#flatlands the fic

[teteminne]

In honour of the new wonderful news of the jonsa gothic horror movie coming up, I just posted chapter twenty-four of flatlands!!!

[ckret2]

brainstorming exercise: you are Mabel, you have just read Flatland, you have been given reason to believe this book describes Bill Cipher's homeworld, and you have Bill at your mercy for crayon time. What follow-up questions do you ask him.

I need her to grill the hell outta him, but only a couple questions are important to the ongoing plot, so most of the conversation will just be For Fun. In light of this, might as well chuck in some questions that actual readers are interested in.

[irregularbillcipher]

quick little thing of the main characters of my flatland/gravity falls fic in the style of my old flatland short film, since i was thinking about it

[askbillcipherandceleste]

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS FINALLY DONE

The wedding fic is now finished y'all!!!

I'm super proud of it!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53524414/chapters/135832276

DERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER

[theautismgoblin]

WOW!! Wonder what this IS!!!

This is the fic, I'm working on! Anyone who likes Celeste, don't worry this is tied to the same timeline. I won't say much else!! Have fun reading!

[godsfavoritescientist]

How do I explain the ways in which the bill origins fic 'A Romance of Many Dimensions' by haley3 rewired my brain without needing to give paragraphs upon paragraphs of context. The fic is something like 200,000 words long. Almost every single good moment calls back to things that are set up earlier in the fic

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I originally said I wasn’t going to post the first one, but then I had the idea for the second one. Seriously, you guys are lifesavers because I have no idea what I’m doing.

[eldragon-x]

thinking about nora flatdreams 😔

[2d-dreams]

Same Spoilers

same spoilers as previous spoiler post of The Arts of Being

the havoc gang except only really one of them is in for the havoc

A. SHAPE, A. Sphere (who is possibly quite terrified) and Pointland Itself

[mischas]

another WIP snippet

This one comes from the Hawaii fic I’ve been slowly working on for a while. I think it’ll be split in two parts and the previous snippet (here) will take place in part two. The second part will probably not be finished for a long time but part one is coming along nicely. Thanks you guys for being so sweet and supportive ✨🫶

One of his favorite things to do is wake up with her tucked into him. From the very first time in that motel on the side of the road when they were sixteen, he’s loved it. For those few moments he can know she’s safe and content and he can hold her without abandon, the groggy space between sleep and awake blurring as they stir. He gets to do so two blessed mornings in a row during his trip and never thinks twice about it happening a third time.

But on Sunday morning, she’s gone.

Ryan gets out of bed, pulling on his boxers. He notices his shirt is missing and it’s a good sign. She probably hasn’t left the house. He searches the hallway and pops his head into the kitchen to see if she’s there. But nothing.

When he goes back upstairs to her room, trying not to be panicked, he finds the door to her balcony ajar.

The he hears her in the bathroom, turning the shower on.

Knocking on the bathroom door, he finds himself shuffling on the balls of his feet.

She opens it with a smile that seems forced. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he returns. She smells heavily of cigarette smoke. He knew she picked it up again since moving but didn’t think twice about it. He moves a hand through the air. “Wow.”

“I know,” Marissa says sheepishly. “Hence the shower.”

Her eyes won’t meet his but he chalks it up to early morning tiredness. “Okay, I’ll be out here.”

She nods, shutting the door.

Looking around for his dirty clothes since she took his shirt, he finds a trusty wifebeater and makes his way to her balcony. He doesn’t expect to find her ashtray overloaded with cigarette butts and a half-finished coffee. Just how long had she been up? Did she do this the previous morning?

He finds her lighter and pack, opting to light up too. The minty menthol hits his throat, and he makes a face. His mom liked menthols too, but they were always too expensive.

Halfway through his second cigarette, he hears the balcony door open. Before he knows it, Marissa’s wrapping her arms around him from behind in a hug, her chin sitting on his shoulder. Kissing his cheek, she says, “Morning.” Decidedly more chipper. Maybe her shower woke her up a bit more.

Ryan turns his head and meets her lips in a long kiss. He can’t tell who the tobacco taste is coming from, but it settles into something heady. She slips her tongue against his and he tastes coffee mixed with toothpaste, a hint of her sandalwood shampoo seeping in as her hair falls against him.

She settles in the chair next to his, her hand grazing his knuckles as she does so. She eyes his cigarette. “Stealing again, huh?”

He smirks, setting it down. The flame ate away at much of it as he kissed her anyway. Stubbing it out, he turns to her. “What got you out of bed so early?”

Marissa swallows. “Bad dream, it’s fine.”

“Does that happen a lot?” He fears he already knows the answer.

She turns her head, breaking their gaze. “Not all the time.”

That’s not really an answer, but it’s not a topic he likes either. There’s a moment when he wants to ask her more. He really does. He wants the truth out there so they can address it together. But the larger part of him likes ignoring it, likes pretending things are okay and this is just a blip. “Does your therapist know?”

Marissa eyes him for a moment, pursing her lips. Whatever she’s thinking, she lets it go. “Yeah, he knows.”

Ryan nods, at a loss of what to say, hoping it was enough. “That’s good then.”

Marissa changes the subject. “We have three hours before you have to be at the airport. What do you wanna do?”

He eyes her lasciviously, mostly to make her laugh. It works. “Something outside,” she adds. Noting the crease in his brows, she puts her hands up in faux surrender. “You’re such a boy.”

He laughs. “We’ve done it more outside than we have inside.”

Marissa shakes her head. “Not anymore.”

“True.”

She gets up from her seat, grabbing his hand. “Walk with me.”

[teteminne]

ASoIaF - Northern Style (part 1)

So, because I am slightly obssessed with this subject, I thought it would be fun to make a post talking about how I, personally, envision the (feminine) style of the North!

So, for me, it would be a mix of styles from various time periods in Russian history, as well as some elements of Ottoman Turkish style, also from various periods, and a bit of other muslim styles from many places, like Azerbaijan!

This means something like this for nobility:

I really like the thought of these very voluminous clothes, with extremely rich colours, details and prints, many layers, and these coats lattered in fur.

The adornations and details are also very important. In the cold, I'd imagine ladies mostly had their hair fully covered, especially if outside, or done in two brais that would peak out of their head-coverings. However, if the weather allowed, I'd like to think they'd do very intricate braids too!

The headcovers would range from simple veils, to veils paired with adornations or even headdresses, should the occasion ask for something more elaborate. If it was very cold, a thicker fabric could also be placed over an under-veil. The veil alone or with some adornation or a thicker cover on top should be something like this:

(Part Two for more bc I can only post 30 images per post!)

[ckret2]

Dipper’s thoughts on human Bill?

"What kind of fiction do you read, Pine Tree? Do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

"(I regret this conversation so much.)"

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it."

Of all the main shack crew, I think I've put the least development into how Dipper feels about Bill traipsing around. (I'm willing to take ideas!) Although overall he's like,

He distrusts him, he hates him, and he's VERY mad that Bill's getting along so well with Mabel. But eventually I need Dipper to willingly talk to Bill, because he's the most likely one to ask prying, interesting backstory questions. I don't know yet what will get him to that point. I think he'll be the last in the family to accidentally soften toward Bill.

In return, Bill literally piloted Dipper's body yet he could go a whole day under the same roof as the kid without thinking about him once. He'll tease Dipper when annoying him is funny and he'll play nice to keep himself in the Pines' good(?) graces, but in the cosmology of Bill's life, Dipper doesn't matter.

He calls Mabel "Shooting Star" no matter what sweater she's wearing but when Dipper switched hats Bill halfway forgot he's also a part of the anti-Bill zodiac. Dipper is Mabel's less fun womb roommate.

The fact that Dipper carries so little weight in Bill's mind—unlike Ford or Mabel or even Stan—is just another thing that irritates Dipper.

[irregularbillcipher]

DO YOU KNOW WHAT SPAWNED YOUR EXISTENCE?

[ID: Two lineless, digital paintings, both with warm, dark gray backgrounds. Both canvases are shaped like exact squares.

Painting one shows an adult Bill Cipher, a bright yellow triangle with a top hat, bow tie, cane, singular eye, and long lashes, reaching out to shake hands with the Axolotl, a pink axolotl with an electric blue tail. Bill is looking at the Axolotl casually, and his outstretched hand is engulfed in blue flames, while the Axolotl is smiling at Bill gently, reaching out to take his hand. There are stylized stars, similar to sparkles, in the top right and bottom lefthand corners of the painting. The painting is textured so that you can see the gray of the canvas very faintly through the brush strokes.

Painting two consists mostly of a short passage from Edwin Abbott Abbot's Flatland, written in light gray over the dark background. The passage is the beginning of chapter 7, and reads as follows:

"7. Concerning Irregular Figures

I for my part have never known and Irregular who was not also what Nature evidently intended him to be-- a hypocrite, a misanthropist, and, up to the limits of his power, a perpetrator of all manner of mischief..."

Below the quote, near the very bottom of the page, is a tiny illustration of a very young Bill Cipher. He is drawn completely in grayscale, and is looking down at the ground angrily, fists clenched. He is wearing a pauper's cap and has bandages wrapped around his rightmost angle, which is noticeably longer and more acute than his other angles.

End ID]

[hua-fei-hua]

i love you tragedies, i love you horrible things happening to good people, i love you character flaws, i love you unreliable narrators, i love you terrible consequences, i love you guilty consciousnesses, i love you catharsis, i love you inevitability

[thisismyideaofhumor]

i post a fic of a public domain work, i get 6 kudos, meanhiwle someone w more time and money and balls publishes their fic and get cash moneys

[rjalker]

you know you've succeeded when you get a text that reads "Did a shape put them back upside down by accident? Lol".

go read The Arts of Being after you read Flatland :)