Let's Get Started

Don't mind me, just gotta put a little theory about gravity falls out into the world now that it's been revived

WARNING: minor Book of Bill spoilers

So in the BoB and the 3rd journal, Ford mentions that he needs to destroy the journals, but turns back on it because of "the importance of his research". However, he could have just torn out the pages about summoning Bill and the portal and burned those, and the rest of his research would have been safe

So why didn't he?

You could argue that it was because he couldn't reason through his growing paranoia and admittedly delusional state, and that is valid considering everything Bill was putting him through at that point - but it also would have been one of the first things to cross his mind, right??? He'd already said that he was planning to dismantle the portal, but was putting it off for some reason - again, something that didn't make any sense considering how terrified he was that Bill would be able to start it up again.

In the BoB, it talks about how Bill tormented Ford to try to get him to open the portal again - physical, psychological, and emotional torture on top of very real threats and gaslighting. There was also a point where Bill showed Ford that he could take full control of Ford's brain, turning off memories (such as his own name) at will, and Ford would be completely unable to tell that the memories were gone until Bill brought it up

So, here's my theory: Bill knew that Ford was planning to burn the journals/the pages about the portal, which were his only chance to enter the third dimension. He couldn't let that happen, so he fucked around in Ford's head - planted a few ideas, erased a plan or two, and suddenly, Ford was much more concerned about his research surviving than he was a couple hours ago. Concerned to the point that he wanted to hide his journals rather than destroy them. Basically, Ford being so protective of his research was due to more of Bill's manipulations in his mind that he never found out about. It's the only reason I could think of about why he went from 100% ready to burn the journals to being willing to physically attack Stan for trying to do just that

Anyways, that's all, figured I should get my theory out in the world now that canon actually backs it up a bit more than before BoB came out

Fandoms and emotional support characters

Alright, let's go

Marvel - Tony Stark + Peter Parker + Rocket Raccoon

DC - (The Batman with Robert Pattinson is the only DCEU movie I support) Bruce Wayne + Raven

Transformers - (Not Bayverse) Bumblebee + Soundwave + Ratchet + Optimus Prime

Ranger's Apprentice - Halt O'Carrick

Tangled the Series - Eugene Fitzherbert

TMNT 2012/ROTTMNT - Both iterations of Raphael, and 2k12 Donnie

Criminal Minds - Spencer Reid

9-1-1 - Evan Buckley

Leverage - Eliot Spencer

The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon

Stranger Things - Steve Harrington

Harry Potter - Harry Potter + Severus Snape

Ducktales - Donald Duck + Scrooge McDuck

Race to the Edge - Snotlout Jorgenson

We Bare Bears - Ice Bear

Trolls - Branch

The Mandalorian - Din Djarin

Lego Ninjago - Zane Julien

Rick and Morty - Rick Sanchez

Puss in Boots - Puss

The Owl House - Hunter

Warrior Cats - Firestar + Jayfeather + Gray Wing

Helluva Boss - Moxxie

Hazbin Hotel - Alastor

Yes I am aware that they are all men. No, I do not experience a sexual attraction to them. Rather it's like they are all simultaneously my fathers, my children, and my emotional support babygirls. I want to hurt them purely to see them comforted. I want to watch them struggle mainly to see how they overcome their pains, and I want to see fluff because there is a reason I call them my trauma buddies and I want them to have good things. (I have gay ships for most of them on top of straight ships, on top of no ships, on top of ot3s). I'm sure I'll end up adding to and subtracting from this list as time passes, but this is the most current one.

Also, I will not read or write reader insert or OC-centric fics. I don't know why but they make me irrationally angry so I avoid them

This little shit's been haunting my dash for days, so I figured I'd contribute to the cause

You know the drill, click the pictures for better quality, yadda yadda yadda

He's so terrible, I love him so much. I can't believe this little shit is the first fanart I'll ever post, wtf.

He learns that he doesn't have to pretend to be white anymore and he's promptly hit with emotions like a bag of bricks to the face.

On one hand, he's completely elated. He can actually be himself, have his curly hair and accent and mannerisms, etc, and NOT have to worry about being hatecrimed/having his reputation ruined. And on top of that, he can make fun of white people???? Let's Fucking Go

On the other hand, Ouch, Oh No, He Is Feeling Emotions. It's probably a lot to realize that you don't have to hide yourself anymore after doing it for over a fucking century. He's hit with the realization in front of the others and he just like,,,freezes. Kind of wide-eyed and someone asks if he's okay and he just kind of deflects like Yes, I Am Always Fine 100% Of The Time, Why Do You Ask

He's not though. He actually feels like he's on the verge of crying because of how utterly OVERWHELMING the influx of emotion is, but of course he doesn't say that. Never in a million years because - again - Ew, Emotions

Then he goes up to his room and DOES start crying because he was just hit with the realization that yes, his hair is curly, but he doesn't actually know how to take care of it. He can straighten it, but that's about it, which Hurts. Over 100 years of pretending to be a white man, and once he finally doesn't have to anymore, Alastor realizes that he doesn't actually know how to be his real self. And maybe he did once, or maybe he NEVER knew how. Either way, it Hurts and feels Bad and Awful

I like the idea that Alastor is so Not with the times that he doesn't realize that racism isn't as prevalent as it used to be. (Still around but definitely not like before.)

He's been straightening his hair and putting on a Specific Accent for the past century trying so hard to be white-passing, not having realized that not many people would bat an eye anymore towards his curls. Hell, some people would swoon if he Talked Southern to them.

I want him to be punched in the face with the realization that he doesn't really NEED to do that anymore. Like, maybe a hotel guest calls him a cracker and he's genuinely taken aback that you can make fun of white people for being white and NOT fear mass persecution. (And also low-key offended/disgusted to be mistaken for a caucasian man, despite deliberately trying to pass as white. He knows it doesn't make sense, shut up.)

Alastor: Vaggie.

Vaggie: Uh, what?

Alastor: One of our guests accused me of being a "lily white" man. Like it's an insult. Have I missed something or is pretending to be a white man not a valid survival technique anymore?

Vaggie: ... Why are you pretending to be a white man?

Alastor:

Alastor: The fact that you're asking me that tells me SO much.

On the flip side, the realization that he can make fun of white people now becomes Alastor's FAVORITE modern development. His next radio broadcast easily becomes his most popular showing on account of him roasting Vox's privileged white ass.

He's become Hip With The Kids.

(He's quietly thrilled by the new following he receives. This would have NEVER happened during his era.)

Look, I was confused by my math homework-

Open tags

Found this on Twitter, so I thought, why not posting it here and doing a tag game 😊

Ok, I’ll go first

If he is the reason, I’d go to prison gladly 🥰❤️‍🔥

Tagging: @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @nic-214 @milkyway-ashes @dr-radiation @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @sunsetdaydreamer @therockywhorerpictureshow @delicatelyfantasticninja and everyone 😊

Sorry if I forgot to tag some of you!

reblogging this for myself

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

Thanks for the tag Rose! These are just going to be my most recent ones lol, I can't choose between my children

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Halt O'Carrick (Ranger's Apprentice)

Zane (Lego Ninjago)

Bumblebee (Transformers [anything but Bayverse tbh])

Optimus Prime (Same as Bumblebee)

No pressure tags: @guesswhocouldntsleep @that-hazbin @lonely-lost-insanity @justaticklishdeer

five comfort characters, five tags

(had to start a new thread, got too long) thanks for tagging me @loulooser ooh i like this okay - nick nelson (osemanverse) - aled last (osemanverse) - peeta mellark (hunger games) - linh song (keeper of the lost cities) - xavier hawthorne (the inheritance games)

tagging @lyssified @mister3127 @raeny-nights-and-faery-lights @weirdo09 @charliethinks

Wish I Could Love You

HA, you though that just because the last thing I posted was fluff, that I'd ease off the angst train??? Well April Fools bitches, I'm back with even more angst than before!!!!!

Here's the Ao3 link

TW for some serious acephobia (internalized and otherwise) and references to conversion therapy. Also a bit of self-harm at the end, because Alastor has trichotillomania in canon (as seen during his meltdown). If you want to avoid that, it starts at "Crimson claws" and ends at "tears". It's just one sentence, so you won't miss much. There is also a brief non-con kiss. I just wanted to vent the aroace pain from close friends confessing romantic feelings, and I almost made myself cry at work, so fun times

(PS: this does not mean I think ships with Alastor are not valid. I myself am in a happy long-term relationship. Asexuality and Aromanticism are part of a spectrum which means there are many ways for it to be interpreted by those who identify with the terms. There are a few ships with Alastor that I love, but the people writing them have to be careful to consider his identity while doing so)

ANYWAYS, I'll stop rambling now and let you read the fic

An evening spent with Vox was always guaranteed to be interesting. That was part of what had drawn Alastor to him in the first place after all, the Radio Demon forever seeking entertainment. However, after twenty years of friendship even Alastor could admit he was no longer in it for the entertainment factor. Even through his lifetime of severe emotional repression, Alastor was smart enough to see that he had grown to genuinely care about the TV demon - which had led to quite the emotional meltdown on his part, embarrassingly enough.

All of that was besides the point. The point was that even though they were just having dinner in Vox’s apartment as they did at least once a week, things still had yet to become dull, which was quite the accomplishment for someone whose attention was as flighty as Alastor’s. 

As Vox rambled about this new guy he had met - Mateo? Stephano? No, that wasn’t it - Valentino! As Vox rambled about this Valentino character, Alastor mused on the relationship he had with the TV demon. The red-head had never had a positive relationship with another man before, besides Husker of course. That hardly counted though, considering he owned the former overlord’s soul. Vox was truly a novelty. 

“Hey, Alastor?” The deer demon was pulled from his thoughts by his friend’s slightly hesitant tone. He focused back in on Vox’s face, and was a bit confused by the way Vox’s gaze was darting around the room. It looked like he wanted to look at Alastor but was too flustered to do so, a slight red glow lighting up the lower portion of his screen where his cheeks would be.

“What is it?” Alastor asked, slightly wary of the strange atmosphere that had filled the air around the couch they had chosen to share. His ears pinning back was the only outward sign of his unease. 

Vox finally seemed to get over whatever was keeping him from making eye contact, but Alastor couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t. He didn’t know how to process the unbearably soft way the other was looking at him. His stomach lurched unpleasantly, as though he had missed a stair. 

Vox reached over and gently took Alastor’s hands in his own, and Alastor suddenly found himself wishing he hadn’t set his plate on the coffee table - it would have given him an excuse to avoid this soft contact that felt far too intimate, even with their long-term friendship.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while, but it never felt like the right time.” Vox shifted one hand so that it gently cradled Alastor’s cheek, and as he continued, Alastor’s smile shrunk to the smallest it had been since he had been forced to maintain it - unable to turn downwards, but begging to reflect the dread blooming in his chest.

“But, I’m tired of waiting for ‘the right time’. So, I’m just gonna come out and say it.”

“Vox…please,” Alastor begged, voice refusing to rise above a whisper, and static mangling his words. Internally, he was screaming, begging on his knees for Vox to stop before he said something he couldn’t take back. Vox either didn’t hear him or didn’t understand what he meant, because the TV demon continued forward.

“I love you, Alastor. I have for a long time, and I want to spend the rest of my afterlife loving you. We’ve been friends for such a long time, and I want to move to the next step in our relationship.” Vox was positively beaming, warm love and sincere affection in his eyes as he peered deep into Alastor’s soul - unable to see the pain he had wrought with those three words.

Alastor was crushed. His throat closed up and it felt like a clawed fist had clenched around his chest, his heart aching and lungs unable to draw breath. He tried to choke words past his constricted throat, but couldn’t force anything out. His brows lowered as his scarlet eyes widened, burning with hurt and shock.

Vox’s own brows furrowed in concern at Alastor’s silence. “Alastor?”

Alastor could barely hear him over his rushing thoughts. He felt so…used. How long had their friendship been based around Vox’s desire to get into his pants? What parts of their relationship had been genuine friendship rather than a furthering of Vox’s goals for a romantic partner? Was this Alastor’s fault? Had he done something to encourage this?

The worst part was the guilt. Alastor couldn’t say it about very many people, either in the living world or in Hell, but he truly loved Vox. He loved him as he loved Rosie, and he saw the other demon as the brother he’d never had in life, but that was the problem. He could never give Vox what he wanted. Alastor knew he was broken - the doctors had confirmed as much while he was alive, and the medications and more aggressive treatments he had received for his dysfunction had never worked as intended. 

Vox deserved so much better.

His eyes burned and his stomach clenched with nausea, and Alastor fought back tears that hadn’t fallen since his mother’s passing. Alastor wanted to love Vox that way, if only to spare his feelings, but he just couldn’t. 

Vox leaned forward, taking Alastor’s silence as a positive answer, and as he guided Alastor’s face in for a gentle kiss, the deer demon panicked. He lurched back as their lips connected, accidentally throwing himself off the couch to lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Vox looked startled as he took in Alastor’s panicked expression, and made to stand as Alastor scrambled to his feet. 

“Alastor, what - ?” he started, reaching for the shorter demon’s hand. Alastor jerked back as though he’d been burned.

“Don’t,” he hissed defensively, clutching his hands to his chest like he was afraid to be within touching distance of the other demon. “Don’t touch me!”

Vox looked crushed. Alastor felt as though a spear had stabbed through his heart: he caused that expression on Vox’s face. 

“I won’t - I can’t - !” Alastor growled in pain and frustration, unable to articulate his thoughts. He tried to think of something, anything that could salvage their relationship before things got out of hand, but the rage growing in Vox’s expression burned that possibility into mere ashes. The anger masked the hurt that had been there previously.

“Are you kidding me?!” Vox didn’t quite shout, but to Alastor, he might as well have screamed through a megaphone. The deer demon took two steps back for every advance Vox made, feeling uncharacteristically like prey. He was used to having control over every interaction, but this had quickly spiraled into something monstrous.

“Twenty years of friendship all for you to get pissed when I say I want to progress things like a normal person would?! I waited, wanting you to be comfortable because I know you need time to adjust to people, but you still don’t care about me enough to even consider it?! If you never wanted me, why did you lead me on? Why did you pretend to enjoy my company if you knew you would reject me? Is my pain really that funny to you? Fuck, Alastor - can’t you see how hard I’m trying?” Vox had backed Alastor into a corner, and the deer demon was reminded violently of his youth - long hours spent cowering beneath someone who wanted nothing more than to make Alastor wish he was never born.

Alastor hadn’t felt this small since he had made his deal, and he had never assumed he would feel that way around Vox. The Radio Demon was so overwhelmed with emotion, that he did the one thing he had promised himself he would never do again.

He ran.

As Alastor fled into his shadows, he felt Vox’s arms try to wrap around him and prevent his escape, and heard the TV demon’s frustrated and agonized cry as he slipped under the door. He didn’t stop until he reached his radio tower, and reverted back to his more solid form once he was safely inside.

Alastor backed away from the door until his back hit the wall, and he slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor with his knees curled to his chest. A soft, staticky whimper forced its way past his lips before he could silence it, and the tears he’d been fighting finally burned fiery tracks down his cheeks. Alastor’s breath hitched, and he buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around his head and legs in a futile attempt to muffle the choked hiccups.

Sobs tore out of his throat from a place deep within his chest, wracking his whole body with the force of them. Stitches pulled at the corners of his mouth, forcing him to grin through his tears, and he had never wished so strongly for the ability to stop smiling. Crimson claws fisted in his hair, scratching at his scalp in his panic and sending small rivulets of blood down his face to merge with the tears.

Alastor had just destroyed one of his closest relationships because he was so broken that he couldn’t even reciprocate affection normally. It was all his fault, and the guilt tore at him in ways he hadn’t felt in decades.

Drowning in grief for the bridge he’d set ablaze, Alastor couldn’t stop thinking about how - outside of his treatment plans - Vox had stolen his first kiss.

Ok look, I KNOW that literally no one is happy about this picture, but hear me out:

If you use ✨edible glitter✨ and mix that into your coffee so it looks like those weird fancy wines ex:

I would totally drink that shit. I could wake up every morning and drink my Elixir of Divine Energy and feel like a witch/goddess/etc. I'd drink that in public and just leave everyone confused about wtf is in my cup. Anyways, this is why I think we shouldn't all immediately jump on the bandwagon that the glitter coffee is incurably evil and disgusting

Imagine Charlie and Alastor visit Rosie one day and Rosie just casually drops, "Hey, remember that time Zestial swaddled you during an overlord meeting?" And now Alastor has to either explain what happened to Charlie and live with the embarrassment, or let her come to her own - likely much more embarrassing - conclusions and spread them around the hotel 😭

When Zestial gets fed up