#killing a bill is a lot easier than killing bill

[gorefetishizer]

Ppl who heavyly dislike the 5th tma season DONT interact if u didn't enjoy the fear exploring poetry i dont trust you

[oriax]

"voting blue is a requirement to ensure things dont backslide rapidly" and "dems have failed for 10+ years to enact meaningful change" are both true statements.

just because theyre spineless politicians whod rather BE elected than actually serve the people and causes they promise to focus on doesnt mean electing them anyway isnt important.

because unfortunately, in the end, better the spineless coward who might be persuaded to help than the people who actively want you dead and powerless

[rosetheocto]

hello to my 16 followers on here and anyone else who stumbles upon this post can you guys do me a quick favor if you live in the US?

Tell your senators that KOSA/Earn It/other internet bills that are similar will not protect anyone.

There are a lot of people that are wording this better than I am but this is gonna censor the internet of anything “inappropriate” (which basically means LGBTQIATS+ content and overall mental health stuff that can prevent kids from killing themselves) so like yeah can we make that law not happen please?

Oh yea also if it does anyone above the age of 16(?) will need to upload their drivers licenses to access the internet and even then all of your personal info will be out there for anyone to grab, plus it’ll be easier for predators to get away with harming kids if this passes, overall we wont be having a good time

Here’s the Bad Internet Bills website

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

how does blanche pay his bills 😔😔

no fr tho where does this guy earn money ??

Tw: gore, violence

Despite having a mostly vegetarian diet, Blanche is scarily good at butchering animals, especially mammals. He knows where all the joints are, the right places to cut, and the correct technique to extract all the pieces whole. You thought that he obtained his skills from eating his chickens, but he would rather let them die from natural causes than slaughter them himself. It was rather strange to see him opening up a bag of store-bought raw chicken whenever you told him you were craving for some, while you knew he owns a coop full of those noisy fuckers a few minutes walk away.

He has no qualms about killing and butchering rabbits if you're craving for them. Blanche sees them as pests, munching on his precious lettuces and cabbages, it is scary how he has no hesitation while impaling those fuzzy little creatures with a kitchen knife. You wouldn't know this fact without having a suitable personality for it; as in, you will have to be cold and uncaring towards cute critters in general. If you have a big heart and a tendency to cry when living beings are hurt, you wouldn't know Blanche is a bunny killer.

Similarly, if your humanity is still intact, you wouldn't know that he is a serial killer and an organ harvester. The victims that he didn't beat into a bloody pulp are cut up into individual pieces and have their organs prepared and preserved in wet ice. Blanche's knowledge isn't only localized to creative endeavors or gardening, he also has a deep reservoir containing all things biology. Especially humans. He also has a good grasp of the value of organs in the black market, negotiating with his usually desperate or depraved customers to give him the highest payout possible.

How he sells them is interesting to learn; he would sell them through the internet. Blanche is well-versed with this shiny new modern toy enough to evade authorities for decades. Those who tried to trick him and lure Blanche into a trap were turned into piles of fresh organs for him to sell. And there is no shortage of those idiots who tried to best Blanche at his own game. Well, it isn't really a game, all he wanted was to make some extra cash for him to spend on you. He isn't in it for the power, notoriety, or anything.

Back then, he would have done his business through word of mouth, or even through phone calls. Getting a solid customer base was much harder but easier to hide from the law since Blanche had a lot more experience in pre-internet days. But he has enough luck and skill to become famous yet undetectable in cyberspace.

He understands his market very well. The majority of his sales come from patients who are willing to do anything it takes to get that transplant, but there is a handful who buy them for personal consumption. Blanche would sell organs that aren't as fresh or somewhat diseased to the former, as they're desperate enough to take almost anything. Cannibals would normally demand the best quality, Blanche isn't one to complain. They have the funds to afford them.

All this while you thought he earned his money through back-breaking hard work from his youth. You asked him what he did for a living back then, he described a life with no fun, only becoming a slave to his numerous employers, doing jobs that are as menial as paperwork, or as life-threatening as hacking a tree with a blunt axe until it falls. It made sense how he has this much money until now, it sounded like he doesn't even go home to sleep, eat or sleep. He does that at whatever workplace he was in at the time.

While there are some truths to that, he cannot deny that his organ harvesting business was what bought him the comfortable and romantic lifestyle he could only dream of achieving in his early years. He wasted away years being tormented by constant work, but that wasn't what allowed him to garden, knit and bake freely to his heart's content. Blanche's horrific crimes did.

[scalpho]

fabian kristen solidarity would've KILLED because. kids who were raised in sheltered cult-like (very literally in kristen's case) environments and heavily pushed to fulfill a potential probably too great for a child but still expected of them (bill seacaster's son, helio's chosen) and being shown that as the only path forward in life. kristen being told that the whole church and community is relying on her, being taught that helio is the one true god and to shun other kinds of people, other religions. fabian being told that he needs to write his name upon the world to carry on his father's legacy, being taught that violence is the way to earn respect. both of them assured that they're going to be something great.

but then their worldviews are shattered, and life as they know it is swept out from under their feet. the church of helio is an eschatological cult, bill seacaster beats the shit out of his son in a jail cell, and it turns out everything they believed in so fully was Bad. and it's a lot easier said than done to break out of that, but no one quite understands why they're having so much trouble, because to everyone else it's pretty obvious that their childhoods were absurd and wrong. kristen tries to loop back to helio, even though she knows she shouldn't, because it's solid and familiar in the face of her endless doubt, and is met with confusion and frustration. fabian endlessly defends his father and is met with the same from his friends, and then he's punished harshly for it, his encounter with whitclaw leaving him broken.

deep down, kristen knows she can't continue to worship helio, and fabian knows that he can't follow in his father's footsteps; most importantly, they both know that they don't want to. but that's all their life used to be. how are they supposed to know how to do anything else?

[bobabisch]

I think it is very interesting that the writers of RDR2 chose to have the Arthur become more involved with the storyline of the Native Americans at the time that they did.

I feel this for many reasons, but mainly because what Colonel Favours' destructive and insecure nature is doing to the native people directly mirrors what Dutch's own insecure and destructive nature is doing to the group. On the first mission Arthur does with Captain Monroe, the Captain tells him many things:

1) That Colonel Favours destructive/insecure/angry nature has corrupted his men, I quote, "There is a culture now in his [Colonel Favours] regiment, the rot has traveled down the trunk". The Captain is stating that the horrific ways the Colonel has been treating the native people has prompted his men to treat them the same. The rotting tree metaphor is easily applied to Arthur's current situation with Dutch and the group (at this specific time especially). After Molly's death the whole vibe of the camp becomes unstable and dreary; nearly everyone has been prone to anger, Arthur included. This attitude in the camp is not unlike the new personality Dutch has begun to show since he returned from Guarma. This corruption can also be seen particularly well in Micah--as he thrives in the chaos in the camp and in Arthur's disintegrating relationship with Dutch--and in Bill's newfound anger/resentment with seemingly everything and everyone.

2) Captain Monroe tells Arthur "He [Colonel Favours] didn't have a very good war so he's trying to start another one." This one seems pretty much obvious, but as Arthur states during a few missions prior to this one (mainly the one with Eagle Flies and the mission where Dutch kills Cornwall) the past few heists/jobs have not gone well. Arthur significantly understates this; rather the last few heists/jobs have gone horribly, terribly wrong. All of Dutch's previous heists/jobs have led to death: I.e. Mac, Jenny, Sean, Hosea, Lenny, and Molly. It's clear Dutch has been feeling lost and inadequate since Blackwater and his recent failures and the recent deaths have only put more pressure on those insecurities, and with Micah in his ear those insecurities have only become more prevalent and dangerous.

3) Captain Monroe also tells Arthur "I think he's taking some of these actions more to protect himself now. If he can incite more retaliation maybe he can prove a stronger defense." Like Colonel Favours has decided to wage his own war with the native people in an attempt to alleviate his insecurities, so has Dutch decided to "wage war" as well, using the conflict with the native people and the army so he may "make noise" (as Dutch calls it) to reassure himself that his insecurities have not become reality. The more "noise" Dutch makes easier it is to claim he is defending the groups honor. Dutch uses people a lot, he used Angelo Bronte, he used the Grays, he used the Braithwaites, but the difference between Dutch using them and Dutch using Eagle Flies and the native people--as well as the army--is that he no longer does it for the reason's that he was doing it beforehand. With the former groups of people, Dutch truly was using them to help the group, to protect those he views as family.

Moreover the former groups of people were not good people in any way shape or form meanwhile the Native Americans are entirely blameless in this situation. "We help those who need helping, feed those who need feeding, and kill those who need killing." It's something Dutch says to Arthur on the very mission they take with Eagle Flies which puts not only the native people in a more precarious position than they were already in, but also makes the situation Dutch's gang are in more dangerous. Dutch has stuck by this motto for what seems like his whole life, but now even it has lost its meaning. He no longer helps those who need helping as he refused to rescue John Marston from being hanged, and he no longer kills those who need killing as he unnecessarily murdered Cornwall and actively urges the native people and the army to kill each other. In this light it is undeniable that just as Colonel Favours is prosecuting the Native Americans to save his reputation, Dutch has taken all of these new measures to save his own reputation and to placate his troubled mind.

4) Captain Monroe's final statement about Colonel Favours hits the hardest however, "A failed man is often the most dangerous." Arthur has come to know this as true, as he watches Dutch slowly descend further into madness, finding new enemies in anyone who is not his "yes man" and actively seeking out his old enemies who have wronged him so horribly in the past, all at the risk of the family which he claims he is trying to protect by doing all of this.

I think it is so clever of the writers this situation with the Native Americans play out as all this is happening with Dutch. Although Arthur probably does not fully understand the parallels, I'm sure being directly involved in such a similar situation helps Arthur to realize at least on some subconscious level just how far gone Dutch truly is.

[kkurades]

KILL BILL ━━━━━ yn’s ex-family

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PARK SEONGHWA regretted nothing more than breaking up with you due to his need to focus on his studies but trying to win you back would be harder than he had originally thought and finding out that you had happily moved on with another man while being a successful idol didn’t make it any easier for him

prev | masterlist | next

PARK SEONGHWA ( portrayed by SEONGHWA )

biology major, is yn’s ex, broke up w her bc he wanted to focus on his studies but regretted it a month later but she had already dropped out and disappeared, she also blocked him on everything, still has nightmares bc of how sad yn looked when they broke up, has a yn shrine that he refuses to let anyone touch bc it still smells like her, really really really wants her back

KIM HONGJOONG ( portrayed by HONGJOONG )

he dropped out after two years of uni, is a song writer and producer, is on yn’s side of the break up, knows what she does and is still in contact w her, has been planning to collab w yn for her solo comeback for a while now, doesn’t talk to the others anymore bc of the tension, is too lazy to change his location on twitter

JEONG YUNHO ( portrayed by YUN-HO )

the biggest hoe on campus, is on seonghwa’s side of the break up, is v loyal to him and refuses to speak to anyone who’s on yn’s side of the break up, has tried to set seonghwa up on multiple dates after he realised that he wanted yn back but he refused, is on the football team

KANG YEOSANG ( portrayed by YEO-SANG )

has a side job as a toe model so he could pay for uni, is neutral on the break up, likes to terrorise yunho and san w toe pics, hongjoong and mingi refuse to tell him anything ab yn bc he isn’t fully on yn’s side, he’s considering to turn to seonghwa’s side bc he thinks yn’s being over dramatic to refuse contact w any of them except for mingi and hongjoong

CHOI SAN ( portrayed by SAN )

has the whole campus simping over him and he doesn’t even know, is also on the football team, is on seonghwa’s side bc he’s like an older brother to him, misses yn a lot tho, has a serious case of toe phobia bc of yeosang

SONG MINGI ( portrayed by MINGI )

is obsessed w miffy, he creeped out his first roommates w his miffy mercy collection, on yn’s side of the break up, is yn’s nr. 1 supporter and knows what she does, dresses up like a woman every time he goes to his and yn's weekly hang out, is yn's bff since childhood & will forever stay loyal to her, doesn't hang out a lot on campus bc yn and hongjoong dropped out so he doesn't really have any friends left

JUNG WOOYOUNG ( portrayed by WOOYOUNG )

the biggest babygirl there is, has made out with 90 percent of the female population at kq uni, is on no one's side of the break up so he doesn't know what's going on w yn either, has actually made out in a girl's bedroom w (g)i-dle posters plastered on her walls and didn't notice it, wants everything back as it was, gets into a lot of fights w yunho and mingi bc they don't want to make up and help seonghwa get back together w yn

CHOI JONGHO ( portrayed by JONGHO )

looks v mean when he walks around campus so he doesn't have a lot of friends, used to be on yn's side but when she left without a word he was v hurt so he switched sides (but he’ll switch back the moment yn texts him), body weightlifter in his free time, tries to avoid anything that could actually lead to a fight between the two friend groups, biggest beabadoobee enthousiast

# NOTES — I HATE HATE TUMBLR. i wrote a better description ab everyone but tumblr deleted it so i had to rewrite it with half of the things i remember ☹️

# TAGLIST — @sserafimez , @neohyxn , @smh-anon , @redm4ri , @stopeatread , @yourfavoritefreakyhan , @saiewithakatana , @kyuupidwrites , @i-dont-know-me-either , @aestheticsluut , @certainyouthpeanut, @deadgirlwalking3 , @stopeatread , @cookiechristie , @atinyreads , @legohwas, @sollum , @a1sh1teruu , @nikisbf, @s00buwu , @kissezfornamjoon , @hexoolio , @bunnystrm, @dutchessskarma ( open )

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson, the Engineer's Thumb

Crimes in Context: Counterfeiting, circa 1889

What coins were the Stark-Becher gang trying to make, anyway? And did they actually need a person squishing hydraulic press to do it?

Most of the cash in circulation in Victorian England would have been coins, so it's time to refresh our memories on what they all are, since I last addressed currency smaller than a pound in The Man with the Twisted Lip. We will be restricting ourselves to denominations that the Stark-Becher gang may have been minting, based on the comment that the hydraulic press was necessary to make coins that were previously minted in silver.

Imperial Currency Definitions

Pound/Quid/Sovereign: Not applicable, the Sovereign coin is gold, but it's the base unit of the currency we're dealing with. It also would have been hard to pass as genuine just because it's a large denomination - the era's equivalent of a hundred dollar bill. Indeed, our Bank of England inflation calculator returns a modern value of £107.

Crown: Five shillings / a quarter pound. Represented by a silver coin. Probably the largest coin you'd make change for without being annoyed by it.

Shilling: 1/20th of a pound. A silver coin. Crowns and Shillings are our most likely candidates, as they're in common use in 1889 and is the kind of cash an average man might have on hand. I personally think shillings are the most likely coin to counterfeit, as a lot of accounting of people's wages, expenses, etc. in this time period is written as pounds / shillings / pennies (L/s/d) and silver pennies (And their horrible spawn of sixpence, twopence, etc) are probably not worth the effort. Also, while there were silver pennies in circulation, the fact that things like silver twopence were minted for maundy money makes the timeline and consistency of their minting beyond my pay grade as a blogger. And probably confusing for a coiner to get exactly right, given the payoff. Hydraulic press:

Modern (paper*) money is printed with several aspects that make it harder to reproduce: the exact fiber content of the paper, the multi layered and detailed design (with parts that can only be seen under UV light, parts that can only be seen with a magnifying glass, etc.), the embossed parts of the print design, and the exact chemical components of the ink can be analyzed to see if a note is authentic. The ink in US dollars also contains a smattering of heavy metals that aren't great for human health, so I don't recommend consuming money in any way - don't lick it, don't snort things off it, don't put it in your blender for a science fair project. It would be chemically somewhat dangerous to counterfeit modern currency at home, assuming you got anywhere close to the right ink.

*Some countries use polymer, but same difference. It will kill your blender, though.

The Victorians did... none of that, really. The idea of designing money to be harder to fake was already around, but metal coins can only be produced to a certain degree of precision with the tools that were available in the 1800's: you essentially heat a disk of the correct metal (a blank) and press it with a stamp. The hydraulic press would, of course, squash blanks between two plates of stamps precisely, and with great force.

Both silver and gold have relatively low melting points (under 2,000 degrees F / close to 1,000 C) and are malleable at lower temperatures than the iron or steel of a hydraulic press. Silver amalgam (a silver/mercury alloy) has an even lower melting point, so it would be even easier to fit to a mold.

Essentially, anybody who knew much about molding metal and could get a precise-ish model of the coin in question would make pretty convincing money. A hydraulic press large enough to fit three grown men between the plates of may have been overkill.

[arece]

Okay maybe despite John’s sacrifices reader has become violent because of the grief. Caine said he would watch over her. Caine probably realize she got back into the business. It doesn’t have to be a physical fight but maybe some sort of verbal thing reader just reader yelling how much she misses John and how Caine killed him or something. What would Caine do? Would reader allow Caine to comfort her? Make that shit angstyyyy

Francis Forever

♤ Summary: It's easier to stick to what you've learned instead of moving on. The series

♤ Warnings: John Wick violence, swears, alcohol, reader avoiding therapy and choosing murder (like father like daughter).

♤ a/n: It has been so long and I'm so very sorry!!! On a brighter note, the lovely Mallorie has made a playlist for our favourite duo! (It had me sobbing, the title and slogan made my heart melt). Check it out, cry over it and lets all thank Mal for the inspo! Love you Mal! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2PNWum0VLYV9k8VYJu5ZRc?si=7uTnEbr0R3CV1TxWXr1Svg

Without further ado... enjoy some angst!

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

The first time you broke the sacrifice John made for you was the first time he was mentioned. You had become a shell of the little girl you both used to know, an angry violent woman who couldn’t help but to blame everyone.

You avoided Winston as his new hotel was being built, the hotel that was only being built thanks to John’s death. Dog became your sole companion, joining you the few times you dared to venture out. John had left you all that was his, you had scoffed to avoid crying - he really did plan on dying since the very start.

You didn’t work, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. How cruel you thought it was, for John to teach you the only thing you were good at just to rip it all away from you in the name of protecting you.

You drank. A lot. Not too much to raise enough concern for Winston to come drag you back to wherever he was, but enough for one to consider it a minor hobby. Your chosen bar was one frequented by those of the underworld.

It was comforting in a way, a reminder of home. You were nursing your first drink of the night, drowning in self-pity when you overheard a conversation from two Russian men sitting beside you.

“Baba Yaga is gone, the Ruska Roma is a threat no more.” The burlier one smirked, chugging down the rest of his beer.

“Don’t be a fool. They did not rely on him and what of the child? Just because the Table forgets her does not mean she isn’t a threat.” 

“The Likho? He failed and she will meet his end.”

You finished off the rest of your drink with a sigh, standing and smashing your glass off the side of the counter. The attention of the entire bar was brought to you, the shocked silence only being broken to react.

You threw the sharpened glass straight into the neck of the larger man. His hands flew to his neck, holding tightly as he gurgled on his own blood. The second guy looked to his friend before pouncing after you.

Expecting it, you ducked under his grip, turning to slam his head against the bar’s counter top. You didn’t want him dead, too many bodies trailing after all that happened would be too suspicious. Knocking him out will have to do.

You shoved him back against the bar, his neck at a weird angle as you held his head in a lock. Once he was unconscious you released his body to the floor, throwing a hundred dollar bill for the damages.

“What are you doing?” The bar owner called after you in indignation.

“Trying to meet his end.” You didn’t even bother to wipe the blood off of your hands, it no longer phased you. You’d have to get your knife back from John’s grave.

-

Since then the trail grew, nearly reaching double digits. Technically you weren’t doing any kind of job, purely from your own will. If you kept going at the rate you were, the Table would force you back in, erasing everything John did.

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Caine had settled down with his daughter, their reunion going better than he could’ve ever anticipated. He explained the few things he could to her, why he had to leave her and how he managed to come back.

It was a late afternoon when he first heard the rumors of the Likho being active for the first time since the death of the Baba Yaga. He knew what that meant and knew it was time for him to keep his word.

“I know I said I wouldn’t leave again-” He was cut off by his daughter kissing his cheek. A soft and understanding smile painted her face as she hugged him tightly. “I have my father, she doesn’t. She needs you, go.”

He was quick to travel to New York, ready to do anything to keep you safe. He found your place thanks to Winston, who was beyond worried. He had tried to reach out to you but was met with hostility.

“Who are you to say anything? You used his death to get a fucking hotel!” He left with you looking ready to stab him and Dog growling nearby.

He sat on your armchair, white cane leaning on the back. He heard you unlock your door and remove Dog’s leash. Dog was quick to sniff him out, standing defensively as she barked at him. You tensed, jaw clenching at the sight of him.

“Caine. Thought you’d be off with your daughter,” the last word sounded choked, like it was a struggle for you to even pronounce. 

“I have some other obligations to attend to, she is aware.” He wouldn’t speak on his promise to John, something he was sure would turn you against him. Your current state reminded him of a lost puppy.

One that had been harmed too many times to function properly, to truly hold any trust in anyone. “I don’t see how that brings you to my place.”

You zero in on his hand, catching a glint from his palm, “give it back.” He opened his hand showing the gold coin. The gold coin that held all your worth, that John took you for, that you had to hunt The Doctor down to retrieve.

“So you can use it to get back in?” He scoffed, “after all that John gave up for you.” You flexed your hand before reaching to grab it back but he expertly dodged you.

“For me? He died for you,” you tried to hide your tears behind anger, choosing to act violently by shoving Caine out of your chair. He recovered easily, sliding away from you with the coin still in hand. 

“You were his daughter, he’d do anything to protect you.” How dare he come here to lecture you about your choices, defending the man who made decisions that led you here. You faked lunging for him, swiftly kicking out his leg from underneath him.

He grabbed onto you, using the momentum to send you falling instead. “How could he have seen me as a daughter? He was willing to leave me behind so you could be with yours!” You desperately clawed at his hand as you began to cry.

You were conflicted, emotions contradicting and betraying you. You wanted to defend him, justify everything he’s ever done but at the same time you hate him for what he did. You missed him and would do anything to have him back.

Caine was confused as he listened to your sobs over the coin. He loosened his grip, letting it fall from his and into your hands. You held it to your chest tightly, curling in on yourself like the desperate child you still were.

“It’s mine. He only took me because of this.” Caine kneeled down to the ground next to you. He laid a hand on your shoulder, slowly pulling you into a side hug when you didn’t flinch away.

“No, the coin only brought you to him. I’d die in an instant to keep her safe. John was wrong in the way only a father could be, he was wrong for you.”

Those words stuck with you. Each time you felt yourself slipping you remind yourself of his faults and how he willingly did them for you. John Wick was never perfect and you couldn’t hold him to that standard.

He was a loving father who did all that he could to love and care for his daughter. Baba Yaga and Likho were a mask, an illusion for two lost people who managed to discover each other in a twisted painful time.

You loved him and freed him in a way he never thought would be possible for him to have. He wanted to return that for you. It was time to let go of that part others created and instead treasure the him that was solely for you. Your John Wick.

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @tamnight @hesvoid34 @scarletmeii @romanreignsluver1 @wi1steria @not-a-big-slay @howlerwolfmax @mizzy-pop @sarapaprikas-blog @angrykitsune01

[robbie-roo]

People seemed to like my info dump on animal facts last time so here MORE

Prothotheria edition!

for the non zoologist in the group don't worry those are the only scientific names I'll use (lie)

so Prototheria is basically a subclass of mammals and only has one living classification called Monotremata (basically means first-beasts) and they're called this because these are some of the oldest species living today they are the closest we have to the earliest mammals on the planet and we have five whole species alive today!! ISNT THAT SO COOL???

these things are what the FIRST mammalian life on earth could have looked like! this I'd what WE may have looked like millions of years ago evolution is fucking CRAZY

so what is a monotreme? you already know one by name! Perry the who?

PLATYPUS!!!!

platypus are the only species in their genus called ornithornynchidae which basically means "beaked animals" (I know I know I said no more scientific names but monotremes are an exception since they're so fucking COOL)

so obviously as we all know these are egg laying mammals of action I could get into all the science stuff that makes a mammal a mammal but to keep it simple they have fur and they lactate

so elephant the room what is going on with the whole egg thing? so monotremes have a similar structure that birds and reptiles do they have something called a cloaca that is an all in one hole for getting things out of the body. they use it for all the things we have multiple holes for so what's going on with their reproductive structure??? I'm glad you asked it's weird as FUCK so females only have one working ovary- the right one we don't know why it's just the only one that works

(it could be that the only surviving "platypus" that kept the evolution of these things going just happened to have a broken ovary but we have no idea)

male platypus have 5 X chromosomes and 5 Y chromosomes females have 10 X chromosomes to put that into perspective of how fucking weird that is we only have 2 and things still get jumbled up sometimes.

male platypus are venomous 😀 isn't that a terrifying thought? a venomous mammal- but they are! ...in a way- male platypus have extra fur on their back feet that is sort of like a spine but it excretes poison that is strong enough to kill a medium sized dog- for context these things are maybe a foot long or so they are NOT perry sized

females also don't have nipples

but WAIT roo!!!! how do they lactate if they don't have nipples? guess what guys it's ALSO weird as fuck

they have specialized glands in their skin that secrete milk if it's easier to invision imagine a lot of really tiny nipples all over the place. The babies just lick it off their mother's hair. they actually lactate for a good 20 weeks, which is pretty long considering they are only birthed after 13 days. most of the fetal development is done while in the egg but when they come out they look like pink little fetuses they can't open their eyes or walk or smell anything

OK ok we know enough about sex and birth and shit but did you know they can close their ears? they close their ears with tiny flaps like a seal does when in the water and will also close their eyes underwater. their 3rd eyelid which is the one that closes is white and makes it look like they can see in the water but they can't! they use electroreception just like moles do!

they don't have any teeth other than a few flat ones in the back of their bill and an egg tooth when they are born

bonus fact: a baby platypus is called a puggle :)

OK ok NEXT

Tachyglossidae aka echidnas which means "fast tongued" there's a few types of them but both platypus and echidnas are native to Australia with a few echidnas in New Guinea

so these little guys look like porcupines pr hedgehogs to the untrained eye they have specialized hair that act similar to spines.

they have long snouts and no teeth instead they have bumps on their tongue and a hard pallet that they use to smash their food up against just like platypus do

they do exactly what their name says they have fast tongues coated in sticky mucus to slurp up bugs. they have super strong front legs for digging and females have a pseudo pouch- sort of like a domed abdomen to lay on the eggs with

males have extra spurs on their back feet like platypus do for fighting each other when mating

OK I'll leave it here and next time I'll go into Metatheria >:)

[flightfoot]

Any angsty ladynoir fics that don't have the conflict centered around the other heroes? I know this is pretty specific lol

...okay so I'm not sure what you mean exactly, most angsty ladynoir fics don't center the conflict around other heroes? Off the top of my head I can think of two major kinds of fic that should fit the bill: Ladynoir enemies au and "Chat gets injured/killed and Ladybug's very upset about it" fics. Though there are others, of course.

I (Wish I) Knew You by @buggachat

University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier. If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?

---

call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world.

Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir.

(adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

---

Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

---

A Little Fall Of Rain by Druwho

Unable to transform in time, Marinette sacrifices her life to save Adrien from an assassin. With the help of the Kwamis, Adrien is able to bring her back to life, but it comes at a price. One that Adrien alone must pay. Now, Adrien is forced to keep even more secrets. The fact that Marinette is alive and that she has been his Lady all long. More than ever, they must defeat Hawkmoth. Only then can Marinette return to her life.

---

Ghost of You by its_just_lori

It finally happened. The akuma attacked at the wrong time. They weren't prepared. For the first time, there was a casualty. Someone was killed. Marinette doesn't care that her identity was exposed to the world; she can't stop blaming herself for what happened. If only she'd been ready... if only she'd done more... There's nothing for Adrien to say. There's nothing he can do other than stay by her side and help her through this pain.

---

The Son of my Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

--

I hope these satisfy you! All of them are complete.

[charcadett]

I started thinking about the Elite Four doing something for Poppy’s birthday. And then I started thinking about Poppy dragging them to a haunted house. So here are some headcanons about that. Sometimes a family is just a girl and her coworkers.

- Initially, Rika is prepared to hold Poppy’s hand to ensure the poor girl doesn’t get frightened. Her laid-back personality mixed with Poppy’s fondness for her makes Rika the best candidate to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed. While this may have been Poppy’s idea, she is still quite young, and no one wants her special day ruined.

- Hassel isn’t even considered for this position. His screaming would probably end up scaring Poppy more than the haunted house itself. And while Larry isn’t the most expressive and unlikely to have any dramatic reactions, his plain aura would attract every scare actor like flies to honey. So Rika is assigned to watch Poppy duty. Which she is more than happy to fulfill.

- Geeta is originally supposed to go, but having all of the Elite Four and the Top Champion off work on the same day is easier said than done. So, she stays at the office and even picks up some of Larry’s paperwork and Rika’s secretarial duties. She’s frighteningly efficient. Rika returns to work pleasantly surprised at her empty inbox, and Larry returns mildly frustrated at his now-organized cubicle.

- Rika and Hassel are immediately on board with the idea. They both had plans to throw Poppy a party of some kind, and honestly still do so she can actually hang out with kids her own age, but the fact that her first choice is to spend the day with them tugs at their heartstrings. Rika affectionately ruffles her hair and Hassel has to excuse himself for a quick cry. As per usual. Larry is harder to convince, though not by much. Poppy attaching herself to his leg like a Komala until he agreed would have worked fine. His coworker's intense - and unnecessary, he already said yes - expressions solidified his answer. Rika and Hassel would probably kill him with hammers if he said no.

- Rika and Poppy are wearing matching outfits. While Poppy’s is an adorable dress, Rika opted for a similar colored t-shirt. It’s more her style. When Hassel arrives wearing his usual ensemble of a sweater vest and tie, Rika jumps at the opportunity to rib him about it. It isn’t until Larry shows up in full work attire that she finds a new target. He steps out of the flying taxi, and Rika doubles over with a sharp bark of a laugh. Instead of clouds, his tie is decorated with balloons. Festive!

- Things go great for the first few minutes. Until the first scare and Rika lets out a startled “Fucking hell!” As Poppy laughs and Rika deflates, Hassel opens his mouth, armed and ready, to give one of his infamous lectures.

- Said lecture is over in record time! Only fifteen minutes, half of which was said while continuing through the attraction and punctuated with several shrieks. Which Poppy finds particularly hilarious.

- Rika reacts to scares by clapping a hand over her mouth before she’s able to let out another crude exclamation. Hassel, despite his deep voice, hits a glass-shattering octave when he gets startled. Larry doesn’t give much of a reaction outside of a full body jolt and a quiet ‘wuh!’. And Poppy doesn’t scream once. She just laughs at the other three, skipping along without a care in the world.

- The day ends with Larry taking the group to a nearby bakery he’s particularly fond of. He happily pays for Poppy and himself, he knows he eats a lot and his bill will be significantly more expensive because of it. Poppy almost beats him. He gets up to get them thirds before Hassel puts a stop to it. She’s still a growing girl and doesn’t need so many sweets. Larry brings her extra the next day.

- While Geeta couldn’t make it, she is sure to present Poppy with a gift of her own. A small cake pop and a commemorative photo she requested from the haunted house. It’s Poppy’s favorite photo and the other three pray one day it’ll get destroyed in a freak accident so she’ll stop showing people.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

The Hoax by happyaspie

No Archive Warnings Apply | Rated T | Chp. 1/? | No Powers AU, OOC May Parker, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Ned Leeds. Warnings for Gaslighting and Emotional Manipulation.

Summary: Even after years of no evidence, Tony Stark refused to stop looking for his kidnapped son. Some people called it false hope, others called it fatherly love. But May Parker called it an opportunity.

“You and that kid share quite a few similarities, and the case has so little evidence. With your help, I really think we could use those things to our advantage.” Peter was dubious. “How, though?” he asked, his tone teetering toward sarcasm. It was a natural impulse that he couldn’t consistently avoid. No matter how hard he tried. “What do you want me to do? Knock on Tony Stark's front door and pretend to be Arno?” May said nothing as she stared at him from across the table. Initially, he didn’t understand. But as she elevated her eyebrows and tilted her head, it clicked. That was exactly what May wanted him to do.

[Exceprt Below the Cut]

Peter sat down at the kitchen table and twirled some spaghetti around his fork. Of all the things his Aunt May attempted to cook, pasta topped with a jar of tomato sauce and some cheap parmesan cheese was his favorite. He considered not mentioning his backpack had given up on him part way through the school day. He knew she’d be disappointed and didn't want to ruin the pleasant meal. However, no amount of pleasant conversation was going to make it any easier to get around his giant high school without a bag. He sighed nervously and glanced down at his plate. “I, uh, I need a new backpack,” he mumbled under his breath.

May brought her finger up to her ear and tapped it, her face one of disbelief. “Excuse me?” she questioned. “What was that?”

Peter swallowed hard and forced a smile. “I need a new backpack?” he repeated louder and with more clarity than before.

A huff of annoyance escaped May’s lips as she dropped her fork and crossed her arms over her chest. “I bought you one right at the beginning of the school year,” she replied.

“Yeah, but one of the seams ripped,” Peter attempted to defend, then pulled his lip between his teeth. May has asked him to quit the band, Academic Decathlon, and robotics club so he could get a part-time job. He’d easily complied, eager to contribute to the household income. Although he didn’t actually know how much he was actually helping. Each week he signed his check over to May, and she deposited it into her account. He never asked where it went after that. “If you would-” he began but quickly backtracked. “I mean, If I could just use a little bit of my paycheck from Delmar’s, maybe-”

“Peter. Sweetie,” May gently interjected. “You know that money is supposed to help us pay the bills. You don’t want to be the reason we can’t afford rent next month, do you?” she asked, her smile not quite meeting her eyes. “This neighborhood is expensive. Every little bit counts.”

“I don’t know. It’s a lot of books and stuff,” he unsurely replied. Even though his best friend was kind enough to allow him to use some of his locker space, Midtown was a specialized science and technology school. His schedule was rigorous and required a lot of materials. He wasn’t sure carrying everything around was all that reasonable.

“Don’t be selfish, Peter,” May mildly scolded. “There are only a few weeks of school left to go. You can get by with one of my reusable shopping bags until then.”

May was right. Peter knew she was right. There wasn't too much school left. Carrying his supplies around in a stupid cloth shopping bag wouldn’t kill him. Even if there were a handful of students who would never let him live it down. Starting with Flash Thompson. But he could handle that if it meant making things easier for his aunt. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s fine,” he swiftly agreed. He glanced at his half-eaten dinner and bit back a sigh. “May I be excused?”

[Continue Reading On AO3]

[beardedmrbean]

Oh I actually it confirm that the Yoruba were the primary victims of the Dahomey as 64% of African Americans slave ancestry is Yoruba https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2812948/

Which explains why I see Central African pictures and go “You look so familiar but I don’t know why”

Also about most slaves going to SA, well the thing is Afro Latino don’t go “ WAAAAAAAAAAH! SLAVERY RUINED MY LIFE! WAAAAAAAH!” Every 5 GODDAMN seconds like African Americans do

They also don’t have the racial politics as us…but that another story

And the Louisiana thing is interesting since it was a FRENCH colony, I mean even to this day Louisiana feel so different from the rest of us.

And I been check the wiki (of course I’m going to get a better source) https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yoruba_people

But wow look they had urbanized cities and fortress in precolonial times. Maybe we should-

Damnit they had slaves too, ugh maybe let not glorify it

I just wondering how a white chick in Hollywood that it would be good to glorify the Dahomey when people pointed out their true connection to Americans.

I’m do in my free time and these fuckers who make more than me can’t do the research

Oh right the anti white thing I might say in another anon…

Also about most slaves going to SA, well the thing is Afro Latino don’t go “ WAAAAAAAAAAH! SLAVERY RUINED MY LIFE! WAAAAAAAH!” Every 5 GODDAMN seconds like African Americans do

That and a lot of them were literally worked to death, you wanted to get bought by an American, if slavery was in your future at least, kept it going 20+ years past the US there too.

But wow look they had urbanized cities and fortress in precolonial times. Maybe we should- Damnit they had slaves too, ugh maybe let not glorify it

Everyone had slavery, if you had a war and took captives they became slaves because it's not like you could just keep them in a prison of some sort without having them earn their keep in some way and if you didn't want to just kill them or even worse let them go so they can come back and fight you again your options became limited.

You could also do this

15,000 men, which this was probably easier than enslaving them Czar of Bulgaria's problem now, new Czar that is.

(Random historical tangent over)

But ya everyone had slaves, in all honesty the practice was on the verge of dying in the western world when the civil war happened. War accelerated it but it was on its way out.

Not that it should have kept going till that happened.

I just wondering how a white chick in Hollywood that it would be good to glorify the Dahomey when people pointed out their true connection to Americans.

Girl Power, they can do anything a man can do and do it while bleeding even taking collecting slaves to sell to the Europeans.

I honestly don't think she thought that far ahead, Viola Davis on the other hand.........

Really most of the cast if they had looked into it should have walked imho, but dolla dolla bills y'all.

and I look forward to the 'anti white' one, I may sit on it till tomorrow if it comes tonight tho, depending on how long it is

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 14)

(Trigger warning for... I guess mental breakdown? Death, grief, complicated feelings surrounding grief)

“Thanks.” Juliet smiles at the officer, and then turns and walks up to her partner.

“So?”

“Checks out.” Juliet doesn’t even try to hide the relief in her voice. “The mom tried to kidnap her daughter and Shawn caught them, the mom confessed to everything and the little girl is already home safe.”

“And no bite marks on the perp?”

“Not a scratch.” The relief she feels is enough to make her melt. “She described Shawn as quote, ‘rude and offputtingly cavalier with a strangely calm approach to everything’.”

Lassiter scoffs, not without slight fondness, and with much mocking. “Sounds like Spencer.”

“Yeah.” Juliet can hear the dreamy relief in her own voice. “Yeah, it does. Even through all that. … Maybe we’ve been a little too hard on him, Carlton.”

“Too hard on him? O’Hara, he’s a vampire.”

“But he’s still Shawn.”

“The last time we used the ‘It’s still Spencer’ excuse to relax about him, someone ended up dead.”

The tension returns to her in a crashing tidal wave with that sobering reminder. “Right.”

“Right. Yes, it’s Spencer’s personality, his behavior, even his soul. Doesn’t matter. We need to keep an eye on him and keep him in check. Even if that means being a little unfriendly.”

“Easier for you to do than for me.”

“I know. So I’ll be doubly cautious for both of us.”

“Thank you, Carlton. … What now?”

“We’ll have to go back and get Guster, then decide on how we handle the rest of tonight.”

“... Or… call Gus to check in, then go get coffee and late-night pancakes before switching off?”

“... I would kill for a good cup of joe right about now.”

Juliet smiles and pulls out her phone, finding the contact. “Gus?”

“Juliet?”

“Just checking in. How is everything so far?”

“Good, actually. We’re making a list of uh… changes to Shawn’s psychic abilities. Like Mary said, they’re all out of whack now.”

“And he hasn’t…” 

“I’m fine. I put the cross on a paperclip necklace, he can’t get near my arteries.”

“Smart. Okay, well, Lassiter and I are going to take care of a few things and we’ll be back to relieve you soon.”

“Cool.”

She hangs up. “Are we splitting the bill tonight?”

“I was thinking I’ll watch Spencer tonight.”

“... So?”

“So, you should pay.”

“Oh, my god.”

“What?! It’s fair, O’Hara.” 

“You’re seriously trying to use this to get me to pay for pancakes.”

“It’s a perfectly valid reasoning.”

“You just want to annoy me into not fighting you on watching Shawn.”

“Right. I want to make absolutely sure I’m the one stuck with him for hours.”

“You don’t want me in danger.”

“You owe me.”

“I do. Alright, I’ll buy. But that means we’re both getting the kind with the strawberries and bananas.”

“Fine. Doctor says I need to eat more fruit anyway.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright.” Gus has the list of psychic attributes laid out in front of him, and beside it a new list of vampire attributes. The psychic list is much longer, including lots of little moments they now both realize were actual psychic instances in past cases. “So we both agree that the Nigel St Nigel cigarette case thing was psychic.”

“The first stop was. After that I just actually noticed the danger.”

“Still counts.” Gus writes it down. “Okay, vampire thing next. Can you fly?”

“Pretty sure that’s a no.” Shawn isn’t even sure how he’d go about trying that except for jumping off a cliff– which he considered, before getting a vision of his body floating in the water and Lassie and Jules watching it be hauled up. He’s not sure if he was dead-dead in the vision, or just unconscious, but it doesn’t matter because Lassie and Jules looked pale and stricken and they’ve already had to see his corpse once. 

“Psychic sure or regular sure?”

Shawn considers it for a moment, taking the time to eat a cheese puff. “Regular sure,” he decides.

“Fine. Then… how do those cheese puffs taste? Like ash?”

“Like artificial cheese.” Shawn eats another. “I think food tastes the same.”

“Does it feel the same?”

Shawn shakes his head and has another puff. “I had a smoothie earlier and it didn’t quench anything. That might be the biggest loss in all this.”

“You mean besides your eternal soul?”

“Pretty sure I still have my soul. … That one was definitely psychic.”

Gus notes that and the food thing down on their respective pages. “I think we’re making good progress here.”

“Me too, man. I knew we’d be able to figure this all out together.” He hadn’t intended on that at all. He still catches himself looking at Gus’s neck, as does Gus. It’s why Gus made the makeshift rosary in the first place. It’s risky, and difficult, and it makes him hungry.

Hence the cheese puffs. Which aren’t taking the edge off at all, but maybe if he pretends they do he can trick himself into it actually working.

“How about shapeshifting?”

“Gus, I’ve been a vampire for like, a day. Even if I could do that, it probably won’t happen before speed.”

“You said you super-sped at that lady’s car.”

“Yeah, on accident.”

“Fine. What about hypnosis?”

Shawn crunches a puff.

Yes. Yes, he has hypnosis. Strong, potent hypnosis. Some kind of power over someone’s very soul, compelling them to do what he says without even knowing he’s done anything. He can feel the phantom sensation of doing it to Gus, twice now, the way it tied them together for a moment in an otherworldly snare where Shawn was the trap and Gus the prey. And he hadn’t even meant to do it at all.

“I haven’t tried yet.” Not a lie. He hasn’t. But it’s not an answer. But how can he answer? ‘Sorry buddy, I’ve already hypnotized you, Lassie, Jules, and some random other person. You, Lassie, and Jules more than once, by the way.’ He’s still on thin ice, and he’s still figuring this out, and he’s sca–

“You haven’t tried?” “To be honest, man, I’m not super hyped about the powers stuff. They kind of suck so far.” He motions to Gus’s chest. 

Gus rubs the bruise. Shawn tilts his head and tries to parse if there’s any tip-offs for ‘bruise’. He’s pretty sure there isn’t– but it’s also just a normal, logical conclusion. He files that away as a ‘Maybe Psychic’ moment and crunches another puff. “So uh… how’re you planning on tricking out the office?”

“Hmm? Oh, that. Well, I talked with Father Wesley earlier–”

Shawn grits his teeth. A resentment he knows isn’t his bubbles up inside of him. He bites the next puff harder than he has to. Gus doesn’t seem to notice, now opening his laptop and looking something up.

“– and got some advice. I found Bible passage wallpaper in an online specialty shop, I’ll put whatever I have leftover from my apartment in here.”

Crunch. Is he scowling?

“I also ordered some actual crosses to hang around my desk. Just, you know, in case.”

Crunch. Shawn hopes his nod doesn’t look too stiff.

“I’m probably going to keep a spray bottle of holy water around too.”

Crunch.

Gus jumps in chair. Shawn looks down at his hand. He’s crushed the entire bag of puffs. 

“Whoops.” It’s all he can muster up. It’s nothing. It’s chips. It’s so much more.

“... Maybe I shouldn’t tell you all the stuff I have planned.”

“Yeah. … I’ll probably figure it out anyway.”

“Probably.”

“It was kind of impossible to hide anything from me even before all this.”

“Not that impossible. You didn’t know about Ruby.”

“Oh yeah.” He probably would now. It feels a little like his brain is a poster, folded up so that whatever the focal point of the design is was on full display. He could pick apart the details, admire the intricacies, hang it up and be satisfied with just that. But now he’s unfolded it for the first time, and it’s so much bigger than he ever imagined it’d be, and it’s almost difficult to take in the whole complicated piece. He can hone in on little aspects, specific sections, he can separate it by the leftover impressions of the folding, but trying to see it all as one leaves him unable to see any of it. He could probably know everything, if he could just back up far enough to take it all in…

‘Don’t.’ His grandma’s voice drifts through his head softly. ‘You won’t be able to get back.’

“Shawn? Shawn!” He blinks and Gus is standing in front of him, pencil-cross tucked into his shirt so it’s not waving in Shawn’s face as Gus leans over and lightly slaps his cheek. The warmth of Gus’s hand enriches the smell-taste hovering around him. Shawn jerks away and tries to cover the seize of panic with an exaggerated flop and shout of surprise. He falls off the chair in his fervor. 

Gus just tsks and watches Shawn flop around for a second through half-lidded, done-with-you eyes. Shawn sits up, now covered in the dusty remains of the puff bag.

“What was that?” Gus puts his hands on his hips. “You completely blanked out.”

“Gus, please. I don’t blank out.”

“Your eyes glazed over, Shawn.”

“Now I want doughnuts.” He doesn’t. He wishes he does. He should.

“I’m serious, Shawn! That was–” Shawn zeros in on Gus’s hands, highlighted as they tremble slightly. His eyes go up to Gus’s lip, also trembling, and the way Gus keeps looking at his neck before quickly looking away.

“Oh, buddy.” Shawn stands, putting a hand on Gus’s shoulder. Warm, pulsing with Life, easy to take. He crumbles up the chip bag in his other hand, keeping the one on Gus’s shoulder loose and casual. “Look, man, if you need to…”

“No, it’s– I’m fine.”

“You were having flashbacks, weren’t you?”

“... Maybe.”

“I’m sorry, man. I-I can’t imagine… I mean if I found you like…”

“Shawn, seriously. I’m fine.”

The turmoil in Shawn’s guts is different right now. It’s not hunger, not searing pain, not uncertainty and confusion twisting his stomach into knots. It’s a deep pit of dread, a rolling cycle of regret and grief, a tight line of If Only that…

… Isn’t… his.

…

“Gus?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you need to go back home.”

“I’m supposed to keep an eye on you until Lassie gets back, remember?”

“Dude, looking at me is just hurting you right now.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is. No wonder you keep throwing up, man. This feels awful.”

“Feels aw- you can feel my feelings right now?”

“Kind of, I– it’s complicated.”

“... I don’t want to leave right now, Shawn.”

The grief sharpens. The almost gentle roll of the grief cycle becomes a tear. Shawn sucks in a breath at the same time Gus pulls in a shaky sob.

“Gus, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You already did.”

“But I’m back! I’m right here, man!”

“You know it’s not the same, Shawn.”

“But it can be! After we figure all this weird new stuff out! Nothing has to change, man. I won’t let it, we’ve got a good thing going and nothing is taking that away from us.”

“You died.”

“Only for a little while.”

“No, Shawn.” Gus brushes the hand off his shoulder, putting both of his hands on Shawn. “You died. You– we saw–”

“But it’s okay now! We can move on from it, buddy, just like we always do.”

“Not just like we always do! Don’t you–”

“... Don’t I what?”

“... Don’t you feel off?”

“Don’t I feel off?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you died!” Gus shakes him. “Because we didn’t believe you! You died surrounded by freaky monsters, alone, in a basement! It’s not normal to just move on from that, Shawn!”

“What are you– are you mad that I’m not upset enough or something?!”

“YES!” Gus pushes Shawn away– or tries to. Shawn isn’t even wobbled by all the force Gus puts into it, and instead Gus is the one who ends up pushed back and stumbling away. “YOU’RE DEAD, SHAWN! YOU’RE DEAD AND YOU’RE STILL WALKING AROUND MAKING JOKES AND ACTING LIKE IT’S JUST SOME EVERY DAY THING!”

“What do you want me to do, Gus?! Sit on my bathroom floor and mope?! Hang around my apartment thinking about what it felt like to die?! I don’t work like that!”

“No, you just run away when it’s something you can’t brush off!”

“Run– that was years ago! I haven’t run away from something huge since I was eighteen, Gus! I’m here, I’m here to stay, I’m not going anywhere!”

“YOU DID!”

“And I’m back!”

“You’re NOT! Not the same Shawn who left, and we both know it, so stop trying to pretend otherwise!” Tears are streaming down Gus’s face. There’s a frantic look in his eye and Shawn can feel the confusing tangle of emotions taking up his best friend’s chest, the grief and the anger and the disbelief and the fear all twisting into each other to make something just ugly and painful.

“What do you want from me, Gus?!”

“I DON’T KNOW! JUST– JUST STOP PRETENDING IT’S NOT DIFFERENT!”

“I CAN’T!”

“WHY NOT?!”

“I JUST CAN’T!”

“YOU HAVE TO!”

“I WON’T!”

“WHY?!”

“BECAUSE I’M SCARED!”

Silence.

Gus stands, crying and huffing and panting. Shawn is frozen, not daring to breath, blink, even move to run. He misses his heart hammering in his chest in moments like these. He misses feeling it jump into his throat, hearing blood roaring in his ears, feeling his pulse speed up and not Gus’s, he misses–

Oh.

He’s crying.

He’s crying, and Gus is moving towards him with a tissue. He offers it to Shawn. Shawn still can’t move. This doesn’t feel real. None of it has felt real, except for when it has, and then it felt too real to be real. He feels like the admission popped his Shamu pool floatie and now he’s sinking, sinking into shark-infested waters with weights strapped around his ankles and no don’t think about Mary choking on blood in his arms right now on top of all of it–

Gus wipes Shawn’s cheek for him. He’s still crying too. “I’m scared,” Gus says, voice wobbling. 

“Yeah.” Shawn’s voice comes out a watery croak. He motions weakly at Gus’s fake rosary.

“Not like that.” Gus swallows. “I’m not scared of you, Shawn.”

“Yeah you are.”

“A little bit. But I’m scared for you.”

“... Why?”

“I didn’t just see my best friend die. My best friend died, and now he’s trying to ignore that.”

“Gus–”

“We need to talk about it, Shawn.”

“... I don’t want to.”

“I know.”

“... It might not even help.”

“We still have to.”

“It’s never helped anything before.”

“Have we ever tried?”

“... I don’t… want… to have died, Gus.” His voice catches. He’s trembling now. “That can’t have actually happened.”

“It doesn’t seem possible.”

“It doesn’t, right? I don’t– things work out for me.”

“They always have.”

“They always have. They always do. It can’t have just… not, this time.”

“But it did. Not, did not.”

“... What if I did die? … For real? And I’m not…”

“You?”

“... Yeah.” Shawn wipes his own eyes this time. He doesn’t recognize his own voice. He’s never heard it like this. Clogged up, shaky, weak. “Gus, I’m… I’m scared. I’m sc–”

The last word doesn’t make it out. He sobs.

Gus pulls him into a hug, also sobbing. Shawn feels Gus’s heartbeat in his entire body, in his bones and deeper, but for the moment the hunger and temptation don’t come with it. As Shawn hugs back, taking in the warmth and feelings and Life, he doesn’t feel any of the painful tension of before. He feels Gus’s whole self, body and soul and all, and feels comfort.

[billford-dump]

Ford goes down to the bunker to get some old equipment and sees the shapeshifter in Dipper’s form trapped in cryogenic stasis. All brain cells immediately shut off. That is his NEPHEW, he needs to SAVE HIM.

The shapeshifter only pretends to be Dipper for a few minutes before Ford catches on, but he’s old, and out of practice, and slower from so much time spent in safety, and it gets the better of him. Ford is left to bleed out from the deep gash on his front, and the shapeshifter takes his place.

---

Bill knows the moment ‘Ford’ walks in that it isn’t really Ford. The proportions are wrong, the colors ever-so-slightly off, a dozen little details that aren’t quite right. Most damningly of all there’s no flash of annoyance when he looks at Bill. He asks to see the thing that isn’t Ford in the kitchen, and it agrees easily enough. Another red flag, Ford is never that passive with him. He would want to know why Bill wanted to talk with him in private. They step away from the others, and Bill stands next to the knife block and starts rambling about some experiment that the real Sixer finished weeks ago. Eventually, it gets bored and makes the mistake of fully looking away from him. (Ford would never look away with Bill so close to a weapon.) He takes the opportunity to grab a knife from the knife block and stabs it upwards, through the ribs to where he knows the shapeshifter’s heart is, though he stops just short of killing it. It takes more concentration than he normally feels like dishing out to exert such exact control over his body, to stop with how much force he put into the stab, but he supposes this is a special circumstance. Ford is worth the effort. So long as one wrong move could be fatal, the shapeshifter wouldn’t risk moving or changing.

“You didn’t really think this would fool me, did you? Where is he.”

---

Bill leaves the shapeshifter dead on the floor once he gets what he wants from it.

Everyone piles into the golfcart, skirting around the body that Bill had left in the kitchen. It doesn’t take long to reach the bunker, not with the way Stan drives when his brother could be dying in a hole somewhere.

The kids stay in the front room while Bill and Stan go through the over-complicated trap Spectacles built before his mind started to go, then the lab area, then the little decontamination closet- and really, why did the bunker have to be so spread out? Couldn’t they have made everything a little easier to get to? A bit more convenient and closer together?

---

They find Ford sitting right outside the decontamination closet, having dragged himself across the room if the trail of blood was any indication. He was still conscious though, and he’d pressed his coat against the injury to slow the bleeding. Better than being dead, at least.

Bill and Stan (mostly Stan) gently help him up so they can move him to the lab area where the medical equipment is, though Ford complains that they're making a huge fuss over nothing and he's survived much worse. Nobody is comforted by that. Really, he can lose a lot more blood before it becomes truly dangerous! Everyone is even less comforted. Ford stops trying to make things better.

Stan goes about cutting off Ford's sweater (no, this is already ruined, you're not taking it off the normal way and hurting yourself worse) to get at the injuries while Bill gathers whatever medical supplies are still usable after so long. Ford is uncomfortable with being shirtless, though not for nudity reasons. Nakedness doesn’t mean much to him any more after so long away from people.

No, he doesn’t want anyone to see what’s on his skin. The permanent reminders of his old loyalty to Bill, the stupid tattoos he got later on, the scars that covered him... Bill already knows about all of them, it’s not worth trying to hide it from him, and he resigned himself to Stan occasionally seeing them months ago, but the kids... They don’t know about what’s under his sweaters and he doesn’t want them to find out. Even with them waiting outside, he’s worried about it.

---

Bill has a steadier hand and better eyes, even if Stan has more experience giving stitches, so it falls to him to sew Sixer back up. Everything that could be used as sedation or painkillers went bad years ago, but he does his best to be gentle with it and Ford does his best to stay quiet so nobody will worry. Bill stitches him up while Stan hovers anxiously and the kids sit in the next room (Ford insisted, he doesn't want them to see). He does it surprisingly quickly, and very neatly too given the subpar materials and lack of practice.

Ford finally relaxes a bit once the last stitch is in and the thread is snipped, and that's around when he becomes very aware that he's half-naked and Bills had his hands all over his chest for a good while. And Bill still has his hands all over Ford because he's adding the gauze/bandages over the stitches. Perhaps it’s a good thing he lost so much blood. Once Bill's done he gives Ford very strict orders to not fucking move, if you pop your stitches Sixer I'll kill you myself.

Then comes the ordeal of getting him back to the Shack, plus the kids demanding to see him. He wants a shirt. He absolutely does not want Mabel to see his all-star tattoo because he knows she'll want to make him a sweater with that on it. He doesn't want Dipper to see just how absolutely dedicated he was to Bill. He doesn't want to go all the way to the Shack completely shirtless. The problem is solved by sending Stan back to the Shack on the golfcart to get a button-up that wouldn’t require Ford to lift his arms above his head and put stress on the injury.

---

While Stan's gone Bill props Ford up a little and dusts off a blanket from the little cot down there for him to cover up with before letting the kids in. Ford manages to reassure them, with Bill smacking him whenever he decides that Ford is moving too much and putting himself at risk of ruining the stitches.

Stan comes back after a while, children are herded out of the room while Bill and Stan help Ford get the shirt on and button it up, which is around when they finally see his back and the long, shallow, still-slightly-bleeding scratches on it that Ford conveniently forgot to mention. They're not particularly bad, which is why Bill doesn't feel guilty about slapping them while he berates Ford for hiding injuries.

Stan sends Bill out of the room for slapping the scratches on Ford's back, and while he's busy patching up his brother Bill is busy telling the small twins that Ford was hiding an injury and they should absolutely guilt trip him over this. He'll pay them to guilt trip him. He has Sixer’s wallet right here. They can name their price, as long as it’s less than five dollars total. Sixer really needs to carry more cash.

---

Stan finishes patching up Ford’s back, really all it needed was some gauze and antibiotics when they get home. Bill is allowed back in to help get Ford’s shirt on without pulling on his injuries, and they both help him up the stairs to the golfcart. Ford continues to insist that they're making a big fuss over nothing, but Bill can see the way he stiffens up slightly when he moves wrong, how he's trying not to bend too far or reach above his head and grits his teeth when he turns. He knows. The ride home is bumpy, but not too bad, and they get back in one piece.

---

Ford’s recovery is surprisingly quick, especially once he has access to his lab in the basement. There are a number of substances that can be used to speed up the healing process, and by the end of the month his newest scars blend in with all the old ones.