eyes full of a matronly concern Stan hadn’t seen in over twenty years, but he had resisted to the point of rudeness. It normally wouldn’t bother him to be a jerk, but the old lady had looked so disappointed with him that he’d suddenly seen his own mother’s face staring back at him. The way she’d looked at ‘Stanley’s’ funeral, the only family he’d had there. Even Shermie hadn’t come down, though he’d had the excuse of having an appendectomy on his side.

Stan had mumbled an apology and an excuse about having a headache.

Ma’s face cleared of irritation pretty quickly and she’d pressed a packet of aspirin into his hands, free of charge.

To help keep the town’s best tourist catcher in good health, she’d claimed. The Murder Hut had brought in a surprising amount of revenue to the town once he’d made it into more than just the local papers.

He’d done it again a few years later after rechristening the Shack with a more family-friendly name, but Ma hadn’t been around to see that.

But she’d believed in him at the moment.

Three days later, she and her husband were dead and their store closed down.

Haunted, the townsfolk claimed. Fenced off and avoided at all costs.

Unless, of course, you were a group of teenagers who wanted to star in a horror movie like Wendy and her friends.

Or Dipper, who’d climbed onto the roof to break in.

Wait ― what?!

Stan jolted out of his memories at the sight of his nephew disappearing into a vent and he made a strangled sound of rage.

That knucklehead!

Still, it was pretty awesome to see the kid punching his way through his problems. Just like his ol’ Grunkle Stan!

The boy opened the doors and waved them in, a grin splitting his face.

Stan followed after the other teenagers, most of them chattering happily about the unexpected addition to their group, and paused just inside the doors.

“I’m impressed, kid.” he snorted, ruffling the kid’s hair and messing up his hat. “But don’t do that again!”

The boy laughed at him, always a tad nervous in their interactions, and smiled hesitantly back at Stan.

The resemblance to Ford was too much for him to take in at the moment, so Stan slung an arm around his neck and dragged him inside.

Now breaking and entering was something he could get behind!

He even found himself laughing with the other teens as they trashed the store, throwing food and dusty cat litter at each other. They dropped Mentos into an old bottle of Pitt and Stan just shook the fizz out of his hair with a joyful grin.

He had to hand it to these kids ― they knew how to have a good time. Even the Valentino kid and all the weird staring he did at Stan. It wasn’t even all glares, but there was an occasional splash of color that made the kid go all splotchy whenever Stan caught him in the act.

Stan tried to avoid him, sticking close to the kid with the long face and his friend with the hat. Lee and Nate, though he’d forgotten which one was which.

They seemed to like him the most after Wendy.

The other girl was too focused on her phone to pay him much attention ― though he’d seen her snapping pictures of him on occasion ― and the last guy in the group was too desperate for attention from the original friend group to try and corner Stan.

So Stan gets caught up with the pair of boys who seem to know each other like the back of their hands, so lost in the thrill of finally acting like a teenager again that he fails to notice when something inevitably goes wrong.

“Stan!” Dipper hisses urgently, tugging at his uncle’s T-shirt and pulling him away from the others so they can speak in private. “Something's wrong here! I keep seeing things ― weird things! ― around the store and I’m pretty sure it’s haunted and Mabel’s overdosed on Smile Dip and I can’t say anything to the others because they’ll just think I’m a scared little kid or something!”

Stan takes a moment to just blink at that, because, wow. He’s surprised the kid didn’t pass out trying to get all that out in one go. He certainly hadn’t stopped to breathe.

Then he straightens up, the air of a teenager sliding off him to show the old man he really is inside.

“Where’s Mabel?”

The poor girl looks like the guys Stan had known back during his dark days in Colombia. Living on the streets was rough enough ― seeing them go into seizures after too much ‘edible flour’ was almost as traumatizing as accidentally pushing your brother through an interdimensional portal while he called your name and begged for help.

So… pretty damn traumatizing.

Stan didn’t know if Smile Dip had the same stuff in it to send Mabel into a similar state as the guys he’d known on the streets, but he didn’t want to chance it.

He scoops his niece up, cradling her tiny body to his chest, and wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

How did he get so caught up that he missed Mabel trying questionable substances?! The girl was so much like Ford in his eyes that he forgot how much she was like Stan, too.

It’s just supposed to be a bit of fun.

Until it isn’t.

“We’re leaving!” Stan barks at the others, startling them out of their fun. The Valentino kid is so shocked that he falls off the counter and disappears behind the register. “NOW!”

“Whoa,” Wendy tries to placate, her gaze hardening as it lands on the bundle of turquoise and pink in his arms. “Stan ― breathe. C’mon, guys, time to go.”

A breath leaves his chest in an explosion of air, the tightness in his chest having built up to a vice yet again. It burns and crushes him simultaneously, quickly becoming a feeling both familiar and a hindrance. Every moment the twins spend in Gravity Falls just makes the feeling grow and grow and grow.

The last thing Stan wants to do is send them home to parents who’re contemplating divorce, but that small bit of good sense he has whispers that it may be what he needs to do.

To keep them safe, alive.

“No one is leaving!” a new voice bellows.

Stan can only look on in horror as the Valentinos’ kid rises from behind the counter.

And keeps rising.

They really did end up in a horror movie, the Valentino kid obviously possessed now and floating above them while wreathed in a ghostly glow. His dark eyes are white beneath his fringe, rolled back so far in his head that the veins are visible and bulging.

That… That can’t be good.

It’s a blur after that, the teenagers disappearing one after another until it’s just him and Wendy left, backed up against the doors with the twins encased in Stan’s arms. He’d picked up Dipper at some point, though he had no recollection of doing so.

The ghost is laughing at them now, saying something about hot dogs of all things!

Fury and fear war within Stan until they spew forth from him in an angry wave.

“Oh, can it, Duskerton! You never sold your dogs at a discount and that joke’s thirty years old! Get some new material and let us outta here!”

The possessed Valentino kid scowls at him, his ghostly glow tinged red, but it’s the other face materializing next to him that catches Stan’s attention.

“My, Pa!” Ma Duskerton exclaims in surprise. “That’s Stanford Pines!”

The red fades away and Pa Duskerton fades into view beside the transparent image of his wife.

The Valentino kid drops to the ground, landing with a muffled groan.

“Why, it is, Ma!” Pa says joyfully, floating closer to peer at Stan’s face. “Got yourself caught up in some magic mischief, didya m’boy?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan rolled his eyes at the familiar tone of the couple. For some reason, they liked him enough to ignore his gruff attitude. “The whole baby face’s old news by now. So, ya gonna let us go or what? My kid’s spazzin’ out over that junk you guys used t’ sell.”

Ma’s face crumbled with concern and she disappeared, only to reappear right in front of them. Stan jumped and clutched the twins more tightly. Ma didn’t seem to notice, attempting to pet Mabel’s tangled curls, her hand going right through the girl.

“Oh, the poor dear.” the woman tutted maternally. “I saw my share of kids go through the same thing. Get her some water to break it down and something starchy to soak it up and she’ll be just fine, deary.”

Some of the tension floods from Stan’s shoulders at the reassurance. Already Mabel’s eyes are beginning to clear, every pass of Ma’s hand bringing life back into her tiny body.

“Now,” Pa sighs, crossing his arms. “I really am sore at you kids for the state of our store.”

“We’re really sorry,” Wendy offers sheepishly, the expression out of place on her face. “We didn't think anyone would care after seventeen years.”

Pa flares red briefly but settles down quickly when Dipper flinches in his uncle’s arms.

“Well, I do care, young lady. But you’ve apologized. Your friends, however…”

“Can’t we do anything to help them?” Dipper asks rather meekly. He forces himself to stay steady when Pa attempts to pat his head and shivers when the hand passes through him.

“Now, now, little fella ― say, how old are you, anyway? Y’seem a bit small to be one of them sassa-frassin’ teenagers!”

Once it’s apparent that the Duskertons hate teenagers, Dipper’s con is now on the line.

The boy looks nervously at Wendy before slumping in defeat.

“I’m twelve… technically not a teen.”

“Wonderful!” Pa beams, his ghostly glow becoming almost blinding white at the admission. “Do you know any funny little dances?”

“No―oooo,” Dipper drags out the word in a panic as Pa flashes red. “Well, there is one! The, uh, Lamby Dance… But I can’t really do it without a lamb costume, so―”

Which doesn’t deter Pa in the slightest.

The ghost snaps his fingers and warps reality around them to put Dipper in a fleecy costume, the boy teleported to the center of the store where there’s room to dance.

Stan muffles a distressed moan at the sudden loss and holds Mabel tighter. Whatever the kid was doing, he didn’t want to get in the way. His nephew’s song and dance routine is a familiar comfort, but Stan won’t be anywhere near at ease until the boy’s back in his arms again.

Which probably won’t be any time soon.

The boy’s sacrifice has saved the others and everyone practically crawls out of the Dusk-2-Dawn as Wendy regalls them with a heavily edited retelling of how Dipper exorcised the ghosts.

Mabel’s stirring in his arms and Stan barely has time to put her down before she’s throwing up against the van’s tires.

There’s a muffled chorus of sympathetic noises from the rest of the group as she finishes spewing her guts.

“Oh, man.” Wendy sighs as she comes to stand beside Stan. Her face is contrite and worn, a shadow of nervousness on her face that Stan would have missed if he hadn’t known the girl her entire life. “Sorry about all that, dude. I just really wanted you to let loose a little ― not deal with overdoses and ghosts.”

He bumps his shoulder against hers gently. It barely budges her, only a testament to how tired she really is.

“I’m not happy about the twins getting dragged into another mess, but you didn’t know what would happen.” Stan’s reminded of another teenager who made a mistake, a lifetime and a coastline away, and can’t bring himself to yell at her just yet. “Whaddya say to dumpin’ the gremlins in bed and pigging out on ice cream and bad public television?”

Wendy grins and punches his arm playfully. It actually kinda hurts.

“You got it, man. Better than just staring at my wall for hours until the world makes sense again. Next time we hang out, let’s just stay at the Mystery Shack, okay?”

“Next time?” Dipper, who’d been hovering at their hips and holding back Mabel’s hair, perks up. “You mean, you still wanna hang out with us? Even… even after I lied about being thirteen?”

Wendy pushed his hat down over his face.

“Of course, doofus!” her tone was unbelievably fond. “The Pines Family is the coolest in Gravity Falls!”

The boy is practically glowing as he climbs into the van, only dimming slightly as he and Mabel fall asleep on the ride home. The twins glue themselves to Stan’s sides and only offer mumbled protests when he and Wendy carry them into the Shack. They’re snoring by the time they’re tucked into bed and Wendy and Stan crash in front of the TV to spend the rest of the night binging some old movie they’re too tired to protest watching.

By the end of it, Stan’s crying over Duchess’ long-awaited wedding and appropriately angry when it’s interrupted.

Wendy just laughs at him, long and hard, still grinning half-an-hour later when she finally passes out. Stan follows her soon after, his dreams full of dashing men in waistcoats and fiery young women who challenge the world.