#by his audience's support so i think. he has room to improve

[uglygirlheaven]

Time to get real. You can send me hate mail for this. I think wibur's singing voice sounds reaaaaalllll rough and the only reason i pretented otherwise was because i had a crush on him

[thy-valhallen]

Batfam Voices as Instruments

Batfam voices as instruments bc i think of things very musically and it struck me others don't

Bruce: bass guitar. he's low and deep and when he speaks, you feel it in your eardrums, straight into your jaw. his words are like injections into your skull, feel intense and impossible to ignore-- but he has softer moments, too. quiet, gentle plucking of strings, the careful, slow strums of a man who plays only for the ears who will know what the notes will mean

Alfred: viola. slightly deeper than a violin, but mostly just warmer. a voice you hear and want to hum along to, a voice that sits in your ears before it sinks into your chest. it's gentle and sways with grace across strings and notes, it plays a harmony that supports and compliments, that is a steady through-line for everything that surrounds it

Dick: trumpet. brassy and loud and present and fuck do you KNOW when he's in the room. he's so bright and warm and MEANT to be heard. you hear him in your heart, every time he speaks, feel it deep in every vein like he's writing gospel into your DNA. and usually it's jazzy, it's excitement and riffs and improv and leaping off the page and doing cartwheels across a music staff-- but he's just as capable of whispersoft confessions of heartbreak and loss in D minor, can let loose a lament of all he's lost in an elegy of epic proportions

Barbara: harp. a challenging instrument to understand and play, and one she plays with ease. she is plucking strings with careful fingertips, strums across them all with a single hand. she's a melody that glides past your ears, a song that doesn't sink in-- if you're not paying attention to the hooks that latch into your brain. she is careful compositions and sweeping songs arranged for each audience with care. yet when she feels wrath, she shreds herself to make sure you feel it-- she takes scissors to her own strings to cut deeper than the song could alone

Jason: cello. deep and contemplative, with a sort of vibration that bites into your bones from the moment he opens his mouth. waxing poetic is his native tone, and it sounds like a bow dancing across strings and fingers traversing the frets like they were made for it, a soothing melody that could be a lullaby. when fury comes, the sound alone is so sharp where it's settled into your joints that you can't fight back; it's vicious strokes across the strings that shred the bow's hairs without care, wrath in every pull like it's a sword. he can settle into the orchestra or he can sweep them all offstage to stand alone against the conductor that dared to direct him

Cass: marimba. light and soft and so very deliberate. all those bars close together, and each hit with precision, because when Cass speaks, each sound and syllable is effort and choice and control. she is range and gentle dancing note to note and a sound that settles on your skin like a gentle rain, clinging and soft and so very present. to hear it is to hear if a storm could sing and serenaded the sky it calls home. she is echoing in an empty room until she fills it herself (i think of this specifically)

Tim: piano. it's all about the force put into it-- he can be the most careful, calculated guy in the room, playing with all the rigor and rigid professionalism of a NY Symphonic pianist. but the real Tim is the one who's fingers flutter playfully over the keys, who's voice cracks from laughter and sleep deprivation and stress, who trembles between octaves as his fingers tire but makes the leap anyway. he is clear ringing notes in a crowded room and rambling words like a glissando back and forth across the ivories, he is a song quiet enough to fall to the background but a complex and delicate tune if you care to listen

Steph: drum kit. she is all intensity and living in the moment and sharp impacts and a beat that never stops, never waits for the rest. she can get lost to the rest of the voices in a room, but you'll never shake that she's in your head, that her voice is there and present and presses against the base of your skull like it wants to worm straight in. she's rhythm and motion and changing things up just to do it; her voice hops from the snares to the bass to the snares and back to bass and never lets you think between notes, she's moving so fast, because it's all her, nothing she ever has to question, even if she makes you question with every slam on the cymbal

Damian: violin. he is careful in his every motion, ever meticulous with all he does; he lives in fear of being out of tune, of off-key notes for a long time, and so each one is practiced and known to the point of monotony. but over time, he thaws and the notes become more loose, more free-- he speaks less like his eyes are glued to the page, furiously tracking each note he'll play and more like the natural he is-- he becomes sharper in a different way than the rest of him, notes out of place that jut from the rest and it's okay that they do, a hum of songs that don't follow classic melodies and don't feel the need to. don't mistake it though-- his voice has always been as regal and pointed as the rest of him was raised to be, and his voice grabs both your ear and your eyes, dragging you to look at him, for him to be seen and noticed and given attention

Duke: saxophone. he is deep and rich and resonating. his voice is emotion and expression and honesty. his voice sits on your tongue because hearing him makes you want to speak, want to talk and chat and ramble with him, to reply to his melody with any harmony to match. he is a voice meant to be heard by many, who may not stand out in a room naturally but makes himself stand out by the passion in his voice. he is a slow, experimental hand that plays notes with hesitance until the rhythm hits him and suddenly, it's a melody of energy and power and a presence that he doesn't even know he has

[moki-dokie]

reasons i will never forgive the showrunners if they don't at least acknowledge jjpope by the end of s3

featuring: ✨✨✨queerbaiting✨✨✨

wearing each other's clothes:

jj taking every opportunity ever to touch pope (god there are SO many more examples too):

jj getting sexual with, to, or about pope and ONLY pope, ever:

INTRICATE RITUALS:

(with coincidentally well timed lyrics right as it cuts to this scene sorry not sorry editing choices like that are done for a reason)

jj very often gazing at his lips instead of his eyes while talking to him:

(seconds before going in for the kiss)

jj constantly putting himself between pope and danger or being protective of him:

KISSING:

INTIMATE NECK KISSING IN A HOT TUB FOR WHICH THERE IS NO HETEROSEXUAL REASON FOR????:

I RAN OUT OF ROOM FOR IMAGES BUT LETS NOT FORGET ALSO

how jj has quite a few pet names for pope but no one else, how pope and jj are almost always paired off together, how jj has explicitly said 'i love you' to pope TWICE, how jj calms pope down when he starts spiraling, how jj and pope have more physical contact and affection than the two romantic leads, how jj is supposed to be a manho from how he's introduced and yet the opening shot is the one and only time we've seen him with someone in a romantic or sexual manner. how about the multiple accounts of people sharing gifs of them to people who have never seen the show with 0 context provided and damn near every time the consensus is 'they are not straight/they are hitting on each other'. I've covered most of this before. the list goes on.

we could even get into film editing choices from the perspective of my bestie who has a degree in that very field and how SO many of their scenes are shot, lit, scored, and all around edited with romantic intent,.

but then wait, there's more! how about how multiple members of the cast (including rudy!!) have stated they support the ship and think it's cute? or how multiple netflix socials heavily suggested jjpope was going to be canon? how so many of the key jjpope moments were improv that could have been cut and redone (like the fucking hot tub scene) if they didn't want it going in a possible homo direction??? or how jjpope was the first major ship to come out of obx BECAUSE of such heavy handed subtext?? and then the showrunners have the audacity to pivot to jiara at the last second because of a handful of fucking rabid stans that harassed the cast so severely it drove most of them off of socials??? with the paper thin excuse of 'oh we never expected that lets explore it'???????????

and whats the definition of queerbaiting again? "Queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ+ representation. The purpose is to attract ("bait") a LGBTQ+ or straight ally audience with the suggestion or possibility of relationships or characters that appeal to them."

right.

i still have a sliver of hope that their 'exploration' of jiara is just like, 2 episodes of them giving it a shot and realizing they actually suck together. i still have hope they aren't gonna do us so blatantly dirty and might give us something even if it's just crumbs. most of the cast are loud and proud queer allies, the showrunners have so far been pretty fucking cool and extremely supportive of the queer community, even refusing to film in north Carolina because of transphobic bathroom laws. it would feel especially dirty if they really did bait us because of that. but man. MANNN. it just ain't looking good. i'd hate to give up on the show. i love it and love the actors even more but if they do it, i might just have to.

[accio-victuuri]

XZ’s GQ February issue candies 🍬

now that we all had the time to appreciate the lovely photos and videos from that cover & collab — which is honestly a whole meal on it’s own, now is the time for some sweets. 🫶🏼 nothing too extravagant, a few similarities and clues we have connected only. i think the best candy still is the fact that it’s now confirmed that zz & wyb both have a good relationship with gq. even rocco going as far as choosing xz to start having simultaneous cover releases with other countries. sit tight and wait for all the toxic narratives to be proven wrong. don’t sweat it. the road ahead is long. let’s enjoy life and support the boys! 🫶🏼

One thing i noticed, and was actually surprised about was WYB posting an ad for Super X as early as 8:00 AM. Tho he may post at 8:05, which is rare, he usually does ad posts at 10:00. The 8:05 is mostly done by the brands. We have talked about them trying their best not have work overlap, this is a minor one, but as soon as GQ posted at 9:30 i feel like i know what’s happening. Then it didn’t stop till 12:00 nn. It doesn’t help cause i’m clowning that the short film feature for this cover was assigned Chapter 8. WYB posted at 8, the full short film is 8. What a nice coincidence!

Knowing WYB is not a stranger to doing short films with GQ and their love for movies! It wouldn’t really surprise me now if GG does a full feature about LOCH with them. These two really chose the same publication to do exclusive for their projects 😌😌

the similarity that i love is them in the bathroom and then looking at the mirror. tho wyb’s are scenes from HB, these stills were first seen @ GQ.

there is a story here 👀👀

it’s nice too how GQ used ZZ’s photos and put them in the frames. what a nice touch! since this is essentially his dream 💭

+ peter pan pop up art book on the bed too!

overall, there is really not that much we can clown about when it comes to photos alone. tho what gg is wearing has an interesting story as shared by @rainbowsky here. some may say it’s the stylist and magazine’s choice but we still love seeing the association. In addition, the clothes were inspired by Nicole Kidman’s clothes in a Chanel perfume ad. i love the unconventional wedding dress choice here, it fits them! <3

moving on to the biggest way we can cpn tho is the interview & cover story.

i especially liked the questions, it wasn’t cutesy. it asked what needed to be asked.

here are some of the similarities i found with them and their outlook in life and career. 🤍

First of all, being professional is an unavoidable topic. You can have a non-major background, but you must have excellent professional skills. This is what I want to do, this is who I am. I feel that I am not enough, and i’m too far behind.

I think (improving acting skills) is a cumulative process. You can’t make a big step forward with just one movie. This is difficult for me to happen. So you have to keep filming, but you have to keep filming good films and don't consume yourself.

It’s the intent to be a better actor and the self awareness of not having that “background” people expect them to have. However, they can compensate by being professional. by being the hardest working person in the room. Sometimes I feel like it’s okay for them to praise themselves and not always be this critical, but i guess that’s what make them the best too cause they have high standards for themselves.

At present, I want to be an actor who makes the audience like you. Maybe everyone is not your fan, or even not particularly interested in you, but you know that he has a drama, Do you want to watch it? His dramas are all good. I want to do this. This is my current goal. Is it possible to become the actor I like? This is a rule.

THIS. This!!!!!! I feel like they both have this outlook. They don’t need every single person to be their “fan” but the goal is to become known and liked by the general public. That people are familiar with them as good actors with excellent works. It’s why there is absolutely no need to beat yourself up on who is the better fan. It doesn’t keep the boys up at night. Lol.

There are many. For example, Zhou Xun has always been my favorite actor.

Zhou Xun! Who has worked with WYB in various projects, primarily with Chanel! I hope ZZ gets to work with her too.

I used to take the subway every day. for me there’s nothing I can't do. What do you think I can do? Say hello and leave. It’s just that I don’t want to cause confusion and trouble for everyone or cause a bad reaction.

The two of them have the same intention of not wanting to cause trouble to the people. That means making sure their fans do not cause unnecessary public issues like gathering in certain places.

Everyone has their own boundaries, and some people have no sense of propriety. I stay away from such people, but when the boundaries are broken again and again and the bottom line is touched, I will get very angry.

Chongqing pepper is here! lol. I see them being very patient and understanding cause they know what people expect of celebrities. But they won’t also take things lying down. They will fight if need be.

In principle, I am a very rigid person. If I insist on something and I think it is right, it will be difficult to be convinced. For example, if I want to be an actor, I don’t want to do anything other than being an actor.

I just want to do it well, just try my best right now. Maybe the result is not good, but what should I do? This is all I can do.

Sounds familiar? Especially the part that says I want to do it well? They have the same braincell 🙃

Now let’s look at the cover story. First, i wanna point out the comment of the interviewer about ZZ: “Before meeting, I thought Xiao Zhan would be very cautious about interviews. To my surprise, Xiao Zhan had a rare sense of relaxation, answered all questions, and even had some humor.”

Which is actually a common misconception about XZ or — you know what? he was kind cautious before but as time goes by, he became more relaxed and candid with his answers. It’s still insightful, but not as practiced. In the Q&A, he mentioned that there are things that cannot be said. Setting boundaries like that. Similarly, WYB is the same. We’ve heard stuff saying that he is in a more relaxed state now. I love that for them!

I still sneak out to ride a bicycle, take a walk, and do a CityWalk. Only once, just now in after walking in the alley for 5 minutes, I was recognized. I also sneaked into the cinema to watch a movie. No one will care about you, really. after leaving the Internet, many things will be solved easily. Sometimes the world is right in front of us.

This goes out to everyone that says how can they go out? How are the CPNs of them spending time together be true? Well this is the answer. Sneaked into a cinema to watch a movie? I hope they do that together too ^^

When he goes to different cities, Xiao Zhan will bring the same type of pillows and quilts. "I will bring everything that can help me sleep well." He has also tried aromatherapy lamps, lavender essential oil, and various other products that make him fall asleep when applied on his body.

This is such an easy cpn for us. Remember that time DLS clowned WYB about the aromatherapy candles? HAHAHAHAHAHA!

-END.

[foundtherightwords]

🛒 🐀 🥁 "Hoard" thoughts 🛒 🐀 🥁

OK, so I've finally finished watching "Hoard" (after having to put it on hold because I got sensory overload from the damned Interview Magazine photoshoot!) and sufficiently recovered to gather my thoughts. Here they are (placed below the photo/cut to avoid spoilers, obvs):

First impression: It's a lot less gross than I was led to believe. Even the scene everybody claims to be the grossest (with the pop rocks) is not that gross to me. But maybe I'm just desensitized from watching too much Taskmaster lol (when you've watched a man eat hot toothpaste, dog food, burned porn, and a regurgitated donut all in the name of comedy, and whatever the hell this task is, nothing is gross anymore.)

In fact, I'm pleasantly surprised by how whimsical the movie is, especially the earlier scenes of Maria's childhood. Luna did a great job treading that fine line between magical (especially when seen from young Maria's POV) and grim (when seen from the audience's POV). Hayley Squires is amazing as Cynthia; there's so much strength and vulnerability in her character. Hers is the stand-out performance for me after Joe's.

Michael: I'm going to be biased here (of course I am, it's Joe) and say I don't find Michael as despicable as Luna and Joe himself made him out to be in interviews. Yes, a lot of this sympathy is thanks to Joe's performance (though I have to say he's excellent at adding a sinister undercurrent to everything Michael does, especially in the early scenes with Maria). But I think Michael is struggling just as much as Maria, and he doesn't have the support system like Maria does (with her foster mum or her friend) to pull him out of it. His fiancee seems sweet, but she's clueless (and honestly, I was screaming at her to just leave his smelly ass at the end! You don't need him!) I can see how his actions can be interpreted as manipulative and predatory because he's so much older than Maria and already in a relationship. Still, when you think about how both Michael and Maria don't have a normal childhood and they're trying to recapture that sense of childhood with each other, then you can say Maria is in control of the action much more than he is (he freaks out when she goes off on her own and insists that "We do this together", like a little kid). @ceriseheaven has an excellent interpretation that Michael is the personification of grief for Maria, which I heartily agree with and want to add that, if Michael is grief to Maria, then Maria is childhood for him, the childhood he never had (and the fact that he's about to be a dad himself is driving this home for him, making him even more desperate for that taste of joy before he has to be a real grown-up.) This is why the sex sours it for both of them, I believe. It makes everything too real. Everybody keeps talking about Joe's improv of the line "Please love me," but for me, it's the line before that - "Is it that hard [to love me]?" - that really breaks my heart and epitomizes Michael's character.

My quibble: pacing. I find the first half of the movie kind of slow, and the second half almost breakneck in pace, so much so that I was surprised when Michelle claims it's been 5 months since Maria left school (it felt like 5 days to me!) Maybe it's intentional on Luna's part, but I wish it could have been more evenly paced so we could really get into Maria's downward spiral and see how her hoard builds up gradually. The last 15 minutes or so, starting with the confrontation with Michael in her room (the "Please love me" scene), is the most powerful to me, but because of the pacing, the ending feels kind of rushed. I guess the catalyst that shocks Maria out of her hoarding is the encounter with the hit-and-run victim, but it feels a little out of nowhere. After all that dysfunction, I wasn't expecting it to be wrapped up so neatly (yes, there is the hint that Maria may be pregnant, but she seems to have made peace with everything.) I'm going to watch it again to see if this impression changes.

Finally: why doesn't Sky Store have subtitles for their films? I'm at that age now where I can't hear without subtitles, and half of the time I have no idea what the characters are saying (their thick East London accent doesn't help.)

So, all in all, a very interesting film, not my type at all (my taste in film is very conventional haha), but it's a testament to Luna's talent that she manages to deliver such a personal story in a way that resonates with the audience regardless of our experiences, and I'm glad it's been brought to our attention thanks to Joe. I'm definitely going to rewatch it (several times!) to pick apart the story and the characters more carefully.

[yuusishi]

Could I request headcanons of Octavinelle trio with an athlete s/o? Basketball, baseball, water polo, swimming, you name it! They can do it all!

...TERRESTRIAL WONDER!

pairings : Azul Ashengrotto , Jade Leech , Floyd Leech x gn!reader

genre : fluff , kinda crack?

cws/tws : Reader is referred to as “Shrimpy” but isn’t Yuu

Azul Ashengrotto !!

What the hell.

Not in a bad way, of course, more in amazement. He can't fathom how a human can even manage so many sports at the same time.

He can barely survive in PE class while you're out here participating in multiple sports related activities.

He can’t say that he doesn’t admire you for it, whether you do it as a hobby or because you want to be a professional athlete, he finds your drive part of your many amazing qualities.

Sometimes you even motivate him to become better at PE! Especially if you’re in the same class, he can’t be caught failing in front of his crush, can he?

If you participate in any competitions, tournaments, etc. expect him to show up to support you, occasionally he might be with one of the tweels to help cheer you on.

You could be in a basketball competition with a trio of tall (and scary) mermen sitting with the audience. Normally people would be intimidated by them since they’re the infamous Octavinelle trio, but seeing them happily cheer you on would be a sight for sore eyes.

He’d be the first to greet your after your game, congratulating and praising you whether you won or lost. He’d just be so supportive of you :)

If you lost, he’d comfort you with some Monstro Lounge food on the house, same thing to celebrate if you win.

Jade Leech !!

He’d be very impressed with you, but you can’t really tell since he has his customer service smile 24/7.

Merfolk are generally stronger than regular humans since their muscles are trained for swimming, so seeing you accomplish things that merfolk can do as a human makes him curious about you.

I think he’d see you for the first time when he was attending one of Floyd’s basketball game, another game was playing before his and you were on the team.

He watched you play in order to pass time until Floyd’s game. Jade isn’t that interest in sports, preferring more peaceful activities like his mountain climbing, but something about watching you play piqued his interest.

He got lucky and you decided to stop by Monstro Lounge to relax, that’s when he got a chance to have a conversation with you, and the rest is history.

If you decide to establish your own sports club like how he established the mountain climbing club, he’d say that you two are matching now.

He’d prepare you snacks or a meal after practice sessions to help you recharge, or if you’re not in the mood to eat he’d hang out with you at either your dorm room or his.

He doesn't like flight lessons (though he's not as bad as Azul), but just like Octavinelle's housewarden, he tries harder in flight lessons if you're there. He isn't the type to try to impress people, but for you he might try just a little bit.

Floyd Leech !!

His little Shrimpy is so cool and amazing!!

Your number 1 hypeman fr, he'd show up to EVERY game you play in and give you a BIG squeeze after.

If you lost a game or feeling bad about your progress in improving one of the sports you play, he'd try to cheer you up in his own strange ways.

"Eh~? Shrimpy feels sad 'cause they aren't gettin' better at their sport? That's a little dumb, ya know~? Not like ya can just be an MVP out of the blue"

He definitely accidentally says wise things...

Floyd would also help you practice sometimes since he's also a sports player, depends on his mood though.

If you're on par with Floyd's skill level in basketball he gets REALLY hyped up during your practice rounds and has that scary look in his eyes, but you know that he means no real hostility.

Would ask if you wanted to join the NRC team, he'd be overjoyed if you said yes and sad if you rejected his offer.

Would also invite you to after school 2v2 games with Jamil and Ace! Playing with his Shrimpy against his teammates is his favorite activity.

[whomstwedointheshadows]

THE NICEST POSSIBLE INTERPRETATION of PAUL SIMMS

I suggest using this as deposition prep when Nandermo sues for emotional damages.

Earlier in the panel, the writers confirmed a plot card exists on the wall in their writers room with Nandor + Guillermo + Kiss. Look, they’ve thought about it before!

‘People’ even want it. Whomst could be amongst thee people, he’s not naming names. Ignore the history of queerbaiting as a grand tradition of showrunners, did those showrunners ever tell you the writers room periodically comes back to the discussion of a ship and keep a dedicated index card of space to a potential kiss?

So as far as explicit statement that Nandermo ship is not sexual, keep your showy gays away- Paul does not restate it in exact terms. He still support that it’s a love story- even if that love story is not as we want it right now. He’s not confirming in this statement it’s a chaste one of ONLY boss/employee nor is he saying it cannot grow into another form.

Furthermore, this entire statement is in response to a question. So, he confirms the foundation of love story, divergence between what is desired at this moment and what the writers intend, and even the framing as turning=infidelity/broken trust. Now, just because it wasn’t sexual doesn’t mean it doesn’t impact their greater love story.

I think it’s very useful to dig in here to the actual question poised to Paul; the question explicitly eliminates Paul giving a response that acknowledges the plotline as explicitly romance-advancing in function.

(Even if this plotline is instrumental in their greater romantic storyline and personal journeys which may become romantic.)

His response has to be about the connection between them, and he cannot just respond, “oh because they love each other deeply and wanna fuck.” It’s a nuanced response to a question which took away a romance pairing between the two to explain it as about the interpersonal dynamic. That’s also not the driving factor of the characters.

I also think the writers know what ship they made, and constantly have address the question of Is It Ready Yet? Could, from a creator perspective making a show that is character driven, see a difference between ‘just hook up already’ because that’s what the fans want and these two characters become the richest possible combination because of how they grew together? I don’t know about you, but I tweet about just fucking do it already and write long metas on tumblr about epic loves. I want to see an epic story, not just doing something to get it off their backs.

Here’s the big quote:

Knowing that these questions were prewritten, screened, and answers were practiced because that’s their job on a panel to be prepared, it’s striking to me there was no denial of an explicit romantic relationship. He answered a carefully worded question with a carefully developed response. He’s about to get flustered by an audience interaction, and then dig a deeper hole.

Okay, now here comes our true soldier in the trenches interrupting the panel.

Does that final response not feel scripted? I wonder if the writers for an improv comedy show like to pull off jokes and throw people the scent. Or could that be an actual joke? Did they just spend the first four seasons giving Guillermo more autonomy and power and season 5 see Nandor fighting for his attention?

Or is it amusing to see someone twist themselves in knots trying not to state the obvious? Would the writers really be so unaware of everything else problematic on the show?

Just take a minute to think about the humor on this show. Does this feel like a bit to move the conversation along, away from the thing they don’t want to give anything away?

The love between them doesn’t just have to be sexual. {They could also be like, best friends, or something, like Lazlo and Nadja. Do you think there’s more than one type of love you can have for someone?}

Or, if you’re doing press for your show and your job today is to talk to the media and get the hype for season 6 and confirm filming in Jan, do you maybe have some tricksy talking points that will generate interest and capture attention while also preserving a surprise element. If I didn’t want to give too much away about the new season, especially if it was driven by the final episode and had some major developments on a personal and interpersonal level, I wouldn’t leave much room for further questions, probably drop the big news item to make sure the attention stays on that. Maybe the person doing the interview is a professional and knows the things a showrunner won’t give away before it airs, so there isn’t going to be a hard press to circle back unless the writers do it during their response time.

Also, look at the reiteration the writers explore multiple paths and pick the best one. They certainly picked an interesting option, if the goal was not to bathe the ship in romance tropes.

Oh wait, it looks like one writer (also exec producer) who won’t say spoilers wants to make sure there’s one last hook thrown out there. Almost like it’s softening the response from Simms from a ‘nope’ to a ‘watch and see’ like planned remarks at the end of a panel, or something.

My interpretation of Sam’s comment, in the most generous to shippers, is- this is a driving engine and intentional plot of our show. We want to make the best show. They pay off of getting together has to be worth it and interesting. It’s integral to the story we are telling. Part of our story is the journey and we’re on our timetable, not to rush this.

So, what does Guillermo want?

Can you think of why he’d stick around the vampires, as per the format, if not to become one?

TLDR: the bait is still on the hook. They’re going to keep it there as long as possible. Nothing has been ruled out, in fact it seems like they’re actually building against what they say would be the problematic aspects. I wonder if comedy writers ever a) keep secrets before something is even filmed so who knows what they decide is the best pathway on an improv show or b) tell jokes in plain sight. If they do things to twist our expectations.

It’s a queer show, so this is not queer baiting. It’s just a Will-they-Won’t-they. There are a lot of choices in plot and character arcs which point to someone in the writers room being fluent in better queer characters if not relationship representation. One would think, as a writer, they would Know Their History of Queerbaiting and associated tropes. {Personally, the ‘No One Dies in Shadows’ seems like a nose bop at Buffy, but that’s a meta for another day. }

I find the boss/employee line so unserious considering everything else in the show, and I wonder what tumblr would be like if we focused on the Kiss Card left on the writer’s wall instead.

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Squanchy's Terrible Stand-up Phase

Finally, finally, i'm posting this fic that I've had in my WIPs for almost 2 years now 😅 thank you to everyone who submitted an ask for a snippet/commented on them, it helped me get some confidence and motivation to finally finish and post this!

I'm sure the title gives away the time period this is set in 😅 it's some messy unrequited(?) Birdrick with a bit of everything - we've got pining, we've got smut, we've got angst, we've got mating season, we've got a very specific James Acaster reference.

Summary: A mishap during one of Squanchy's stand-up performances gives Rick and Birdperson the chance to act on some feelings. ~6k words.

“Hey everybody, I’m Squanchy! I just flew in from the Andromeda system and, boy, are my arms tired!” 

The short feline’s voice rings out across the room, met with silence from all but two members of the audience, who give awkward, forced laughs. If Squanchy is aware of his friends’ insincerity, he shows no signs of caring, grinning happily and carrying on. 

“Haha, nah, I’m just squanchin’ with you guys. How ‘bout that space-line food, huh? Anyway, I was on my way over here, and I was squanchin’ next to this guy, right, this Zofleepian dude…” 

As he launches into a squanch-heavy spiel, Rick and Birdperson both glance away from the stage and meet each other’s gaze with twin grimaces. Somehow, Squanchy has landed a gig as the warm-up guy for what is apparently a fairly popular act, meaning that the venue is significantly bigger and busier than any he’s performed at before, either doing stand-up or as part of The Flesh Curtains. As such, the two other band members have found themselves seated mostly out of sight and earshot of the stage. Small mercies.

Birdperson turns to Rick and speaks quietly.

“Rick, I realise I am not a comedy expert, but I must admit that Squanchy is… not good at this.”

Rick snorts. “That’s putting it lightly! And how are you just now realising? D-do you not remember any of his other shows?”

“It is true that Squanchy’s stand-up has not been particularly up to standard in the past, but I thought that he would have made some improvement by now.”

Rick makes a show of looking around the room, then turns to Birdperson with a devilish grin and leans in to whisper surreptitiously. 

“Well, you know, it is a pretty big crowd. I don’t think he’d miss us if we snuck out.”

Birdperson's face shifts, subtly, but Rick knows him well enough to recognise it as an expression of disapproval, and feels a flicker of panic and defensiveness start to rise in his chest.

“Rick, Squanchy is our friend. We must support him, even in his flaws, just as we support you in yours.” 

Birdperson’s words sting, and Rick’s guard comes up even more. 

“W-whatever.” he grumbles. “Geez, I was just joking, Pers. D-d-don’t get your feathers in a bunch.”

Rick shifts in his seat so that he’s facing away from Birdperson, crossing his arms over his chest. He feels a gentle touch on his hand, making his breath catch in his throat. Although he’s loath to admit it, even to himself, Rick is developing a serious crush on his ex-bandmate slash roommate slash best friend, and he can’t help but turn back to Birdperson. The other man is looking at him with concern in his serious deep brown eyes.

“Rick, it was not my intention to offend you. However, I do not wish to upset Squanchy by leaving.” 

Birdperson speaks matter-of-factly as ever, but he doesn’t remove his hand from Rick’s. Rick tries to breathe normally, to act as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Despite many, many hookups, he hasn’t felt this way about anyone since Diane, giddy and sappy and in love. He knows how delicate love is, how easily it can break or be taken away, and is acutely aware of the consequences. He’s still angry and bitter and hurting, and he doesn’t know if he could take any more of those feelings that would inevitably come with another relationship. However, he’s been starting to notice small, almost imperceptible changes in Birdperson’s behaviour recently, and it’s becoming increasingly harder to convince himself to ignore them, tell himself he’s reading too much into things, and that anyway it’s not worth the risk of letting himself be vulnerable and getting his heart broken all over again. 

Unfortunately, despite what Rick might like to think about himself, however logical and intelligent and detached he might like to believe himself to be, he knows that he’s a slave to his own emotions. No amount of reasoning or experience can stop the butterflies from swirling furiously in his stomach when he sees Birdperson smile at him, or beat his powerful wings in flight, or emerge glistening from the shower with only a towel concealing his dick from Rick’s longing gaze. 

He hates the fact that Birdperson always manages to sneak past his defences, hates knowing that Birdperson can get away with almost anything because the part of Rick’s brain that’s meant to be in charge of his emotions suddenly forgets all negativity when it comes to BP. There are only two other people Rick has ever known who he could never stay angry with, and both of them are dead. 

He can’t afford to let that happen again, but he’s helpless at the hands of his crush. 

Rick snaps back to the present with a blink. He’s speechless, half because he doesn’t know how to respond without fucking things up, and half because the light touch of his friend’s hand on his is taking up all of the processing power in his brain. Instead of saying anything, he flashes a helpless, almost sheepish smile at Birdperson, who mirrors the expression and moves his hand ever so slightly so that he can squeeze Rick’s hand in his. The feeling is so intense that Rick has to avert his eyes, and he hopes the dimmed lighting above the audience is enough to hide the heat he can feel in his cheeks. 

Luckily for him, it’s not long before a distraction arrives. An audience member, apparently dissatisfied with the stand-up and clearly very inebriated by some sort of illicit substance, stumbles up onto the stage, much to the jeers and cheers of the rest of the audience.

“I can do better than this shit!” he declares. “So, I was at Birding Man last year, and in the tent next to mine, I could hear this couple going at it, you know what I mean? Yeah you do! And the guy goes ‘I’m gonna cum in your pussy’!” 

Squanchy stares on in disbelief, and the noise of the crowd drops instantly into stunned silence, the atmosphere palpably different from moments before. The interrupter seems to panic, and repeats, even louder, “I’m gonna cum in your pussy!”

Still receiving no response, the man suddenly takes drastic action in the form of dropping his pants and starting to masturbate furiously. Almost immediately, the audience roars to life, booing and jeering and shouting. As the room around him devolves into chaos, Rick feels a tug on his hand. He looks to see Birdperson standing up and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Birdperson makes a hasty retreat amid the pandemonium and Rick follows, neither of them dropping the other’s hand. 

They exit into a foyer, where Rick expects Birdperson to stop. However, he heads for a door, which he opens to reveal a supply closet.

“Let us wait it out in here.” he says simply, and Rick shrugs.

“Eh, sure.” 

They both enter, pulling the door shut behind them. Rick perches on a small table, while Birdperson leans against a wall opposite him. The room is small enough to force them into each other’s personal space, and Rick has to try hard to keep his composure.

“So, uh, what happened to not leaving?” Rick asks, trying to seem casual.

“My main concern was that Squanchy would see us leaving, or otherwise notice our absence. However, I think he should be sufficiently distracted for a while.” 

Birdperson is close enough that Rick can feel the air brush against his face when he speaks. Rick has to stop himself from shivering at the feeling. He focuses so hard on not reacting that he doesn’t notice another, much more visible, sign of his arousal until Birdperson addresses it.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, Rick Sanchez, or are you just happy to see me?” 

His tone is almost exactly the same as always, but Rick can detect the note of cheekiness in it. He quickly crosses his legs and looks away, knowing this time that his blush is definitely visible. His mind and mouth both scramble for an excuse, but before either can form anything even remotely coherent, Birdperson speaks again.

“Rick, if I may be frank, I think that we might be able to help each other out. The truth is, it is approaching mating season for my people, and I am starting to feel the effects of it.”

Rick can’t quite believe his ears. He wants this so badly, and if it was anyone but BP, he wouldn’t hesitate. However, fucking things up with a stranger in a bar is very different to fucking things up with your best friend and roommate, and Rick doesn’t trust himself to read the situation correctly.

“W-w-what’re you sayin’, Pers?”

“If you wish, we should have sex.” Rick stiffens, but Birdperson continues. “During mating season, my people experience greatly heightened libido, and you are clearly in a similar state of arousal, so I believe it would be mutually beneficial.” 

Something about hearing Birdperson state things so simply really turns Rick on. He’s no stranger to directness or dirty talk, yet something about Birdperson’s factual candour sends a jolt of passion through him.  

“Rick, if I have misread the situation or overstepped my boundaries, I apologise. I-” Birdperson’s deep voice snaps Rick out of his reverie and Rick realises how long he must have paused.

“N-n-n-n-no it’s fine! I would love to have sex with you!” he blurts, the words pouring out before he even realises what they are. As soon as he processes what he’s just said, he panics immensely. Goddammit, what is it about this man that turns his brain to mush? Rick’s wildly out of his depth, used to being smooth and suave and confident around his romantic interests. The flustered nervousness is unfamiliar to him, and he has no idea how to act. Without a script, more words hurry out of his mouth. 

“Fuck! I mean, I, uh, I would be happy to help you out! I mean-”

“Rick.” Birdperson interrupts, calmly, quietly, yet assertively enough that Rick instantly falls silent. A brief flicker of arousal passes through his body as his brain readily supplies a fantasy of Birdperson using this exact tone in the bedroom and - no! Not fucking now!

“It seems you are uncomfortable. If I have done anything to cause this, I offer my apologies.”

“No, no, Pers, it’s OK! It’s just, um…” Rick pauses, trying to work out how much he can afford to give away. He takes a deep breath and lets his guard down, just a little. “I-I just… didn’t think you would be interested in me like that.”

“You mean sexually?”

Rick nods, unable to meet Birdperson’s gaze. How is it that he can normally say and hear the most explicit, filthy things without so much as batting an eye, but even the tamest comment from Birdperson has him acting like a schoolboy with his first crush?

“So you feel insecure? Is that the only reason?” 

Birdperson’s statement, combined with his unexpectedly gentle voice, catches Rick off guard. Part of him fights against the vulnerability, coiling defensively in his stomach like a snake, while another longs to relax into the safety of Birdperson’s soothing tone. The maelstrom of thoughts and emotions trick Rick’s brain into allowing the truth to slip out of his mouth before he can even process what the truth is.

“I feel like I’d be… betraying Diane, or, or cheating on her.” 

“Forgive me, Rick, but I do not understand. You have ‘hooked up’ with many people since I have known you. Why is this different?”

Rick panics, not sure how to get out of this situation. His frantic brain can’t cook up any lies, so he settles for a half-truth, omitting as much as he can.

“All those hookups are people I didn’t know or care about. None of them meant anything… it was just sex. We’re… friends.”

“So it is different to have sex with friends?” Birdperson asks. Rick nods, not sure how to elaborate without giving away his feelings. They’re still fresh and raw, and he’s not ready to reveal them yet. Thankfully, Birdperson continues.

“Is this a human concept?”

“Y-yeah, I guess so. I never really thought about it. Humans usually only have casual sex or sex within relationships.” 

Even as he’s saying the words, he knows they’re not strictly true. Plenty of people were friends with benefits - he and Diane with Nimbus, for instance - but he’s found an excuse and he’s too much of a pussy to offer any information that might raise questions. 

Birdperson’s brow furrows as he mulls the concept over. 

“This is interesting. Although I never had any friends on my home planet, I know that it is very common for my people to help relieve their friends during mating season. We have two terms, messoo yabah and messoo sorah - ‘flesh mate’ and ‘spirit mate’. ‘Flesh mate’ is for someone you have sex with - a friend or stranger - and ‘spirit mate’ is for a life partner, with whom you would have children and a soul bond. I had assumed that ‘hook up’ was equivalent to mesoo yabah.”

Rick raises one side of his brow. Birdperson looks so similar to him, it’s easy to forget that he’s not just a human with bird features, but a member of an entirely different species, with different customs and views around things such as sex and relationships. 

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.” 

“Forgive me, Rick, I did not realise that my offer would be out of the ordinary for your species. It seems that we have encountered another cultural difference.”

Rick coughs out a nervous laugh. “Y-yeah.”

They stand in awkward silence for a few moments, the small distance between them only adding to the tension, thickening it so that Rick struggles to breathe. 

Eventually, Birdperson breaks the silence.

“I did not understand the gravity of what I was asking. If you wish, we can simply move on and not mention this ever again.”

A tiny, cowardly part of Rick wants to seize the opportunity to run away from his problems, but the rest of his being is crying out for Birdperson so thoroughly that he knows he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t take this chance. 

“N-no! Let’s, let’s do it!” Rick cringes at how enthusiastic and awkward he sounds.

“Are you certain? I do not wish to pressure you into anything. I would not have asked had I realised the implications for you.”

“No, Pers, i-it’s OK. I’m not exactly like most humans anyway. Besides, what else are we supposed to do while we’re waiting for this to blow over?” Rick gestures vaguely in the direction of the performance room, where the sounds of struggle are still audible.

“If this is truly something you want, I need to hear you say it.” Birdperson stares intensely into Rick’s eyes. Rick swallows but finds he can’t look away.

“I want this. I want you. Now.”

Almost before Rick can process what’s happening, Birdperson has closed the tiny space between them, one hand squarely in the small of his back, the other arm wrapped around his shoulders, their lips meeting more gently than Rick would have expected. Rick feels his body melt into Birdperson’s touch, the tension leaving his muscles and instead pooling into his growing erection. He kisses back hungrily, fuelled by the months of pining and suppressing his attraction, reaching to wrap his own arms around Birdperson, burying his fingers deep into his friend’s feathers. Birdperson seems to take this as a cue, pulling Rick even closer to him and allowing his lips to fall apart to make way for Rick’s eager tongue. 

Rick feels Birdperson’s hand trail down to rest on his hip and squeeze his ass. The touch coaxes a gasp from his mouth and Birdperson pulls back. Rick’s brain protests the loss of sensation, a low whine spilling out.

“Is this acceptable?” Birdperson murmurs, his eyes inquisitive and caring.

“Yes, God, yes, Pers, please.”

That’s all the confirmation Birdperson needs to swallow Rick’s mouth up with his own once again. Rick digs his fingers deeper into Birdperson’s plumage and is rewarded with a shaky exhale directly into his own mouth. Feeling the consequences of his own actions sends yet more blood coursing downwards and he can’t help but push his crotch against Birdperson’s hip at the sensation. As he does, he feels Birdperson’s boner pressing into his thigh and his own cock throbs in response.

Birdperson lets his hand drift even further down, claws brushing tantalisingly against Rick’s inner thigh. He’s careful not to cause any actual damage, but Rick is so desperate for more that it feels like torture anyway. 

Rick has to pull his mouth away to breathe, panting as though he were the one in heat, but keeps their bodies as close to each other as possible.

“Pers, please, I need you to take me.” he moans.

“You want me to fuck you?” Birdperson is so straightforward it’s almost unbearable.

“Yes, God, yes!”

“Do you have lube?”

“In my-in my wallet.” Rick moans, fighting to get the words out as Birdperson’s claws still caress his delicate skin.    

Birdperson removes the stimulating hand to retrieve the lube from Rick’s jean pocket, letting his mouth suck Rick’s neck with such primal abandon he could just as well be devouring the flesh instead of kissing it. The sensation only heightens the burning ache that Birdperson’s hand is no longer satisfying and Rick could almost cry with need. In desperation, he reaches his own hand down to stroke his dick.

Birdperson places his hand firmly on Rick’s shoulder and turns him around, bending him forward over the desk. His clawed hands come forward to rest on Rick’s belt buckle.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, the words tickling their way down Rick’s neck.

“Yes!”

Birdperson’s hands undo the buckle agonisingly slowly before finally pulling Rick’s jeans down to expose his bare ass. Rick hears the sounds of Birdperson tearing open the packet of lube and applying it to his own dick. As he does so, he keeps his lips next to Rick’s ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and mutters,

“Do you know how often I have fantasised about doing this? Whenever I am behind you during a performance, or in the kitchen, and I see these jeans clinging to you, all I can think about is pulling them down and bending you over the table.”

A distant part of Rick’s brain is surprised by this information, but horniness takes over as Birdperson’s comment riles him up so much that he writhes with impatience.

All of a sudden, strong hands, one still slippery with lube, grab his hips, stilling their motion. A breath stutters its way from Rick’s lungs and his brain short-circuits and he thinks for a second he might come from that alone. Just when he thinks he’s reached the peak of pleasure, a finger probes its way into his entrance, the claw retracted.

“Oh god, please, more.” He’s not sure if the words are even comprehensible, pulled from his mouth by Birdperson’s stroking finger. More sounds that could be words or could just as easily be mindless gasps of pleasure spill out, begging for more.

Rick’s moans become a whine as he feels the finger retreat, only to change back to a cry as he finally feels Birdperson’s cock inside him. He gasps until he feels like his lungs will burst, letting the air out in a series of moans as Birdperson begins to thrust. Rick’s fingers curl around the edge of the desk until his knuckles go white. Birdperson’s hands are on his hips again, his claws pricking against Rick’s skin in a way that feels so good, the pain mixing with the pleasure like the delicious contrast of salt against sweetness.

All Rick’s aware of is hands on his hips, dick inside him, both of them belonging to Birdperson. The sensations build and build until they breach the barrier, overwhelming his brain and body in a flood of endorphins. Rick’s legs shake so violently that he collapses into the table, warmth shooting from the end of his cock. He cries out, held aloft by a cloud of pleasure, his orgasm tingling throughout his body. Distantly, he’s aware of Birdperson coming inside him with an animalistic cry, and he wants to commit the experience to memory forever, but the thought quickly slips from his grasp, lost to the haze of his climax.

After what could be a second or a decade, Birdperson withdraws, leaving Rick with a vague feeling of emptiness.

“Are you alright?” he asks, still breathless. Rick nods, his own breathing heavy and rapid. Birdperson turns Rick over with incredible gentleness and brushes his hair from his sweaty forehead, his hand coming to rest in Rick’s hair. Rick feels his heart evaporate in his chest.

Birdperson rests his forehead against Rick’s, their hot breath coasting over each other’s skin. Despite what they’ve just done, Rick can’t help but feel shy at this level of intimacy. At the same time, he never wants it to end. 

Regrettably, it does.

“We should clean up.” Birdperson states, his tone so businesslike that Rick gets a sinking feeling that this didn’t mean as much to Birdperson as it did to him.

Rick gestures vaguely, his overloaded brain taking a few seconds to find the words. “Wipes… in my wallet.”

Birdperson retrieves them, a small smile gracing his face. “You really are prepared for every situation.” 

Rick wants to retort with his signature snark and perhaps just a touch of flirtatiousness, but he can’t conjure up anything, instead letting his mouth curve into what he’s sure is a ridiculous lovestruck grin.

He’s almost disappointed when Birdperson hands him a wipe instead of cleaning Rick up himself, but he tries to bring his mind back to reality. It’s probably a good thing for him to do this himself, instead of allowing himself to become dependent on someone else. They clean themselves - and the desk - up in silence.

Birdperson clears his throat. “We should hydrate. I will locate water.”

He adjusts his clothing so that he’s decent - much easier when your only garment is a skirt - and exits the room, presumably in search of the aforementioned water. Rick realises that he should do the same, and wrangles his orgasm-weakened body back into his jeans before lowering himself to the floor and leaning against the wall.

After a few minutes, Birdperson returns with bottled water, a tray of fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres, and a mischievous smirk.

Rick raises one side of his brow. “Where exactly did you find this?”

Birdperson rests the tray on the desk and removes the lid from the bottle. 

“I may have liberated them from a nearby Witi Fri.” he raises the bottle to his lips and takes a swig before offering it to Rick.

Rick takes the bottle with a grin, revelling in the moments Birdperson’s rebellious side shines through, contrasting with his apparently straight-laced persona. Witi Fris - disgustingly extravagant displays of wealth - are held by Tt’orees, just the sort of people who deserve to be relieved of some of their fancy party snacks. Rick drinks eagerly, the water blessing his parched throat, trying not to think too hard about his lips resting where Birdperson’s had only moments earlier.

Birdperson picks up the tray once again and sits down next to Rick, the enclosed space forcing them close together. Birdperson swings an arm around Rick, making him almost choke on the water he’s swallowing. He rests the tray across both their laps and picks up one of the snacks, popping it into his mouth in a way that Rick swears is flirtatious. He stares dumbly for a few seconds until Birdperson nudges him.

“While I have no objection to eating this entire platter myself, social norms dictate that I am obliged to share.”

Rick smiles shakily before handing the bottle back to Birdperson and taking one of the hors d’oeuvres, some sort of tart filled with veiny purple leaves and a bitty grey substance. It wouldn’t seem appetising to most humans, but Rick is familiar enough with alien foods that it doesn’t bother him. He places it into his mouth and finds it to be wonderfully umami with just a hint of sweetness. The taste breaks his appetite and he finds himself shovelling down more, not stopping until he hears a faint chuckle next to him. 

Rick’s eyes flicker across guiltily to Birdperson, realising he’s eaten most of the tray already.

“Whoops.” he mumbles flatly, dropping his gaze to his lap. Birdperson’s hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

After a few moments, Rick feels Birdperson’s gaze burning into him in a way he can’t ignore. When he turns to face Birdperson, his friend is wearing a concerned expression and Rick knows exactly what’s coming.

“Rick.” Birdperson begins in his serious manner. “Now that our physical needs have been taken care of, are you alright… emotionally?”

Rick stares into Birdperson’s eyes, the eyes of someone who can penetrate through any walls or facades he puts up, eyes full of care. Even though he’d been steeling himself for the question, something about the tenderness in Birdperson’s expression breaks him. A strangled sob chokes its way from his throat before he can stop it. His hand flies up to cover his mouth, too late to hide the outburst of emotion. Rick frantically tries to pull himself together but the floodgates have been opened and there’s no way he can push them shut again until the raging tide has calmed. He feels Birdperson wrap his other arm around him and buries his head in his friend’s shoulder to spare himself at least the embarrassment of Birdperson seeing his face as he breaks down.

Birdperson holds Rick tightly, one hand reaching up to stroke his hair gently. Rick feels his body spasm with sobs that wrench themselves from his lungs, hyper-aware of the tears and snot making a humiliating mess of his face. Birdperson makes a strange, melodic cooing sound, something from his native language that Rick doesn’t have a hope of understanding but can assume is meant to be reassuring. 

Eventually, his body begins to tire itself out, and Birdperson’s repetition soothes his brain. Rick sniffles and takes a deep breath.

“I just… I miss her so much, Pers.” his voice is thick with emotion, and he cringes at its sound. “I’m meant to be out here finding her killer, finding Beth’s killer, but I can’t do it. I know I can’t do it, so I try to numb myself, with alcohol, and drugs, and sex, but it doesn’t work, a-and other times it works too well and all I can think is what a monster I am for having a good time when my daughter is dead.” Rick’s breath hitches dangerously on the final word and he has to fight to keep from collapsing back into sobs again.

Birdperson’s repetitive coo changes into another phrase from his language, before he switches back to common.

“Rick, I am sorry. I could tell you that you do not need to feel guilty, that it is not your fault, that your revenge will not bring them back, but I know that this is not what you want to hear. I know that it is not what I would want to hear. I can only offer my comfort and solidarity in having something taken from you that you can never get back. Even if our rebellion against the Gromflomites succeeds, it will not bring back all the people and culture lost to their invasion. It will not bring back my parents. But I still intend to, as you say, ’kick their insect asses’.”

A harsh, tearful laugh breaks through Rick’s sadness for a moment. Rick clutches onto Birdperson, the pain still stabbing through his chest, puncturing his lungs and snagging his breathing, feeling the slightest relief and appreciation for his friend knowing him well enough not to offer meaningless platitudes. He takes some small solace in their shared pain.

Birdperson continues to hold Rick, his digits stroking gentle, comforting patterns into Rick’s back and scalp, until Rick pulls back, scrubbing furiously at his streaming eyes and nose.

“Fuck.” he whispers, pulling his hands down his face and flicking away tears. He clears his throat roughly. “OK. I’m good.”

Birdperson squeezes Rick’s shoulder. “We do not have to return if you do not wish to.”

The offer is tempting, but Rick knows that he can’t hide here forever. 

“No, i-it’s OK. We’d better get back before Squanchy notices we’re missing.” he pauses, then adds, “But maybe I should find a bathroom first.”

Luckily, there’s a bathroom just around the corner. Birdperson waits while Rick blows his nose and splashes water on his face before they make their way back to the performance hall. Rick feels exhausted, but Birdperson’s reassuring touches and smiles give him just enough energy to force himself to carry on. 

Thankfully, they manage to slip back into their seats without being noticed. Somehow, the crisis has resolved itself and Squanchy is now back to performing his terrible routine. Rick’s hazy brain manages to clock the jokes as being near the end of the routine and he sends a silent prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that he doesn’t have to deal with more standup on top of everything else.

Mercifully soon, Squanchy’s routine ends, and the host comes onstage to announce the main act. Squanchy leaves the stage and joins them, a huge grin on his face.

“I think that went pretty well!” he whispers to them.

Rick and Birdperson exchange a brief incredulous look, but offer encouraging smiles anyway.

Neither of them are particularly interested in seeing the main act, and Squanchy’s lashing tail betrays his burning need to talk about his performance, so they get up and leave. Rick remains mostly quiet for the walk back, allowing Squanchy to fill the air with excited ramblings about the evening.

When they make it back home, Squanchy decides to celebrate by - to no one’s surprise - getting high. Rick retires to bed but, despite the exhaustion plaguing his mind and body, fails to sleep, his mind preoccupied with trying to process the evening’s events. At one point, he hears Birdperson’s footsteps approaching and his heart soars at the thought of Birdperson coming to his room. Before he can smother the feeling, he hears Birdperson’s door open and shut, the sound reverberating through his abdomen like a punch. 

Idiot. 

He should’ve known not to get his hopes up, but he had anyway. He rolls out of bed and sits at his desk, pulling out his latest project. He stares blankly for a few minutes before trying to tinker with it, but quickly pushes it away in frustration. Another few minutes pass before he hauls himself out of the chair and wanders into the living room to find Squanchy draped across the top of the couch.

Squanchy slurs something that Rick assumes is a greeting and holds out a zazzle worm in offering. Rick accepts and collapses into the sofa before taking a hit. He glances to the TV, which is playing some sort of documentary in a language that neither of them speak. Squanchy is entranced anyway, giggling and lazily batting a paw in its direction. Rick takes another hit, closing his eyes and letting the waves of inebriation wash over him. When he next opens them, he notices the swirling colours of the TV. The alien sounds of the narration vibrate his ears and tickle his brain. The couch cushions, notoriously uncomfortable and hard, soften like clouds as they allow his body to sink into them.

When he comes to, it’s with a pounding in his head and a weight on his chest. He hears a groan that sounds just like he feels, and forces his eyes open to see Squanchy curled up on top of him, Rick’s own body sprawled across the couch.

Rick tries to sit up and Squanchy falls to the floor with a yelp.

“S-sorry, man.” Rick groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. Squanchy blinks, his eyelids drooping.  

Gradually, the two of them haul themselves to their feet, fumbling through cupboards in search of painkillers. Eventually, Squanchy finds some while Rick identifies the glass that looks least like a biohazard from the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and fills it with water. They take turns swallowing the much needed pills. 

Rick begins to stumble in the direction of his room. After only a few steps, he gives up and collapses back onto the sofa. He feels Squanchy clamber up to join him, settling across the back of the couch. Thankfully, the grogginess doesn’t take long to pull him back into blissful unconsciousness.

The front door slams and Rick shoots awake.

He hears a voice in the hallway, unfamiliar but distinctly feminine. He glances up to see Squanchy still passed out, drooling and twitching, and feels his heart begin to sink. Laughter rings out, a high-pitched giggle and a deep rumbling. 

Birdperson’s door opens and shuts. Rick squeezes his eyes shut and flinches as the sound seems to reverberate through his entire body.

All of a sudden, he’s upright and marching towards the front door, his vision still swinging slightly from the hangover. His heart pounds and burns in his chest. The door slams shut behind him.

Rick thunders his way down the stairs, the sound echoing in his head. From the countless times he’s been disturbed by others doing just that, he’s sure that everyone else in the building can hear it too. Good. Serves them right for doing the same to him.

He exits the apartment building and heads for the bar on the corner. Barely halfway there, he’s stopped by an alien.

“Excuse me, sir. Have you heard the message of G’gxzhgar?”

Rick whips round to face the insectoid, their exoskeleton covered in the telltale grey fur of  criscipiticae gxzhgaris, so named for the god its hosts inevitably begin to worship. He’s always thought of religion like this, an infection that spreads from person to person and takes over their brain, but this is that concept in its most literal form. Its victims have no control over its effect once the root takes hold, no way to see that they are being brainwashed by a fungus. They’re helpless, innocent. It isn’t their fault.

“I don’t give a fuck!” Rick snaps. “Your god is a-is a fucking disease! It just wants you to spread it to as many people as possible so it can eat you from the inside and you fucking deserve it for being so fucking stupid!”

The alien steps back in shock. Rick’s suddenly aware of his rapid breathing, of all the eyes judging him for shouting at the alien equivalent of a leper.

“Y-y-you think you’re better than me? If you don’t say anything, you’re just as sick as this guy!”

He storms off before any member of the crowd can recover enough to retaliate and barges into the bar. As soon as he sits down, a drink is placed in front of him; the bartender knows him well enough. Rick downs the glass and slides it back to be refilled, perhaps with more force than necessary. 

The alcohol burns his dry mouth and empty stomach, but he chokes it down anyway. He needs something to drown out the thoughts beginning to swirl inside his head.

It’s not until he’s downing his fourth drink that he finally begins to feel the blessed, dizzy pull of inebriation. His head throbs in protest as he continues to drink, fighting the urge to close his eyes.

Eventually, when his thoughts reach the desired incoherency and his head becomes too heavy to hold up any longer, he allows it to rest on the bar. A puddle of spilled alcohol sticks his cheek to the wood. He’s too drunk to care.

His eyes scan the rest of the bar for the first time since arriving. In every direction he looks, he sees couples flirting, kissing, interlocking tentacles.

He’s too drunk to care.

[nerd-cat-rambles]

Can you slander Makoto? I hate him too tbh but I rarely saw slander of him

Waited my whole life for this ask /j

Aight let's begin:

He's average, he has no redeeming qualities and could literally be replaced by any character in the franchise.

He has no unique hobbies or interests at all, he would have nothing interesting or fun to talk with you about.

He gets no development throughout the franchise

He got in HPA as the Ultimate Luck but spends his time fucking getting punched and stuff.

He doesn't care about other characters, he didn't care about Taka when he went catatonic, he didn't try to empathise with Leon, he never heard Hiro out in the third chapter, he never says anything to stop people from being rude to Sakura.

All ships with him are super bland and annoying, they don't work because he's so average and boring.

His personality is only put positively, he has NO flaws and I mean NONE. This makes for a bad protagonist because he has no room to improve and that makes him uninteresting to the audience. I would've forgotten about him if he wasn't a placeholder.

He lets characters be mean and bitchy to him (mainly byakuya)

He never trains with Aoi, not even after Sakura dies. SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN TRAINING ALONE GUYS, ALONE!

he's not relatable or realistic at all (tf are "The Meat Teens")

He's super annoying especially around Maizono-Chan

Poorly written and kinda bland

He has the most BASIC VA making him super forgettable, his VA is in every other anime on the planet and so he's easily forgettable.

He did nothing to get granted the title of Ult. Hope???

Average ass design, bro your jacket is BOOORING even Hifumi has a better fit tbh

He has no personality and no FTEs (bc he's a protag) so he seems super 2D compared to the other characters.

He's given too much credit as a protagonist when literally Kyoko does all the work.

Every time he's on screen I cry /hj

I skip his dialouge in UDG bc I can't stand his voice.

Milk Toast kinda guy

His suit design makes him look like an offbrand Fuyuhiko

His "hopeful attitude" is there until Sayaka needs him for support, he never asks further about her issues??? Until Leon needs some empathy for his situation, he goes "YOU MURDERED SAYAKA YOU BAD!!!" he wasn't there when Chihiro had a complex, they could've bonded "hey you may think you're weak but I KNOW I'm average" wasn't there for Mondo to help him in his final moments, wasn't there for Kiyotaka when he didn't even eat. I DID TAKA'S FTES IN CHAPTER 3 AND HE DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO HELP ("..." "..." "..." "Taka and I stood in silence for some time") he doesn't stop Toko and Hiro from calling Sakura ogre, and is scared of her for most of the game even though she's a sweetheart! He never sympathises with Yasuhiro (they were both framed at one point or another). He never helps Aoi after Sakura died, he never hears Toko/Jill out in ANY situation!

He keeps being accused of lying and nobody trusts him (chp.1 trial, chp.5 trial twice - masked figure attack, and his execution-)

He never works for anything, information is always given to him

The cast should've killed him and used his ahoge as a radio antenna to call for help, or connect it to alter-ego and get a radio signal.

A virtually untouchable character

All of his superfans go "He's such a pure innocent baby who did no wrong he's so cool!" but this list exists...

He never had any reason to kill, his motive/secret could've been hella interesting, he could've tried to kill, but we got nothing.

He's dense and any fics with him in it are boring.

Any other character would be a better suited protagonist.

Yeah this isn't the full list but I hope the anon enjoyed the ramble!

This is a hate against Makoto, yes, but this is my opinion, take this as you will. Please refrain from hating because at the end of the day we're all entitled to our beliefs.

[alarrytale]

Every single ask on your blog for the last few days has been dragging him and you have not been posting the onea supporting him because I have been sending them. Do you like him at all? Your blog says that you absolutely hate him and you think he is an unprofessional slob who doesn't know how to put on the show. You think he should bow down to the great Harry styles and learn everything that he has to teach Louis.

Hello, anon!

I do not think you understand the volume of asks i get. I can't possibly answer them all. If you make generalisations about larries, use ableisms, are calling Harry a clown or Louis a wreck i will not prioritise to answer your ask.

My opinion is my opinion, this is my blog. I do not speak for all larries and when i do it's my understanding of larries that i'm speaking on. You don’t have to agree with a single thing i say. You can send an ask saying you don’t agree and bring your arguments why. Okay?

I also think you need to deal with people criticizing both H and L. They've both got their strengths and weaknesses. I critizise them both pretty equally (as the state of my inbox like to remind me), but right now the topic of conversation is Louis as a performer. That's natural since he just played a huge show and a leg of tour. Some fans have said that they didn’t have the best experience.

I'm not dragging him. We are questioning why he is not making more of an effort to make his shows better and we are discussing different suggestions for how he could improve.

You should recognise that Louis' shows have room for improvement and that Louis himself as a performer has got room for improvement. We all love Louis here, but loving Louis doesn’t mean agreeing with everything he does and let him take you as a fan for granted. You are a fan and you're allowed to demand he shows you as a fan, who's travelled far and paid half a pay check for a ticket, respect enough to know his own lyrics. If he wants to keep playing shows to larger and larger audiences and gain more and more fans he needs to show improvement.

I've said so many times now, but reading comprehension is low, that i'm not comparing him to H. They're different people with different styles and music. Some things H is better at than L, and some things L are better at than H. Regardless of that, i do know that Louis can do better and be better than what he's currently showing us. I've seen him done it before. He never missed a lyric in 1D, he moved on stage, he smiled at fans, he talked and bantered with the drummer or guitarist. Yeah, some of that confidence came with sharing a stage, but he's older now and should be able to let loose a bit. He's surrounded by people who loves him. He's done it before he can do it again.

[the-brothers]

Three - Five Months

You were grounded for a month for slapping an eight-year-old that day at the park. While Pops was proud of you for sticking up for your younger brothers, he was disappointed that you used violence on someone younger than you. And man, was that kid's mom pissed. She was close to pressing charges. Luckily your father was a respected man in the city and you hadn't had any violent outbursts prior.

In the following days Pops started looking into why kids might be calling Ace such a terrible name. He and Sabo were not willing to give any explanation so his only hope was this parent teacher conference.

"Ace is still reading at a first grade level. So when he reads aloud some of the students tease him. I stop them of course, but I can only stop what I see." Mrs. Flores explained.

Pops was furious.

"If the boy isn't reading at the same level as the other kids why wasn't I informed? Why haven't you worked with him? He's been here for three months being forced to be less than the rest of the class."

"Honestly I don't think this school has the resources to help him." she replied honestly, "And Sabo should be in advanced classes. I don't normally recommend pulling kids from this school but I think your boys would benefit from a private education. The Carter School may have some vacancies. There, Ace can have a tailored curriculum and Sabo can move forward comfortably."

That week the boys were enrolled in a private academy and separated for assessment testing. Sabo, as it turned out was far more advanced than kids their age. The academy wanted to move him forward from third to fifth grade. Pops was worried about it at first already having one son bullied, but the staff assured him it was quite common there and there would be other students his age in the advanced placement courses.

Ace's testing revealed something more surprising, dyslexia. No wonder he was reading at a lower level, it was just hard for him to figure out how to pronounce words correctly when the letters weren't in the right order.

The orphanage hadn't bothered to tell Pops that Ace didn't start speaking until he was almost five and that he'd only been speaking in full sentences since he met Sabo a little over a year ago.

Immediately he was placed in a class with kids who had the same issues and Pops hired a tutor who was certified to teach kids with learning disabilities.

The change for Ace was almost immediate. He wouldn't stop talking and was suddenly interested in your books and story time with Luffy every night. Now you had a bigger audience at story time so you moved to your room, Ace didn't fit in the recliner with both you and Luffy. Occasionally you could coax your freckled brother into reading a few passages out loud to practice for school. He was still slow and stammered over his words but every week you could see subtle improvements.

One night you heard something just outside your open door while Ace had taken over a paragraph. Sparing a few glances toward the doorway between assisting Ace, you didn't see anything out of the ordinary. A few moments later you heard something slide against the wall and looked over to see a little hand, palm down on the hardwood floor for support.

Sabo.

You took over for Ace as he yawned widely. Eyes swaying over to the other brother camped outside your door quietly listening until Ace and Luffy drifted off to sleep. Hearing their snores and you closing the book Sabo got up to slink back to the boys shared room. This continued for the next couple of days. You weren't sure how to address it.

___________________

"He just isn't very trusting because of foster care, lass." your father sighed over his breakfast as you sat in your favorite booth at your favorite diner.

"I guess, but he won't even give us a chance." you whined stirring your coffee.

"He will," Pops looked at you seriously, "as I've said to you and your dense brothers - you have to have patience with him. He'll come around. We won't give up on him."

"Ok, ok... I'm trying." you waved your hands in front of you.

"Maybe ask the boys if he has any interests you can appeal to." he suggested.

"Ah," you leaned forward placing your elbows on the table,"I've caught him listening in on our story times and I wanted to ask you if I could take the boys to the bookstore today."

"That's a great idea, lass. You can go but don't stay out too long."

"Aventure!" Luffy cheered from Shanks' shoulders.

"Ad-venture, kiddo." the redhead corrected.

"Das what I said!" the four year-old protested.

"I see," Shanks chuckled, "sorry, sorry."

"Alright, guys, Pop's gave me enough money for all four of us to pick out a book."

You stood with your boyfriend and brothers outside of the bookstore giving them instructions.

"Can we get whatever we want?" Ace asked.

"As long as it's something to read, a comic, manga or book, it doesn't matter. But we're not spending book money on snacks."

All three kids frowned at your limitations.

"If you guys behave and listen to your sister I'll take you to McDonald's after." Shanks promised earning cheers from the raven haired boys.

"Please stay near Shanks or me," you continued sternly, "I will page you and embarrass you in front of the entire store."

Luffy laughed while the older boys rolled their eyes and entered the store with you.

Shanks took Luffy to the little kids story corner while you showed Ace and Sabo comics and chapter books. Allowing them to browse you stayed nearby to look for the next installment in a series you were reading. When you came back around the corner Sabo was flipping through a chapter book with colorful dragons of all kinds painted on the cover. His green eyes scanned the first few pages with interest, until he realized you'd caught sight of him. Quickly he shut the book and returned it to the shelf.

"I found what I wanted!" Ace called making his way to you with a graphic novel.

"Me too!" Luffy chuckled from his perch on your approaching boyfriend.

"Sabo?" you asked collecting the other's choices.

"I'm good." he replied curtly.

"Maybe next time then." you smiled, "Why don't you guys go get in the car with Shanks and I'll go check out."

"Sure thing," Shanks pecked your lips earning gags from all three kids, "Quit your shit ya brats."

A few nights later, after their baths Luffy and Ace wandered into your room hoping you'd read from their selection.

"Let's read from a different book tonight," you suggested pulling a novel from your night stand as the boys settled in.

"Dragons?" Ace questioned catching sight of the cover.

"So cool!" Luffy cheered,"Will you still do the voices?"

"Of course." you chuckled ruffling his hair. 

As you began to read you heard the familiar rustle outside your open door.

Mustering up an exaggerated silly voice you continued to read, "I am Draven, the Dragon King."

"F/N, shishishi," the youngest chuckled at your antics, "You sound like a old lady not a king."

"What? That's how he sounded in my head." you smiled glancing up from the page to see a little blond head peering around the corner.

He wasn't smiling but you could see the amusement in his eyes. Your gaze moved back to the page as the youngest grew impatient for you to keep reading.

The more you used that ridiculous witch voice and mispronounced the king's name the further Sabo inched into the room before finally interrupting you.

"You're doing it all wrong." he grumbled crossing his arms over his chest, "His name is Daaaaven, with a long a. And he doesn't sound like an old hag."

"If you can do it better, by all means." you held the book out.

He looked at you hesitantly before giving up and climbing over his already passed out freckled brother. Once he settled you placed the book in his lap allowing him to take over.

Luffy giggled excitedly burrowing into your torso while Sabo read.

Pops yawned walking through the house turning off lights and picking up toys the boys had left lying about. He passed the boys room peeking in to find their beds empty. Quirking a brow he moved further down to see your bedroom door still open, the soft yellow light from your lamp spilling out into the hall. He chuckled shaking his head seeing all three boys snuggled up in your bed. Dog-earing the page he closed the book and placed it beside the bed before switching off your light.

If anyone could get through to that kid it was you.

[womanexile]

With the risk of striking a nerve, and getting someone mad, and I've been terrified to say this cause I see Harry's fans praise him a lot for everything he does: I don't think that at the moment Harry is that good of an actor as some people claim him to be.

If Harry wants to continue acting I pray and hope to God he takes it seriously. His last two attempts were far from good (More like My Policeman, than his role in DWD was far from good). Don't Worry Darling was alright I guess but his performance compared to the others was lacking in some places. I bet Olivia's direction and badly written script also contributed in him not looking so great on screen. The woman chose controversy over quality and even released that stupid video where everyone criticized Harry's accent as a promo for people to talk about, even though I'm sure she knew he'd get made fun of. Everyone waits to see Harry's acting and then this is released as a first glimpse.🤦‍♀️ My Policeman was painful to get through to the end cause I could already see the headlines and essays on how he's not a good actor. Personally, I think both of these directors didn't care as much about the movies they were making in terms of quality (or if they did, then in my eyes as an audience member they failed), but rather its financial success and they just got Harry because well, Harry = money. (Yes, even My Policeman with that story I don't think was of great importance because similar stories have been told on screen already and in better ways. There was nothing revolutionary about it and it was boring)

I don't even know, does Harry take acting lessons? He has something in there, it just needs a lot of practice, and practicing on a movie set in a movie that's gonna come out for people to watch at the beginning of his acting career is not it. (I've seen some fans excuse him and say that he's new to acting and doesn't have much practice, but I don't think that should be excusable. If it was somebody else with no clout, they wouldn't have been hired and granted the permission to 'practice' their acting skills on a set where a lot of money are at stake. Instead, they would choose a better actor. The fact that he is Harry Styles plays a big role and he probably realizes it, but it didn't seem like he took it serious enough to where him being picked for a leading/co-leading role so early in his career would be justified. It looks bad and for his own good just throwing himself into this like that was the wrong professional move. On top of saying at Venice that he has no idea what he is doing when it comes to acting was screaming privilege and ignorance. He's not media trained as an actor) Because now it's going to be harder for him with 2 not well critically acclaimed movies under his belt. Eternals flopped too, so it's still a mystery if there's going to be a sequel...

It's just hard for me to watch him get ridiculed by people who are not his fans and are not perhaps as biased as his supporters to where they would be willing to gloss over the truth and pretend like he's perfect. If this was Taylor, she would've been shamed by her fans and they would let her know that it's not good. So, all that Harry can do no wrong talk is also getting a bit annoying.

I think with HS acting is that people had set very high expectations on him. So if he doesn’t deliver an Oscar worthy performance he failed. Do I think someone else could have played the roles better? Yes. But for literally his first acting gigs I thought he did very well. Do I think there is room for a lot of improvement? Yes. I think HS has a lot of potential when it comes to acting but he should start taking lessons if he wants to continue. I do think his performance in DWD was way better than My Policeman.

[that-1-url]

my thoughts on the pjo tv show (spoilers for episode 8) pt 2

6. speaking of VFX, why. They took the time to animate Grover's legs (something mostly unnecessary due to the fact that he wears jeans, fake feet and a hat to hide his goat-ness) in favor of other small things such as Ares' eyes, or Zeus' "flashy" exit from the throne room, or the throne room in general, or the size of the gods (something that could be done with practical effects). 7. Percy's ADHD. It just simply wasn't there. I don't have the authority to speak on the dyslexia side of things, but it felt like they replaced Percy's ADHD with some sort of hallucination-like thing that everyone around him gaslit him into thinking he had. It felt very odd and jarring at times, and while similar events happen in the books, all of the adults around him seemed very determined to like, hospitalize him or something. (This is no hate towards anyone who has visual hallucinations, it just felt like a very weird and slightly ableist (?) approach to the matter that really didn't do either ADHD nor hallucinations any real justice in terms of how it was) [i can't word this correctly i'm sorry] 8. The timeline. They had Grover throw Percy under the bus (for literally no reason) and then immediately whisk him off to montauk in the middle of the school year. (in the books it feels more natural because its at the end of the school term. which apparently it's the summer in the show? but the whole thing is really confusing). It was even more confusing when they show Sally returning because first he goes to montauk in his dream and then she's suddenly there when he wakes up and it begins at the end of the summer i guess?? Not to mention the whole weird portal thing with Luke. He didn't even mention his quest or why he felt personally betrayed by the gods. Just that he hated them because he hated feeling weak? Also Hermes and Hephaestus' appearances didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. I feel like the way they escape the casino didn't need to be changed, and in changing it they took away some of Percy's insecurity because in the book he's like "wow I'm having fun with annabeth and grover to find-? who? my mom! how could i forget my mom? something's up". Another quick thing I'm taking on the end is Annabeth getting left behind in the Fields of Asphodel didn't make any sense to me. 9. Annabeth and Grover randomly giving Percy their stuff? It didn't make a lot of sense and was never explained. 10. Percy's main focus at CHB being less of "I want my mom back and I want my dad to pay child support" and more of "so if i do something cool my dad will notice? hmm" felt very odd and out of character. 11. This is less of a critique and more of just a whiny complaint but the series could've been set in 2005 and wasn't. 12. I understand that the show was never going to be a shot-by-shot retelling of the books and i never expected that, but the way they cut out/added scenes felt very erratic and was heavily dependent on the audience already being familiar with the material that I guess we were supposed to fill in the gaps ourselves? and a lot of people have been like "Rick's improving on the story!" and while there were some add-ins I enjoyed, I feel like they cut or changed too many important scenes to really keep the main idea of both the plot and characters. Time for stuff I liked! 1. Dionysus tricking Percy so he would get him a drink was fucking hilarious. 2. Luke's voiceover before Percy fighting Ares being a parallel with Percy's "Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood"? Poetic cinema. 3. Percy pushing Grover and Annabeth through the door at the Arch. Excessive personal loyalty anyone?

4. Grover and Annabeth dunking Percy in the fountain to heal his shoulder was really funny. Truely teenage dumbassery at its finest 5. I didn't like how there wasn't the lightning bolt that threw them off the road at the beginning, but I will give the scene points for looking scarily similar to how I pictured it in my head. 6. The raw quote from Poseidon in the throne room "Obedience does not come naturally to you, does it?" "No...sir." 7. AGE ACCURATE CASTING! This is something we all have been saying from the beginning, but I like acknowledging it again. :) 8. The layout of CHB. You can see just about everything from Half-Blood hill in the books and in the show it's all nice and spread out (as opposed to the Peter Johnson movies where you couldn't even see the next cabin over).

There's more things I have on both sides that I might think of and post about later, but for now that's all I've got. I really did try to approach the TV series with an open mind, but as a show altogether I didn't like it that much, and I really don't think it did The Lightning Thief justice. It's hard to adapt books to TV, but it is possible. I believe that if they had more than eight episodes it could've played out more smoothly, but there were just too many things that changed that didn't have to, and there was too many holes that were left because they cut out the wrong scenes. Kudos to everyone who worked hard on the show and I'm glad that other people enjoyed it. But please respect my opinion and if you have any point of discussion I'd be happy to talk about them with you in a polite, constructive way. Welcome new fans and hello again to old ones, go out and enjoy Percy Jackson and The Olympians, it's a great series (books and TV alike, even if i personally don't like the show)

[rottenraccoons]

spoilers/In THAT ending as mc dragged by man and left in the room for “preparations” - does that implies that they still can say no or what happens next will be completely forced on them? I saw all tw but the tone in that scene was not clear for me and I would rather avoid ro that is able to do that to the person as I’m planing to support this game any way I can in the future ! sorry for the bother! it’s totally ok if you will ignore this silly lil too personal ask🥀

The full answer is going to be a bit long and heavy, so I'll put in under a read more. But here's the tl;dr: it's ambiguous on purpose, Cirrus is not a good dude and will not improve. Whether you decide to play his route or not, you have our full support.

If you've gotten Ending #1 it's because Cirrus has gotten bored of the MC and wants them out of the way. He chooses to send them away with Ark because that's a convenient way to get rid of the MC and to send them a message that they're no longer wanted. So his goal in this scene is not to sell the MC into sexual slavery, it's just to get rid of them. Still bad, but maybe that takes the edge off the horror of that scene.

The scene in the room is ambiguous on purpose. We don't have a canon answer on whether the MC is going to be kept there against their will so that players can decide for themselves. If you want the MC to be able to leave, I think that's a reasonable thing to assume from that scene. If you want the completely dark ending, that is also possible.

If that scene makes you uncomfortable, though, you may want to consider avoiding Cirrus' route in the future. Cirrus is not a good man and he will not become a more palatable person in the future. His route is always going to be for a niche audience, and we would rather players avoid his route and enjoy themselves than play his route and have a bad time. If you're game to experience Cirrus' story then that's cool, but if you choose to avoid him then you have our full support.

[gravityfallsrewritten]

Chapter 7: Pseudonym

'STAN PINES DEAD'

That was the headline in today's Oregon newspaper. It was the talk of the town for a few hours, and now some people have come to express their sympathy and condolences. The body wasn't found, said the police. "Must've been burned down with the fire", so there wasn't a funeral to attend to.

"You really did it," Y/n says to Stan, who is busy staring at a particular section of the newspaper. "You managed to sell it to everyone. You're an absolute natural."

"Hey, you gotta learn how to give yourself some credit, kid," he replies, chuckling as he flips to the next page. "Heh, take a look at this!"

He basically shoves the newspaper to her face. She has to lean back to read the section properly. It was a picture of a man in a square frame. Y/n glances back to Stan's smirk before reverting to the photograph. It is unmistakably him, with the words, 'GRIFTER AT LARGE' beneath it. Her brows furrow slightly after quickly reading the paragraph.

"Shouldn't we be worried?"

"Nah," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm Stanford, remember? And Stanley is dead, so we ain't gotta worry about nothing!"

Double negative but sure.

Y/n leaves it at that, looking a little uneasy. Stan certainly notices it, pointing it out. "Hey, you look like we just murdered someone in cold blood- hey! That's a good name."

"What?"

"'The Murder Hut!'" Stan bellows with a sound as if he is waiting for her approval. "Come on, you like it."

"Wouldn't that be suspicious as heck?" she utters, crossing her arms and leaning back to her chair. "And you think people would buy merchandise with names like- I don't know – murder hat? Murder box?"

"Let's just try it out! Come on, I got wooden planks that need some signs." Stan stands up, walks outside and begins hammering signs.

Y/n shakes her head at him, but she has a smile on her face. He brightens the room and is eager to turn the lab around. Although she initially opposed touching her and Ford's research, she knows that without proper income, they will starve and die, and this is Stan's way of earning money, so she has no choice but to support him.

***

***

"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up!" Stan takes his place in front of the audience. Some are locals, while others are visitors because Y/n has never seen these people before. The word must have spread to other neighboring cities.

Stan is a natural, just like she said. His skills at deception and trickery are finally paying off, literally. Each person's fifteen dollars all end up in his hands. Some may tip more based on how entertained they were, and boy, were they entertained.

All of the creatures Stan glued together reminded Y/n of the carnival to which the three went. She reaches for her daisy necklace, which was still dangling around her neck, and her thoughts return to Ford. She can't help but chuckle when she remembers her and Ford being unimpressed by the chicken duct-taped to a silver back gorilla.

She observes how people are drawn to the various displays of Ford's research and Stan's paraphernalia. Of course, he didn't want to tell the truth, so he had to make up a story about a completely fictitious creature. Nonetheless, customers bought it.

"Remember folks; we bring the 'fun' in 'No Refunds'!" Stan waves them all goodbye, making Y/n snort from the inside of the house.

The man turns to face Y/n, and she assumes he is waiting for her reaction or approval. The reactions were priceless, and he seemed to be selling it so well that she was almost persuaded at times. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up. Stan also smiles.

"So, any notes? Something to improve on?"

These suggestions have been gnawing at the back of her mind now. "Change the name-"

"Oh, come on. The Murder Hut is a good name! It'll really spook these people out, ya know?"

"Sure. I'll give you another name," Y/n starts, bringing her hands up as if she was ready to present something like a magician that was about to do a trick. "How about... 'The Mystery Shack'? eh?" she says, sliding her hands away from her face, watching Stan's expressions.

"The Mystery Shack, huh?" Stan repeats, rubbing his chin in deep thought. "The Mystery Shack... I don't know, I think– maybe– sounds a little bit- it's perfect!"

Wow, and here he is, adamant about not changing the name at first.

"Yeah!" Y/n grins. "And then they'll get to call you Mr. Mystery or something. Isn't that better than Mr. Murder?"

"Yeah, yeah... Mr. Mystery. It has a nice ring to it. I love it!" Stan smiles so wide, leaning towards Y/n to give her hair a little ruffling, making her scowl playfully at him.

"Hey, Mr. Mystery, just because you give tours and scam people for a living now doesn't mean you forget your sole purpose for staying here. You don't get a pass for fixing the portal, ya know!"

Stan sighs. "I know. We have to bring the real Stanford back."

Every night since Ford was sucked into the other dimension, Y/n and Stan have broken their backs and brains trying to restore the portal to its original state. She remembers some of the codes she entered, but the others were scribbled down by Ford and were unfortunately found in the rest of the journals, but they are nowhere to be located.

Y/n suggested she ask the forest creatures if they had seen Ford hide one in plain sight, but Stan expressed his fear of someone hurting her once she left the lab. She reassured him that there was nothing to be concerned about and that she would not be hurt due to her invulnerability.

Stan was still unsure, but Y/n was on her way to the enchanted forest while it was still light outside. Stan was giving tours as usual, and she managed to slip out without being noticed by the crowds.

She begins looking for someone with whom she can speak. She remembers the gnomes as being anything but friendly. Shmebulock was the only one who stood out from the crowd. Nonetheless, none of them could assist because all they wanted was for her to be their queen.

Where could Ford have hidden them? As something as important as his research, he must've hidden them 'where no one could find it' as he would always say.

It wasn't in the bunker the last time she checked, which was never (because she's kind of afraid of Shifty), but she doubted the journals would be there (because of Shifty and because it would be too obvious).

Y/n sighed dejectedly as she returned to the lab. Perhaps Ford traveled to another state or town and buried the journal there, or it was hidden by a puzzle. There are numerous options.

She didn't want to get a shovel and dig through every patch of land here in the forest. First is that it is time-consuming and labor-intensive, and the second is that it appears suspicious. Someone may believe they are digging up skeletons for their tourist trap or burying a dead body. In either case, things may occur that would be beyond their control.

"No luck?" Stan exclaimed once Y/n had reached the portal room. It took her all day to search the woods for possible hiding places, but nothing turned up.

And the creatures that lived there provided no important information. "Nothing... he made it more difficult than I expected."

Despite the lack of information from the other two journals, the portal repair was still ongoing. They'll just have to rely on their stock knowledge.

Stan would occasionally read textbooks borrowed from the local library, which were scattered on the table down the portal room. There were subjects like physics, computer science and information technology, and mechanical engineering—in fact, perhaps all kinds of engineering were thrown in the mix.

Y/n had little difficulty understanding; she was, after all, a quick learner. Stan, on the other hand, was dim-witted, but that didn't stop him from trying to understand basic physics. As always, she admired his tenacity.

It had been months of nonstop work. Since then, the Mystery Shack has grown. Stan suggested separating the house from the museum to give them some privacy, and they got to work. The Museum was larger and had more exhibits. Y/n had no idea the room was so large until they cleaned it.

As Stan continued making more nick-knacks, Y/n was working on the vending machine, making it act as a door between the gift shop and the hallway that led to the elevator.

"What do you think of this? I call it, 'The Antelabbit'."

From Y/n's observations, it was a brown rabbit with spiral horns from an antelope. It posed cutely, but menacingly at the same time. "How did you even get to build that?"

"Saw a bunch of taxidermy animals when I went out for groceries and decided to buy all of them," Stan replied, doing more finishing touches.

"It looks familiar," Y/n said, now that she had gotten a second look at it. "Isn't that one called a Jackalope? It's a mythical animal I saw from one of the books that Ford borrowed from the library."

"Jackalope-Shmackalope. The Antelabbit is a much more clever name. The faces of those tourists would be priceless once they see this!"

Y/n shook her head, choosing to focus more on the vending machine. There is just no way of getting through that guy. "I think I'm done," she announced as soon as she was finished. She stood up finally, having no pain from squatting down for hours.

"Does it work?"

She closed the vending machine with a small huff. There was a sound of the whole thing locking. "Try the code," she handed a paper to Stan and he began punching in the combinations on the vending machine's keypad.

With the final number inputted, the vending machine unlocked and cracked a bit of open space for Stan's fingers to grip it open. "Ha," he let out an impressive noise. "Not bad, kid. Good job."

"Of course, I was taught by the most amazing teacher."

Stan almost smiled.

"These textbooks, baby."

The smile dropped.

"Okay, get to work," he playfully punched Y/n's shoulder. He didn't even get to worry whether he punched too hard because it wouldn't matter to Y/n, yet Stan will never get used to that. "I want you to continue these while I'm gone. Gonna have to buy a cash register and more wood, and materials."

A month has passed, and it was the same routine as always; Stan rounds up the crowd and tours them around the museum, letting them take pictures – but always with a price.

After the fun tour, he leads them to the gift shop, which Y/n manages. She helps them sell the items, coming up with interesting facts about them and what benefits they'll get upon purchasing. Obviously, they all eat it up.

As Y/n closed the register, she let out a heavy sigh. She had been thinking about it for a week now, but in a few days, it will be her birthday. She should be looking forward to it, but the haunting memory that happened the next day all just came crashing down. The shaking of the ground, rushing to the elevator, having arrived too late. What if she had been there right on time? Could she have saved him and risked her life instead?

She's happy that she had Stan to celebrate it with her instead of being alone on that day. And even though she also wanted to celebrate Stan's one year of staying here, it just left a bad taste in her mouth because it's the same day she lost her research partner, her closest friend.

"Happy birthday, kiddo," Stan said, pushing forward a small plate of a cupcake on it. "Make a wish."

Y/n smiled, albeit feeling like total dump truck. "Thank you."

The moment she blew on the candle, the realization dawned on her that she was fourteen. She didn't feel like fourteen. Every year, her height grew an inch, but this year felt different all of a sudden.

Then came the next birthday, and the next, and the next. Stan's mullet had grown long enough for him to let her cut it all off, but Y/n had not changed.

"Maybe it's some sort of weird puberty thing. You may be human, but maybe your invulnerability is affecting something inside-? Nope, I am now greatly uncomfortable."

"It's been five years. It's as if I'm stuck at thirteen or something. It is indeed strange."

"Hey, look on the bright side, sweetie. One of us is staying young forever, and it's surely not me," Stan said, checking himself out in the mirror and turning his head to gaze at his new haircut. "Not bad, kid! You even kept the sideburns. I look sharp!" He grinned at his reflection before walking away, but not before giving Y/n a little noogie. "Might consider opening up a barber shop!"

"You will never bribe me with flattery, Stanley."

"Heh, worth a try."

Before Stan left the room, he stood by the opening, his hand stilled on the door frame. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" Y/n stared at him.

He averted his gaze before speaking, "Nothing. I'm just..."

"You're just what? You can tell me, you know."

Stan let out a small chuckle. "Yeah. I know. I just wanted to say that... I'm sorry. It's been five years since the second most stupidest thing I've done in my life."

Double superlative, but okay, Y/n thought, but she let him continue.

"He wouldn't be gone if it weren't for me. But, I also want to thank you for not giving up on me. I basically replaced him but you never left, ya know? You-"

"Okay, you're making me cry, man. Stop it," Y/n playfully chided, but there were tears threatening to escape from the corner of her eyes. "We should be celebrating our progress! I mean, considering that we lack the extra information from the other two journals, we still do it! The portal... kinda works."

Stan remained frowning. "Really appreciate your enthusiasm, kid, but we just spent the last five years with nothing accomplished. Admit it!"

"And here's to many more years. I don't care how long it takes. The important thing is that we're still trying and we won't ever give up on him. We both want him back, right?"

"I'm sorry. You're right." He sighed.

"When am I not?"

"Okay, smarty pants, I'm getting sick of your overconfidence," Stan remarked, but he wasn't being serious.

Y/n cackled. "Ha! Where'd you think I got that? And you don't get a choice, you're stuck with me forever!"

He smirked. "Good."

The two remained inseparable, knowing that they would only have each other for the rest of their lives. They decided that because Y/n does not age, she should be kept hidden from the public during the day. It was too complicated to explain, but Y/n had prepared a lie that she could tell whenever she needed to.

Stan and Y/n knew it would take a long time, but no one expected that almost twenty years later, nothing groundbreaking would have happened. The Shack kept on developing, though, now fully renovated with the huge sigh and other decorations.

They continue to follow their daily routine, in which Stan tours the visitors around the museum before leading them to the gift shop where he also manages the cash register. Meanwhile, Y/n works with the portal, taking note of what materials they would need. Stan might call Y/n to fix something, but as much as possible, he didn't want to fill up her plate with so many tasks.

Sleepless nights of hard work were also part of their routine. Someone should seriously do a bag check on their eyes from how saggy they look, but somehow Stan still manages to look charismatic in the day.

But every now and then, Stan would have one of those nights where he felt completely disheartened. He'd just stop what he was doing and go on a rant about how he's not smart enough and lacks critical thinking, doubting his abilities, and calling himself names.

But Y/n is always ready to put him back in his place, to tell him that he's wrong, and that he is smart in his own way.

There would also be days when Y/n would not want to get out of bed, feeling lethargic and uninterested. She'd spend the entire day lost in her own thoughts, which would always drift back to him and her memories with him.

Stan would check in on her from time to time, but would give her space if she needed it. He would, however, bring her meals in bed, which she greatly appreciates.

The two have grown to truly care for one another, internally promising to watch each other's backs.

After about twenty years, there was a ring that one morning. Stan reluctantly picked it up and sat in the dining chair. "Stan Pines speaking."

"Ford?"

Stan knew that voice. "Shermie?"

"You go by Stan now?"

His shoulders slumped. He just wanted to drop the call, though it might be suspicious. He already had the first strike, mistakenly introducing himself as Stan Pines when clearly, a person named Ford resides here. "What do you want, Sherm?"

"Well," Shermie began, "you know how I've been expecting my first grandchild..."

Stan stood up from his chair. "Wait," he said, "Is it happening now? Already?!"

"Heh, yep!"

"Well?"

"Well... what?" The older brother questioned.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

Shermie let out a small chuckle. "You'll just have to go over here and find out, won't you?"

"You can just tell me, Sherm, come on!" he basically begged but nonetheless, Shermie didn't throw him a bone.

"Nope. No can do, Ford. It's been too long since we've seen each other. It's been like what, twenty– twenty five years already? You'll find out once you get here," he said before dropping the call.

Stan grumbled under his breath before dragging himself to Y/n's room. "Y/n, wake up," he said, approaching the huge bed on the side, "Wake up, peanut, I need your help."

Y/n fussed. "No. I want to sleep forever."

"Wake up!" Stan shamelessly punched the side of her shoulder, not feeling guilty at all because he knew it wouldn't even perturb her.

"What happened, what do you want?" Y/n groaned.

"I need you to find me Ford's clothes to wear."

"What?" She finally sat up.

"I have to meet my brother. As Ford."

"You have a second brother? How many other brothers are there?!" Her arms flailed wildly, her eyes narrowed at him. Stan was slightly amused at Y/n's irritated state, but his problem of trying to pose as his disappeared twin brother is surfacing on his mind.

Stan laughed shortly. "Don't worry, we're only three. His name's Shermie."

Y/n stood up and walked over to the large box in the far corner of the room. The box contained some of Ford's belongings, such as his clothes, and the majority of his belongings were on the basement's second level. "I'm guessing you need to dress as Ford so you need his clothes."

"Yeah. Not too nerdy, though, even if it's an impossible challenge."

As she rummaged through the box, Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. It's been 20 years, but the scent is still there. It felt like a slap in the face, but Y/n powered through it, eventually pulling out a blue-gray long-sleeved shirt and a mustard vest. "Dusty."

Stan made a dismissive sound. "I don't care."

"Woah!" Y/n exclaimed as she noticed Stan taking off his coat. "Not here?!"

Stan returned to her room a few moments later, dressed completely differently than before, just as Y/n discovered Ford's other trench coat. "Here. This'll complete the look."

She watched Stan put it on with a solemn expression. "Meh, here," he said, twirling a bit to present his final appearance. "How'd I look?"

Y/n hummed in thought. She considered his appearance before pointing out a specific feature she wished to change. "Come here."

Stan leaned down to her face, speechless, before reaching up and running her fingers through his hair. She noticed that their hairstyles were different; Ford had thick, wavy curls, while Stan had straight, thin strands. She ruffled them around and couldn't help but chuckle. It was like getting even with him, who had frequently messed up her hair.

She eventually came to a halt and took a step back. Her lips formed a straight line. "You make the cut," she said, her voice slightly trembling. Stan approached the large mirror next to her and looked in it. He was stunned at first, his eyes scanning every detail of himself. "Now say something Ford would say."

Stan stood blankly, remaining still before clearing his throat. "Conspiracies," he uttered, "Mysteries! Bigfoot is real!"

The two erupted into small laughter.

"Heh, still got it." he smirked to himself.

"Okay, you big nerd, but what about your six fingers?"

The man in front of her contemplated for a moment, before coming up with an idea, "Hand me some bandages."

***

Through the window, Y/n observed Stan leave for his car. She tightened her grip on the window sill. The back of his figure looked like Ford's, and with a shaky grin, Y/n reasoned that if he truly strongly resembled him, it would surely fool his other brother.

She couldn't believe they had another brother as she slid down on the couch. She only found out because Ford never told her anything about him, only about Stan. Y/n stared at the ceiling, trying to think of something to do now that she was alone in the lab-turned-Shack. Should she go into the gift shop and create new "attractions"? Should she clean up the museum a little more? Should she double-check something with the portal?

She returned to her bedroom with a careless shrug. Stan interrupted her dream of becoming a famous monster hunter on TV, so she went back to sleep to continue it.

Her hunger woke her up, and she settled on making herself a sandwich. She went downstairs and snatched a few books and brought them upstairs to read some. She spent the rest of the afternoon reading and writing notes of her own.

Before she knew it, the front door opened. "I'm home!" She heard, but she wrote a few more sentences before looking up from the book and she just noticed that it had gotten dark. She made her way out of her room and saw Stan in the hallway who was just about to go to his room.

"So? How'd it go?" she inquired, crossing her arms.

"Twins," Stan began, and she swore she saw tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "They had twins - and – and matching names! What a tradition! It was Ma-"

Y/n couldn't help but smile at him. His happiness was highly contagious. She remained speechless, listening to him telling the story animatedly. And when he told her that he told Shermie to keep the whole "dead Stanley" topic a secret to the kids, she felt relief.

"I don't wanna do this whole thing again. It's... it's suffocating," Stan finished.

Y/n smiled reassuringly. "Let's just hope that we don't bump into a situation where you have to do it again."

***

Stan had spent countless hours renovating the tourist trap, determined to keep the oddities and appeal alive for profit and his love of money. As a result, when Stan returned home with a slew of wax figures, Y/n immediately expressed her disapproval.

"What is this..."

"They're wax figures! Got them at verylow prices."

"Let me guess, you stole them while they weren't looking?" She crossed her arms.

Stan let out the biggest laugh. "You know me so well," he said quite affectionately, "Now, help me transfer them to the other room!"

They moved the remaining wax figures to the other side of the museum. They were definitely heavy, and Y/n was exhausted because she had no idea who these famous people that Stan had mentioned, and as a result, she felt like her energy was being wasted.

Stan decided to hire a handyman for the first time in twenty years. The person was tall and lanky. According to Y/n's observations, he was inexperienced, but he desperately needed a job, and Stan was sold the moment the guy said it didn't matter how much he was paid.

Yet, just the past few days of him working, Y/n was already shaking her head in disgruntlement. "What is he doing?" she whispered to herself as she watched Durland guess which part of the engine to touch from the window inside the Shack.

"What'cha watching?" Stan asked from beside her, sipping on his Pitt Cola. Y/n remained speechless, letting him see it for himself. She watched his reaction morphing from curiosity to something that she couldn't decipher. "Oh, boy."

"Why didn't you just have me fix up the golf cart myself? Would have fixed it in under fifteen and he's been working on it for an hour!" Suddenly, a yawn escaped her mouth.

"Look how tired you are," Stan said, "You already have the portal in your hands and I'm busy giving tours enough as it is."

"But clearly, he's an idiot. He's pulling on the wrong wire as we speak!"

As if on cue, the engine spewed black smoke and produced sparks. Durland coughed aggressively, removing his hat, and fanning away the exhaust.

"I'm gonna fire him," Stan said with a blank stare.

The bustling crowd from outside catches their attention, and Stan adjusts his bowtie. Y/n follows his figure walking towards the door. "Stan, fire him. Now. I'll fix the golf cart myself!"

"Sure, pumpkin. I'll do that- right after this!" And right after that, he just vanishes and his voice can be heard from outside, followed by noises of amazement and wonder. "Schlep right up, ladies and gentlemen to see my latest attraction-"

Y/n rolled her eyes as he flaunted his wax museum for the umpteenth time. Nothing beats seeing a crowd of people standing still. She was certain that this attraction would not last more than a month. When the door to the gift shop opened, Y/n quickly walked away, avoiding eye contact with a boy wearing a party hat who was walking towards the vending machine.

She went to the kitchen and got herself another can of Pitt cola, deciding that she should just use this time to relax a little. She heard more voices coming from the gift shop and assumed that some of his friends had joined him, purchasing something from the candy machine.

"You must be some kind of genius!"

The moment the voices were gone, Y/n approached the door and opened it ever so slightly. She took a peek around the gift shop to see that it was vacant and from the spot she was standing on, she had a view of the unfixed golf cart outside, making her huff in slight frustration.

She glanced at the medium-sized freezer that was on the floor, the side panel opened and exposed all its parts, which were also scattered on the ground. A tool box was open and strewn next to it. "This handyman is hopeless. Hopeless Handyman," she muttered to herself as she knelt down to inspect the problem. It appeared that one of the parts had become defective and that it was time to replace it, but no one seemed to be removing it – perhaps they didn't even realize the problem so they couldn't fix it.

"Where the heck is the screwdriver?" She rummaged through the toolbox for the necessary equipment, but she couldn't find it.

"Have you seen him?" Stan popped up beside her, and she raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. He appeared to have finished with the first wave of tourists.

"No. He's busy not fixing the golf cart and apparently this ice- box thing, too."

He finally had enough and called the man's name. He eventually appeared alongside the two of them. Stan yanked the man outside, furious. "That is it-!"

Y/n didn't even get to hear the rest because her watch made a familiar beep. She hurried to the vending machine, entered the code she created, and staggered to the hallway as soon as the machine opened. The elevator took her to the bottom floor, and she wasted no time in pressing a specific button that would somehow neutralize the surveillance room. Something is probably overheating.

She huffed slightly as she cautiously swept her sweaty brow with her arm. "Stan... he forgot to turn it on again."

He was always in charge of pressing the button to stabilize the temperature of the portal before the two went upstairs, so the room stayed on while they were up there. Because of a lack of proper resources, leaving it on for an extended period of time causes everything to overheat and eventually explode, so there was a button to somehow distribute the electricity to other parts of the Shack. It was an extremely complex system-

"-that Stan shouldn't forget!" Y/n hissed. She checked over everything to see if it was stable now, and after a couple more inspections, she eventually left the room and returned to the elevator. "He almost destroyed everything. Okay, I'll just press the button myself before we leave. He's getting old."

In the meantime, she isn't. She's the same thirteen-year-old girl. She thought it was unfair that she didn't get to grow up like a normal human being, but most of the time she was grateful that she didn't grow and still learned something new every day. She may appear to be a youngster on the outside, but she felt far more intelligent and wise than the people far older than her.

Cautiously opening the vending machine, no one was there. She quickly slunk through the crevice that the machine had provided and closed it with force. Y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and pretended to be someone who just casually walked out from the door.

"Hi!"

She screamed shortly, taking a few steps back. It was the kid with the party hat from earlier, who was now holding a red screwdriver. The same screwdriver that she was looking for.

"Hi..." she replied slowly, observing the boy. He was wearing a large question mark shirt – one of Mystery Shack's merchandise – over his red dinosaur shirt. It was far too large for him, yet he still wore the brightest smile ever. "What are you doing with the screwdriver?"

"Oh, um," he fiddled with the tool sheepishly. "I found this in my backyard and I wanted to return it, but that Mister with the cool suit hired me." He pointed at Stan's figure outside, who had his arms stretched proudly.

"Hired you? What did you hire you for?"

"...to fix a... golf cart?"

Y/n shook her head at Stan's incredulous decision. "Unbelievable. Uh-" she trailed off, not having a clue on what to do with this kid. "I'll go talk to him really quickly. You just... try and familiarize yourself with the freezer over there. Okay, bye."

She just needed to walk away for some reason and as she did, she looked back and watched as the boy amateurishly trifled around the freezer. She shook her head for the umpteenth time.

"Remember folks, we bring the fun in No Refunds! Tell your friends about the Mystery Shack?"

Stan returned inside, carrying a bag full of money. She idly followed him, and he didn't seem to mind, until Y/n finally cleared her throat. "Stan?"

"What's up," he blankly replied, inserting his hand into the bag and began clawing each dollar bills and counting one by one.

"Seriously."

"What did I do this time," Stan grumbled numbers under his breath. He's good at multitasking, counting money and talking to her, but he can mute her at any time and focus on the counting instead.

"Did you just hire a kid to be the Shack's handyman?" Y/n crossed her arms, staring at him disapprovingly.

He didn't say anything at first, and Y/n already knew that he was shutting her out. She waited until he finished adding up his income before pushing it all down inside the cash register and closing it.

She took the chance to continue her stance, "Seriously, a kid?"

"You're acting like you're decades older than him. You're only thirteen, Y/n, suck it up." Stan strolled by one of the shelves and took the duster and began cleaning.

"I'm-!"

"And hey, it's easier to teach a kid," he said, turning around to face her. "You know that old saying? Teach that kid to fish."

"I have no idea what the heck you're talking about."

Stan fully faced her. "If you teach him what you know, maybe he'll get to grow as someone who's actually capable," he whispered as if sharing a secret. "It's like planting a tree. It wouldn't grow unless you guide and take care of it."

Stan finally left her to herself. Y/n glanced behind her to see the kid reading a manual about the freezer as he scratched his hair, clueless.

The advice that Stan gave her was unbelievably wise, but he had a point. Begrudgingly, Y/n approached the boy on the ground. "Uhm, hey."

"What's up, dude?" He brought down the paper and looked at her.

At this moment, Y/n realized that he wasn't supposed to see her. Now her face was basically imprinted on his mind now – unless he's very easily influenced or has a weak memory. Hoping to distract him, she began communicating with him, "What's your name? Oh, is it your birthday?" she asked, referring to the party hat sitting atop his hair. "Happy birthday!"

"Heh, thanks," he replied, "I'm Soos. What about you?"

"You can call me Y/n," she said, before looking down at the untidy floor. "Uh... do you like... fixing stuff?"

"I haven't tried – because my Abuelita wouldn't let me– but I'm willing to learn!"

She gave a sweet smile before averting her gaze. Soos reminded her of herself from years ago, when she was eager to learn from the master. "Okay," she began, sitting on the floor next to him. "You're gonna want to find the problem; is it in the compressor? The relay switch?"

Soos may not be as bright or as quick to learn as she is, but his drive is unwavering.

Y/n watched him grow up and no longer need her help, but she had to be cautious about him possibly seeing her not aging. So she and Stan devised a strategy. To be specific, a lie.

Soos was twenty-one years old, and the new cashier girl just turned fifteen. The next day, Stan and Y/n walked into the Shack carrying Stan's suitcase. "Everybody, welcome Y/n."

"Hi," the girl meekly said, "You can call me Y/n."

"Hi, Y/n," Soos replied, pausing after. He narrowed his eyes on them. "Say, you look like someone I've met before..."

"Oh, you must've met my older sister. My mom named us the same and she took a vacation on Gravity Falls, too!" Y/n said, somewhat cheerfully. A single sweat dropped along the side of her cheek. "She told me about Stan's reliable handyman. Soos, right?"

"Heh, did she really?" Soos asked, a small blush appearing on his face. "Y/n taught me everything I needed to know."

"Can't believe your mom would name you both Y/n," Wendy commented from behind the counter. "That must've been confusing on the dinner table."

I know. Stan thought internally.

"Heh, yeah..." Y/n chuckled shyly. "It was ridiculous, but we grew up with it. Anyway, where am I staying, Stan?"

"Oh, uh. Follow me."

The moment that the two stepped out of the gift shop and entered the hallway leading to Y/n's room, she scolded Stan in hushed whispers, "You could've been any happier to see me?"

"What, you told me to act natural."

Y/n shook her head. "Let's just hope that they bought it."

"Oh, please. Soos? He's too dumb to pick up the clues, and Wendy wouldn't care enough to notice. They're the perfect clueless pair when I'm living a double life here, you know? They're not... adventurous, curious, nosy."

She frowned. "I can't believe it's been thirty years and we still haven't done anything. We haven't even found any journals. It's all hopeless.'

"Hey, don't lose hope," Stan reassured, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. "We're still gonna try. Even if it takes a million years."

Eventually, Y/n smiled. "Until the end of the line."

"You and me."

Ring ring! Ring ring!

The ringing broke their resolve. Stan immediately glanced at the telephone situated on the dining table. Stan trudged towards it and answered within the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hi. Is this my Uncle Stanford?"

Stan cocked his brow. It sounded like a younger version of Shermie. He had a feeling it was Shermie's son, Henry, but he wanted to be certain. "Who's this?"

"Oh, is this not my uncle?"

"Yes, this is him," he replied, perhaps begrudgingly, dragging a hand across his face. "Who am I speaking to?"

"Oh, this is Henry. Henry Pines. My dad told me I could send my twins to your place for the whole summer for some 'fresh air'," he said, letting out a few chuckles, "I know they're gonna need it, so... I trust that they'll have a great time in your care?"

"Uh," Stan stuttered, his gaze traveling in every part of the room until it landed on the girl who gave him an inquisitive look. "Sure, sure! Send 'em here! They'll have the best summer! Yes!"

Y/n watched as Stan nodded more and agreed with what the man was saying before he put the telephone down, breathing heavily. "Who was that?"

"He's sending his twins for the summer!" Stan wore a huge smile on his face, doing a little jig.

"Okay, but why did you look nervous before the end of the call?" she noticed.

Curse her perceptiveness.

"Well, because-" he fidgeted with his fingers. When he saw Y/n's suspicious expression, he sighed, defeated. "I want to make a good impression. They're supposed to know me as Ford; a genius, an inventor, a role model."

"But you're not Ford."

"I know! I'm just the dumber twin, posing as him," he said as he punched the wall next to him, but Y/n didn't even flinch, just stared at him.

"You know what I'm gonna say," she started monotonously.

Stan made a forced sound. "Yeah."

"Why do you still think that, then." She crossed her arms to herself. "You're not Ford and you don't have to act like him. No one even knows how he acts up close except for me, so you don't have anything to worry about. Just be you."

"Who am I?"

"You're Stan Pines, a funny, creative man, who knows business more than I do. You're the best at coming up with fictional creatures, creatures that I haven't even thought of. And I know that someone like Stan Pines will give his great grand-kids a good time."

"Heh, I know," Stan smirked, making Y/n deadpan. "I just wanted some gassing up from you."

Although, words coming from her really mean a lot to him.

***

It was finally time for the twins to arrive. Y/n had to admit that she was nervous, but she could argue that Stan was more nervous than she was. He was untying and retying the knot of his maroon bow tie for the umpteenth time.

"Don't worry, you still look somewhat presentable," she said amusingly. Her arms were still crossed.

"Do I?" Stan grumbled, looking at her through the mirror. His back was facing her as he combed his large hand through his graying hair. "You know, Y/n, I really want you to meet them. You might get along just fine."

"Come on, Stan, you think someone like me could go along with them? How many friends have I made for the last thirty years?"

Stan chuckled before his laughter died down. "Add those two to the growing list of people we're lying to."

"Yeah," Y/n said, sighing. "I'm confident we'll do well. We've been able to keep it hidden for thirty years. There's no way, no one would know."

"I just hope those kids won't meddle too much. The last thing I want is to put them in danger."

She remained silent and said nothing else. Stan genuinely cared about the twins, despite the fact that he hadn't seen them in nearly thirteen years. He held them during childbirth and eagerly told Y/n all the details as soon as he got home. So, of course, the moment his wristwatch rang, he strode past her and out of the room. Y/n had to laugh because she could tell Stan couldn't hide his excitement.

"Let's hope it's a normal summer."

***

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 8!

MASTERLIST

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[yifangtheanimator]

Final Major Project: Production

Fixed Animatic

Note: After the tutorial with Steve and Sam, I got suggestions for balancing the film's structure. I will make the final part digitally, the homeless man in the police station, but I would like to do the part of his memories in the traditional way, with inspiration from the flipbook animatic I made at the beginning of the project. In addition, Sam suggested a film named It's Nice in Here, so I may get some ideas from the film because it has a similar topic to mine. I will make more visual changes in the film and in my script for the story. For that, I will need to join the script workshop, which will happen in the next few days.

Updated Version - inc BGM and Voice

In the script tutorials, Sam helped me fix the dialogues in my script for my final major project. In my preview version, there are some grammar mistakes and awkward phrases. We solved them and tried changing some character settings, such as the details that Tom (the homeless guy) always buys food in the supermarket, but where is the source that he gets money to buy them. In addition, in order to make the story end smoothly and reasonably, we discussed adding a scene in which another policeman walks into the room in the police station and talks to the police for a minute without Tom. In this scene, I got a chance to describe how fearful Tom is and how he is worried that he will get into jail.

Storyboard - ADDED SCENES

Based on the scenes added to the fixed script, I made a storyboard which can support me in the production when I am going to make the final part of the story in the police station.

I plan to duplicate the two parts in the film - one of them is Tom's memory of how he was captured in the supermarket and sent to the police station. It tells what happened to the audience in his own words. I would like to make this part on paper drawing, similar way to the flipbook I made in the early times.

The other part is Tom speaking to the policeman in the police station. On the timeline, this part represents the present. To help the audience better distinguish, I will present this part in digital form. I plan to use Procreate on my tablet for this part and Premier Pro for post and editing.

Animation Test - Digital Part

I am testing the blurring effects to change between foreground and background. I used an eye-level camera angle to lead the focus to the door, especially the new character who will walk in from the door.

Further Plans

I am satisfied with the colouring; it might not be colourful for the whole film because I'd like to make it simple. I will make character lip tests as soon as possible to see if they will fit my script. Also, I will need to find out if someone can help with the voice acting. There are some characters that need to be decided especially how their voice should sound based on their personality and attire. I want to find the right person for voice-act based on these clues.

Halfway Animation film

I currently working with the part I added for the script with Sam, starting from the other policeman knocked the door and get into room to ask the police for talking outside.

In my plan, the police station part will be illustrated with fully digital painting. I think they are looking great on colouring. I wish I could draw the memory part on paper after I finish the digital part.

For voice acting, I have contact three people for voice job in the past two weeks. They are still working on recording and I am waiting to see if the audio will fit my film. I plan to solve them this week.

Up-to-date film with voiceover (For reality check)

Final Outcome of FMP

500 words self-evaluation

Overall, I really appreciate that I get help from different people so we can finish the final major project film on time. Looking through the whole 3 minutes of the film, I can see there are still a lot of spaces that can be improved, especially the memory part of Tom Player when he describes what kind of treatment he has in the supermarket. I did this part to rush because I still had other arrangements for interviews, which caused me not able to spend enough time on making animation as I originally planned.

However, the digital part I believe it worked very well. I spend a lot of time making details and colouring for foregrounds and backgrounds, which is my advantage and I can still handle them.

I got help from my classmate Marty. She suggested to me some voice actors who had other voice-acting experiences for animation films. In fact, the voice actors performed very well, the actor (who played Policeman A) Robert Vesty sent me three different versions of dialogues based on my script, even though he was sick which caused his voice to change. I am in awe of his professionalism and I have more choices to choose for my final edit of the FMP film.

The other voice actor I found, one of them is my tutor Steve. His voice is quite unique and he is talented in voice-acting. When I was worried and looking for voice actors for two characters in my film, we arranged for a recording room and he played those two characters, both of them worked fantastically. The main character Tom Player, is the most important and has a lot of dialogue. I was seeking a few weeks and did not find a suitable voice actor. This character is a homeless guy working for a bookshop. His long-term repressed life and his inferior status made him feel nervous and uneasy when facing strangers. The helplessness, emotional tension and anger of this kind of person, when he is framed in the supermarket, are what I think are the most difficult to express when you voice act for him. In my opinion, this is a difficult imagination. Because I have never experienced or understood the state of mind and life of a homeless person, I have no clue what kind of voice to use and how to handle the right emotions.

Michael D Costello, the guy responded to me when I searching someone to play for the character Tom Player. He said that he could try the dialogue with trembling voices. When I got his first draft, I was shocked. This kind of voice is what I am looking for. Even though it sounds still rough and some spaces can be improved, I have suggested he record a second draft. For some reason, unfortunately, I did not get replied from him so I have to use the first draft he sent me originally.

Reviewed the whole outcome of my final major project, and I think it definitely can be improved. Some tiny issues should be fixed which are caused by my poor time management. I am totally satisfied with the film I made, I feel it can be better after it gets fixed.