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#as I had to think of one answer for each

sailoreuterpe · 1 year

Note

Time for a bit of positivity! We’re coming to the end of 2022. What’s one thing you’re proud of, one thing that makes you smile, and one thing that makes you laugh looking back on the year?

One thing that I’m proud of is that I’m learning to drive. I’m nearing forty and it terrifies me but I need a license if I’m going to get a decent job. A decent job will pay for repairs to the ancestral home, food to put into the fridge, and comfort for my family if/when I can no longer care for them myself. As well, spite is in play–I’ll be so excited to tell people to fuck off if they bug me about having a license once I have one, lol.

One thing that makes me smile is that I made and strengthened so many friendships this year! I met a bunch of awesome “Bob’s Burgers” friends, I kept up with so many “Sailor Moon” friends, I got to see my tangible friends SO much more than in 2021…My family and my friends are really the main reasons that I am who I am so they all make me smile.

One thing that makes me laugh is a convoluted story about rye bread that I can share if anyone cares. However, the end result was a genuinely awesome gift to my brother that he really appreciated. I love when I can get people gifts that they truly need or want.

#Notes by Nikki #asks #answered #The Askalator #babs0987 #thank you #I really liked these questions #as I had to think of one answer for each #but I got to think of other answers as well #New Year 2022 #New Year's Eve #New Year's Eve 2022 #holidays #holidays 2022 #holidays 2023

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becca-e-barnes · 8 months

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Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

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martyrbat · 1 year

Text

batman: shadow of the bat #0

[ID: a flashback of the outside of Wayne Manor at night. A narration box (unrelated to the scene) reads, “Ya think he's got a guardian angel, or somethin'?” Inside the manor, Leslie Thompkins and Alfred Pennyworth are talking in regards of young Bruce Wayne. They sit in a magnificent library at a small table as Bruce sits at his own desk that's across the room and has his face buried in a book. Alfred reassures her, “— Worried about him, Doctor Thompkins? I can assure you there's no need! Master Bruce has the manor to live in — myself to look after him — the best education money can buy—”. Leslie cuts Alfred off before he can continue rambling out more examples. She tells him, “It's what he doesn't have that bothers me, Alfred. Friends — hobbies — the kind of life a normal teenager looks forward to. He spends all his time in the gym, or here reading. I don't think he ever recovered from his parents' death.” We're shown Bruce, now in a close-up and able to see the book he's reading is titled ‘Lip Reading For Beginners’. Bruce peers over the book intensely as Leslie continues to express her rightful concern, “He almost seems obsessed!” END ID]

#baby brucie #love you leslie.... sorry you have to deal with the most insufferable male characters....#also side tangent maybe but i HC bruce having hearing lost because he was in an alleyway when a gun fired twice right near him #so the >:3 part of my brain loves thinking of bruce not even getting to hear the eulogy or answer a police report because of the tinnitus #that's still ringing in his ears. having his entire already lonely life destroyed because his parents were brutally murdered #and then having the permanent reminder and something that effects his senses in his every day #batman uses IIC or CIC and has amplified sound from his cowl. bruce uses BTE/RITE ones btw... if you even care.#i have mild hearing loss and tinnitus since i was a kid bc haha trauma & i had this HC since i got into batman so i have done so much #fucking research on different hearing aids and how the ear functions and such for personal AND projection purposes 👍#anyways. do you think leslie and alfred have ever explored each others bodies.#c: batman: shadow of the bat | i: 0 #crypt's panels #bruce wayne #leslie thompkins #alfred pennyworth #disabled bruce #bruce's childhood

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muzzleroars · 2 months

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ik that u dont rlly post much abt p5 anymore but when i was going thru ur p5 tags and ur shuake artwork i SWEAR i had a flashback. i saw ur art YEARS AGO and seeing it now made me realize that. and now u reappear on my tumblr for my current interest (ultrakill) ... are all shuake fans also gabv1el fans and do they share something in common?

OMG HIII....honestly for me i think the appeal is in the starcrossed lovers angle - akira and akechi were pitted against each other cosmically (by a god no less), while gabriel and v1 are similarly opposed by the order of the universe YET both of these pairs come together to see that they're so much more similar than they should ever be allowed to be and they oppose that fate (ok ok ultrakill is still in development, but gabriel at least has opposed his place) there's also an inherent tragedy that this cannot end well and never will - akechi takes back his life through choosing his death with akira supporting his autonomy to do so, while gabriel is burning out and v1 is quickly running out of fuel sources. they're fully, totally doomed by their narratives, they are enemies meant to destroy each other, yet they choose love anyway. finally there's just the fun of popular important bigshot falls in love with....whoever/whatever THAT guy is?????? peak. of course there's also MAJOR differences, but that's what connects them in my mind...also that i want them living happily ever after....

#not to mention they beat each other up #makes me think of the one on one akechi fight in his confidant...#i was wearing akira's silly little dance outfit #and i had a trumpeter equipped that just. happened to absorb/reflect all of akechi's moves lmaooooo #like it blocked light and phys it was so funny #cake answers

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tswwwit · 1 year

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Could we get a taste of that new work you started…👀

Heck, have the whole thing! This is for that AU of an AU where Ford captured Bill/Bill was his familiar, and Dipper freed him, like an idiot. Here's the first fic and here's some needed backstory.

---------------------------------------

Dipper leans over to let his fingers trail through the water. It’s oddly warm to the touch. Bill’s voice carries, weird and echoing, over the river and through the empty city.

Which Dipper’s ignoring, for the moment.

Not like he’s missing much; he can't understand the lyrics anyway. Bill’s demonic singing continues over his inattention.

This dream is distinctly… not a good one. On the surface, at least; Dipper’s not terrified, but only because of his company.

He also might be a little jaded at this point.

Truth be told, he’s visited a lot of dreams at this point. They’re Bill’s go-to meetup spots. Though Dipper hasn’t really been the biggest fan, so far, he’s never been in any danger. That he knows of. Bill’s made sure of that.

Bringing Dipper to a dream that lacks his idea of 'pizazz', or gore, or immediately evident monsters is a new tactic - but at least it’s not a bad one.

It’s eerie, for sure. The silence beyond Bill’s yodeling adds an extra layer of ‘creepy’ - but the boat is nice, the company’s familiar. Even the water’s warm against the tips of his fingers, leaving clean, bright lines in the river -

Dipper yanks his arm back with a start, and he shakes the water off rapidly. Some of the red drops leave spots on his shirt and pants..

The broken surface of the water bleeds bright red. Like wounded flesh.

Dipper grimaces. He’d back up, but there’s no space in the gondola.

And - as a bonus - it looks like it’s attracting more glimpses of half-formed shadows. Of course. Dipper can only catch them out of the corners of his eye - dim, too-lanky shapes he never fully sees through the fog in the alleyways - but maybe it’s best to ignore those, too.

Still not a bad dream, necessarily. Things could be way worse.

But like everything to do with Bill, it’s unnerving. With a side of ‘constantly feeling you're being watched’.

“Ahem,” Said triangle clears a nonexistent throat. Bill thumps the stick on the bottom of the river, the one he’s been using to guide them along the city canals. “Hello! Listen up, sapling, I’m serenading here.”

Dipper shuffles around until he finds a shaky seat back in the gondola. Bill doesn’t bother. He doesn’t have to worry about balance, with his floating in midair thing.

“This is… interesting.” Dipper says. Bill brightens up, lower eyelid rising. So that’s a start - but he’s not sure how to follow it. He tucks his arms around his legs instead. “Why are we-”

“Vide stellas quae tremunt!” Bill continues his song without any notice of the question. Dipper tries waving at him, but he’s already closed his eye.. “Amoris et spei!”

No explanation, then. Dipper rolls his eyes.

God forbid Bill not have attention on him for ten seconds.

“I sense,” Bill says, tapping under his eye thoughtfully. “That you might not be appreciating this, kid.” Said eye rolls in its golden socket. “Why am I not surprised!”

At Dipper’s shrug, Bill grumbles something under his breath, and pushes the gondola along. Silent, for a moment.

Dipper shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Absent the music, this place is extremely eerie. There’s a light fog on the canals, and he doesn’t dare look into the alleys.

In a way, he understands why Bill’s like this. Needing company. Demanding attention. Being demanding is part and parcel of his demonic nature, and he was also stuck in a prison for thirty freakin’ years. That alone would make someone deranged.

Bill was just insane even before that.

Thankfully, irrepressible as always, Bill starts humming some other tune. Dipper’s glad he started again; he must be in a better mood. Bill’s huge eye narrows slightly in contemplation.

Then he lets out a low, self-satisfied cackle, and rubs two hands together. A third arm keeps steering the boat.

Dipper rolls his own eyes.

Yeah, this is definitely going to pan out like Bill expects. Because everything Bill’s done has worked out great for him.

Bill said he had plans for Dipper, but he’s taking his sweet time getting to them. It barely seems like there is one, most nights.

Whatever he’s after, it might work better if he focused on his goal.

Instead, he’s making Dipper focus on him.

Every time they’ve met up - and it’s been months - Bill’s clearly making some kind of effort. He’s hinted at a deeper truth, dozens of times. He taunts, and he talks, and even teaches on a whim. His methods are obscure and bizarre, they seem out of place - but Dipper gets the sense that Bill genuinely thinks it’s important.

He must really be distracted by his ego, because so far? His ‘plan’ doesn't seem all that sinister. It’s like he’s barely started it, or it’s genuinely not-terrible - which is why Dipper willingly joins Bill in his dreams.

Okay. That, plus a certain amount of sheer, idiotic curiosity. Dipper’s not perfect.

But he knows Bill’s trying to show him something.

Maybe if Dipper got it - whatever ‘it’ is - then he’d be able to thwart the plan. But until he finally gets it, or it comes to fruition or… Until something really evil happens, he guesses, then they’re just going to keep…

Meeting up? Hanging out? Dipper’s not sure which phrase fits right.

Judging by how it’s gone so far, that ‘until’ might be a while.

So long as Bill’s just reveling in attention, though - there’s no reason to stop him screwing himself over. Freedom seems like a big deal to him, and if the last few months are any indication? He’s been enjoying it immensely.

Feeding Bill’s ego a little can’t hurt, and it’s. Not bad, really.

Dipper just. Doesn’t have a lot of people to talk with who aren’t family, and Bill’s always up for a conversation. Even if it mostly devolves into bickering about stupid things, and Bill’s awful, awful jokes - Dipper’s finding he doesn’t mind that much. Bill’s quick-witted, weirdly charming for a person who’s a shape, and his magical knowledge has a depth that’s breathtaking. Even if it comes in an annoying golden package.

Whatever works, works, though. As long as Bill’s eager to hang out, then Dipper might as well indulge him.

After all, Bill could be up to worse things than bothering Dipper. And when it comes right down to it - he’s kind of fun. In an insane, demonic way.

Dipper’s still cautious. He’d be an idiot not to be.

But so far, Bill’s keeping his word.

Come to think of it, the plan must be one of the reasons Bill’s still here, in this dream. He’s making sure this isn’t a nightmare, while he tries to convey his… something. Possibly in a manner that won’t completely chase Dipper off. But if he can figure it out, before Bill manages to be super evil -

Dipper tucks his arms around himself tighter in the chill of the fog. He shakes his head to clear it.

This is novel, and interesting -

And very, very dangerous.

He’s got to stay wary. Reminding himself that Bill is absolutely insane.

“What, you chilly or something?” Bill sets fists on his angles. He was humming for a while, but now he looks curious. He even floats in a bit, while the stick keeps steering the gondola without a pilot. “This is what you get for having a crappy endothermic system.”

“Shut up.” Dipper tucks his legs together too. The temperature, if anything, seems to have dropped by a few more degrees. “Didn’t you make this dream? Can’t you control the-”

“Ahem. Unlike some amateurs, I know how to set the atmosphere.” Bill shuts his eye, somehow managing to look self-assured without a face. He wags a chiding finger at Dipper, floating close enough to flick his nose. “You wanna keep your empty nightmares on refrigerator settings. Fits the whole ‘eternally preserved’ theme.”

“And how does singing bad opera fit the ‘theme’?“ Dipper smacks Bill on the side. Dumb move, it only hurts his fingers - though Bill's not cold, like the air. It makes him pause. “...Hey. That wasn’t in Italian.”

“When in Rome, speak as the Romans do! And they were chatting in Latin before your forebears had forebears.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. “It's the source of Romance languages!”

A minor detail. One Bill’s using to avoid the question - and he only resorts to being a pedant when he’s caught.

Dipper narrows his eyes -

Then seizes the opportunity.

And the triangle.

As Bill thuds against Dipper's chest, he wraps his arms around him tight. Bill flails a bit, muttering something impossibly muffled against Dipper's chest. How does that happen, he doesn't even have a mouth. Dipper decides to ignore the impossible, yet again. Squeezing Bill a little harder, like he could crumple him like tinfoil. Knowing that he won't.

Man Bill’s warm; radiating off him like a personal, annoying space heater. Dipper can already feel the sensation returning to his fingers, gripped tight on Bill's edges.

And frowns. “Wait. I thought this was supposed to be nightmare Venice, not Rome.”

“Cripes, what a pedant.” Bill groans, the hypocrite. Dipper can’t see his eye - he’s rotated it around to face forward - but he’s sure he’s rolling it as well. He floats lower in Dipper’s lap, and one raised finger jabs the soft underside of Dipper’s jaw. “I bet you’re a real hit at parties. I couldn’t take you anywhere!”

Bullshit, Bill’s arrogant enough to take anyone anywhere, and be smug about it.

And if he’s trying to pretend he’s not in a good mood, maybe he should stop glowing so bright.

Dipper squeezes him a little tighter. Bill’s been caught, he can’t escape - and while he hasn’t totally settled down, he’s letting his legs dangle over Dipper’s and only kicked him once. It was barely a tap.

“I get it. You’ve never spent much time in Italy.” And Dipper smiles. This’ll get to him. “Bill Cipher claims to be the dream demon extraordinaire - but he never managed to bother a Pope.”

The sharp, indignant noise Bill makes is so, so sweet. Dipper jostles the top hat with his cheek, just to bug him more, and listens to the ensuing weird burble with a grin.

In the end, Dipper gets a thoroughly informative rant about the intricacies of both Italy and Rome and parts of an empire that he’s pretty sure never existed. Bill’s alight with indignance - and amusement. Possibly at his own bullshit.

Dipper really, really wishes he had a notebook with him.

Talking with Bill is always fascinating, and infuriating. Half of this has to be bullshit. Some of it might be true. Dipper… should really check out more history books. Maybe then he’d have more chances to call out Bill’s bullshit, with facts. For the moment, questioning him on every aspect pokes enough holes to help sort out the fiction.

It’s an easy conversation, and a long one. Bickering with Bill takes ages, makes Dipper struggle for words, he’s usually a little annoyed - and it’s oddly pleasant. In that Dipper doesn’t have to be pleasant. Or even nice. Bill absorbs it all with infinite confidence, and shoots back with pointed ripostes.

“-And that’s why garum was crappy, and ya shouldn’t miss it.” Bill finishes. He pats Dipper’s arm twice, and, reluctantly, is released. He floats up above the gondola as it drifts, slowly towards a dock. “But I think we’re getting off topic.”

“How? We-” Always argue, Dipper was about to say. That was before he stood up; now he’s thinking better of it. “Shit.”

He tries to balance as the gondola shakes; some of the blood-water laps over the sides. Crap, arguing with Bill is one thing, but he didn’t want to literally rock the boat.

Bill floats up further, watching the sloshing - and starts laughing.

Dipper glares, but the stupid tiny canoelike thing is shaking under him, he grips the sides. Since they’re next to the dock, he smacks a palm on it. It steadies things, barely.

“Pfft, loser.” Bill’s lower eyelid is raised in amusement. He watches Dipper struggle for another moment - then laughs harder, before holding out a hand. “C’mon already!”

Dipper takes the offer, absurdly grateful. Bill’s hand is very warm, like the rest of him.The black void of the not-flesh is a strange non-texture under his palm, steadying him before he falls. Dipper fumbles for a moment before holding onto it tight. Even though the boat is about to capsize, Bill’s got him.

Bill brightens up and squeezes his hand back. Not hard, surprisingly, maybe a little teasingly, and it makes something flip around inside Dipper’s chest.

Bill hauls Dipper bodily up onto the dock, with surprising strength and a cackling laugh. Dipper feels a quick slap just above his hip as he briefly stumbles.

Crap, that was fast. He almost backpedaled into the canal again from sheer surprise - but his grip on Bill means he only lent back for a moment.

Bill, the asshole, thinks it was amazingly funny. He’s leaning forward, another sixty degree angle in the air.

Dipper flips him off, heart racing fast. He wonders how Bill managed - but, right. He’s a demon, of course. Physics don’t matter. Those weird, noodlelike arms defy them on the daily.

One of said arms prods Dipper in the stomach. “Man, kid, talk about clumsy!” Bill’s still chuckling. His surface flickers with amusement, eyelid raised in a smile. “I shoulda let you go for a dunk!” Then a thoughtful rub under the single, narrowed eye. “Though I do like you less dissolved. At the moment.”

Dipper narrows his eyes. His valiant attempt to crush Bill’s hand in his own fails at the complete lack of bones inside.

Bill’s insane and weird and clever. He’s the strangest being Dipper’s ever met - but whatever his motives are? It’s - so far - been fine.

Dipper’s not dunked. Or dissolved. Hell, if anything, he should always be more terrified. With what Bill does. With what Bill is.

Best of all, that wasn’t a handshake. Even though Bill’s still holding on, it’s not in the right position for one. Interlaced fingers don’t count, he’s sure.

Dipper struggles at the touch, and gets his hand back, eventually. He wipes it on his pants, trying to shake off the thought.

It definitely wasn’t a shake, because they didn’t make a deal. If they had, Bill would be gloating about it. Dipper can put that single heartstopping moment behind him.

He’s still thinking about it as Bill leads him through the city. The conversation is mostly Bill rambling, their usual light bickering.

Dipper may be wandering around a nightmare, but with his palm flat on the warm surface of Bill’s back, at least he knows nothing else is going to freak him out. Bill would get huffy about not being the center of attention.

“So whatd’ya think of the main dream? Took the blueprint off a guy with agoraphobia.” Bill tugs one one of the passing door handles - which doesn’t move. When Dipper looks closer, it’s literally painted on. “No indoors, anywhere!”

“It’s kind of…” Dipper thinks about it. Nearly silent streets, cold and misty. Even if Bill wasn’t here, it’d be… “Empty.”

“Uh, duh, that’s the point.”

“No, I mean,” Dipper scrunches his face up, trying to think of - he isn’t much for horror movies, but exposure to Bill has shown him enough. “There’s no ominous signs of who was here, either. Like, I’d think there would be… half-eaten meals on the cafe tables, or, like.” He snaps his fingers, trying to think of remnants - “A single, empty child’s shoe.”

"Oh, very nice! I like how you think, sapling.” Bill taps Dipper’s temple, twice, before patting his cheek. Dipper leans away before he can pinch it. “Even if it’s not your thing, you always got something going on in that bonebox, don’tcha?”

Dipper just shrugs. He can’t not think. A dream demon liking what he does think is… morally questionable.

And, maybe, kind of neat.

“We don’t see enough of each other these days. A few hours at a time is nothing.” Bill continues, waving over the scenery. “Not that I’m not a fan of you letting me whisk ya off in your dreams - but what about reality?”

“Nope.” Dipper drops his arm, folding both of them over his chest. “Not happening.”

Freeing Bill was…. Arguably morally gray. Dipper doesn’t regret it, but Bill is an asshole, and Ford was convincing. The main advantage of Bill’s freedom came with their deal, Bill was in a terrible position to bargain.

The second best part is not having Bill on Earth anymore. He’s still dangerous, but not immediately so.

To reality. No so much for people hanging out with him.

“C’mon, kid. We’d have way more time together when you aren’t conked out!” Bill sidles closer. One thin arm wraps a couple times around Dipper’s waist, while the other waves broadly over the scenery. “A full Europe trip, just for two.” A brief pause. “Not that you’d get this kinda quality in your mundane version of that continent, but whatever.”

“If you say so.” Dipper hedges, that sound extremely subjective. Bill blinks at him with genuine surprise; it makes Dipper fidget for a second “I haven’t been out of Gravity Falls in-” Hell. When was the last time he went back to Piedmont. Or anywhere else. “...It’s been a while.”

Bill takes another second to stare. Then sighs. His enormous eye rolls around and around in its socket, in yet another exaggeration.

“Well, think about it, kid. One of these days, we’ll get to it. Me and you, on Earth!” Bill prods him firmly in the chest, eyelid raised in a smile. “We could take a long stroll through the streets, check out a couple cafes, crush a couple local governments- Then teleport over to a boulangerie for pastries! It’d be a great time!”

Insisting on reality. Again. Dipper holds back a sigh.

Letting Bill into the world - even with the compromises Dipper managed, is a horrible idea.

But right now Bill’s off in his own little world - literally, in a way - and that concept isn’t one he’s going to accept. Not the tactic to take to argue against it.

“I guess it’s a nice thought. Or fantasy, anyway.” Dipper pats Bill twice on the edge. “You’d stand out a little too much.”

Even Dipper needed a couple weeks before he got used to Bill. He’s a giant demonic triangle made of maybe-gold. Bill Cipher, in reality, would send pretty much everyone screaming, or reeling in horrified awe.

Probably, Bill would love that. Right up until it meant no cafe service.

“Yeah, yeah, most humans have no taste. Doesn’t mean it’d ruin the occasion!” Bill wags a chiding finger. His arm slips from its loop around Dipper so he can rest a fist on his edge. “What’d’ya think shapeshifting’s for?”

“For wha-” Dipper starts - then jerking back, as Bill’s form changes.

Dipper turns his head away, shielding his eyes against the bright light. And grimacing.

This demonic drama queen. The light isn't typical for his changes, he’s doing it for show. Whatever Bill’s turning into, he hopes this shape won’t have too many limbs, or infinite teeth - or worse, pick him up again -

Trying to smack Bill is always an option, though. Especially when he’s trying to be dramatic. Dipper lands the punch easily, operating on muscle memory -

Into something warm. And firm - but much softer than gold.

Bill starts chuckling. There’s a slow, rhythmic motion under Dipper’s knuckles.

Already, it’s far from the worst Dipper’s had to deal with. Bill’s not on fire, or scaled, and there’s no huge tongues licking out between his tiers. He’s not even slimy this time, though certainly more…. organic.

Dipper opens his mouth to tell Bill off, blinking rapidly -

“So! What’d’ya think, sapling?” Bill’s grin is wide and white and close. Too close, his sudden surge in makes Dipper lean back on instinct. “Ya like the look?”

Dipper stares.

“Eh?” Bill prompts again. Now he’s wiggling his eyebrows.When he doesn’t get a response - he sticks out a tongue - a pink, human tongue, Dipper watches it flick back in. “Where’s the insult?”

Right. New shape. Bill… wants feedback, something to stroke his immense ego. Dipper should….

Say something. Probably.

He looks again at that face. A human face. Bill’s standing there, intimidating; he has eyebrows and a nose and white teeth in a wide smile on this - Dipper looks down, then slowly up again - human form, leaning over him.

“Um,” Dipper says, eloquently. He does another once over, lacking for words, until he meets that single golden eye. And swallows, once. “...Hi.”

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” Bill continues. He adjusts the collar of his shirt, smoothing back his hair - then digging a finger into his fleshy cheek, and twisting it. “I think it’s a pretty accurate translation!”

Dipper nods. He opens his hand by fractions, until his palm rests flat on Bill’s chest, then thinks better and grips the shirt instead.

Okay. This. Is a new one.

Bill’s face - he has a face - is all angles, with a pleased, smug, too-wide grin. He thankfully still has only one eye, otherwise Dipper wouldn’t know where to stare - and he's very much up in Dipper’s personal space. Warmth still radiates off him, just like before.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bill says dryly. He grasps Dipper's side, just near his hip. His hand is bigger now, and - and Dipper shakes his head to clear it. “So! You and me, strolling through the city-”

Bill rambles on, per usual. The familiarity is steadying. Dipper squinches his eyes shut - then blinks, but nope. The scenery hasn’t changed.

This is. Normal. For Bill. Because this is Bill, showing off again. They can move on.

Will move on, because Bill’s looking like he wants to continue their walk. Dipper should. Follow him. That’s the right thing to do.

The first step is turning away. Easily done, if he stops gripping Bill’s shirt so tight. Forcing himself to loosen his hold works - but now he’s touching Bill’s chest again, and that isn’t great. Though it’s very solid, like Bill - because it is Bill, in a different shape, he needs to remember that. The shirt is soft, though when he strokes it. Maybe silk? Dipper -

Should stop touching it, what the hell.

Bill keeps rambling, arm warm against Dipper’s back. Dipper nods out of habit, stepping forward as Bill leads them on through the city.

Dipper forces his arms to his sides, holding them rigidly in place. He’s keeping them to himself. Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice anything odd about that.

Not that anything is, but. It might make things weird if he did think that.

Which means Dipper can relax, if only a bit. Demonic self-absorption has some benefits after all.

This is only another strange shape Bill’s taken. He’s turned into way weirder ones, for way longer - and for dumber reasons. Whatever prank he’s pulling is - Anyway, it’s only lasted maybe two minutes, it won’t be much longer. If that’s even how long it’s been.

Come to think of it, how long has Dipper been asleep? Dream time and real time never entirely track, and from this perspective they’ve been hanging out for a few hours. Longer than their typical meetup, since either Bill has ‘business’, or Dipper wakes up. Usually the latter. Eight hours real time is more like two or three in the dream realm -

…Which might be why Bill complained about it.

Bill keeps commenting on the city. Gesturing around. Possibly describing how conquerable it is, as he guides Dipper along on the midnight nightmare stroll,

Dipper isn’t sure what, exactly, the current topic is. He isn’t paying much attention.

He rubs at his forehead. He doesn’t feel much more centered, even with Bill’s arm around his waist again. Still warm, and somehow more solid. Certainly broader.

It also pulls him in and around, until he’s confronted - again - with Bill. His golden eye alight, looking him over skeptically.

“What, is this boring you?”

“I- what? No.” Dipper says. He nearly touches that chest again, and then the arm - but the biceps aren't any better. Technically speaking. He clenches his hands into fists, holding them to his own chest. “...Okay, maybe a little.”

Compared to some random nightmare city, recent developments are much more distracting.

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” Bill tuts, pulling Dipper in until their sides squish together; Dipper still doesn’t know where to put his hands, he tucks them over his stomach. “See, this is why we gotta get more hangout time!”

Bill’s other arm waves over the dream, and a space in it parts, folding up the rest of the scenery. Like opening a curtain, the city is shoved away to two sides, pleating like in a skirt.

The space opens into a void full of not-quite-stars.

Dipper leans in closer, and feels Bill’s arm tighten.

There’s a myriad of images floating in blackness. Things floating through space that’s not space, with a huge pyramid, black and ominous, somewhere in the distance.

The real heart of the nightmare realm Bill comes from, he’s seen glimpses before -

The one Ford told him never, ever, ever to take a single step into.

“You have a point, sapling. And I’ve had it with the tours of these run-of-the mill mental meanderings.” Bill never stops talking. He’s almost proud of it. “Now that I’ve cleared the squatters out, you should come crash at my place!”

Dipper yelps as he’s hauled up - damn it, he should have expected that - and braces himself on Bill’s shoulders. He nearly falls, Bill’s grip shifting, until he clamps his legs around Bill tight.

Not that he would fall - Bill wouldn’t let him - and he’s always been inhumanly, unfairly strong. The arm under his butt and the hand on his back would stop Dipper from escaping, even if he wanted to drop to the cold cobblestone ground.

“Cut it out.” Dipper kicks out from sheer indignance, anyway. Damn it, he knew he should have seen this coming - and Bill nearly stumbles to keep him in place. “What are you playing at?”

He’s done with this prank. With having to look at that face, with its. Everything. With Bill hauling him around like he’s a pet, damn it, he made that clear long ago, when Bill was still imprisoned.

Now he wants to bring him to the center of a mess of insanity and nightmares, what the hell is with that.

Maybe Bill can actually drive people insane. Because part of Dipper - the part that keeps saying ‘okay’ to their meetups has already started a horrible, insidious whisper.

Telling him everything else has been okay. Wondering if it would really be that bad.

“You clearly don’t care for the the terror atmosphere, kid. I’m fine with ditching it for the moment.” Bill jostles him in place, grinning wider at Dipper’s glare. “I got options! We can set up something else.”

“Like what.” Dipper says, flat.

“Look. Bribing you, Pine Tree? It's hard,” Bill says, with some chagrin.. “I’ve already given you power - not that you’re using it - and you got the pleasure of my company. You’ve even got some of the secrets of the universe on hand, but you keep dodging chances to hang!” His eye narrows. “What’re you really into?”

“I-” Dipper hesitates. Without a retort prepared, he’s not sure what to say.

“Name it and I’m there, kid. You did me a major favor, we’ve been walking out for a while - and I’ve been nothing but a gentleman when it comes to us.” He puts a strange emphasis on the word, one eyebrow raised. “What’s not to like?”

A lot of things, honestly. None of which Dipper can say.

Demon, for one. Dangerous, definitely. Insane, absolutely - and through all of that. Dipper has kept meeting up with Bill, even though he could use any of the dozen wards Ford has tried to foist upon him.

Bill’s hand is stroking his back, there’s an arm underneath him and it’s weird and -

God, Dipper wishes Bill wasn’t still in this shape, it’s throwing him off. For a prank, it’s weirdly well constructed, there’s no uncanny valley. Now his mind is racing

Actually, didn’t Bill say it was a translation?

Like. If Bill was a human, this would be how he looked. Still all angles, in a way. Unnaturally strong, oddly fascinating, and with amusement evident in the sharpness of his smile.

“Good! You’re thinking about it. Lemme know what’s cooking in there.” Bill’s grin is white and wild, a dangerous shape on his face. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

A smile that, now that Dipper looks at it, isn’t all that sharp. If he tugs the corner of the lips with his thumb, Bill makes a face, sticking out his tongue -

With a start, Dipper realizes he’s been staring at Bill’s mouth.

Bill snickers, but doesn’t respond. A slow smile, with his single eye half-lidded, and close enough that Dipper can feel the breath on his face. Dipper’s heart is going triple-time, and Bill’s very very close.

At some point Dipper wet his lips, involuntarily. He watches as Bill’s eye glimmers, then slowly shuts.

And -

The blare of the alarm cuts through things like a knife.

Dipper sits bolt upright in bed. Heart pounding.

For a full ten seconds, he flails at the sheets blindly, surprised - until he remembers where he is, and lets his arms drop.

He stares around his room with out seeing it. Still bleary, blinking slow.

What…?

Dipper sits there for another long moment. The sun isn’t even up, why did he set his alarm so early. He knows why he did it but. Now it seems ridiculous.

He wanted to make it less than eight hours. To make it cut off before Bill was expecting it.

Before either of them expected it, this time.

“Shit,” Dipper says.

He fumbles around for the cup on the bedside table. His mouth is dry, and he needs something to center himself, but he only manages to knock it over.

The memory of the dream - a lucid, very real event - is stuck in the forefront of his brain. Dipper can’t shake it. All of the Bill-dreams have been vivid, but this one is even more so.

He almost -

Dipper rolls over, sheets tangling around his legs, with the memory searing bright in the forefront of his mind.

Even when he pulls the cool pillow against his face, it doesn't help it feel any less hot.

That thing keeps running through his head, no matter what he does. The memory's too vivid to be anything less than real. How close he was. The warmth. How Bills eye fluttered shut, along with the vivid picture of his mouth, lips slightly parted.

He's never - but then Bill was -

Dipper hugs the pillow tighter, letting it absorb him in its comforting softness. Even the tips of his ears must be red by now.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He should have listened to Ford. He should have taken those warnings to heart.

He’s heard so many of them.

Don’t talk to demons. Don’t get involved with their magic, don’t make any deals, don’t interact at all except to eliminate them.

And do not, under any circumstances, speak too long to Bill Cipher.

Ford's smart. He knows how to handle almost every situation, and he's cautious enough to come up with almost every eventuality.

Dipper never had a warning against wanting to kiss an evil triangle. He swears a little more into the pillow, tense and frustrated.

God, he's an idiot.

Bill’s weird. He’s insane. He’s all about every aspect of twisting a mind into absurd shapes - hell, he is a shape. Not a human. Not good.

And not into anyone, as far as Dipper can tell. On the very rare moments the topic has come up, Bill’s been disparaging at best - and even if he was, it would still be a terrible idea.

Dipper pulls the pillow tighter around him. He thunks his head-and-pillow combo against the mattress, embarrassment writhing in his chest.

He’s going to get up in a moment. First, to make some coffee - a lot of coffee -

And second, to come up with his own plan.

Bill knows about everything, or at least he claims to. He definitely likes it when people are crazy, but odds are? He won’t appreciate this kind of madness.

But with any luck - and some careful work, on Dipper’s part -

Bill Cipher will never, ever know about this.

#Me: Oh hey I could write a quick little short for this idea!!#Also me: *staring at nearly 6k* _ :(´ཀ`」 ∠):_#I invite you all to imagine the following with me #First that Dipper is going 'shit shit shit' for a long while about this revelation #He hasn't taken any of the hints for a variety of reasons. Partly self-esteem but also the triangle thing. And Bill's ALWAYS obscure #Never directly talking is 'fun' up until it isn't #And second that Bill has been going #Why'd he have to wake up JUST THEN?? Talk about crappy timing #Just a demon holding his (He thinks) soon-to-be lover. Five centimeters from a smooch #Then *pop*! He's left holding empty air #Augh!! The twenty-seventh date was going so well! Makeouts almost happened!! Oh well I'll get em soon enough #Man I am such a great boyfriend Bill says to himself very smugly #The upside of this AU of an AU is that they both had time to get Squishy Feelings about each other instead of starting off with hate #The downside in a way is that now Dipper unlike before has PLENTY of time to overthink the hell out of this #Good luck Bill you'll need it to get him into bed. Now that he's not in the moment enough to spring for an impulse driven by hate-lust #It's gonna be a while until these losers officially get together but hey that's technically the same #Just in one instance the sex came first and in this one the feelings did #Mind you any 'ily' is a long way off; they're still settling in at this point. Give em time #answers #When will my ability to write short things return from the war *wraps shawl around self and stares distantly at the wine-dark sea*#Gonna give a thumbs up to pchelaus for the kick that motivated me to finish this

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quicksilversquared · 2 months

Text

My grading piles for my class have devolved into "perfect", "lost some points but done grading", "going to go stare into the abyss some more for these", and "this table is in SO much trouble", so, y'know, going great.

#teaching #had one table copy answers off each other word for word #their scores just got nuked #course coordinator was just like 'if it's word for word no points for that question' and I have low tolerance for cheaters so....#don't think that they'll do that again

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sneez · 1 year

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various fairfaxes and a drawing from my english civil wars hiking au which i never posted :-) [id under cut]

[image description:

the first image is a digital drawing of a group of men on a light brown background. they are all wearing hiking-appropriate clothing. from left to right: a young man swinging from a tree; arrows pointing at him read ‘weirdly passionate about hiking’ and ‘like 15′. a man leaning against a tree; arrows read ‘grumpy’ and ‘only here for family bonding with father-in-law’. a man with a cane and one arm in a sling, leaning over to read a map; arrows read ‘has injured himself on every hike so far’ and ‘designated driver’. a man reading a map with a serious expression; arrows read ‘annoyed about everything except hiking and sometimes also hiking’ and ‘only one who can read a map’. a man with his hands on his hips looking at the viewer; arrows read ‘arranges hikes and then doesn’t go on them’ and ‘good at arguing’.

the second image is a collection of four digital drawings of thomas fairfax, a man with long dark hair, a moustache, and a beard. he is wearing seventeenth-century clothing. one is a full-body coloured drawing of him sitting in a chair facing away from the viewer with his legs folded and his hat on his knee. the other three are uncoloured: two are headshots of him as a young man and an older man, and the third shows him sitting at a table reading a piece of paper with an expression of concentration.

the third image is a coloured digital portrait of thomas fairfax as an older man. he is clean-shaven and has long dark hair and a scar across his cheek. he is wearing a dark doublet and a large white falling band, and is looking to the left of the image with a serious expression.

end image description.]

#artwork #fairfax #and others! theres a bunch of blokes in the hiking one #basically the concept is it's the english civil wars but instead of having a civil war they are rival hiking groups. and they compete with #each other over hiking trails and such. i never drew the royalist group but i was imagining them to be the Official hiking club and the #parliamentarian one started because there was drama in the royalist club so they started their own #and now theres drama between both of them. hiking drama.#ANYWAY thats from last year i cant remember why i never posted it but here it is now :-)#the other ones are much newer (for the most part) i did the coloured sitting fax yesterday #the last one is based on a portrait i came across recently which may or may not depict fairfax in 1664 (the identification is questionable)#and i still havent made my mind up whether or not i think it could be him or not but i was So excited about finding such a late portrait #i knew i had to draw at least something inspired by it. i cant even tell you how i excited i was i almost exploded #for context the latest portrait we have otherwise is from 1650 so if it is actually him it is a Very Big Deal #but i dont think we will ever know because the identification has been rejected by the metropolitan museum of art :-/ alas #of course it could be raised again in the future but i dont know if anyone would care enough to do that. i would obviously. but otherwise #oh for the first one from left to right it's lambert ireton fairfax cromwell pym #i dont know if the writing will be legible given how much tumblr crunches images but We Will See #i hope you are all doing well my dear friends :-) it has been so nice to get around to answering messages today i have missed you terribly #edited to add image descriptions! sorry i didnt do that earlier my apologies

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ask-ursa-tonypeter · 4 months

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[fic: wicked love] Soooo, iirc, Peter does call Tony "Dad" in bed. Tony and Peter, if that's ok to ask, - how does that makes you feel? Does it make the situation more awkward? Does it hurt? Does it feel right? Is it a turn off or a turn on? And just generally i wonder if you've discussed this aspect of your relationship at all.

Peter: Oh-- we really didn’t talk about it? It’s just… he’s my dad. I don’t even think about it, really. It got to where it didn’t feel weird calling him ‘Tony’ when I was Spider-man, but that was… It felt different. He didn’t see me as his son then, and now he does. And I… I mean-- don’t take this the wrong way, but-- I like that he’s my dad? That part is important to me, too.

…But I don’t know. I do kind of… Things did feel different between us when I was Spider-man, and I kind of miss some of that? He cared about me, but he wasn’t... trying to take responsibility for me like he does as my dad. Maybe changing what I call him at home could help us get back to that, but-- I don’t know if that’s even possible, really…

Maybe I should ask him what he thinks about it.

-----

Tony: He calls me that because I’m his dad. There’s not really any point to trying to pretend it’s anything other than what it is.

#fic: wicked love #wicked love: peter #wicked love: tony #ursa interlude:#I had them answer this one separately because they wouldn't be honest in front of each other #tony as always still requires further explanation #he both prefers that peter call him dad and would be resistant to changing it for the reason he said here #because he would see it as an attempt to hide from the reality of the situation #I joked on another post that if they ever roleplayed peter meeting wild young tony he would be super into it and then feel bad about it #for that reason of... of course it feels nice to roleplay something less complicated than what they have #but then that's not “”“taking responsibility”“” for it #so there's that like. self-hating aspect to not wanting to change it but then emotionally he also! loves peter as his son!#that relationship is super important to him! he doesn't want their romance to overshadow or subvert their familial one!#even if it was just an in-bed thing he doesn't want to deny their father-son bond out of a genuine emotional attachment to it either #so obviously the conflict there is that they CAN'T have a genuinely equal romance while they're both clinging to the familial tie as well #but while peter can feel the strain he's too young to realize how significant it is #and tony kkkknows but doesn't think the relationship will last long enough to justify jettisoning their father-son dynamic in favor of it #woof. big question!!!

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hella1975 · 1 year

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hella idk what to send to you for aftg im either bored or annoyed and I don't wanna just say bad things about it 😭 like that's just rude and yall obviously like it I DONT WANNA BE SOME DEBBY DOWNER MDMWKEM

I looked at the anti aftg tag too to see if I could intermingle there and last I checked it was a mix of fans obsessed with the series and haters being just a tad harsh imo, so i couldn't even do that RIP. I'm so lonesome in what is maybe a whole group of people gaslighting me 😔👊

honestly ive said this before and i always have to tread a very fine line with it because this isn't me saying it's OKAY or like. promotable. but i do think to an extent that aftg's problematicness is actually an aspect of what draws people in a lot. like the characters and their reactions to things feel real for who they are, what they've been through and the environments they were raised in if that makes sense? and then you go in the anti-aftg tag and it's just again and again 'they said THIS thing and acted THIS way in response to THIS scenario and it was PROBLEMATIC' and like. yeah. outside of the internet bubble you're in people do actually do that. like that behaviour exists. it IS problematic, well done. you pointed at a wall and called it a wall. but like? in real life people - PARTICULARLY deprived, traumatised people that typically don't ever get therapy or community or someone telling them why something is bad - DO act this way. ive said half of my love for andrew is literally just because he took an awful backstory and let it make him a complete cunt and ive NEVER seen a character do it as shamelessly as him before. and yeah there's the argument for how it's never resolved in the book where nora ties it with a bow and points at the bad behaviour so the readers can go 'see, this is wrong' and we all clap, but idk it just for me feels that when people point at the aftg characters and go problematic! problematic! problematic! it's like they're missing the point a bit.

the point being? that we need to be putting WAY more heat on the author. i really dislike her and a lot of her writing choices and her insistance of using slurs that aren't hers to reclaim and just because it happened to make the characters feel just that bit more authentic i can still acknowledge that she CLEARLY wrote it without characterisation in mind and just added all that problematic shit anyway. like i never get why there's so little focus on nora's writing decisions and thousands of posts just fucking CRUCIFYING the characters themselves and 'let's explain in detail why this behaviour is Morally Reprehensible and they should be Locked Up Forever'. like if u want to focus on the characters so bad and pretend they're the sole reason why aftg is Problematic and Bad then why is it so hard to acknowledge that someone raised the way they were might have some misinformed, ignorant beliefs. idk lol

#but i do also think im prone to viewing these characters as TOO real and i understand there's a line to be drawn between media and reality #like at what point does 'life imitates art' become just a genuinely shit piece of media #and at the end of the day im fully aware which end of the spectrum aftg is on LMAO but this is my 2 cents #like ive met so many people that have said absolutely heinous things that the internet would eat them alive for #like homophobic sexist shit you name it they've said it and it IS problematic and uncomfortable to listen to #but i also know that while teenagers online that would call them problematic were busy claiming some new fucking buzz word to throw around #those people were actively just fucking trying to survive. like they weren't learning about why misogyny is bad #because they were fucking addicted to drugs or living through poverty or some shit like they had BIGGER PROBLEMS #like not everyone got the education or life experiences you got and while it's valid to assume someone saying horrible things #is horrible themselves there's also the times it's just genuinely a misinformed ignorant person #like they'll say 'problematic' things and i'll point out why it's bad and they'll literally go 'oh i never thought of that.' that's it!!!#like i have this childhood friend whose life has been an absolute circus start to finish like COMPLETE instability i wont even get into it #low and behold she had NO ONE educating her about things and one time i had to explain to her why having abortion rights was important #bc she just out of nowhere said she was against abortions. and i initially was outraged and disappointed that this came from her #but i didn't patronise her or shout i just explained my angle on why i think they're good and she was on side immediately #cause she always had bigger problems than researching ethics and no one to guide her so she just absorbed the first opinion she came across #and in a small town from a working class family that opinion is typically not the nice woke answer the internet demands #and with aftg particularly andrew bc he's the one who gets a lot of slack for being violent and generally unreasonable #you have someone who has literally not had someone treat him kindly a single time in his life and each new person is a genuine safety threa #like the average person just does not have to deal with that! ofc they have more time to decide their political and moral compass!#and that's so relevant to real life! popularity for the monarchy is highest amongst the working class! the people voted for brexit! trump!#the lower classes and marginalised simply do not have the resources that higher classes do #and someone fighting for survival is not going to be reading twitter threads on cancel culture in their spare time #so many issues in the world can be eased so much quicker by kindness and patient non-patronising education #than just. pointing and calling 'problematic' at anything remotely uncomfortable #idk where this came from its 2am i should go to bed and instead im ranting not even about aftg anmore this is completely it's own thing now #i feel like i worded this badly too im gonna wake up to anons in the morning accusing me of like. condoning spiking #also gloomy i am SO sorry you are the true victim of this i went ENTIRELY off piste on this one please ignore this 😭#ask

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