#though that’s not really a main thought
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just saw the price drama this morning + simon 'never felt the warm touch of a woman' riley and just had a thought👊
reader is ofc hesitant, but doesn't feel too threatened because as intimidating as he appears to be, he's just so—him. a bit better than price.
to me after reading it, he seems like the acts of service kinda guy or actions instead of words🤷🏽♀️
probably the latter.
in the end I feel like she'd just see him as this clingy overgrown touchy puppy.
like like, he just grabs her for another bath in the river and she goes "are we gonna bath again?" no response "ah, we are"
DNJSHSJA
simon takes REALLY good care of her, after all, she's a gift to him from the gods, right?
god I just want him 😡 let me nurture him and take care of him (he could literally kill me with his bare hands)
c/w: none really, mentions of groping, scars
he’ll never admit it, but he was terribly lonely before he found you. the main reason he’s so quiet is not because of the years of torture and trauma that he endured (well, partly) but because he just never had a reason to speak. who would he be speaking to?
sometimes he hurts you, never on purpose and never seriously. he’s just a big man who forgets his own strength so please don’t hold it against him. he doesn’t know how to ask you to do things so he just manhandles you into it instead
and when I said he’s never felt the warm touch of a woman, I meant it. it isn’t even necessarily sexual when he grabs your breasts at night, you’re just so warm and soft so he wants to touch you :( please let him
you can touch him too, if you want to. he won’t stop you when you trace the litany of scars scattered over his body. until your fingers dance a bit too close to a large jagged one on his ribcage, then he just tightly grips your wrist and moves your hand back to his chest
he makes you feel safe. hugging you tighter to his chest when he feels you trembling to the sounds of wolves howling near his hut. even though you haven’t known him long, you’re strangely aware that this big brute won’t let any harm come to you
#mw2#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#viking!simon
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JJ and reader sneak away on the island of Poguelandia to get some… “alone time” iykwim
when obx3 first came out this was like my main scenario to sleep lol.. i love u nonnie
all the pogues sit around the makeshift fire, faces illuminated and cheeks blushed from the heat, listening to cleo’s bizarre stories from before she fell in with all of you, but you’re not really listening.
you adjust yourself on the log you’d used for seating, digging your toes into the sun warmed sand as you eyes jj across the flames, he was focused on cooking whatever he’d caught that day, the only thing you were focused on was the way his biceps flexed, deep blues occasionally flitting over and meeting your own eyes before correcting himself when he realised he’d been caught, smirk playing on his lips.
you’d had this arrangement far before this misfortune, stranded on an abandoned island in the middle of nowhere. you’d sit on his work bench, watching him fix up his bike, popsicle slotted between your lips as you watched him. before he’d had enough for your teasing and bent you over the warm metal, denim shorts pulled down to your knees as he pounded into you.
but something had changed ever since you landed on the island, he was so much softer, kinder, a lot less demanding when he’d fuck you. he really took his time with you when he could, he’d make you feel so good, it didn’t happen as much as it used to back home, so you’d learned to appreciate it a lot more when it did.
you clinged onto his tan shoulders, outgrown fingernails digging into the muscle as he finger fucked you behind a tree, the squelch of your wet cunt the only sound heard as he clamped a ringed hand over your mouth, willing you to be quiet with praise as he hit that spot over and over again. his jaw clenched as he kept half on eye on pope and cleo not too far away collecting fruits for your breakfast, fixing you up and giving you a quick peck before sending you off back to the group, strolling back a few after you like nothing had happened.
that was last week, and he hadn’t even touched you since. to say you were desperate was an understatement. sure, the island was desolate but that didn’t mean it was big, and sneaking away to fuck yourself and risk getting caught wasn’t something you wanted to do. so you thought eye fucking was enough of a hint for him, spoiler, it wasn’t.
he kept you on the edge of your seat all night, he knew what he was doing and he loved the power. concealing his grin when he caught you discretely rub your thighs together whenever you’d look a him.
you got what you wanted soon enough, when everyone was pretty much knocked out on their makeshift leaf mattresses, stepping over john b cautiously as you made your way up the sandy bank where you knew he would be.
you were finally at peace when he had you splayed out against a large tree, legs spread around his his head, his matted blonde tresses tickling your inner thighs as he devoured you like a starved man. his cocky persona dropped as he practically begged for you, even though he already had you in your head.
“wanted to taste this fuckin’ pussy all day.” he mutters, tongue dipping into your clenching hole as he brings two fingers up to steadily rub at your clit, your back arching beautifully against the rough bark of the tree, hand forcefully gripping his hair and keeping him right where you wanted him.
“strutting around in that little top, you dunno’ what you do to me, infront of all our fuckin’ friends.” he admits, skilled fingers punching your g-spot, a loud moan leaving your lips as your climax approached, immediately recoiling back into yourself as the sound echoes over the extensive ocean surrounding you, hoping your friends didn’t hear.
jj sensed your sudden shyness and tapped your thigh, one hand shaking up to grasp at your boob, calloused thumb teasing your nipple as he circles your throbbing but with his tongue. “nah- let it all out, wanna hear how good i make you feel.”
“yeah- gooooood girl. you got it.”
#jj maybank blurbs#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank blurb#outer banks#jj x reader#jj maybank headcanon#obx#jj maybank obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank fluff
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Cult Part 5!
Here's One, Two, Three, and Four if ya missed 'em.
“Whatever he’s up to,“ Dipper leans forward in his seat, glaring. “It’s not what you think it is.”
His warning goes unheeded. His glare, unnoticed. The man not only keeps talking to Bill, he does it in the stupidest way possible.
“I don’t believe you, vile tempter,” says the dark-haired man, folding his arms, turning away in a huff. His hips tilt in a way that makes those tiny shorts look ten times stupider than they already were. “Your infinite cunning and dire convincing cannot sway a human pure of heart!”
“Oh, how pure it is.” ‘Bill’ says slowly, capturing the man around the shoulders. “But think about it, mortal - What’s the worst that could happen?”
Some of the pouty defiance fades from the human’s face. His slow, dramatic turn towards Bill is focused in a close shot, so their faces are both in frame.
“Alright,” He says softly, “You bastard.”
Ugh, of course he’d give in easily. Even though it’s a terrible idea.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Dipper mutters, and stuffs another handful of popcorn in his mouth.
He’s seen his fair share of bad television - more so in the last week than ever before - but this bullshit really takes the cake.
Dipper stumbled on this drama while flipping through the billion options of Bill’s TV. Somewhere in the middle of random shows and channels, a brief clip caught his eye. Mostly because he thought the main guy looked like Bill, and it paused his thumb for a second.
Turns out it is Bill. Or rather, an actor playing him. The looks don’t quite match, and they’re using a different name - but the likeness is unmistakable, right down to the triangle motif.
For the first five minutes, Dipper had to just boggle at the very concept. Only the most devoted followers know the Truth. The clever plans and private nature of Bill Cipher are solely for those who are initiated in the deepest secrets. Ones that the ignorant masses could never comprehend.
A hundred-some odd episode tv series blows that theory out of the water. He guesses that’s more bullshit he learned from a bunch of ignorant, sheltered jerks.
Honestly, meeting Bill should have clued Dipper in earlier. A guy who talks about himself that much isn’t going to keep a low profile. Seeing it on Bill’s own TV was also weird until he remembered, right. Multidimensional sight. That’d show him things from all over. And pulling all the episodes on a dedicated channel in his living room? That’s an egomaniac’s move.
So of course Dipper would run into this. There was no better place.
The next episode starts. The opening credits roll for the dozenth time. Dipper doesn’t move from his position on the couch, but he does roll his eyes at the stupid smile actor Bill gives at the camera. Completely off-base, it’d be way more smug.
He should really stop watching. The first episode alone nearly had him grimacing at how idolatrous it was, and Dipper lived in a cult. Problem is, the worse it gets, the more compelling it becomes.
Then the theme song ends, and Dipper looks again down at the tiny text at the bottom. The one that reads, ‘based on real events!!!’.
Sure, it’s the most highly dramatized bullshit he’s ever had the misfortune of watching. Including the soap operas his cult classmate smuggled in all the time. And yes, it’ll be difficult to tell how much is true when it’s less reliable than an overheard rumor.
But it might give him some leads to go on, and Dipper can’t pass that up.
Suffering through shitty dialogue is a small price to pay, when it comes to unraveling the tangled thread that is Bill Cipher. Especially because his subject keeps trying to wrap up into a whole friggin’ gordian knot whenever he’s not looking.
Besides, Dipper’s already on episode twenty-seven. He might as well see how this season ends.
The plot picks up on the same convoluted scheme. Judging by last season, it’ll end in some climactic battle for no particular reason. The characters on screen continue their bickering, an intense-back and forth. One that ignores the very insightful commentary from anyone watching.
Halfway through, ‘Bill’ double- or perhaps triple-crosses his human rival/friend, and Dipper spends a few seconds to feel very I-told-you so about it. The plot thread isn’t resolved though, so there’s no way to know how that turns out without watching another episode.
And Dipper’s bowl of popcorn is empty.
He contemplates the dish first, then the TV. Whether to get up and refresh snacks, or stick around to see how ‘Bill’ ruins that guy’s day for the seventh time. A tough decision.
He’s just about decided to raid the kitchen for snacks, when the front door ominously creaks open.
Bill Cipher, Lord of Dreams, King of the Nightmare Realm, storms into the room with irritation in his terrible gaze, and furious purpose in his stride. He wears a scowl on his face that would make even the most apostate follower cower in terror, a demeanor that speaks of his infinite violence. The thrum of magic in the room builds, intense as it always is in his so-called glorious presence.
As that single golden eye alights on Dipper, he waves and says, “Hi.”
All the tension slides off Bill like a particularly messy sloughing of skin. “Hey yourself, sapling!” He waves back with more enthusiasm. “Been one heck of a day, lemme tell ya that.”
It sounds lighthearted. A pretty decent act. Tough luck for Bill, though; Dipper can read him pretty well by now. A check of Bill’s body language gives him all the info he needs.
Huh. There haven’t been many bad days since he’s met this ‘god’. But by the look of it, this one was more than most.
“That bad?” Dipper asks. Then, since he’s not doing much anyway - “Wanna complain about it?”
A blasphemous question. No follower should delve too deep, for that is the purview of divine revelation. The wisdom of Cipher - his most terrible secrets - are only revealed at his discretion. Not something to be pried at by the greedy and curious.
Dipper still marvels at how wrong they got all of it. Total misses on absolutely everything. Bill’s got secrets, sure. ‘Wisdom’ is questionable.
And when it comes to learning about his life, prying is unnecessary.
Stopping him from talking is the hard part.
“Don’t even get me started!” Bill says, clearly delighted.. He spreads his arms wide. “But you did! Too late to take it back now.”
“Mmh,” Dipper agrees. He’s got another episode queued up. That’ll be a nice distraction. Bill’s rambling can be interesting, but his complaints are longwinded. When you think about it, he’s really doing this ‘god’ a service by listening to all the bullshit.
He really doesn’t know what his old cult was talking about. Clearly they’d never met the guy. When this is how Bill talks to some random human, it’s amazing he has any secrets at all.
He waits for the oncoming onslaught as the show keeps playing on. The theme song finishes and the scene opens. There’s a new location, too - god, this better not be another timeskip. Demons might keep track of that stuff easily, but Dipper’s had to start taking notes.
It takes a second before he notices Bill’s… actually not talking.
A quick glance over - yep, just like he thought. Staring like a creep again. One of Bill’s favorite pastimes. This time paired with a pleased smile, and his hands on his hips.
“What’s up?” Dipper asks. There’s no rhyme or reason to the creeping so far - but he’ll figure out the pattern one day.
“Hm.” Bill gives him a slow onceover. The corner of his mouth quirks up another fraction. “Nice outfit.”
A quick check reveals… Nothing particularly interesting. His clothes are identical to, like, the same three outfits he always wears. Jeans and a t-shirt - though today he ditched the flannel for this big hoodie he found in his laundry. It’s remarkably soft. “Uh. Thanks?”
Bill says nothing. The smirk grows even wider.
Very suspicious. Dipper narrows his eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Who knows?” Bill says, teeth showing in his smile. “Interesting outer layer you got going on there.”
Dipper checks the hoodie. No, he doesn’t sense any magic. If there were pins he would have felt them, and a curse would have kicked in by now. It’s just a random hoodie that’s admittedly too broad in the shoulders, but very comfortable. It even smells good.
He waits a few seconds - Bill keeps staring, oddly smug - but with no information forthcoming, Dipper decides to chalk it up as another ‘weird demon thing’. There’s a lot of weird demon things. Most aren’t as innocuous as random fashion critique, so he might as well let this slide.
“Cute as that look is, you did ask for the rundown, sapling.” Bill loosens his bowtie, letting the ends drape over his shirt. “You know what my least favorite part of today was?”
“Dealing with idiots.” Dipper replies. It’s always idiots. He rifles through popcorn kernels to find any remaining puffs.
“Sure, sure. Most times!” Bill strides over, sighing dramatically. “But today it was dealing with sycophants.”
Dipper runs that through his mental dictionary - then frowns. “They weren’t flattering enough?”
“Close!” With a grin, Bill leans on the arm of the couch. “More like praise comes in a lotta different flavors, and this one -” He stops mid-sentence, with a sudden frown.
Pausing? That’s unusual. Dipper rips his attention away from the show, glancing up. “This one was…?”
“Hm? Oh, y’know.” Oddly enough, it seems like Bill genuinely wasn’t deflecting. Simply thinking, his head slightly tilted. He snaps his fingers twice. “Like, suckups are one thing. Currying favor’s the most common grift in the universe! It’s the… That kinda saccharine crap that’s a hair too sincere. Like…” He wags his hand in the air, fingers wiggling as he tries to grasp for an invisible word. Grimacing when he doesn’t find it. “Ugh. English doesn’t have the right vocab.”
A multilingual master of the mind probably does feel limited by speech. And every day, Dipper learns something new.
Demons have a different culture. Human customs don’t apply. Learning it has been a whole process, more arduous than he’d expected - because it’s got an entirely new language, with a million new words.
Apparently said language has a lot of terms for ‘suckup’.
Dipper rummages around for an English word that might fit. “So it was… Creepy?”
“Close!” Bill agrees, looking pleased. “Little bit obsessive. A touch like they’re up to something.” He makes a face. “Or worse, they’re not! Even when every non-braindead being should know I’m not on the market.”
“The market for…?”
“Most everything,” Bill says, with his usual amount of detail.
“I would have thought you get that a lot.” Dipper frowns. Power, money, fame - Bill’s got it all. As the biggest shark around, he should be used to remoras.
“Totally! Everybody wants what I got, sapling. Power especially.” The couch barely bounces when Bill plops himself beside Dipper. “But just ‘cause I have it in spades doesn’t mean I’m handing it out like eyeballs at a wedding.”
“Um.” Except he kind of is. Because. If he wasn’t, then why has Dipper’s magic been so strong recently. There’s no way that’s a coincidence -
Bill leans in closer, meeting his gaze directly. One eyebrow slowly lifts.
Dipper ducks his head, scooting an inch away. Bill hasn’t said anything. He didn’t need to.
Special.
Suddenly it’s very important that Dipper fiddle with the unpopped kernels in the bottom of his popcorn bowl. He was going to get more snacks. Right. Kitchen’s not far from here.
Before he can rise, Bill snaps his fingers and the bowl refills. Overflows, even, scattering kernels everywhere. Then he shoves his hand in up to the wrist, sending more of it flying.
“So that’s the losers I gotta deal with. Every day with these idiots! And I’m supposed to meet up with a few of ‘em later. If we weren’t talking an old favor, I’d pass,” Bill says. He slumps back, with an uncharacteristic sigh. Then shrugs, kicking his feet up onto a previously nonexistent ottoman. “But hey! There’s always time for a vicious betrayal!”
Dipper makes a soft sound of commiseration. That’s an interesting fact, too. Favors, deals. Those are demonic things, He wonders what those involve, and how -
“Ha! Now this is a classic,” Bill says, interrupting before the question can form. He’s watching the TV now, grinning wide. “How’ve you been liking the show? Looks like the main character’s a real handsome guy!”
“It’s terrible,” Dipper says, flat. It gets a chuckle, but no argument.
“Sure, I’ve seen better,” Bill says, nose wrinkling up at a particularly dramatic line from the actor on screen. He flips the TV off, then shrugs. “But eh,” Hand waggling, an ‘iffy’ gesture. “When you got a billion-eye view of the multiverse, you see way dumber crap than this.”
Fair point. Dipper shrugs, but doesn’t comment. Something to think about, there. That Bill’s seen this before, for one, but also-
“How much of this is true?” He asks.
If this demonically produced drama is even slightly accurate, Bill will have a strong opinion. Once he starts talking, everything will reveal itself.
“Great question! I’d say…” Bill pauses to stroke his chin. Aiming for ‘solemn’, but mostly reminding Dipper that the jerk never needs to shave. “What does it matter if a narrative is factual or fictional? Everyone’s got their own version of how things go down! Truth’s a sucker’s game when you really think about-”
An elbow to the ribs doesn’t quite shut Bill up. Just gives him enough pause to let Dipper interject.
“Philosophy doesn’t suit you.” He nudges him again before he can derail the topic. Bill sticks out his tongue, and for a second Dipper’s tempted to poke it in revenge for before. “I’ll settle for which parts actually happened.”
“Spoilsport,” Bill says, sounding oddly warm. “Eh, they took a lot of artistic license in this series. And that’s coming from me.” Shrugging, he makes a so-so- sort of gesture, weighing it in his palms. “Call it less than you’d like, but more than you’d think.”
Dipper glances at the screen.
The battle at the end of the episode is a poorly-cut fight. Bill, human-formed, faces off against seven gorgons. Which is bullshit, they’re territorial - and the shoggoth at sunset brings it almost to the level of parody. The human of this episode has fainted in a way that leaves him leaning against Bill without somehow falling on his ass.
Yeah. That about tracks. Demon to human translation: ‘Artistic license’ means ‘total bullshit’.
Almost on cue, Dipper feels fingers brushing against his hoodie. There’s a shift as Bill adjusts his seat, his arm unsubtly snaking over behind Dipper’s head.
Any minute now that ominous limb will drop onto his shoulders. Just like the last half dozen times. God forbid Bill not take up all the room he can; he thinks everything is his. Even gorgons aren’t this territorial.
Dipper can live with it. Hell, if the worst thing Bill ever does to him is invade his personal space and talk over an already bad TV show, he’s basically set for life.
And truthfully, it’s not that bad. Less irritating than it should be. Having someone close, even if they are an obnoxious evil demon god, feels nice.
One day he’s going to know why he’s being bothered by Bill in the first place. What made him stand out among the rest. What he’s for. The question doesn’t upset him like it used to, but he can’t help but pick at it like a still-healing scab.
It feels like he has a decent amount of facts already. Between the journal in the guest room, watching the highly dramatized version of Bill’s life, and talking to the demon himself…
Dipper glances over at Bill - still focused on the show, crunching popcorn - then down at the long line of his wrist.
Even Bill’s providing clues, in his own, unique way. When he arguably shouldn’t.
It would be so, so easy for him to cut it all off. Burn the books, break the TV, cage Dipper up and beat the curiosity out of him. Taking every step the cult did and more, in his ‘wrath’ and ‘infinite cruelty’.
But he’s not. He wouldn’t, not to Dipper.
In fact, Bill’s been - in a weird, exclusively Bill-ish way - kind of helpful. Hell, he’s having a great time.
He clearly delights in watching Dipper scramble around, trying to follow a breadcrumb trail of hints. Even more fun is occasionally dropping a bunch of clues down the wrong track, then hiding behind a tree to giggle. He especially likes to dangle something just close enough to grab, then teasing Dipper as he tries to make the leap.
So much of his time is spent making stuff annoying, teasing and taunting and tricking - but Bill’s not actually stopping him. As hobbies go, it’s both incredibly dickish, and totally benign. It’s almost like…
Dipper gets the sense that Bill expects him to figure it all out. Bill just also thinks he should make the journey very… ‘interesting’.
Joke’s on him, though. He’s left more hints than he intended. He may not even realize how far Dipper’s come.
The show plays on. The actor ‘Bill’ argues with the latest, nearly-identical human guy. They change actors a lot; usually whenever there’s a timeskip. They always have exactly the same role, too - ‘guy who argues with the demon in charge’. Probably because demons consider all humans interchangeable.
There’s some interaction between the various planes. Everyone knows that. Demons are pretty rare on the list, but lower-level entities occasionally get summoned, or break in through some magical mishap.
Back in the cult, Dipper learned that Bill Cipher has bothered and convinced and manipulated mortals for eons. His unearthly machinations twist the strings of his human puppets, all the time. Slowly building to the inevitable goal - the world, under Bill’s eternal thumb. He never interacts directly; the physical plane is not yet his to roam.
But in the drama, Bill is on the physical plane. Not acting through haunting prophetic dreams, or divine revelations. Just bitching and prodding and poking in person.
And while the setting’s fictionalized version of the place, it’s definitely not under any demonic reign.
The implications took a while to sink in, but Dipper thinks he gets it now. Parts have clicked together; facts he didn’t know were connected until just now.
Bill probably doesn’t realize it, but he’s helped there too. Filling in the gaps. Adding extra detail.
He’s even doing it right now.
The unasked for commentary track continues as Bill talks. Going on about how he hasn’t been to that country in millenia, or how the seasons are wrong for this encounter. Elaborating on details, mocking others, going on about the stupid plotline and dialogue -
Totally bragging about his earthly knowledge. About the physical world. Because he’s been there.
Dipper sits up a little straighter. It bumps the hand trailing through his hair away, and he settles back to let Bill’s idiot fingers continue their idle path.
He can’t be totally certain without proof, though. And Bill has always liked it when he’s picked up the clues…
Dipper speaks up.
“I think more of this is real than you’d admit, Bill. You’ve…” Didn’t laud himself over them, no divine visitation- “Hung out with humans.”
“Hard not to! What with billions of you dreaming all over the place.” Bill says, deftly avoiding the question. Staring at the screen now, focused forward in a way that makes it hard to catch his eye. “You’re everywhere on that scummy pebble you call a habitable planet.”
No confirmation, but no denial. Which means Dipper’s on the right track.
“I mean you’ve been on Earth. In the, uh, flesh,“ Dipper insists. No triangles were visible, maybe that form can’t be sustained in reality - but this is no time to get derailed. He seizes the thread of logic, yanking on it with all he’s got. “Was-”
“Pfft, who hasn’t!” Bill interrupts. He flicks the question away, snorting in amusement. “Pretty permeable place you got there.”
“That’s at least two hundred years of human interaction,” Dipper insists. He jabs his index finger at the screen, then into Bill’s ribs. “And I can’t help but notice none of it is in your realm. It’s on Earth. Which you haven’t conquered-” Before Bill’s mouth can open, he holds up a hand. The lie is so dumb he doesn’t wanna hear it. “Nice try, I was just there.”
“Yeah, yeah, make a mountain out of a molehill.” Bill buffs his nails on his shirt, chin lifting. “I’ve just been busy! I’ll get around to it!”
“Sure you will,” Dipper says. He narrows his eyes. “I’ve figured you out, Cipher. I know what’s going on.”
Plausible deniability went out the window ages ago, thrown with such force that glass shattered everywhere. Leaving Bill standing in the middle, wondering aloud what happened, with a perfectly innocent look on his face..
It’s about humans. About earth, and Bill, and Dipper himself. Why Bill never showed up before, in all those years - decades - of cult summons, the ones he never ever answered, even though they really tried. Not just that he didn’t see them, or didn’t care to.
It’s because Bill Cipher can’t do everything.
Bill’s been evasive, per his usual. He’s not quite meeting Dipper’s gaze, and keeping up a dismissive tone.
But he can’t deny that he’s interested, even though he tries to keep his expression aloof. It’s not working so great. His mouth keeps twitching as the grin starts to leak out around the edges.
“Oh?” Bill’s voice has a strange tone. He leans in until their thighs touch, sides together; he must be really interested in something. “Go on, sapling. Enlighten me!”
That’s the core of a line of truth, leading somewhere important - if Dipper dares to follow. He’s getting close, he can feel it. It’s dangerous, but-
Getting the words out is harder than he thought. Challenging Cipher is - he starts talking before he can talk himself out of it.
“You can’t take over reality.” He keeps his voice level, daring Bill to interrupt. “You don’t have all your powers there.”
A pause; Bill’s oddly silent. His face is blank.
Before he can get angry, Dipper rambles out the rest. “Or at least not yet. You’d have taken over already if you did. I mean, it’s not like you didn’t have time. You can’t get the world because…” Here it goes - “Something’s stopping you."
He watches, tense, as Bill’s expression sours. Looking askance at Dipper, he folds his arms in a huff. Muttering something under his breath about ‘stubborn’ and ‘annoying’.
But Bill doesn’t deny it.
God, and even the look on his face. The one that’s both annoyed but also, maybe, resigned? Like it’s an old, old roadblock that he’s both huffy about, and very used to, it’s…
Holy shit. Dipper’s right.
His heart is racing. Merely guessing that Bill can’t accomplish his main driving purpose is a far cry from him saying it, or even not arguing with it. The very thought makes his head swim.
But he can’t stop now, not while he’s ahead.
“So there’s some obstacle even you can’t get rid of,” Dipper says. Looking at Bill out of the corner of his eye, he pitches his voice in a tone of reverent, religious awe. “I can’t even imagine how powerful that is. How incredibly-”
“Hey! Don’t get so full of yourself, Pine Tree, it’s just not the right time yet!” Bill sits up straight, indignant. He bares his teeth in a sneer. “Maybe there’s something I still want from that miserable little rock, you ever think of that?”
Another admission. An unforced error. Bill winces very slightly as he hears his own misstep, and Dipper swells with pride.
Bill thinks he’s all high and mighty and oh-so-secretive. A master of mysteries. If only he didn’t talk way too much. He didn’t think Dipper was clever enough to trick him and he gave everything away.
“That’s it. That’s why- why everything.” Dipper beams as he waves over, well, everything. “You keep going back there, and you keep picking a human, wandering around with some random guy - because you can’t get what you want without one.”
Not a cult, building power. Not a massive ritual spell. Nothing grand and showy; Bill would have done that if it was effective. That’s way more his style, and far more magically powerful.
There’s been none of that. Not in the show, not in real life. He hasn’t used the cult, he doesn’t have a base of power. Bill doesn’t peddle with groups, both in the real-life cult and the cannon fodder in the show.
He’s only focused on one person.
Out of billions of people he could bother, Bill latches onto a single, unfortunate guy and throws their life into total chaos. It’s a curse, an annoyance, a bolt of bullshit out of nowhere - and would also ensure you don’t bleed out until he’s had his ‘fun’.
Being picked out from the crowd like that. Having the full brunt of Bill Cipher himself foisted upon you, laser-focused. Going from a nobody to someone who has all his attention -
Wouldn’t that make someone kind of special?
No response, again. Bill has retreated to his last, mocking resort. Flapping his hand like a puppet as Dipper talks, and making faces.
Yes. Finally, Dipper got him. He followed the breadcrumbs, avoided the trap, set up one of his own - and Bill walked right into it.
Dipper gives him the smuggest, most annoying smile he can. He’s got plenty of examples to draw from.
Bill glares, and flips him off. “Sure, sure, live it up,” He says, rolling his eye dramatically. Waving off the loss like it’s no big deal, even though it clearly is. “You don’t have a clue what’s really going on.”
A blatant lie. Hardly his best one, either.
Dipper lets himself enjoy this win for a full minute. Rare chances like this should be savored. He has to hold onto the couch so he doesn’t grab Bill’s dumb handsome face and shake it, for being so very, very stupid. He’s never going to let him live this down
“So. Why do you need a mortal?” Dipper asks after a while. Bill isn’t volunteering any more information, and there’s one more part he hasn’t quite figured out. “The thing you’re after. Why can’t you just,” He grasps at the air in demonstration. “Take it?”
Bill’s eye twitches, once. He doesn’t say anything.
“I mean-” Dipper hesitates. “That’s a ton of work. Heading to a different realm, picking a new mortal every time - that’s decades - no, centuries of effort. The human has to do something, right? You wouldn’t do all that just for fun.”
“Excuse you, it’s plenty fun!” Lifting a finger, Bill wags it chidingly. “You think I’m above messing with some mortal just for kicks?”
Shit, he’s not. Ruining a random person’s life for the hell of it is so very, very Bill.
“Alright, maybe.” Dipper admits. This could be because Bill’s a capricious dick. “But I’ll bet there’s more to it.”
“Never have one motive when you could have six,” Bill agrees. The grin widens, he wiggles his eyebrows - and he starts cackling.
So yes, there’s more. And no, he’s not telling.
Dipper racks his brain for ideas. For clues. Whatever Bill’s after must be extremely important if a literal demon god keeps chasing after it, over and over again. Nothing comes to mind, though.
Eventually he sighs, waiting for Bill to be done with his stupid smug laughter. It doesn’t cover up his mistake.
“So I guess that makes me your latest human… companion thing.” He prompts, once Bill’s finally done with his smug, jerk laughter.
One of the first things he noticed - that room in Bill’s penthouse. The one meant for a specific type of person, as clear as a fingerprint. How many of Bill’s mortals stayed in that room? How many of them-
Those notes in the journal. Dipper has to go back and check them. Now that he knows it was someone in exactly the same position, there might be more to learn.
“Congrats, kid! Ya got parts of it! Well played! But I gotta ask one thing.” Bill cocks his head to one side. A brief, amused smirk. “There are plenty of magical guys around! A lot of ‘em begging for demonic contracts!” The smirk widens, sharp teeth showing. “Why do you think I picked you?”
Dipper opens his mouth. After a beat, he shuts it.
He was so busy thinking about the mechanics of his presence that he didn’t think about the motive.
Obviously Bill grabs a human for practical purposes, so he can get that thing he wants on Earth. If it’s an entertaining person, that’s a bonus in his eye. This time it ended up being Dipper, because…
Not because he’s devoted. Or the most knowledgeable guy around. He’s smart, but too aware of the experience he lacks. Weeks ago he would have said it was the ritual knowledge from the cult, but since that’s less than worthless… Something else, then.
“Because…” Dipper starts, then hesitates. Mind racing, trying to pin the strings between the bits of knowledge he has before Bill throws a wrench into it. “Uh.”
Shit. Shit, he’s so close, there’s a piece missing. A final step. He struggles to find it but there’s little time to think; Bill’s expectant expression demands an answer.
“Convenience?” Dipper hazards. He was right there, in the middle of a powerful ritual, directed at Bill, so-
Instantly he knows it was the wrong guess. By the way Bill’s face fell, it was off by several hundred miles.
“Ooh, nice try.” Bill tugs Dipper closer, hand dragging through his hair - Dipper ducks out of the way before he can start a ‘companionable’ noogie. “You really missed the mark there!”
“Any chance you’ll tell me what that is?” Dipper says, with no small amount of bitterness.
Damn it. He was so close he could almost taste it.
“Nope!”
“You- hmph.” With a grunt, Dipper scoots away and out of his grip. He’s used to all the deliberate frustration, but right now it just sucks.
“Aw, don’t make that face!” Bill scoots after him, trying to get his arm around him again. Dipper swats it away. “Tell ya what - here’s a hint! You’re something a guy doesn’t see every day, sapling.” He winks. “Pretty unique.”
How very specific. Totally not opaque. How does Bill manage to give more facts and make things more mysterious in the process? It’s a really annoying talent.
Dipper sulks then, for a bit. When Bill tries petting his air again, he smacks his arm away, muttering unflattering things under his breath. It makes Bill laugh again, cackling in delight.
“What’s the matter?” Bill nudges him, a teasing laugh. “Ease up, kid. Given enough time, you’ll figure out some real secrets.”
“May Cipher hear your words,” Dipper says, the old phrase springing up before he can stop himself. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, cringing away from his own voice.
Thankfully, the slip gets Bill laughing. Dipper’s turn to not live something down; they’re one for one today.
“Okay, some of the affectations are adorable,” Bill says, nearly pinching Dipper’s cheek before he elbows him in the side. “Hardly worth all the other crap, but still!!”
“It really wasn’t,” Dipper says. He rubs at his left wrist. ‘All the other crap’ barely covers it.
“Don’t worry, sapling.” Bill says, voice low and satisfied. He squeezes Dipper’s knee, grip tightening. “Once we got everything in order - we’re gonna wreak some havoc on those idiots! All the fun stuff and more!”
‘Fun stuff’.
Spending time with Bill, even in Dipper’s position of relative safety, teaches you a lot about what he thinks is ‘fun’.
He’s not sure why he didn’t see this coming.
“Is that… so.”
“It is! Getting back at those who wronged you, tormenting the tormentors. Punishment returned with neat ironic twists!” Bill waits for a beat, then grins, jostling Dipper with a gentle shake. “Come on, you gotta have ideas!”
“A few, yeah.” A lot, actually.
Being favored by a ‘god’. Chosen, in a way. Having Bill’s favor means having his full permission to enact vengeance.
He’d be lying if he said he never thought about… what he’d do, if he could. Fleeting ideas from too many nights lying in bed. Staring at the ceiling, feeling the burn in the back of his mouth, or the pain in his knees or the stripes on his back. Frustration and anger and hurt, bubbling up into red-hot thoughts that tasted like blood even with a missing tongue.
Dipper swallows. He rubs at his throat.
“Ooh, I bet you’ve got a lot.” Bill purrs, wrapping his arm around Dipper’s waist. He walks his fingers up Dipper’s knee, trailing up his thigh. “Whatcha got in mind? Turning them inside out? Bone dissolving? Rearranging their legs where their ears should be and making them try to do a cartwheel?”
“Uh,” Dipper says, then, “Well.”
Bill is way more creative than Dipper is. Half the ideas he’s mentioned Dipper couldn’t pull off, and even if he could it’d be… Messier than he’s comfortable with. In those moments of pain and rage, he would have - even then, it’d be a stretch.
Though maybe Dipper wouldn’t mind when it came to the priest. Too bad he’s already dead.
What will he do? When he goes back?
He can see their faces in his mind’s eye. All the people he knows. The only people he ever knew, in that life that feels so far away.They’ll show up again in the room of ceremony, once they get wind of their god’s return. Except this time, he’ll be standing proud at the altar, with everyone in front of him, staring in…
He knows how they stared at Bill, at least. That mix of wonder and terror, their eyes wide. They’ve always believed so much. Hopeful in a way that Dipper never was -
Or. Was, rather. Only when he wasn’t so stupid.
And isn’t it just - so pathetic, and sad. Thinking things might turn out well. That something good might happen, when someone better knows it won’t. Those idiot, expectant moments before you know there’s a punishment coming, that leave you without a chance of defending yourself.
Dipper can feel the burn of Bill staring at him. Waiting to hear his most horrible, gory ideas, and bring them into terrifying technicolor.
“I’m not telling.” He states finally, sounding more prim than he would like. “Nice try. It’s, um. Going to be a surprise.”
“And I can’t wait to see it!” Bill beams, nearly bouncing in place. His enthusiasm is so powerful it’s almost catching. “Mark my words, kid - it’s gonna be a real party.”
“A super fun one,” Dipper says. “Totally.” He offers a smile back, waits for Bill to start cackling - then quickly looks away before his face gives up the game.
For such a consummate liar, Bill’s hit rate on detecting them is only 50/50.
Though. It isn't a lie, really. Dipper does have a lot of ideas. And what he ends up doing to the cult will be a surprise.
In that he’s not sure what he’ll do until he gets there.
“Take your time, sapling! Whatever you come up with is gonna be great, I’m sure.” Bill rubs his hands together, a glint of sinister anticipation in his eye. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Dipper lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I hope you’ll like it.”
Of course it wasn’t going to happen today. That’d be a quick turnaround by anyone’s standards. Even Bill himself needs longer than a few days to cook up a… what did he call it that one time? A ‘showy little number with a twist at the end’. Anything else would be disappointing.
Anyway, it’s too early to make definitive plans. Bill said he should take his time, and Dipper believes him. Shoving his human back into the world half-cocked would ruin the entertainment.
And when you think about it, there are so many options that it could take a lot of time to narrow them down. There could be setbacks, and stutters. It could take weeks, maybe months, to get everything just right. A punishment ironic yet powerful, subtle yet dramatic.
Who knows how long it’ll take until Dipper’s ready to head back? Certainly it won’t feel very long, to a guy who’s billions of years old. And as long as he’s making some progress, nothing needs to happen just yet.
“Ooh, this one,” Bill says suddenly. He sits up straighter as something catches his attention. “I remember when - ah, but that’d be spoilers!”
Dipper looks up. Spoilers for-?
Oh. A new episode started when he wasn’t paying attention.
“It’s still a bad show,” He mutters. He could turn it off out of spite, just to bother Bill - but he did kinda want to see what happened with the twelve-ring summon the ‘bad’ guys were planning.
Another episode would actually be kind of great, thinking about it. He could use the distraction.
Bad TV, Dipper’s learning, is nice. One of the few times where he can almost let his brain turn off.
And having someone else who thinks the show is dumb somehow enhances it.
The climactic battle has the worst dialogue, and terrible graphics. Dipper can barely look at the monsters, they’re so poorly rendered. Bill agrees that they needed a better illusionist; half of the explosions look like they were drawn.
Chatting about something so trivial makes everything so easy. Dipper lets out a laugh when Bill mocks his own actor’s performance, then swats at him when Bill teases him for being a dork.
Some idle comment sparks a bit of bickering. One of them throws popcorn at the other. Dipper doesn’t remember who started it - only that by the end, the bowl is empty again, and he’s smiling for what feels like the first time in hours.
Actor Bill hisses,“Oh, you are a vindictive, terrible mortal.” His suit has mostly melted off from the acid, leaving shreds of it hanging off his arms and chest. The shreds slide off his skin as he storms forward. “A pitiful being like you should never exist!”
“Yet I do!” Protests the human, standing with fists on his hips and a truly defiant look. One only partly ruined by his totally shirtless form.
“You never stood a chance against me,” Actor Bill purrs, slamming a hand into the bark of a tree, pinning his captive in place. “There’s no escape, kid! There never will be!”
“Oh yeah?” The man’s chin juts upward, a sneer of sheer contempt - totally unrealistic, nobody would get away with that - as he flips Bill off. “Then I’ll be your own personal curse, demon. You’ll never escape me either.”
The music surges, a broad orchestra that’s… honestly a jarring clash to the argument that breaks out. You can barely hear what they’re talking about over the grand music.
“Just shut up will you?” The man yells.
With a broad sneer, Actor Bill leans in, smug grin surprisingly close to the real version. “Make me.”
The human fumes, eyes narrowed. His fists clench as if he’s about to throw a punch. But when he extends his arm it’s too slow for that, and his hand is open. It seizes ‘Bill’ by the back of the neck, yanking him in, then -
Dipper nearly leaps out of his seat, eyes wide. Only the pressure of Bill’s arm over him keeps him from standing.
“Three stars for timing, zero for technique.” Bill gives the TV a thumbs down. “That’s way too much tongue! This ain’t slug wrestling for crying out loud.”
Dipper’s shoulders rise nearly to his ears. He doesn’t dare glance at the screen. Only once the wet noises stop, and the credits music rolls, does he try darting one in Bill’s direction.
Who seems entirely, implausibly bored. He cups a hand over his mouth as he yawns, loosely splayed over the couch.
“You’re, uh. Okay with that?” Dipper asks. He tucks his hands between his knees, leaning forward. “It just seems, uh.”
“Seems ‘uh’, what?”
“Like,” Dipper gestures vaguely at the screen, even though it’s faded to black. The credits roll, a series of ominously glowing symbols scrolling up the screen. “That was…” He searches for a word, and fails.
“Terrible writing,” Bill says, bored. He shakes his head, lips drawn into a line. “You’d think someone would come up with a better plot for this kinda crap. It’s not like there isn’t material to go on.”
“But he kissed you,” Dipper says, before he can stop himself.
It’s one thing to blaspheme a little, Dipper himself is no stranger to forbidden acts, but this one takes the cake. The whole bakery, even. To do that at all is bad enough, but to Bill or - or an actor playing him, obviously it’s not the same thing, but still-
“Yeah, yeah, smooching, whatever.” The concept hasn’t phased Bill in the slightest. He snorts, grin widening. “Contrary to your idiot idolatry, I have been known to practice a liplock once in a while!”
“You-” Dipper starts, then stops. “I-” He shuts his eyes, then blinks rapidly. “Yeah, okay.”
So. Bill isn’t surprised, because this is - he sees everything, it’s not like he didn’t know about that kind of stuff.
It’s just that. As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing to get worked up about. Because nothing that happened there was wrong.
Dipper presses the heels of his hands into his eyes to rub them, then draws them down slowly over his face.
Every time he thinks he’s found the bottom of the pit of bullshit he learned back in the cult, he finds another goddamn level beneath it. There may never be an end to all the lies.
Another one he can strike off the ‘sin’ list. There’s basically nothing left now, with Bill indulging in everything from gluttony to sloth to… that.
Every whim Bill has, he indulges. Often to excess, and always with aplomb. Dipper never had the opportunity or ability to do even a tenth of what Bill has, and - god, he wonders what that’s like.
“Do you…” How to phrase this. Dipper wipes sweating palms on his jeans. “Have you… kissed a lot of people?”
The words come out in a bit of a rush. Bill snorts in amusement, which is a relief; that wasn’t the worst question to ask.
“Depends! What’s ‘a lot’? I’m pretty particular about my partners.” Bill’s smile widens, and he wiggles his eyebrows. A quick squeeze Dipper’s shoulder, just above the bicep. “But sure! I’ve known a guy or two worth putting a peck on.”
“Okay,” Dipper says. Then, because that feels inadequate. “Cool.”
Because of course he has. Bill’s put his mouth on. Thoughts are spinning in his head now, rapid and light.
“Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I’ve dabbled in the dating scene!” Bill continues, with an odd tone in his voice. “Pretty tough to find the right guy these days, when you’re holding out for something special.” A nudge, as his eyebrows go double-time.
God, and he would have options- Didn’t Bill say it earlier? People pursue him. For power, sure, but that’s only what he mentioned. Kind of weird, though, Dipper’s only heard of men chasing after -
Wait. Wait, no, how did he never consider this before? Maybe because his stupid upbringing blinded him; Bill’s not human. The shape he’s wearing doesn’t mean anything, metaphysically, doesn’t speak to what he really is, and he just said that at some point he’s kissed a man.
“Are you a girl?” Dipper blurts. Staring wide-eyed at that angular face, at the arms and then a little longer at his chest.
The look of sheer incredulity Bill levels on him makes Dipper sink down into his seat.
“What?” Bill asks, and - oh god. That’s the first genuinely bewildered look Dipper’s ever seen on him.
“I thought - I was wrong.” Dipper’s face burns, he wants to cringe himself into a ball and then fall between the couch cushions. “Sorry.”
Great. Dumb guess, shitty concept. Now he looks like an idiot. His very first assumption was the right one. More fool him for overcorrecting.
“Whatever, kid. And don’t say ‘sorry’,” Bill flicks his fingers. Awkwardness slides off his back like water on a duck, he’s grinning again. “None of your human crap applies, y’know?” He brings his hands together, index fingers and thumbs forming a familiar, three-sided symbol. “I’m the shape you see on caution signs, not bathroom doors.”
“Right.” Dipper perks up. So he wasn’t totally wrong, just... not at all right. Still embarrassing, he should change the subject. “Um. So-”
“But I do have a dick, if that’s what you’re asking.” Bill adds, grinning way too wide.
“I wasn’t.” Dipper claps hands over his ears. It fails to cover up the delighted chortle beside him.
Guess he’s learning all kinds of things about Bill today. Just not ones he wanted.
Not helped by the way Bill leans in very closer, tickling him on the side in a way that makes him jump again. He’s about to scramble off the couch or do something inadvisable like shove someone else off the dang thing - when Bill’s ringtone goes off.
“Ugh, are you- Blegh.” Bill says, moderately annoyed. He leans on Dipper for a moment as he fishes around in his pocket, a smothering weight. How is a simple human shape so heavy.
Whatever he sees on his phone screen has him sticking his tongue out. “Ugh,” He repeats, frowning at. Lifting his arm off of Dipper, and holding up a finger. “Be right back! I gotta take this.”
Dipper hopes the jerk gets lost on the way and falls down a hole. Not really, just - it would be something to say when he’s at a loss for anything else. He just rolls his eyes instead, watching Bill depart with a pointed stride and a grumpy mutter.
Finally, some space to breathe. To think. The mind magic of Bill’s presence always has Dipper scrambling for something to think about that isn’t his too-powerful aura.
He taps the edge of the bowl, an idle beat. Feeling the chill on his side where Bill’s body kept it warm.
Yep. Just Dipper, and the tv, and any remaining popcorn, all to himself. Nothing wrong with that.
He brushes around the bowl without any particular intent. Kernels rustle against his fingers, and he spends a minute swishing them around, even though his hand gets greasy.
The remote lies inches away. Easy to pick up if he wanted to distract himself. Finishing the season is an option, but feels wrong to keep watching when Bill’s not here to see it.
Actually, Dipper could watch something better. Finding a show that doesn’t suck, or have bizarre, blasphemous content. Just some real, semi-wholesome entertainment that doesn’t raise more questions than answers.
Distantly, he hears Bill still on the phone. Sounds like the conversation’s going to take a while.
Dipper taps his fingers on the couch, creeping towards the remote.
Said remote also has, like, a million buttons, so it takes a while to figure out which ones to press. One goes back to the previous episode. This one skips forward, another pauses. This one goes back in fifteen second intervals.
Dipper leans over, checking - Bill, still well out of sight - then taps the volume button down until it’s nearly zero before hitting play again.
“Make me,” Bill’s actor hisses again, before getting grabbed and - stuff.
Dipper sits forward in his seat, elbows on his thighs. Living with Bill means exposing himself to new ideas. Since he didn’t look before, now’s as good a time as any.
Though - Wow, Bill really wasn’t kidding. That is a lot of tongue. Even with the volume lowered it’s all wet and - it makes him feel odd, even though he knows it’s not sinful.
Maybe he should replay it to check.
The fourth time around, he pauses his research to inspect it closer. Aha -That’s what was bothering him, those aren’t real abs. They’re enhanced with makeup. The lighting covers it a bit but when you really look, it’s totally obvious. The actor playing Bill has the worst version; the other guy just has a blotch near his -
“Son of a bitch.” Dipper says, standing up so fast the popcorn bowl dumps its contents on the floor.
The image burns itself into his brain. Dots and lines, laid out on skin. A pattern Dipper could never forget if he wanted to.
Oh, Bill got lucky earlier. Real lucky. The only reason he got away with it is Dipper had his eyes covered. If he’d seen it, he would have had that evil demon bastard as pinned as that human in the show.
Before he knows it he’s charging for the entryway.
He can hear the jerk still talking on his phone, muted voice growing louder as Dipper storms in his direction. Unaware of how he’s been found out.
Dipper doesn’t have a plan in mind, which is the first thing that’s probably going to go wrong - but he’s got to do it, right now, before Bill can run off on some errand or head to some party, evading and avoiding questions like he always does.
And before Dipper can lose the courage to confront him. A little confrontation might intrigue the guy - excite him, even - but the questions racing through Dipper’s mind aren’t going to be fun.
Too bad. Bill’s not going to wiggle his way out of this one.
He catches sight of Bill’s back, turned towards the door and totally not paying attention. Dipper storms up behind him, intending to catch him by the shoulder and whirl him around. See how Bill likes it when he-
The door swings open. Dipper skids to a halt, rocking back on his heels.
That is. Many demons. Eyeballs peeking over the shoulder of something with spikes, another with wings too large to see around. A crowd clustered around the doorway.
Bill stuffs his phone back in his pocket, glaring at them all.
“You call five minutes notice a ‘heads up’? Then show your asses up here?” Contempt rings in Bill’s voice, low and furious. “You got a lot of nerve, and that’s no compliment.”
“It was urgent,” a voice burbles. Something soft and squidgy - oh, that’s where the eyes were, on stalks - it bubbles literally as it speaks. “The mistress-”
“Yeah yeah, blah blah, I’ve heard it all before. Cram it.” Bill stalks forward, leveling a look at the group that has them all scooting away. “Maybe your ‘mistress’ should think ahead next time. Or think at all before calling in a last-minute favor from me.”
Slowly, inch by inch, Dipper backs away. If he keeps really quiet he won’t catch anyone’s attention, they’re all too focused on Bill to mind one small human in the room. Hopefully.
“You got the thing?” Bill snaps his fingers impatiently. There’s some confusion - demons tangling up and shuffling each other around until they manage to wrangle something out of the group. “Alright, hand it over.”
A briefcase is shoved into Bill’s eager grasp. He spends a moment examining it, then unlatches the clasps. Opening it the very, very slightest fraction of an inch - then rolling his eye, and slamming it shut again.
There’s some brief conversation - partially demonic, and partially too inhuman for Dipper to parse. The slimiest demon tries slipping past Bill, into the penthouse - only to get caught by the eyestalk. Green smoke rises, hissing and squealing as Bill’s grasp heats to a burning flame.
“Ah ah ah! Nice try,” Bill chides. With a snap of his fingers, another door appears. Dipper recognizes this one; it leads to a sitting room. “We’ll have our little discussion elsewhere.”
With minor threats and moderate violence, the demon crowd is forced through the open doorway. A miniature parade of odd shapes and sizes, skittering around under Bill’s impatient gaze. He snaps his fingers and they all hurry up.
Dipper guesses he’s going to be preoccupied for a while. He wishes he’d asked more details about this meeting earlier, but neither of them thought it would happen today.
As the last of the demons flutters into the sitting room, Bill turns around. Raising an eyebrow, looking amused.
Dipper makes a belated attempt to duck back around the corner, even though he’s well and truly caught. Curiosity got the better of him, damn it.
“No worries, sapling, you take it easy out here! I won’t be long,” Bill says, voice bright. He waggles his fingers in Dipper’s direction. “Coupla hours at most to milk these suckers for every penny they got.”
Dipper nods, once. He stays silent. Bill’s beckoning him over, but no way is he getting close. He knows that look. As soon as he gets within arm’s reach, he’ll have his cheeks pinched or pulled into a noogie or something.
Bill makes a disappointed face as his nefarious plan is thwarted, then shrugs. The easy grin returns. “Fine, be that way.” He gives Dipper a sharp wave and a wink. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t! Or do! I’m not a cop!”
The door shuts behind him with an ominous ‘click’. Dipper watches it for a while. No motion, no sound. No Bill popping back out, declaring that he’s already done and they can finish the drama.
Guess they’re well and truly settled in for some weird, demonic business deal. For several hours. Or more.
God, that’s frustrating. As much as Dipper wants answers, he can’t just barge into a room full of strangers and start demanding them. Especially when those questions might be kind of… personal. Bill probably wouldn’t be furious if it was just Dipper asking - but airing his dirty laundry in front of a crowd is a terrible idea on multiple fronts.
Damn it. And Dipper was this close to having him right where he wanted him, too.
He kicks the carpet a couple times. Then the baseboards. When the meeting hasn’t resolved two minutes later, Dipper stuffs his hands in his pockets, and slinks back over to the couch.
It’s empty, with scattered cushions and a throw blanket disordered from their popcorn fight. He stares at the discarded bowl, and the cooled fabric.
Settling back down isn’t nearly as appealing as it was five minutes ago. He’s not sure he can.
Dipper feels his hands clench into fists, then forces them to relax. He tucks them behind his back instead.
Every time. Every freaking time. Just when he thinks he’s close to understanding, another curveball gets in his way.
Pacing back and forth helps a little. There’s plenty of space in the living room to work out this restless energy.
Whatever this - this thing is, it’s been going on for a while. Centuries of Bill picking up mortals, putting them through their paces, trying vainly to reach the object of his desire. A pivotal point of his unknown plan.
And since he’s still going after it, every human before Dipper must have failed.
Maybe Bill got distracted by dicking around. Maybe it really is too powerful to overcome. Or maybe his humans didn’t even know what it was, since they were in the company of a cagey, manipulative asshole.
Dipper could go back and dig through the books in the guest room - but if they didn’t know either, then that’ll be a wash. There’s the show, but it’s so full of bullshit that he doesn’t dare make too many guesses.
Even at the best of times Bill’s wrigglier than an eel, and a total stickler for details. If Dipper doesn’t check off all the boxes on the list, finding everything he was supposed to - then Bill’s going to tut and wag his finger instead of handing over the prize
Too many questions. Zero idea what it’s about. Only one person knows anything useful, and he’s a total dick about parceling out the facts.
Waiting for him to get back won’t take long. It’s barely any time at all, even on a human timescale. Dipper can manage.
It’s just…
The idea of sitting around meekly, waiting for Bill to return. Hoping he’ll come bearing information because Dipper needs his stupid hand held through the mystery just feels - pathetic.
Everybody keeps making decisions for Dipper that change his whole life. Nobody gives him a heads up on what they’re going to do. People taking charge, over and over and - he’s just so tired of letting things happen to him.
If he just had one more thing. Something to prove that he’s right, not hearsay or guesses but physical evidence, that he could shove right in Bill’s dumb face -
Dipper pauses in his rapid pacing. His head slowly turns.
There is one place that he hasn’t fully mapped.
Technically he’s been in there before. Even more technically, Bill’s said he’s allowed to enter. Dipper just hasn’t gone back since that first time since. Well. It’s a little too personal. It felt weird to poke around.
But if there was a place to find the deepest, most powerful secrets of Bill Cipher - it would be in there.
The doorknob to Bill’s master bedroom is oddly warm for something metal. Like it has its own radiating heat, just like the demon who commands it.
Dipper takes a calming breath, then lets it out as he turns the knob.
The unlocked door opens easily, gliding without a sound. Funny, he almost thought it would have an ominous creak.
The carpet’s soft. It muffles his steps. Not that there’s anyone to hear him; Bill’s busy with his meeting several rooms and an unknown amount of actual space away.
Still, Dipper feels a semi-giddy thrill run through him as he walks back in - intentionally, not fleeing - into the most private sanctum of his ‘god’.
Centuries worth of humans. That could be dozens, even hundreds of people, depending on how fast Bill churns through them. And he loves his little trophies and knickknacks, having something to wave around while he brags.
If there is any proof, Bill will have kept it around.
Last time Dipper was here, it was during a panicked rush. He didn’t really look at the room, or check for anything that might explode or devour him - and then Bill was there, and it was. A lot.
This time, he can really take in the place. Get a real sense of what might be going on.
Speaking of - Dipper reaches out with his magical senses -
Then winces. He eases back until the flare of magic is no longer blinding.
Everything in the bedroom is soaked in Bill-essence. Not surprising, really. All of it has marinated in god-demon magic for hell knows how many years, so thick it feels like it could be wiped up with a finger.
For all that, it’s remarkably unthreatening. The sensation’s not welcoming, that word would be too strong - More like it could be dangerous, and deliberately choosing not to be.
“Right,” Dipper says aloud - checks over his shoulder on a paranoid impulse - and sighs when nothing happens. He claps his hands together. “This should be good.”
Time’s limited. Bill claimed it’d be a couple hours, but his company wasn’t invited. Depending on how annoyed he gets, that meeting could be over in seconds.
Better get to work.
Circling the room, Dipper trails his palm over the wall, checking for cracks that would indicate a door or a safe. He brushes fingers over a shelf for secret switches, then rubs them together. Not even a hint of dust.
There’s got to be somewhere he would hide a private journal, or… or a list of human-selecting criteria. Or like, an elaborate carving of every human he’s ever had, with all the information about their lives and when and why he grabbed them. Details.
Sure, there’s plenty of magic around. Tons of it. It’s in the absurd amount of Bill-shaped knicknacks, and the variety of miscellaneous thingamajigs. It’s in the paintings, in the tapestries. The little statues and trinkets and amulets displayed on the mantle. An extravagant collection if you’re generous, clutter if you’re not.
Another person would consider this quite the find. Dipper’s stumbled over a dozen artifacts pulsing with power just lying around like cast-off socks. Finding what Bill likes the most or considers the best is nearly impossible to parse.
Dipper figures it out in about two minutes.
The only thing to glean from this horde? Is that Bill picks up too many souvenirs.
He scowls at one particularly annoying statuette, towering over a field of presumably conquered human-things. A crowd of bowing figures, prostrating before the much-larger Bill in a series of miniature lines. He checks over his shoulder, then flicks the statue’s golden hat off.
On the one hand, it’s careless as hell. Leaving an amulet that rips off all your skin, lying half-under a chain that summons a horde of flying eyeballs, is a recipe for disaster.
On the other hand, it’s… maybe a little clever. A type of misdirection.
Sure, some artifacts have elaborate puzzle elements, and half of them likely contain mystical secrets - but Bill’s decorative habits are so busy, it covers up the fact that none of them are important.
No, Bill’s real secrets aren’t so easily found. They’re held much, much closer to his chest.
Putting them behind a puzzle wouldn’t work. Someone could solve that. Hiding them in plain sight is an option, but not particularly Bill’s style. Guarding them with a series of traps… Probably not in his bedroom, where he could accidentally set them off and ruin his suit.
But then, that would be what people expect, wouldn’t it? That Bill would have a bookshelf that swings out into a secret room, or a seal protecting a hidden vault. A big scary door, with mystical, nearly impenetrable lock.
…It’s all about misdirection.
Dipper drops the edge of the painting he was toying with, and heads to the dresser instead.
Part of him can feel the weight of the all-seeing eyes. The portraits of his ‘god’, omnipresent and watching. Unblinking, unmoving. Always watching.
Dipper shuts that idea out of his mind. That’s not true and he knows it, for a fact. Bill doesn’t pay attention to even half his eyes on a good day. Most times it’s like a single digit percentage.
Odds are he won’t find out. Besides, he’s too busy at the moment to care. What Bill doesn’t know can’t bother him, so it’s totally fine if Dipper rifles around in his underwear drawer.
Dipper holds up a pair of boxers, frowning at the pattern. Tiny blue pine trees against the most garish yellow ever. Truly hideous.
This is both worse than the triangle ones, and more inexplicable than ones with the heart pattern. Hardly what he’d pictured underneath the suit.
Not that he’s ever pictured it. That would be weird. But if he had, it would have been way cooler than this.
This search comes up with nothing, other than confusion at Bill’s fashion sense. Just clothes in the drawers, along with several unsheathed knives, a Bill-shaped keychain, and three glass eyeballs. Dipper does find a drawer with a lock set in the bottom, but he doesn’t have the key. Even then, opening it would just swing the bottom open and let all the pants fall out, so. No dice.
The closet is a walk-in. Dipper stands in the entrance for a minute, staring at the lines of suits and shirts and clothes and cloth and -
He shut the door again. Nope. That went back way too far. Diving in there might get him lost in the bespoke suit dimension.
Checking under the bed reveals… exactly the same stuff as last time.
More dustbunnies than anything useful. There’s a magical ring that’s bent with the gem fallen out, weakly emitting a tiny skull-shaped cloud. One actual sock lies discarded under there, half-balled up from its removal. It has little blood-soaked knives on it.
Dipper rubs at his eyes, staring up at the bedsprings. He sneezes, then wipes his nose on his sleeve.
So far, so… nothing. Disappointing, and weird.
He crawls back out from under the bed. Brushing off the dust, he gets up and sets fists on his hips.
Most of the obvious hiding places contain exactly what one would expect. Worst of all, it’s weird stuff. Just weird enough that he’s certain he’s not in a fake, illusory version of Bill’s bedroom, but the actual real place. It’s just less exciting than he’d thought it’d be.
Is there… actually nothing here?
Not that the evidence doesn’t exist. It has to be somewhere. The idea of Bill not having any secrets is impossible. Like a duck not swimming, or most mammals not breathing; a necessary part of their nature.
So it might actually be a different, hidden room. Figures. Getting to Bill’s secrets wouldn’t be as easy as opening his bedroom door.
And if that’s the case - Dipper’s out of luck. Finding an access point would be hard enough with his limited experience. Bill’s secret horde would have a set of quantum puzzles and a spike trap, at minimum.
He sits down on the bed, sighing heavily - then blinks.
Wow. The bed is incredibly nice. Just touching the sheets is a smooth, luxurious experience; Dipper presses his palm into those soft covers, stroking along the edge. Bouncing slightly on the mattress, just to test.
Not too firm. Not too soft. Just right. He could lie down for a moment if he wanted - and. And Bill said he could be in the bed, right? That was a while ago, but the invitation wasn’t taken back.
As he swings his legs up, one of them knocks into the bedside table.
Hold on - he hasn’t checked that yet.
Dipper hops, reluctantly, off that comfortable bed. One that has to be magical in its own right; he was nearly tempted to take a freakin’ nap. He’s lucky to have pulled himself out of it.
The bedside table doesn’t have such dangers, thankfully. Its drawer opens easily, unlocked and smooth on its slides.
Sadly, there’s not much to look at.
Dipper frowns at the contents. Some breath mints, a big bottle of clear liquid. A strange metal thing that’s bulbous on one end and tapered on the other. Picking it up shows it’s heavy and cool - but no apparent purpose, and zero magic. Maybe a weapon? Except it’s nowhere near big enough to be an efficient one.
He has to pull the drawer out more to get the metal object out. It easily slides open another foot, which is - weird? And actually…
Another tug, and a few more inches confirms - this goes back further than physically possible.
With a shrug, Dipper chucks the metal thing over his shoulder and onto the bed. By the time the drawer is out all of the way, it’s almost longer than he is tall.
Pushing things around to check, he finds snack wrappers - gross - and pieces of bone. A tiny skull, some weird statuette. A pair of handcuffs and a sleep mask, a tangle of metal wires and an elaborate candle, a weird ribbon-tied bundle of brown hair that he nervously scoots away with the back of his hand. With all the crap in here he’s half-worried he’ll feel something go ‘squish’ or skitter up his arm.
This is, more than anything, a junk drawer. Damn it. This was the last place he was going to check, and he came up empty-handed-
Then his knuckles bump against something, at the very far back. Shadowed by the overhang of the table above it, so far back it’s almost impossible to get a grip. His fingers slip twice before he gets a nail around one of the corners. A little wriggling. Then - Ha!
Dipper pulls the object out with more force than he needed. The move jolts the drawer open at an awkward angle, off its track. Whatever, he’ll fix it later.
In his hands, there’s a picture frame.
Now this could be something. A personal photo, so close to the bed. Something that should be resting out in the open, until it was stashed away nearly out of reach. He turns it over in his hands.
A picture of Bill. What a surprise.
Nothing remarkable here. Just Bill himself, giving the camera a thumbs up with stupid sunglasses over his eyepatch, lounging on some white-sanded beach on a towel of his own image.
Vacation photo. Great. Totally relevant. Totally not annoying, to get so close and yet so far.
“Jackass,” Dipper mutters, and pokes the stupid demon ‘god’ right in his stupid eye. The back of the photo frame presses against his fingers.
Wait. Then - It’s not flush with the frame. There’s a gap, or -
Dipper flips it over again. The only thing keeping the picture in is a tab, holding the backing in place. If he twists it, it comes off easily.
And there is another photograph, hidden behind the first. Oldest trick in the book.
Whatever Bill’s got to hide here, he sure as hell didn’t make it easy to find. Stuffed away in an innocuous place, not a hint of magic around it, right in his personal sanctum - this has to be something good.
A quick flick retrieves it; Dipper flips the photo around, and -
Blinks, twice. He nearly does a double take. An illusion? No, it’s - he just checked for magic, and there isn’t any here.
It’s just a picture of… Dipper.
And it has to be him, because- because it looks like him, and he’s in Bill’s home, wearing one of his favorite shirts as he lounges on the couch. In the photograph, he’s mid-yawn, arms drawn up as he stretches, loose sleeves falling down.
For a moment he wonders if this was one of Bill’s other humans - it’d be one hell of a resemblance if so - but the jagged pink scar running down the left wrist is absolutely unmistakable.
Dipper stares for a while. He’s not sure what to make of this.
Why is this stashed away? It’d help if it was like, a weird picture, one with some clear and sinister intent. The weirdest thing about this is the fact that it exists. And that quiet fluttering noise that started a few seconds ago.
Something taps on one of Dipper’s shoes, and he glances down.
There wasn’t just one picture.
With the backing removed, with the way he’s holding it - dozens of photos pour out of the picture frame, fanning out in their fall; an impossible number of them, there’s no way they all could have fit- Goddamn it, it’s extradimensional.
“Shit,” Dipper says, and tries to clap the backing back on. He gets a papercut for his troubles and swears, sticking his finger in his mouth.
Some fumbling later, he slaps the frame onto the sheets face down. The flood ceases, though a few more puff out as a final insult and scatter on the sheets.
Dipper backs up cautiously, just in case there’s another surprise in store - and nearly slips as a picture glides across the carpet. A second trips him up as he tries to get his balance, he grabs the blankets to steady himself.
How many fell out of the frame? Where have they all gone? It can’t be…
Dipper wheels around and stares in horror at the room.
Photos have tumbled everywhere. Across the floor and onto the table and under the bed, some halfway across the freaking room like an extra-inconvenient game of 52 pickup.
“Shit,” Dipper repeats. He nearly sits down on the sleep-enchanted bed again, then thinks better of it.
So much for being careful and subtle in his quest. Evidence of his spying has splattered across the entire goddamn room. He scoops up an armful, cursing as half of them flutter away like annoying butterflies. Another grab lets half the ones he gathered tumble back out of his grip.
Okay, this - this isn’t a disaster yet. This is solvable. Bill doesn’t need to know, it’ll be fine. He’ll never notice. As long as Dipper gathers these and gets them back into the frame. That shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. Depending on how long that meeting runs, he might even have time to-
A sound. Was that a footstep? Or just paranoia.
Clenching his teeth against another curse, Dipper snags another armful, then a second. For lack of anywhere else to put them, he dumps them on the bed. Put everything in one place first, then worry about -
No, there was a sound. He hears another one now. The doorknob rattles, clicking as it turns.
Shit.
Dipper swipes his hands over the blankets, snagging what few photos he can reach and shoving them into the opened drawer. Then ramming the drawer shut with an all-too-loud thunk, clamping loose pictures in the gap, before belatedly realizing he left the metal thing out, too. He grabs it as the door starts opening, and now there’s no time left, he’s got to hide.
Suits rustle as he makes his dive into the closet. The door, pulled behind him as he made his rush to hide, clicks against the frame but doesn’t latch.
No more noise from the main room. Too quiet, almost, the sound of his own quiet panting muffled by surrounding cloth.
That. Did not go well. Dipper grits his teeth, silently running a prayer against discovery in his mind - wait, no, calling out for the guy he’s trying to hide from is a terrible idea.
Through the inch of open space, he can hear the faintest, lightest footstep. Not the thud of Bill’s shoes - but he might be still in the doorway. It’s hesitant because he’s looking across the mess, wondering what the hell just happened.
And what the hell was Dipper thinking? Permission to be in Bill’s room is nowhere near the same as permission to get his grubby fingers on every inch of Bill’s junk. Even that intrusion pales in comparison to putting a gallery’s worth of photos - ones Bill had deliberately hidden - practically on display like an impromptu art exhibition.
Dipper takes slow, measured breaths. In, and out.
All he can do now is wait. Stay quiet. Small, and hidden. Out of sight equals out of mind for most beings.
It’s too much to hope that Bill will let this slide. But maybe he can come up with an excuse? Lying in a cool enough way might amuse Bill enough not to go full-on nuclear.
The closet doesn’t judge him. The closet is where nobody will yell at him, since suits can’t talk. He’s even ninety-percent sure Bill doesn’t have any that could; it’d take away from his own rambling time.
Dipper shuffles into the rack, pressing his face against the lapels of a jacket. It’s a little cool on his cheeks, smelling faintly of Bill’s aftershave. He sighs against the jacket, feeling the press of the other suits on his back, and almost, sort of, feels a bit calmer.
After a while, he remembers he’s clutching the metal thing tight, in both hands. It’s warmed remarkably fast against his flesh, and now he’s not sure what to do with it. Stick it in a suit pocket, maybe? It doesn’t fit in any of them, or his own for that matter. The damn thing’s too long and weirdly shaped to go in anywhere.
Another footstep. Soft, but close. Despite the danger, Dipper pokes his head out of the suit rack to get a better listen.
The pacing is very soft and very rapid. Like multiple little feet instead of the standard two, tapping on the floor. Then on the bed, then - on the wall?
Okay, it’d be one thing if Bill decided to tiptoe in on his hands and knees. Weird, but not that weird, considering. The erratic movement, also plausible. Who knows what the hell he gets up to when Dipper’s not watching him.
It’s just… too quiet. Too furtive, really, like it’s trying hard not to make too much noise. Dipper’s all too familiar with the process.
And faintly, he can hear a strange, gentle buzzing. A quick, two-second burst that he almost mistakes for static. Only there’s no TV in here, and the pitch is off..
Dipper scoots a little closer to the door, ready to press his ear against it. The sound hits a deep, unpleasant memory, throwing him back to some of the more unsavory cult duties. Sacrifice cleanup. The messes always had a bunch of - but he’s never even seen a spider in Bill’s rooms. Much less some sort of giant fly.
He turns to peek through the opened crack, just as the door gets thrown open wide.
The demon - and it must be a demon, because no fly is five feet tall and has that huge a spike on its face - lets out a horrible, high-pitched shriek. Dipper’s own scream doesn’t match its pitch, but it’s a hell of a lot louder.
Compound eyes reflect his face back at him like mirrors. A thin tonguelike proboscis runs along the sharp spike on its face, four arm-leg things reaching out towards him with odd spiked pads -
Dipper screams again, and hits it with the metal thing.
The demon wobbles, looking dazed - before it can grab at him again, he whacks it a second time. Wings buzz fast, a high ear-splitting pitch, limbs grasping at his shirt and his face. They whip acros his arms and sting. Shoving it away feels so- gross, it is like a big bug, all shell and hair and ew.
Another grab; the pad lands on his collar and it almost digs into his flesh One of the spindly limbs cuts across his shirt with a tearing noise and he hits it harder, feeling something crunch unpleasantly under the blow.
At some point the metal object in his hand started buzzing too; something in the sound has the demon reeling away in fear or disgust. And that is a chance to land another blow. A solid one, right in the eye. As it reels back Dipper follows the blow another, and a third, and again and again and again until stuff stops slashing at him and poking, and all that’s left is empty space in front of him.
Dipper realizes he's breathing hard. A quick patdown to check shows he’s sweating, and there’s some - ugh- goop on his hand. His shirt’s ripped, but there’s no blood. Everything’s intact.
Well. He’s intact.
A thoroughly swatted demon lies on the carpet, carapace fractured in multiple places. One leg jerks up and twitches rapidly before going still.
Nausea roils in Dipper’s stomach. It’s not human gore, or even mammalian, but. God, that was gross. And it smells really, really bad.
Something slams open a few feet away, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin. He looks up at the noise and -
At Bill.
A newly-manifested doorway has popped into existence, right in the middle of the room. Bill stands in the frame, teeth bared in a snarl, his arms braced he’s about to leap out. His eye lands right on Dipper, lit from inside with fire.
Then he blinks.
Bill looks Dipper over, then down at the twitching bug demon. His eye glances over the room, then back to Dipper. Then down again, to the metal thing in his hand, still buzzing away. Dipper lets it drop from nerveless fingers, where it vibrates in a slow little circle on the floor.
Several seconds pass without a snappy comment. Dipper can’t read the expression on Bill’s face. It flickered through several before settling on blank..
“Well, well, well, well, well,” Bill says, clapping his hands together. An unsurprisingly swift recovery. Behind him in the sitting room, Dipper can see the other demons clustering around to catch a peek. “I can’t believe what you’ve been up to!”
Dipper’s heart plummets into his stomach. He clutches at his torn shirt. That smile looks delighted, but it always masks something else.
He’s been caught. Caught right in the middle of things, red-handed. Guilty as hell in the eye of his god.
What the fuck was he thinking. Digging where he shouldn’t, pushing when it’s wrong. Being allowed to be here has been more than Dipper could ever ask for, and what does he give in return? Blasphemy. Violation. He’s ruined everything because he wanted to know things he was never meant to, just like he always does.
“Look, I can explain,” He babbles, backing up a step. Bill’s quicker by far, catching up before he can do more than hold up his arms. “Wait, I-”
A firm hand catches his shoulder; the other takes him by the cheek. Bill’s face is inches away, approaching fast, and he can’t help but see those sharp, sharp teeth in his open mouth, things that could bite and tear.
At the very last moment, his head is twisted to the side. Something soft and damp smacks him on the temple.
“Mmmmwah!” Bill draws back with an exaggerated sound, cupping Dipper’s face in both hands. “Boy, you really walloped that guy! Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.”
“Whuh,” Dipper says, intelligently.
Bill drops his grip and turns towards the demon on the floor, giving it a contemplative, almost professional look. He taps his foot for a moment, then nods, like an expert evaluating a journeyman’s craft.
Dipper touches his temple with two careful fingers. It’s a little damp. A warm, tingling feeling spreads out from where Bill- Where it happened.
“Now, as for you-” Bill eyes the demon a little longer, then sets his hand on his hips. His smile changes to the sharp, unpleasant version. “Creeping around the place. Digging through my stuff. I don’t take kindly to peeping eyes that aren’t mine.” One sharply polished shoe lands a heavy kick in the vague area of the thing’s groin; it lets out a tinny scream. “And you made a huge goddamn mess while you were at it!”
Dipper glances over the scattered photos, open drawers, and the scattered knicknacks. Yes, someone certainly did.
Another kick lands on the demon with a crunch, and he winces.
“Gee, I wonder how you snuck your way in.” Bill says, immensely dry. He turns slightly towards that still-open doorway. The demons leaning in to watch start backing up fast. “Who coulda possibly helped with that! It’s a real friggin mystery for the ages!”
A mystery that Dipper had been wondering about, somewhere beneath the panic. The solution’s clear now that it’s gone.
Getting through Bill’s front door was all they needed. With such a big crowd of ‘small-timers’, as Bill would call them, he’d barely bother to track every one of them. The fly demon could have easily hitched a ride in a shrunken state; too small to be noticed until the time came to start snooping. With Bill busy elsewhere, it would have been a perfect opportunity - if Dipper hadn’t had the same idea.
That it is a spy is a relief. Dipper had been a little worried. If this was the kind of bug that comes crawling in after cracking open a window, he’d have second thoughts about his living arrangements.
Bill makes an odd pointing gesture. The room tremble as it shifts - and a spike impales the demon in front of him, dangling its slender body in midair.
“I’ll handle those losers in a second,” He says, gesturing at the doorway. He taps a foot, humming briefly in thought. “But as for you…”
Dipper backs up further. He keeps Bill between him and the fly-creature while still trying to keep an eye on the action.
Watching Bill about to enact his vengeance is … Sure, it was spying. It didn’t do what was right, or even smart. But he already beat it up, and it’s looking really rough. Whatever Bill’s going to do is -
The insect-like demon flails on the spike, limbs writhing. A loud buzz starts up again, along with some odd clicking noises.
“Hm?” Bill cocks his head to one side. Then he glances back at Dipper. “Yeah, what about him?”
On second thought, Bill should finish this guy off quickly and violently. For spying, and for ruining Dipper’s shirt, and being a goddamn snitch.
“Oh, I see!” With a grin, Bill stalks closer. “You know what, you’re right! If I caught two spies in my place, they’d totally get the same treatment!”
Dipper’s heart leaps into his throat.
No, wait, that - he was so certain, this isn’t -
“But there’s a real big problem with your dumb little assumption.” Bill tuts, holding up one finger in a chiding wag. With a vicious grin, he seizes it by the spike on its face. “There’s only one of those around!”
Dipper’s heart restarts, though it’s pounding fast. He braces himself on one knee, starting to breathe again.
“See, you’re here uninvited.” Bill says, very calmly, even as he twists the head at an unnatural angle, a sound both crunchy and wet. The wings buzz so fast a breeze starts picking up. “And HE freakin’ LIVES HERE.”
Oh.
There’s a thud as the severed head drops; Bill stomps on it with one perfect black shoe. Fragments of chitin flying, goo splatters in a comically yellow splat, making more of a mess than Dipper ever could.
Then Bill scowls at the ruined carpet, his hands on his hips. Like he’d walked in on a pile of undone dishes instead of making the disaster himself.
And Dipper’s still standing there. Untouched.
“There,” Bill says, with deep satisfaction. He wipes his hands off on his suit jacket - then frowns and takes the whole thing off, toweling bits of innards off his face. “What a moronic thing to try. Though it has been a grip since anyone made an attempt!.” Shrugging, he tosses the jacket away. “Guess they’re forgetting what happened to the last batch.”
Dipper nods, waiting for a moment. Then another.
And he’s still there, untouched. Unharmed. Because - because he’s not a spy, or an interloper, or even an unwanted or unattended guest. Bill doesn’t see him that way. He thinks that -
“So, I’m…” Dipper starts. Pauses, briefly, as Bill looks over his shoulder, then summons up the scraps of his courage. “I’m… not in trouble?”
“Sapling, you’re fine! Better than fine!” Bill says, dismissing the suggestion with a wave. “Hell, you could go through my freakin’ underwear drawer and I wouldn’t give a crap.” He pauses - then turns towards Dipper with a huge, knowing grin. “See anything you liked?”
“I’m-” Dipper freezes. All his muscles tense, and his face is hot. He touches his temple again; the tingling has started running down his neck. “Uh.”
Bill’s still staring at him. His smile widens another degree for every second it lasts.
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” Dipper blurts, and starts backing up again.
That’s a good excuse. Reasonable. He’s got goop on him, he’s sweaty, and he would really rather avoid talking about anything right now.
“Suit yourself!” Bill laces his fingers together, pushing his arms out in front of himself until the knuckles crack. He faces the door again, storming towards the meeting he’d recently abandoned. “I got some business to take care of.”
Dipper nods, once. He leaves the bedroom at a walk instead of a run, and hears the door shut behind him.
He’s…
All his breath comes out in a rush. The wall is steady under his back as he leans on it, palm over his eyes.
Holy crap, he’s fine. He really is. It’s okay.
This wasn’t a mistake. Everything was fine, he did make the right guess, and thank fuck for that. He is allowed in the bedroom. He could go anywhere he wants, and it’d be fine. More than fine.
He also wasn’t lying about the shower. Not only does it buy him some space, this fly-blood stuff really stinks.
Getting into the shower, he sets his face in the hot, pounding stream and tries to scrub off the goo. Water pressure. Hot water, and as much of it as he likes. Dipper can turn his back to the steady stream and feel it beating out the tension.
He lets out a low groan, letting water run through his hair. For all that it’s bizarre and confusing, the sheer luxury of Bill’s home is downright amazing.
Though. It’s not just Bill’s home, is it.
Dipper tilts his head out of the water. He watches droplets trickle down the shower walls.
Like. Obviously Bill’s the owner, he’s the ruler of his own domain. He controls the very fabric of space, changing the interior on a whim -
But there’s another person around. One who’s not a guest, or merely staying over for business reasons. Not a sentient pet or a tool or one of his knicknacks, kept carefully for display.
Dipper is a whole entire person who gets to be here, in Bill’s home, because he lives here too.
Not all that long ago, he was worried he wouldn’t leave this place alive. Then he wondered whether he could leave at all. For a while he wondered if Bill would make him go, after he was done doing… whatever he wanted to do with Dipper. Yet another part was convinced that when they went back to the cult, that’d be it. Back to earth, out of the dreamscape and out of Bill’s hair.
The last two no longer hold up. Because Dipper lives here, Bill said it himself, and by the nonchalant way he said it it’s been a done deal for a while.
Bill didn’t even try to hide it. He didn’t think it was a surprise.
The concept’s so big that Dipper doesn’t know where to start.
Living here. With Bill.
Dipper’s been places, though not many. Lived in places, if only a grand total of two. Early on, he thought that this one would be the same as the last. A man in charge, setting strict rules that must be followed. Forbidden from ever leaving. Punishment for not doing as he was told, or even thinking about not toeing the line.
All his experience told him that was how things go. It was all he knew. An assumption that everywhere was going to be the same tune, played on a different instrument.
His assumptions have never been right.
Bill’s home is a different beast entirely.
Bill could be in charge, but he doesn’t care to be. Not with Dipper. He hasn’t heard an order leave his mouth in ages. He’s free to leave the apartment if he wants, nothing’s going to stop him - though that’s a bad idea for other reasons, and Bill didn’t create them just keep Dipper in line. The worst punishment he’s gone through is a pinched cheek and some teasing, which is so minor that it almost goes into the negative. And he doesn’t have to worry about the breaking rules, because Bill doesn’t have any.
DIpper almost wishes he could blame it on, well. Demon realm. Strange culture. That things are topsy-turvy because everything else conspired to make it that way, rather than just.
Like, he already knew the cult was shitty when he was still in it. Knowing how shitty it really was leaves him wondering what a normal life could have been like. A strange, what-if ache.
Dipper had made plans to leave that awful place, knowing it meant he could never return. Even if there was anything he wanted to go back for, it wouldn’t be safe; Once he got out, that was going to be it. The whole world, or the conclave. One or the other.
If he wants to step outside Bill’s home, he doesn’t need to abandon it.
They’ll make a visit to Earth, for one. Bill wants to go to the cult for revenge, and Earth seems to intrigue him. He’ll take Dipper along with him, not lock him away in his room, because he wouldn’t let him miss the ‘fun’.
And - and if the show was right. Later, Dipper might get to visit Earth by himself, while Bill waits back at the Fearamid.
It’s an idea that feels more dreamlike than anything else in this realm of sleep. That maybe, this could be a place he can leave and come back to. Somewhere he doesn’t have to choose. Going and seeing things he’s always wanted, then returning again, with someone happy to see him at the door. Maybe that’s what a home’s supposed to be.
Dipper lets his head thunk into the side of the shower, out of the stream.
It’s weird to think a deadly demon realm ruled by an all-powerful madman is the safest Dipper’s felt in… forever, maybe. Which is another question entirely.
How the hell is he getting away with all of this?
It’s not just the snooping from earlier; he didn’t find much worth mentioning. Punching Bill in the goddamn face, though, that should have sent him into the lowest, most horrible dungeons. Not to mention the increasing amount of backtalk he’s giving a ‘god’. Complaining and questioning, even arguing, all excused. The defiance even delights Bill, because he’s a huge goddamn weirdo.
Nobody else - nothing in the universe - could get away with all of that without retribution. Yet Dipper remains singularly, remarkably unharmed. The worst Bill’s ever done is scare him a little, and even that’s odd considering the whole ‘nightmare king’ deal he has going; Dipper should have had at least two heart attacks by now.
The birthmark. It must be that.
The one human in the show had it, and Dipper has it too. The other human companions… He didn’t see it on them, but it might have been in a different place? At minimum though, that’s two humans who Bill hung out with, wearing the same star-ridden shape.
But ow would Bill have known Dipper had it? He wasn’t watching him before they met - and by the time they did, the mark had been missing for ages.
It could be magical. Maybe. Dipper’s never heard of ‘special birthmarks’ actually being a thing outside of bad fantasy novels. Then again, if it was, the magic could show up in his blood - exactly what was used in Bill’s summon. Which would…. Do a thing. He thinks.
Dipper rubs his face with the washcloth, willing his brain to start working better.
Everything feels muddled and weird. Partly from exhaustion, partly from too much information with not enough connections.
Still, one thing is certain. Bill wasn’t lying, no matter what Dipper thought at the time. He is special.
It’s… what, special… privilege? A secret power? Some strange field of influence, so specifically targeted it’s ridiculous, with no logical reason to exist? It’s…
Dipper gets out of the shower, and stares at himself in the mirror. He sticks his tongue out. The birthmark remains, brightly outlined on pink flesh.
Having more pieces to the puzzle helps. Sadly, he still doesn’t know the picture on the front of the box.
Confronting Bill without having his thoughts in order would be worse than useless. He’ll dodge every guess, unless Dipper throws something really solid at him. He needs a strong offense to pry the secrets from between Bill’s stubborn, oddly soft lips.
Screw it. There’s too much to go through, and he’s so, very tired. He can sort it out tomorrow.
There’s no rush, anyway. Bill’s not going to kick him out. Dipper lives here.
Preparing for bed is the same ritual as always. Brush teeth, get changed. He can turn the lights on and off whenever he wants, not wait for someone else to do it at a mandated time, and now he keeps them dimmed. The bed’s already made in the guest room-
No, His room. Where he lives.
An emotion fills his chest, welling up until it feels like he could - Dipper grabs mini-Bill and holds it tight.
Squishing the plush in his arms helps, though he has to hold it very hard. And this is his, too. Bill hasn’t tried to take it from him beyond starting to glare at it on occasion. He has so much that’s his.
The quilts settle cozily around him, comforting in their weight. The pillow soft,sinking under his head. Comfort, too; he has this now, and he’s never, ever going to take it for granted.
Problem being, when he shuts his eyes, there’s flashes of translucent wings. A high buzzing, from both the thing in his hand and the thing making crunching noises -
Dipper sits up again with a groan. Rubbing at his face, he kicks his legs over the edge of the bed.
He knows what kind of night he’s in for. They’re infrequent enough lately that it doesn’t bother him. Nightmares in the nightmare realm, who could have guessed. Another round isn’t going to kill him.
Yet somehow, the idea of lying down and watching that scene repeat in extra-gory detail, with the cult and god knows what else thrown in, feels like an extra shitty thing to go through right now.
He could get up and read for a while, try to get it out of his mind. Or get a glass of water, or journal down all the things he’s learned today. Hell, he could even bother Bill, who doesn’t ever seem to sleep and certainly wouldn’t mind the company. He’s almost always up for whatever Dipper suggests, no matter what it…
Huh. Now that’s an interesting thought.
It might work, too. Being ‘special’ gives him some extra leverage. Stuff that Bill wouldn’t normally allow, he lets Dipper get away with handily.
He could use that.
Dipper gets up, heading for the doorway. Still clutching mini-Bill, since he doesn’t expect to be up for long. He’ll consider this a test run. A little favor shouldn’t bother Bill much; it’ll barely take him a second.
The door to his bedroom creaks as it opens. The living room’s still lit up, though dimmer than usual. Typical for the ‘evening’, or dream realm equivalent. He pushes it open further, stepping out into the light.
And there’s Bill. Sitting in the high-backed chair, facing the fireplace.
He must have wrapped up his ‘business’ to his satisfaction, looking pleased with himself. He swirls a drink in his fingers that shifts color with every turn. The light from the fireplace illuminates the angles of his face, and the curve of his satisfied smirk.
Dipper hesitantly clears his throat. Instantly Bill perks up, head swiveling in his direction like a compass needle to the north.
“Hey there, sapling! What’s up?” Bill asks. He crosses one leg over the other, offering a quick wave. “Thought you were in for the evening.”
“No, not yet.” Dipper says. Already he’s awkward; asking for things and actually getting them still feels weird. “Soon, maybe. But I, uh. Wanted to ask you something first.”
Bill tilts his head back, finishing his drink in one long swig before tossing the glass aside. He gives Dipper a wink, and double finger guns. “Sure, go for it.”
Okay, now. How to phrase this. Hopefully it’s not some kind of offensive ask, and - well, he’s pretty sure Bill’s not doing this on purpose. More like it’s an aura around him, or a knee-jerk reflex. Not always activated, but powerful when it is.
Bill’s still watching him curiously. Waiting for Dipper to speak, in an eerily patient silence.
Here goes nothing. Dipper takes a deep breath.
“I don’t want to have bad dreams, so, uh,” He admits, though it comes out a little rough. He tugs his pajama shirt to straighten it. “Could you…um. Not? For tonight?”
A beat of pause. Bill blinks several times, then says, “That’s not me, kid.”
Oh for - Dipper levels a deeply unimpressed look. Usually Bill’s lies are better. “You’re the lord of nightmares.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m great at designing them, not the source of all of ‘em. You think I got time to get to every being in the multiverse?” Bill says. He catches sight of Dipper’s glare and frowns, lifting his hands to show his own empty palms. “Look, I’m not poking around in your subconscious. Whatdya want, a pinky swear?”
Dipper’s mouth moves, his tongue flicks. The words come out without permission. “Or maybe you’re just not that great.”
He shuts his mouth with a click, almost catching his tongue in the process.
He shouldn’t have said that. Shit, even if he is a little annoyed, he keeps crossing that damned line. Questioning Bill’s power. His capability, his very essence. Surely Bill won’t just ignore it again.
Except Bill does. If anything he looks more amused, starting to snicker as he rises from his seat.
And he does inflict a ‘punishment’. By getting super close and ruffling Dipper’s hair in a super annoying way. Dipper shakes it off, pulling back with a huff. Annoyed, but also - god, he really does have a lot of leeway. It’s insane.
“Hey! I’m definitely the best.” Bill chides, wagging a finger at him. “You just got your perspective wrong! Elements exist on their own! Some guys are just great at manipulating ‘em. You’re not texting the king of fire every time you light a match, y’know?”
“Well,” Dipper says, then stops. When Bill puts it that way -
Not omnipotent. Not omnipresent. Not literally the fabric of the mind itself, either; he should have thought of it before, except he keeps making dumb assumptions.
“Look. You want a custom, hand-delivered nightmare? One that’ll make someone scream their lungs up and claw their own eyes out? Then I’m the best in the biz!” Bill puffs out his chest, smiling wide - then shrugs, looking a little wry. “But any dreamer can have something nasty crawl outta their subconscious. That’s just nature.”
Dipper nods, once. Letting out a sigh, and rubbing at his eyes.
Not the answer he was looking for - but an answer nonetheless.
He’d guessed that Bill wasn’t inflicting them on purpose, sure. Infrequent and random fit ‘accidental’, there wasn’t any pattern he could find. Learning they’re not Bill’s fault at all is surprising - but nice.
…That also means every terrible dream Dipper has had came from his own stupid brain. Going around concocting terrible scenarios and waking him up in a sweat, purely au naturale. Super great.
Simple solutions rarely exist, he guesses.
“Sorry. Or- yeah.” He squirms out from under Bill’s pursuing hand, turning back towards the door. Another bad night isn’t the worst, he’ll live. “I’ll just-”
“Hey, hey! Don’t sweat it, sapling. When it comes to nightmares, you came to the right guy!” Bill interrupts before Dipper can make it more than a foot. He takes him by the shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “I got just the solution for ya. Sweet dreams only, one hundred percent guaranteed.”
Or maybe… Dipper glances back. But Bill just said he wasn’t doing this, so-
“Really. One hundred percent.” That’s an exaggeration if he’s ever heard one. Dipper folds his arms, giving Bill an arch look. “If you’re not making the nightmares, then that means you’re playing defense. You’re telling me you get every single one?”
“Always so cynical! Ninety-nine point nine repeating is mathematically identical.” Bill says primly, already steering Dipper around, pushing him in another direction. “And better odds than you’ll get anywhere else.”
Fine, that’s true enough. Dipper doesn’t have better options. Or any other ones. He might as well see where this leads.
Bill hums behind him, bizarrely delighted by the weird request. Maybe because it’s weird. Maybe because he enjoys the process, somehow? Either way, he seems confident in his ability to pull this off - but when doesn’t he?
Dipper gets maneuvered through the living room, over the carpet, and - into Bill’s master bedroom again. He glances over his shoulder briefly, just before the door shuts behind them.
Wait, what are they doing here?
The room’s just as clean as the first time he entered. There’s no demon corpse, no puddle of ichor or new freestanding door. No photos to be seen. At some point Bill must have tidied up -
Dipper closes his eyes against the mental image. Bill, seeing through all the evidence he left. Knowing it was Dipper who did it. He hasn’t said a word about it, but the guilt lingers.
He almost wishes Bill was mad about it. Or complaining about the mess, or making some wry comment to tease him about his shitty show of espionage. At least then he'd know what Bill is thinking.
Dwelling on his own guilt is interrupted by Bill pushing him forward, then halts suddenly. Leaving Dipper standing at the side of that immense, luxurious bed.
Bill gives his shoulders another pat, then lifts up one edge of the sheets. “Hop on in, kid!” With a little flourishing bow, he flaps the covers. “Get yourself cozy.”
“Uh. Sure.” Dipper hesitates, but. Bill’s nudging him along, so he eventually pulls himself up into the bed and under the opened sheets. They drop on top of him before he’s even fully in the thing, while Bill perkily walks off to another part of the room.
Just as he suspected. It is a great bed.
As Dipper settles back, the mattress is firm but yielding. The pillows mold around his head. The blankets are cooler than the quilts in his own room, almost chilly - but not hard to get used to.
It’s not hard to settle down, waiting for Bill. For a ritual that involves dreams, a bed as the setting makes sense. Though part of him thought Bill would just, like. Snap his fingers, or something. Demon powers, or whatever.
Even without any magic, Dipper’s tired enough to fall asleep right now. But that might mess with whatever Bill’s doing, so. He’ll just. Shut his eyes for a moment.
“Hold tight for a sec! I’ll be with ya in a jiffy,” Bill says, vastly more upbeat than the situation calls for. “Lemme just slip into something more comfortable.”
Dipper’s eyes shoot open. He blinks up at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up. “What do yo-”
His words die before the sentence fully forms. He shuts his mouth slowly. Swallowing with a mouth that’s gone suddenly dry.
Bill’s shirt lies in a silent pile on the floor by his feet. In the firelight, broad shoulders roll as he stretches, casting interesting lines of shadow on the planes of his back.
Dipper drops back down, clutching the blankets like a lifeline.
Okay, wait, maybe he has the wrong idea. Bill’s not, like.
There's a clinking sound. A belt being undone, moving as it slides from its loops - then another as it falls. Followed by a zip, and more soft shuffling of cloth.
Dipper dares a glance. Then instantly grabs one of the other pillows, pulling it over his face.
Okay. Okay, this is - fine and, normal maybe, he doesn’t know how this ritual’s supposed to work. It’s not unheard of to be… unadorned when doing powerful magic, since any enchanted clothing could interfere. Bill’s just getting rid of them before he casts the spell. Everything’s going exactly as it should, and Dipper can throw out that newly-acquired mental picture as totally irrelevant and definitely rude.
The pillow helps. He’s not tempted to look at all, but if he was, it completely blocks his view and most of the sound.
He should be patient, and quiet, and wait for the spell. If it’s strong enough that Bill has to undress to cast it, this will take a while. Dipper has plenty of time to calm back down.
A motion in the covers, as something pulls them up. A deep, pleased sigh, much closer than before - then a large weight sinks the mattress slightly, scooting close with familiar, incorrigible confidence.
Or, the thought appears in Dipper’s mind. There’s no spell. It’s a ward. Which would require the warder’s presence, right. Totally reasonable.
So yes, of course. Bill joined Dipper in bed, just like he said he would like, less than two minutes ago. How that little fact got glossed over was - he stopped thinking straight for a while, that’s all.
The cult didn’t leave Dipper with a huge range of experience, he knows that. Hates it, most days.
But even in that limited scope, he knows some people sleep undressed. He’s seen his share of unfortunate cultists get woken up for morning sermon, only to see them entirely unprepared. That Bill shares that particular proclivity is… honestly not that big a surprise.
“Ah, now that’s nice.” Bill says, voice slightly muffled. There’s a thump near Dipper’s head - probably Bill lying back himself. “You don’t look all that cozy, though. What gives?”
Dipper tells him he’s fine, but he doesn’t know how much of it gets through the down covering.
There’s a pause, then a snort. The blankets shift as Bill adjusts them, drawing them further up.
It really is fine. He’s doing great, he’s comfy, Bill’s going to help him with something and it didn’t seem like any kind of trick. All he has to do is deal with a perfectly normal sleeping habit from a not-at-all normal guy, who’s lying so close Dipper can feel him breathing. Inches away, with his bare skin warming the too-cool blankets.
He can’t hold the pillow this tight forever, though. It’s getting hard to breathe.
Then a thump, just near Dipper’s head; Bill slammed a palm into the mattress. Leaning over him no doubt, with his body covering Dipper’s own. The picture is clear in his mind; he can almost feel the body looming over him. Something gently tugs the pillow, urging it away, and - and Dipper shouldn’t resist, should he? Bill is after something, he’s demanding and forceful, he’ll do anything to get what he wants.
The pillow leaves Dipper’s loose grip, pulled away by a firmer, stronger hand. He lets his arms drop to either side of his head. His breathing picks up.
And Bill is looming over him. Held up by one strong arm, looking amused. His eye bright and half-lidded, his smile sharp and dangerous on his face. Wearing a soft, loose t-shirt, reading ‘Hungry Zixlor’s Burger Joint’.
Dipper reads the shirt, then tilts his head up for another angle. Below that, Bill’s put on the pine tree boxers.
“See? Way more comfy when you can actually aspirate.” Bill says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Dipper rolls onto his side, feeling a rush of annoyance. The hell, he was going to put the stupid pillow down. Bill didn’t have to get all over him just for that.
He feels the bounce as Bill drops back down into bed, cackling to himself at another successful human-annoyance. Dipper’s half-tempted to smack him with the damn pillow, but who knows what that would lead to.
Mini-Bill got lost in the covers somewhere along the line, so Dipper fishes around until he finds it and hugs it to his chest. He lets out a huff, squishing it tight.
Without warning, an arm slips under Dipper’s neck. Another drapes over his waist. If asked later, Dipper will claim he didn’t make a single sound, much less anything undignified.
Instead, he holds very, very still. The arms around him are firm and strong. With the body behind him warming up everything, the blankets suddenly make sense. Bill’s practically a furnace. Anything more insulation and they'd combust.
“Good night, sleep tight,” Bill says, low and close. Dipper shivers, though he isn’t cold. “Don’t let the demons take too big a bite.” Teeth click sharply right next to his ear, and Dipper shivers.
God, of course he wouldn’t just- just let this be calm and nice, he’s Bill friggin’ Cipher. “Jerk,” Dipper mutters, and feels Bill’s chest shake with silent laughter.
The arm around his waist squeezes him tighter, pressing his back fully against Bill’s chest. He can feel it move as he breathes, and the steady pulse of his heart. Between real Bill and mini-bill, they’re practically a set of nesting dolls.
After that… nothing. Bill doesn't taunt anymore, and a few minutes later, Dipper hears him start to snore. Another annoying bit of Bill, and not annoying enough to distract him from everything else. He wishes it would.
Even in sleep, Bill has the nerve to keep breathing and moving, instead of being a warm statue Dipper could ignore. His fingers trail in a mindless, unconscious pattern over Dipper’s stomach, making him bury his face in the pillow. Running through every chant he can remember silently, over and over, especially the ones that are mind-numbingly boring.
None of these ideas are sinful. Bill himself has done more, and worse, than just having two or three concepts flicker through his brain, and Dipper knows it’s not wrong. He does, really.
…Just because it’s not sinful doesn’t mean it’s not awkward.
Dipper keeps his eyes shut. Trying to ignore the pounding of his own heart. There’s a bright, tingling energy in his body, spreading through every part of him, head to toe. It's... inconvenient.
Bill wasn’t lying about preventing nightmares. He’s terribly effective.
Dipper can’t have bad dreams if he doesn’t get any sleep.
#One day I will relearn how to write short things#Today was not that day and tomorrow's not looking good either#By the end of this miniseries I'll have basically written a dang novel#RIP my writing hands#I will now have some chocolate as a reward#Fun Fact: I know I'm finished editing when I reach what I call the 'fuck it phase'#Which is when I'm sick of looking at the dang thing#So here it is!!#This is why it's hard to leave tumblr - not a lot of other sites let you drop huge blocks of text like this
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Imagine going through relationship issues with Spencer and a scare at works sets you both back on the right path
This had been the eighth night in a row you'd slept alone. Opting to sleep in the spare bedroom of the place you and Spencer had bought together. Waking up hurt and sad with your partner was an exhausting way to live, and it was getting to you. The team had been back at the main office for the same amount of time. Having a big bust up on the aftermath of a case meant the journey back on the jet was awkward for everyone involved.
When he hadn't agreed with the way you dealt with the unsub, on top of you both disagreeing on when to start trying for a family. Had left you feeling put down and attacked both in work and in your personal life. Feeling like you couldn't do anything right, and that you were holding him back.
It was made worse by his lack of enthusiasm when you attempted to make amends. Wanting to talk about the issue, but finding it difficult when your boyfriend was a stubborn lump. Shrugging his shoulders and seeming totally disinterested.
After the fourth day of you trying to get through to him. You gave in. Telling yourself that if he wanted to make amends he would. Or he'd realise once it was too late.
Today though, you had a meeting with Garcia, she was going to show you an easier way of accessing some files. The way she does it. Getting yourself up and ready. The house sounded eerily quiet. Spencer did have a habit of impersonating the invisible man when he was home. But still, it was cold and felt empty.
Making your way downstairs, you called out for him, but got no answer.
Realising he wasn't even home. You felt another pang in your chest. Maybe he was done? The thought made your eyes sting. But on checking the time, you would be late to meet Garcia. You grabbed your breakfast out the fridge and grabbed your bag and keys.
Once in the office, you passed the bullring to see Spencer at his desk. Nose deep in some files.
"Hey, what time did you come in? We could have come together." You asked, approaching his desk.
"Early. Didn't want to wake you."
Nodding, you still wanted to push for you both to make up, "did you want to grab lunch somewhere? Would be nice to spend some time with you."
"I'm busy."
"Well I didn't mean right now. Later. When you're free? I'm in Garcias office if you-"
"Y/N, you're here!" Garcia squeaked, "for a moment I thought you were standing me up."
Realising he still wasn't ready to have a decent conversation with you. You gave up, again.
"Never." You smiled at her, before giving Spencer a sad look as he continued to read his papers.
You sat down in Garcias office and fully immersed yourself in the training. Pushing Spencer to the back of your mind.
Around lunchtime you saw Spencer walk past the room and you felt another wave of sadness wash over you.
"So, what's up with you and Sir Smarts-a-lot?" Garcia asked you while you were taking a break.
"There's not really much to tell. We fell out over some serious and not so serious things. I've tried to patch things up. He doesn't want to know. Been trying for like 4 days now."
"I'm sorry. He does seem particularly cranky since you came back from that last case."
"Yeah. Happened while we were out there. I don't even-"
You were interrupted by the sound of shouting from out in the main office. Both you and Garcia looked at each other and wondered who the hell fell out with each other so bad they had to have a screaming match.
Both getting up and wandering down the hall. You just about turned the corner first. But froze in your tracks seeing two people, one with a gun, the other with a briefcase. The woman, with the gun, had the few people that were in the bullring huddled together.
"Shit Garcia go back to your office and lock the door. Call Spence and tell him to stay away. Now!" You whisper shout at her.
"Hey! Put your hands on your head. Get in here Miss now." one of them shouted at you. Not having noticed Garcia as she backed away to her office.
When you didn't move. The seemingly unarmed intruder marched towards you and attempted to grab onto you. As you went to defend yourself. He pulled out a knife and threatened you with it.
"Think very carefully about what you do next." He said lowly.
"What do you guys want. I can help you."
"No you won't. You'll just try and talk me down and I won't let them down again. Get in here or I'm going to make you. And it will hurt."
"What's your name? I'm Y/N. Why are you here? There's no weapons or money stored here. Are you looking for someone?"
"Shut up!" He yelled, you let out a gasp at the sharp pain in your side.
Looking down the blade he was holding embedded in your side. Crumpling down to the floor, you watched as the deep red soaked into your blouse. Spreading across your side.
"What the fuck Darren. You weren't supposed to hurt anyone." A woman came up to the guy and yanked him by his shoulder. "We need to set these charges now and go. Now!"
Charges, that meant explosives.
The pair rushed off and left you bleeding on the floor. Giving you the opportunity to make an escape.
Making it back to Garcias office. You burst through the door, scaring the life out of her.
"Y/N! Oh my god why is there blood. There's a knife hanging out of you."
"Did you speak to Spence?" You asked locking the door behind you.
"Yeah he's in the armory now. They-"
"Call him back! Tell them to abort. Do not come up here!"
"OK, what-why?" She spluttered while calling him back.
"Garcia? Is everything okay. We're just planning how we're going to do this." He answered. You could hear the sound of kevlar being secured. You managed to stumble your way across the room to Garcias desk before your legs gave out.
"Spence, where are you? Do not come up here. And keep people out of the lifts. Do not use them." You panted.
"Y/N are you okay? We haven't left yet. What's going on?"
"I'm fine. I just met the intruders. They're setting charges. Evacuate the rest of the building."
"What? They're going to blow up the building?" Garcia asked, her face paling.
"How big are the explosives?"
"I didn't see. I just managed to get away from them. I did see it was only a small briefcase though."
"That could still be enough to wipe out the whole floor. You need to leave now. Use the far stairwell."
"Garcia, you should go."
"What? I'm not leaving you."
"Both of you go. Now!" Spencer raised his voice.
You shared a look with Garcia, knowing you weren't moving anywhere fast enough.
"We should be okay here," Garcia nodded, "I'll stay with her."
"You're hurt aren't you." Spencer spoke quietly.
"A little bit yeah. Spence, I love you."
"Don't do that. I'm coming to get you."
"No do-" and then the call rang off.
Garcia came and sat next to you. You rested your head on her shoulder.
"I don't get what they were talking about. They said about setting charges. But when the woman saw I'd been stabbed she said they weren't supposed to hurt anyone. How does that make sense." You mutter, starting to feel woozy from the blood loss.
"Unless what they're trying to destroy is paperwork not people," Garcia mused.
"Hotchs office, he keeps loads of important documents in there." You guessed.
"That makes sense. He always takes Sunday's off. So he wouldn't be in there to get hurt."
"Garcia you really should go. Maybe you can get some help." You said quietly. Feeling very lightheaded.
Garcias phone started ringing, answering it she put it on loudspeaker.
"Go ahead. We're just sitting here awaiting our handsome prince's to rescue us."
"Garcia." Spencer answered, "how badly is she hurt? They won't let us get in yet. Not if there's a bomb threat. The whole buildings on lock down. They aren't holding hostages. The other guys from the office have run out already. Are they still there?"
"Woah, woah, woah. One question at a time. Y/N isn't doing great. I don't know what to do Reid. I'm not a doctor. But she's still bleeding."
"What? What happened."
"She got stabbed by one of them. It's still in there but it's-"
"We have to get in there Y/Ns been stabbed. Please. I volunteer to go in. Come on Hotch." He sounded desperate, it made you smile slightly. The irony that it took a near death situation to get him to act like he cared again.
A deafening boom shook the office, jolting you awake.
"Shit was that the-?" You asked.
"I think so." Garcia nodded. "We're okay. Spencer can you hear me?"
You slumped down against Garcias shoulder a bit more. Fighting the urge to fall asleep.
"We saw it. Blown the windows out of Hotch's office as well."
"Tell him..." You trailed off falling into unconsciousness.
Garcia looked at you, panic washing over her. "Y/N? Spencer she's passed out. I don't know what to do- I know I shouldn't take the knife out."
"Is she sat up or laying down?"
"She's sat up, do I lie her down?"
"Yes, don't knock the knife though- I need EMTs with me right now- Garcia, I need you to check if she's breathing." Spencer sounded out of breath, "I'm coming to you as fast as I can."
"Okay, she's laying down. And yes she's breathing."
"You're doing well Garcia. We're seconds away now."
Garcia still let out a scream when the paramedics burst through the door. Stumbling away from your figure, she bumped shoulders with Spencer as the experts dealt with you.
"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Garcia asked him.
"I don't know. But I feel like a prized jackass now. What if she's not? She will have died thinking I was mad at her."
"I don't know what to say Reid. She was trying. She thought you'd stopped trying."
"The argument was stupid. I was more annoyed us arguing had ruined some plans I had."
"Plans? What do you-ohhh." Garcia cut herself off as she clocked onto what Spencer meant.
He quickly pocketed the small jewellery box as the EMT turned to the pair of them.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds spencer reid
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“Are you being serious?”
Fuckboy!hyunjin x reader
Word count;8,001
Summary: You & Hyunjin are finally moving into a positive direction, finals are now here though so you are both trying to focus on that, meaning you both can’t spend so much time with each other unless you both want to go insane. You tell your lecturer how well your assignments are going & he gets the bright idea to let you tutor someone in your class who is struggling a lot & is in desperate need of help… that being Hyunjins friend, Han Jisung.
18+, MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT.
main masterlist here
part 1 here & part 2 here
ALL WARNINGS: Jealous Hyunjin, Jealous reader, Possessive Hyunjin, voyeurism??, recording, spit, creampie, fingering, oral(m rec), body worship, PIV, unprotected sex, marking, begging, dirty talk, praise, angst & fluff, crying after sex, brief aftercare (more happens off screen), soft hyunjin
-> reader is described as Hyunjins girlfriend & 'she/her' pronouns are used a few times but its brief<3
->This isn’t proofread so if there’s any errors i apologise mwah x
In the month running up to finals, you have been absolutely drowned in assessments & of course you need to pass, so for that reason, you n Hyunjin haven't spent as much time together. You do both study together every once in a while but you work a lot better on your own & he respects that, leaving you to it as he studies in his own free time.
You have both been doing well in the sense your feelings have grown for one another but college is still the same, Hyunjin still being the bubbly person, sitting with his large group of friends while you sit further at the back, but to give him credit he does openly choose to work with you for random partner tasks (which half of the girls in the same course a you now resent you for) & he brings you a drink at least once a day.
You've just submitted one of your last essays (which you're proud of of course) & now you can relax a whole lot more than you were before... until your lecturer asks you if you would like an extra few credits.
You of course say yes, knowing it will definitely help if for some reason you get marks taken off for your other grades, not thinking it would be too hard to complete, that is until he tell you what you need to do.
"Jisung has been really struggling y/n, you can really help him & I know you can since you've never had below a ninety. Don't feel pressured please, but I'm sure he would really appreciate it." He says to you, giving you a pleading look.
You sigh before just nodding your head, not wanting to let your professor down, but also don't want someone in your class to fail simply because you couldn't be bothered to help him.
You know he's really good friends with Hyunjin, him mentioning a few times & they have always sat beside one another, loving to piss off everyone around them. You know he doesn't take anything too seriously but you would feel more guilty if you didn't at least try.
"Thank you y/n. I'll be sure to tell him when I next speak to him one on one. I'll see you tomorrow & I'll have him come talk to you, if he gives you a hard time though by being an idiot, don't be afraid to stop helping him, you're not being forced." He says to you in a cheery voice as he fixes his papers, messy all over his desk. You say your goodnights to each other & you leave the building, making the short journey home.
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You get home & of course Hyunjin is already waiting for you, Tuesdays being the one day a week you promises you would spend time together, regardless of the busy schedules.
"Took you long enough, thought you had fell asleep in the damn hall. What was it he was talking to you about? I'd rather swallow a whole potato in one go than waste my time talking to that guy outside of hours, that guy hates me." Hyunjin questions, not looking up at you for more than a second as he stirs the pasta he is cooking for the both of you.
" He hates you because you made that mans hair go grey with the stress you've causes him n trust me, I almost did, we were talking about how I'm preparing for finals, he also asked me to help one of your friends with a whole lot of it." you sigh as you kick your shoes off & putting your bag on the coat peg hung up on the wall, on the tiny bit of free space that Hyunjins multiple jackets & hoodies now clogging up.
"Really? wait taste this, n who is it? Half my friends are dumbasses so you've got your work cut out, good luck to ya." Hyunjin jokes as he holds up the wooden spoon to your lips, his other hand underneath the spoon to catch any droplets.
You taste it n let out a hum of approval which makes him smile before turning around to continue stirring a few more times before going into your cupboard to grab two plates. "Your friend Jisung! I'm surprised he asked me out of all people, I've only had one actual conversation with him n that was during freshers, I only remember because he was wearing those glasses of his & kept bursting out into song randomly." you chuckle as you recall the memory, getting you both a glass before going into your fridge to grab the bottle of prosecco you bought yesterday just for this occasion.
Hyunjin stops his movement for a second before replying with a 'mhmm' & you don't think too much of it, grating some cheese before putting it on the coffee table in your living room rambling about random stuff, but his mind doesn't move. "So about Jisung, did you say yeah to helping him?" he asks, setting both of your plates down on the small table before grabbing two cushions off your couch n placing them on the floor, patting it for you to sit down next to him.
"Yeah, I agreed because I've only got a few more things to do n I'll be finished, I'd feel guilty for saying no, I can't let him just fail the entire course because I couldn't be bothered you know? If what you're worried about is that I won't have time for you, you're wrong, I'll still be seeing you on Tuesdays regardless." You reply in an your usual tone, giving Hyunjin a peck on the cheek as you thank him for the pasta before picking up your fork & taking a bite.
"Jisung.. Isn't someone you wanna try teach, It's a waste of your time, you should probably pass on the offer. You should help me! I'm sooo stuck on the power point." he responds, his voice monotone, trying to hide how pissed he actually is.
"Hyune, we both know you're not struggling, you only have like two more things to do so stop being silly, n besides, I get a few extra credits if I do it so it will be worth it." you say after swallowing a bite, looking at him & that's when you realise his body language, completely giving away the fact he is now in a sulk as he purses his lips at what you say, not verbally replying to you.
"Hyunjin, what's up with you, hmm? You were so happy when I got home, is something bothering you?" you ask him, putting your fork down. "It's just.. Jisung is just gonna try get in your pants y/n. I know what he's like, if he actually gave a fuck about this grade, he woulda tried way before now, he has a music career now so he doesn't even need college." he says, pointing his fork at you & swaying it around as he speaks, his voice serious despite him trying to sound unbothered.
You just look at Hyunjin, honestly confused on where this attitude has came from. "Just because he might have another career once he leaves, doesn't mean he doesn't wanna pass, Hyune. He won't 'get in my pants' I don't even know him or anything about him apart from what you've told me." a tinge of annoyance in your voice now, not at all liking what he has to say.
"Alright." he mumbles as he begins eating, not wanting to discuss it further so you ignore it, moving onto a different conversation, which makes his mood slightly better than it was before.
Hyunjin leaves an hour or so later, after helping you wash up & cuddling with you until you were dozing off. You give him a sheet of notes you had written earlier in that day just for him to help him with his own essays, changing the wording a whole bunch so he wouldn't accidentally write something similar to you have done, which he can't help but blush at the thoughtfulness. He leaves your apartment in the same mood when you first came home earlier on.
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You're walking to your morning class after grabbing a drink from the cafeteria when you hear someone calling your name from behind you over the music of your headphones, you turn around to see Jisung being the reason your name is being said, his dorky little smile looking back at you as he walks up to you.
"Hi y/n, in case you didn't know but I'm Jisung n I just wanna say thank you for helping me with all of this, means loads to me." he says, giving you an awkward chuckle as his hand rubs against the nape of his neck.
"Don't worry about it, just don't make it a waste of my time, I still need to do loads of my own stuff so I won't be waiting around for you." responding in a cold tone as you put your headphones on again before walking to your class.
You take your own unofficial seat & just go on your phone, not paying much attention to the things going on around you, blocking out the multiple conversations going on around you.
You look down to the right corner of the auditorium & notice Hyunjin isn't sitting in his own usual spot.
You; Where r u? u okay?
Hyune<3: yea, just slept in lol, just take pics of what u write n i can use that, ill probs be in after break
You begin texting a response when the chair next to you is pulled out & someone sits beside you, you look to your left & Han is smiling at you, pulling his books out of his bag & placing them on the desk.
"Sir told me to come n sit beside you since he is helping yuna right now n he doesn't have time to re-explain it all to me. You still okay to help me, right?" He blurts out, looking at you with his boba eyes, you just nod your head & he smiles.
Jisung begins to show you where he's at on each part of the assessments he needs to do & shows you the very few notes he has actually been bothered to write down.
"You've only wrote this..? for an entire years worth of work this is all you have to help you?" yo snort as you hand back his notepad, your eyebrows raised. "I thought it wouldn't be this intense!" he responds, his voice whiney.
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You spend the next hour roughly explaining how to do the main parts of everything & you were writing down a few things for him since you realise he is a painfully slow writer, but you choose to hold your tongue since you think he is actually listening since he is actually asking you a question ever so often.
The time hits quarter past eleven so you grab your little blue money purse before standing up to leave for your break when Jisung moves his chair out so you can't leave. "Y/n, could I get your number or something? so I can text you.. about the work! of course." Han asks you as he stands up to face you fully.
"Awk yeah that would make sense, alright." you take one of your pens off the desk & open the cap before grabbing Jisungs hand before you write your number on it & then squeezing yourself past him, walking up the rest of the stairs to leave but he runs up to you again to begin walking with..well, behind you, ignoring his friends at the other end of the room shouting his name.
"Thanking you y/nnie, I can call you y/nnie right? anyways what's your plans for after college hours? Do you have a job you gotta get to? Any sorta clubs? I get the vibe you definitely are a part of... an art class. I woulda said book club but I feel as if that's too basi-" "You talk so much, holy shit. My plan is to finish what I need to finish tonight or tomorrow so I'll have time to actually help you" you cut off, rolling your eyes as you begin walking one of the common area benches, Jisung still trailing behind you.
You sit down & Jisung settles himself beside you, smiling at his friends whenever they walk past, talking your ear off as you just stare at him, not paying attention.
A minute later, You turn away from Jisung & lean your head against the wall in annoyance , Jisung now talking about how he lived in Malesia & almost got eaten by an alligator when your eyes scan the area & that's when you notice Hyunjin strolling towards you. You lean back upright & smile n wave at him & he smiles back, until Han pops his head out from behind you to see who you're waving at, your body no longer covering him from the way you're both sitting.
Hyunjin reaches you but doesn't sit down, instead standing in front of both of you. "Heya y/n, hi jisung, what you both talking about." Hyunjin says in a weird tone of voice, sounding slightly off standish. "Couldn't tell ya, sir didn't really go over anything new so I didn't write anything down to give you, he was just answering others questions, come sit." you say as you pat the spot beside you but he doesn't budge, feet staying glued to the floor, hi eyes moving to now look at the man sitting beside you.
"So if he was answering questions all day, why'd you not just ask him for help on what to do? Why are you putting more on y/ns plate?" Hyunjin spits to jisung, his facial expressions scarily neutral. "Because he would spend an entire day explaining it to me! I asked y/n a million times if it's fine n it's fine! y/n doesn't mind it." Han whines back, throwing his hands around & that's when Hyunjin notices your number drawn onto his hand.
Hyunjin looks at it then back at the both of you before scoffing. "Point is, you don't give a fuck about passing, I'm not stupid. I'll see you later." he speaks in the same cold tone, tapping your head condescendingly before walking away & down the hall out of sight.
"What the hell is his problem, he has such an attitude." you murur, mostly to yourself but Jisung responds anyway. "dunno, maybe stress." feigning innocence.
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Hyunjin walks into class, blood boiling. He sits on the opposite side than he usually does & puts his headphones on, basically throwing the items in his bag onto his desk before logging into his computer & pulling up his word document.
He doesn't look up at any of the noise around him, other students for some reason spending their break in the same room they've been sitting in for four hours now until someone taps his head before pulling his headphones off his head.
"Nice song, what's it called?" Lisa chimes as Hyunjin turns around, relaxing when he sees it's just her & not a random person trying to piss him off. "You're still on your essay? y/n handed hers in already, didn't your little girlfriend feel like helping you out?" she remarks, sitting on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs while she looks down at him.
"y/n.. isn't my 'girlfriend' so to speak n anyways, we both agreed to do it on our own since y/n concentrates better that way n i've learned that so do I, so if you could leave Lisa i'd like that." he responds, his tone sounding more rude than he intended.
"Who pissed in your cereal Hyunjin, jeez. That sucks, I'd love for you to help me, I'm further behind than I wanted to be, can I borrow your notes at least? & you sure y/n works better on her own? She was helping Jisungie a wholeeee bunch earlier." she speaks back, sweet toned, the smile not wiping off her face for even a second, picking up his notepad & flicking through it.
"Mhmm, just take it n give it back at the end of the day. I told y/n helping Jisung is a waste of time but sir n Jisung both wormed their way into her brain knowing she would feel too guilty for saying no, she didn't listen to me, she's too kind." he replies, not bothering to look up at Lisa despite feeling her eyes almost burning two holes into his side profile.
"Clearly not too kind if she can't listening to her own boyfriendddd" she teases, ruffling up his hair. "I told you, we aren't officially together, you taking my notes or no? I have stuff to do Lisa." he snarks as he finally actually looks up at her as she jumps off the desk, jotter in hand.
"I know, just wanted to hear you confirm the fact. I would ask you to send me the notes but you've blocked my number, y/n has you so bitched, didn't think I'd see the day." Hyunjin just rolls his eyes as Lisa says this but he sees you & Jisung walking back into the room, six or seven levels above & he gets an idea.
He rolls his chai out, blocking Lisas path as he looks up at her, a puzzled look on her face. "If you say please, I'll think about unblocking youuu." he taunts, his pretty smile showing on his face. Lisa looks up at you in your usual seat, noticing your quick glances down back at them, trying to not make it too obvious before looking back down at Hyunjin. "Pretty please, Jinnie?" she responds, battering her eyelashes as she ruffles his hair again.
He chuckles before moving out of the way, letting her past. As she leaves, he murmurs a 'next joke, fuck that' to himself, internally cringing at the conversation between them before pressing play on his spotify again & doing his work.
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The day finally ends & you are quick to get out of the room, not being surprised if steam was coming out of your ears with how pissed you are. You noticed Lisa & Hyunjin speaking & you were unable to concentrate from that moment on. 'Why was she touching him?' 'Why was he flirting with her?' 'what a fucking dick' keep bursting into your mind & you honestly want to punch them both in the face.
Hyunjin gets his notepad back from Lisa & walks away without saying much of anything to her, trying to catch up to someone in particular... Jisung.
He knows his schedule like the back of his hand & it doesn't take much walking or time to find him, sitting on a small ledge waiting for the main music room to be unlocked for him, Chris & Changbin, eating a packet of skittles, filling his chubby cheeks while just idly looking around.
"Heya Hyunjin, you alright?" He questions, pulling his legs closer to his chest so Hyunjin can sit down opposite him, which he does. "Been better, got a question for you though." he sighs, leaning forward to dig his hand into Jisungs packet & takes out a handful of skittles, dumping the green ones back into the packet.
"Go f'r it." he speaks, words muffled as he pours more into his mouth. "What you doing with y/n? I pretty much made it clear to stay away, so what is your problem? You coulda asked anyone to help you but I know you went to sir n specifically asked for y/n's help, you can't fool me I've known you too long." he questions, his voice sounding far too normal for it to be comfortable.
"You didn't tell me shit, n I'm not a toddler, what makes you think you can tell me what to do? You're not actually together together so why can't I simply speak to her?" he remarks, smirking at him knowing he is getting under his skin as he throws his empty food wrapper at the bin but missing, making him kiss his teeth.
Hyunjin scoffs at his words, in disbelief. "Han stop being a dick, y/n is mine n it's that simple so just fuck off, I've never told you to leave anyone fuck alone until now so just do it? It's not difficult believe it or not." Hyunjin snaps back, getting more annoyed as the clock ticks by, not bothering to keep his tone quiet as another student walks by every once in a while.
"Yea n we also agreed we wouldn't cockblock each other yet here you are, you guys aren't official which you said yourself so it's fair game. You can't claim someone if you're still flirting with your other little side pieces, me & y/n saw you n Lisa earlier. You seriously wanna get rid of everyone else you see for one person? Next joke." he replies, his voice raising at the end, honestly enjoying how pissed off Hyunjin is getting, his face getting more & more red.
"Lisa is literally nothing to me n yea-" Hyunjin is cut off as Changbin n Chan swivel around the corner, all smiles. "Heya Hyunjin, not seen you in ages, Jisung I got the key so we can go in now, you coming Hyun?" Chan questions as he turns his back to unlock the door.
"Nah, I'm busy n got things to do, I'll speak to you all later." Hyunjin replies, squishing Changbins cheeks playfully, trying to ease any tension the others are starting to sense, before walking off, his breathing intense as he leaves the building & pretty much speed walking home.
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He enters his complex building & storms up the multiple flights of stairs, skipping a step or two each time. He turns the corner & sees you sitting on his doormat, both of you making eye contact.
You stand up & wipe any dirt that could be on you as Hyunjin sighs, stopping in front of you as he moves one of his headphone speakers, not even bothering to fully pull them off.
"Are you gonna speak to me n tell me what's wrong with you Hyunjin?" You speak out, placing your hands on your hips. "Do you seriously not know what you've done? Give me a fucking break. Move, I want to get inside." he spits back before trying to worm his way around you but you stop him.
"Hyunjin what the fuck is your problem? I've done jack shit n yet you're treating me as if I'm an annoyance to you! I'm not leaving till I get an answer." you yell back, getting even more pissed at his attitude.
"I'm not even going to bother arguing with you, especially in my fucking hallway y/n, get inside." He spits out as he pushes your arm away & unlocks his door before entering, not bothering to shut it as he knows you're gonna end up following him.. which you do.
You shut his door behind you & chase behind him as he walks into his bedroom & throwing off his hoodie, not even acknowledging you as he does his usual routine.
"So you gonna explain or what? Also turn around when I speak to you, don't be so fucking rude Hyunjin." you utter, speaking to his back as he doesn't even bother looking at you.
"Got nothing to explain. You gonna tell me why you wrote your number on Jisungs arm when I specifically told you what he would be actually wanting from you & after telling you it would be a complete waste of time?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns around to look back at you, leaning on his desk.
You raise your eyebrows at him, not being able to hold back the shocked laugh at his words. "Are you being fucking serious? First of all Hyunjin, I'm not a kid that you can boss around n second of all, I only gave him my number so he can ask me about anything he needs & I'm basically finished everything I need to do for finals so I don't fucking care about helping your friend out a bit!" you yell back, your heart beginning to race.
"It's fucking obvious he was flirting with you y/n?! Are you really that naive to fucking see it? Sorry to be the one to tell you but it's true." he replies, swinging his arms around & pointing as he speaks.
"So fucking what if he was? It changes absolutely nothing since I'm not interested! But if you want to speak about flirting, you're a huge fucking hypocrite since you were basically drooling over Lisa earlier & you knew I was watching! Your attitude is disgusting & if you're acting like this when we aren't even official then what makes you think that is what I want? You're straight up immature." you shout, your voice going a bit raspy & your hands shaking.
"I did that because I was fucking hurt about what you were doing! & I know we aren't officially together but you haven't been acting as if you want to be with me! You don't even listen to me y/n when I know what the hell I'm talking about. I chosen you for me to actually try get into a relationship with but I'm thinking it's not worth it." he cries out, tears threatening to leave his eyes as he says this, shouting back at you.
"Are you trying to insinuate I'm 'lucky' to be in this position with you, get off your fucking high horse holy shit! I didn't flirt with Han at all but you can't say the same about you & Lisa, how am I supposed to trust you if you act like this over something so small? This isn't even fucking worth it Hyunjin, I'm not going to let you see me as if I'm beneath you." you respond, your voice going monotone at the end as you shake your head at him before turning around to leave, realising this conversation is getting nowhere.
Hyunjin is quick to step across his room & get between you & the bedroom door, blocking you from leaving. "When the hell did I say you're beneath me? Why can't you see how upset I am over all of this? I want to be with you in the future but you are just throwing it back in my fucking face? Do you just like the attention or something? Is that why you just straight up refused to listen to me?" he questions, looking right into your eyes with his own, his eyes being similar to how they looked when he came to your house & confessed to you not too long ago, but with anger mixed in along with them this time.
"You're fucking joking, right? What 'attention' am I getting other than you yelling in my face about it? Stop being such a jealous prick Hyunjin, the future isn't now so you don't have this 'claim' on me like you think you do, as much as I want it & how much you claim yo want to, we aren't fucking dating & you wanna know why I think you're trying to hold back? Is because you like the attention & you won't be able to fuck anyone else without it being considered cheating! Come back to me when you can sort your jealousy & other issues out." You scream at him, a tear or two falling down your cheeks but you're quick to wipe them away, not looking right at him as you speak.
Hyunjin cackles at our words before yet again stopping you from being able to leave, putting his hand on the door handle. "You speak so much stuff that you're convinced you know all about but you couldn't be so wrong it's honestly a joke. I don't want anyone else but you & I've made it so clear since the start, You expect me to not be jealous when someone is fawning over you.. what's mine? Acting as if your blood doesn't boil when anyone flirts with me? You being so pissed about Lisa is a prime example. Stop acting like you're any better than me, that you're not just as possessive over me, you just don't wanna seem like a psycho about it." He replies, his tone still full of venom but no longer yelling at you, tonguing his cheek.
"Why wouldn't I be jealous? I'm clearly threatened by all the girls who drool over you, even more so because I'm not similar to those girls, I'm not as confident or straight up ballsy as them! But the way you've gone about everything is so wrong Hyunjin." You cry, voice lowering to match his but the tears not fully stopping & he takes his finger to wipe them away, pouting.
"I'd be lying if I said you admitting you're jealous isn't hot, but stop fucking worrying, I wouldn't give you the time of day if I wasn't one hundred percent sure. Stop crying too, you don't need to. But being for real, y/n, sto-" He is cut off as your phone begins ringing in the back pocket of your jeans & Hyunjins arm is quick to swing around & pull it out before reading the nameless number, Hyunjin hands it to you with his eyebrows raised, already knowing who it is.
You answer the phone & It's obviously Jisung, who doesn't even give you time to say anything before asking you a whole bunch of questions, saying he is 'stuck' on what to do.
As Jisung speaks, Hyunjin taps the 'speaker' button before ushering you towards his bed, his smirk not leaving his face. You look up at him with confused eyes as the back of your knees hit the bed, making you sit on it before Hyunjin pushes on your shoulder so you're laying fully down, your feet still on the floor of his room before getting on top of you & moving your head to the side before nuzzling his face in your neck, beginning to nibble at it, making you tense up beneath him & your breath hitches.
"Jisung can I call you ba-" You're cut off by Hyunjin nibbling down on your neck as he mumbles a 'nuh uh' & your hand reaches up to pull on Hyunjins hair & he does his best to hold back a groan, his hand slithering down to your jeans, unbuttoning the button after around thirty seconds of trying & then using his hand & legs to push them down just far enough for acccess.
He begins to allow his finger to graze over the outside of your pussy, feeling the fabric of your panties, not failing to feel over the small wet patch now visible as he sucks a dark purple hickey into the crook of your neck & your eyes scrunch together as you bite your lip, trying to not make a sound.
"I did the first two paragraphs but I'm stuck on what quotes to use, I think the ones I've chosen are too short to keep writing about, what quotes did you choose?" Han questions on the other end of the phone but you're barely paying attention as the man above you now wriggles his fingers under your panties, now drawing small circles on your clit, making you gasp.
"You can't use t-the same quotes I use J-jisung, read what you've chose o-out to me." you stutter out, hips grinding against Hyunjins fingers as best as you can with the position you're in.
Jisung begins to read out his quotes & Hyunjin can't help but let out a small chuckle, half at how hard Han is trying but the other half being at how hard you're trying to remain coherent, so he steps up his actions. He cups your pussy before dragging his hand down to your dripping hole & entering two fingers in, a small squelch being heard & your legs tense up even more as you melt into his lips, still suckling hickey after hickey into your neck.
"Y/n? Am I breaking up? We can meet up if you want & you can go over it, I know a café we can meet at if you're free?" He requests & Hyunjin breaks away from you neck to reply for you. "y/n is busy, figure it out." he remarks as he hangs up before turning your phone off & tossing it to the side.
"Didn't know you're into that, y/nnie, you're so wet just from a few touches? So dirty." he remarks, smirking at you before locking his lips with yours, his tongue tasting your own before he even gives you time to respond & you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.
His fingers begin to hit against your G-spot as he uses a 'come here' motion as his thumb begins to rub your clit from side to side, making you whine into his mouth, making him smirk.
You move your arm down, dragging your nails down the front of him & over his abs over his shirt before beginning to palm his cock over his joggers, making his hips jerk forward before changing your position by rolling himself onto the bed & pulling you so you're straddling him, his fingers leaving your cunt as he does so, making you whince.
You begin grinding over his covered hard on after kicking your jeans fully off, you being left in just your shirt & panties. "Maybe you're the dirty one Hyune, can't resist touching me while your friend is on the phone hmm?" You finally have the chance to reply & Hyunjin chuckles as his hands come down to your ass, fondling the skin. "Oh but I can resist, but why would I when it's funny to hear him try ask you out while disguising it as 'studying' while you're at my house currently half naked?" he replies instantly, biting his lip as your wetness is now soaking through your panties & leaving a small spot on his clothes, staining them.
You roll your eyes before you pull his shirt off his body, messing up his hair a bit before you slither yourself off the bed & onto his carpeted floor & tugging on his joggers, his hips raising to help you remove them, leaving him in only his underwear.
"You're being bold for someone who couldn't take more than a quarter of my cock last time you sucked it, you trying to train yourself for Jisung?" he teases, resting his bodyweight on his elbows, looking down at you as you pull his hardened cock out, pumping it slowly in your hand.
"Maybe I just didn't want to take any more seeing since I have no idea where it's been." you spit back, looking up at him as you smirk, your bottom lip in between your teeth as you let a glob of spit escape your lips & fall onto his pretty pink tip. He opens his mouth to respond but you cut his words out of his chest by licking a long strip from just above his base to his tip before letting the tip fall past your lips, suckling on it softly, making him hiss.
You let your tongue swirl against his tip before you begin dipping your head lower, allowing your mouth to take part of his shaft in your mouth too. You are still a bit nervous since it's only your second time sucking cock but Hyunjins words fuel you to prove to him you can take it all, so as he is taking a deep breath out, hand holding your hair out of your face, you force your head down further so over half of his cock is now in your mouth & you hollow your cheeks, making his toes curl & have to consciously try not jerk his hips into your mouth.
"You been practicing y/n? Doing so well, taking it so g-good, so pretty." he groans, lightly slapping your cheeks, feeling his cock through the skin of your cheek, giving him butterflies.
You begin to bob your head up & down his cock as you use your hand to jerk him off in the same rhythm, making his grip in your hair tighter as his groans & hisses get more frequent, making you convinced you're probably leaking your own wetness onto the floor you're situated on.
You let yourself off his cock to catch a breath as you let all the spit that's formed in your mouth get dribbled back onto his cock if it hasn't already fell past your lips & you look up at him with glossy eyes as you pump him at a faster pace, his cheeks blown out & now breathing out his mouth.
"Only practice I've gotten is off the pretty boy I'm looking at right now." you chuckle, honestly having no idea where the confidence is coming from before you blow cold air onto his tip, making him yelp & scrunch his eyes shut before leaning forward to pull you back onto the bed.
"I refuse to cum before fucking you" he mumbles, out of breath as he kisses you again, full of tongue. "Open your mouth." he hushes as he breaks away from your lips, fingers playing with your folds over your panties again, his wet cock against your thigh.
You do as he says & he spits into your mouth, humming as you swallow it, nothing but lust in both of your eyes. "Such a slut deep down, aren't you? You want more? Your hips can't fucking stay still." he chuckles, biting his lip as he looks down at the sight below, your lower half squirming to try get more friction & you just whine.
"Hyune.. Please give me it, don't I deserve it?" You question, seduction tinging your voice & Hyunjin can't stop the feeling of his cheeks & ears going hot, the way you're currently talking making his head spin.
He stands up & pulls you towards the edge of the bed, still laying on your back as he peels off your soiled underwear, your pussy glistening & his mouth waters, deciding to spit right onto your clit, making you whine.
He pushes your legs that little bit further apart before situating himself between them, jerking himself slowly while looking down at you. "How bad do you want it, hmm? tell me how much you want it, pretty." he speaks, not looking away from your pretty face as he hits his tip against your clit, making a tiny, sticky slapping noise. "Hyune I deserve it, want it so much, don't I? Look how wet I am for you." you whine, fingers trailing down to spread your lips, exposing your hole to him.
Hyunjin groans at the action , his cock twitching as he aligns himself up with your entrance. "Say it one more time, didn't quite hear you." he replies, hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he drags his cock up & down your folds. "Hyunjin please just put it in! I need it s-" Your cries are cut off as he pushes his tip past your hole & sheaves into you until his pretty, full & heavy balls are against your skin, making you gasp.
"You're so tight, Jisung not fucking you right?" He asks, trying to sound calm & collected when in reality he is trying to not cum on the spot, your warm, wet walls wrapping around his dick perfectly. "t-stop winding me up hyune, please move." you whine in response, making Hyunjin smirk as he retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.
He sets a slow but powerful pace, small squelching noises & both of your whines & grunts filling not only his bedroom but the entire apartment. "For someone wh-who's such a fu-fuckboy, you're not fucking me l-like one." You struggle but get the words out, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine & it works as he grunts before pushing the backs of your thighs up against your chest before beginning to pound into you, making you squeal.
"You wanna try repeat that for me, hmm? You're saying that as if anyone can fuck you like this but me, your cunt is mine, can't your brain understand that or are you just too much of a whore to only want one dick?" He snaps at you, his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat as he abuses your cunt, his thumb reaching down to your cunt, making you yelp & your hips begin meeting his thrusts halfway.
You shake your head but he isn't happy with that response & he grabs your face by the cheeks, forcing you to look up at him as he leans forward. "Words, y/n, where did your boldness go, hmm? Who's pussy is this? Tell m-me." He asks, breath quick & short as he doesn't slow down for even a second, letting out a hiss as you reach up to his back & digging your nails into him on accident, for sure leaving marks later but none of you bothering to care.
"Y-y-yours! Hyun-jin I'ma c-cum." you screech, brain going completely blank, your body almost exploding with sensation. Hyunjin smirks at you before standing upright again, continuing his assault on your swollen cunt. "Cum for me then, show me how good I-I make you feel, Only I can do this for you, can't I? Only I know how to m-make you feel so good, you look so beautiful under me, you need to see." he groans back at you, throwing his head back momentarily before looking back down at you as you cum around his cock, wriggling & squirming as it washes over you, your knuckles going white from the grip you have on his bedsheets.
He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you breathless before he pulls out. You don't have much time to question it however as he pulls out of you & grabbing your phone off the floor before returning to you.
"Gonna show you how fucking hot you look, It's on your phone so it's just for your eyes, no stress." He says, breathless as he turns on the video option before pressing record & sliding himself back into you, your orgasm forming a white ring around his base.
You clench around his thick cock, partly from overstimulation as he begins pumping into you again, chasing his own release now. The camera is pointed at you so you decide to act up a little, pulling your shirt above your tits, exposing your hardened buds to the camera & cold air of the room, making Hyunjin whine. "Look how beautiful you are y/n, you're anything & everything I could e-ever fucking want, taking me so well, I've t-trained you to take my c-cock so well." he says in a husky voice, his throat now dry as he continues ogling you, looking down at your swollen, reddened pussy, dragging the phone down to let the screen get a good look too, watching it tense & clench around him, making his knees almost buckle.
His eyes widen as your fingers move up to your pretty tits as you begin playing with your own nipples, tugging & pulling on them before raising your fingers to Hyunjins lips & he gladly suckles on them, moaning onto them before you pull them out of his mouth & caress your now spit covered nipples softly.
"You like the c-camera, beautiful? You-you're so dirty, so p-perfect for me. Turn your pretty face to the side, show the camera w-what you let me do to you y/nnie" He groans, his voice high pitched & squeaky & you do as he says instantly, not fully processing what he meant or said as he move the camera upwards, showing the purple marks he has inprinted on your skin.
"G-gonna cum y/n." he forces the words out & before you even realise, you're wrapping your legs around his waist & pulling him towards you. He tosses the phone to the side again before falling onto his elbows on each side of your head & you use the rest of your strength to tilt your head up enough to connect your lip to his neck & you begin pinching the skin of his neck with your teeth & you suck a big purplish red mark into his neck as his own orgasm washes over him.
He melts into your skin as his orgasm fills you, coating your walls & giving you goose bumps. You let him fully lay on you as you softly kiss his neck & earlobe, letting him catch his breath back as you also try relax your own breathing.
You lay like this for a minute or two in complete silence as you now begin playing with Hyunjins wet hair, before tears start leaving your eyes. You begin to sniffle & Hyunjins brain switches itself back on as he pushes his head up from your neck to look at you, now crying.
"Y/nnie, why are you crying? Did I hurt you?" He begins to panic as he moves off of you to start checking you but you sit up too, basically following him as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him back down to you.
"Just stay here f'r a bit, Hyune I'm sorry, I didn't know how upset I would make you." you sniffle, not looking right at him as he looks at your reddened face, his heart hurting. "I'm sorry too, I don't want you to feel insecure, I was being stupid. Can we.. go on a proper date? I know it's not the most romantic time or place to ask but I was n still am serious about only wanting you y/n, I mean it, pinkie swear." He asks you in a soft voice & he holds out his pinkie to you & you can't help but let out a small giggle as you interlock them together then kissing your thumbs before locking in the promise.
"Took you long enough to fucking ask me." You reply as you wipe the tears off your cheeks, reaching up to kiss Hyunjin on the cheek & his already red cheeks get an even darker shade.
"Better late than never, Stay here n I'm gonna get us a drink n we can go for a bath." He kisses your forehead before getting off of you but he takes the time to shuffle you up to his pillows & laying your head on it as he grabs his bed throw & lays you under it so you're not just sitting there, before leaving the room dancing & singing.
"Y/n & Hyunjin sitting in a tree" He sings out loud as he walks around his house & you can't help but laugh. "Stop singing that or I'll change my mind!" You yell & he shuts up instantly (not including the whine of protest he yells back), making you laugh to yourself.
I'm not completely sure I want to do a fourth part to this so in case this is actually the finale, I really hope everyone who has taken the time to read it has enjoyed reading the past 3 parts as much as I enjoyed writing them & thank you for all the kind words! <3
TAGS: @tsunderelino @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada
#skz smut#stray kids#hyunjin#skz hyunjin#hyunjin smut#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x reader#stray kids imagine#straykids x reader#straykids#skz imagines#skz#hyunjin stray kids#kpop smut#smut
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Hi ! m a little shy so sorry for talking in anon 😊I was wondering, after I saw you opend reneé request. If you would want to write about ReneéReader (fem, obviously)where Reneé ADHD and anxiety are a little too much and Reader comforts then
Swirling Thoughts ||
|| Renée Rapp x fem!reader
|| Warnings: reader & Renée getting drunk, Renée struggling with anxiety, first time writing for Renée, short drabble (no part 2), light swearing, slight homophobia
|| Summary: Renée's meeting reader's parents for the first time, safe to say she's nervous as shit. Reader helps her through it.
Requests open!
Started: May 12th
Finished: May 13th
~~~
You and Renée have been together for a few months now, the public didn't know and neither did either of your parents. You had kept your relationship pretty secretive. Knowing the kind of chaos that could come with revealing it. You had kept it so secret that no one even knew the two of you were associated with each other until you were ready for them to know.
You were famous for your own works, such as the various shows you'd acted in and the two songs you had released. Music wasn't your main focus, but after a single scene of you singing for a show aired... people begged for more. For you it was more of an extra cash grab that accidentally went more viral than you planned for; which was how you had caught the attention of Renée Rapp.
The two of you were currently laid entangled with each other on the couch, watching a movie in your apartment. Renée had suggested watching one of your older movies and every time you appeared on screen, the two of you would take a shot. So that's what you'd been doing for the last hour an a half.
By this point, you were drunkenly giggling. Head on Renée's shoulder as you looked into her eyes. She wasn't quite as drunk as you, but she was definitely there.
"What, baby?" She asked in a soft tone when she noticed your eyes on hers.
"Nothing~ you're just really pretty." You whispered, a faint pink hue formed on her cheeks when she heard you. She'd never get tired of hearing you compliment her.
"Mm? If I'm pretty what does that make you?" Renée flirts back, hand coming up to your cheek and giving it a gentle rub.
You simply shrugged at her question, not finding an answer to it which made Renée raise an eyebrow.
"Baby, you're fucking stunning." She tells you, now you were the one blushing. Then a thought came across your mind, you wanted to know what she would think of it but you didn't know if you guys were at that stage yet.
She noticed you were in thought but waited to see if you would continue it on your own. When you didn't she gave you a playful nudge, pulling you closer into her arms," What're you thinking about?"
You hesitate, taking another drink despite the fact that your character hadn't been on screen. Leading Renée to realize this was definitely a more serious conversation.
"Do you think we're ready to meet each other's parents?" You asked, you could see Renée's breath hitch as she also took another drink.
"Hell yeah, let's do it." She gives your shoulder a squeeze, though it was the alcohol confidence that lead her to agree.
You guys spent the rest of the night discussing it, talking about the dates for meeting everyone and how you would go about it. You made sure to write everything down in your notes app; not wanting to forget the conversation in the morning.
You and Renée had come to the decision that this coming Sunday, the two of you would have dinner at your parents house. You texted your mom about it, being slightly vague with who exactly you were bringing over but letting her know it was your girlfriend. She was on edge about it. Your parents knew you were gay, your mom took it better than your dad but she still had her complaints.
Mom: Girlfriend?? You're dating again? Honey, you should've told me! There's a nice man that moved in next door.
Your mom texted, you sighed deeply as you read the text. Sunday night was definitely going to be... interesting. To say the least.
You: No mom, I'm happy in my current relationship. Thank you, though.
You weren't going to be rude about it, she was your mother after all. So you let it slide and hoped it would be just the one time comment.
While you were dealing with all of this, Renée was in the kitchen. Pacing back and forth as she fidgeted with her rings. She had gotten in her head and was overthinking everything. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed. Maybe they should wait longer. Was she ready for this?
Her eyes flicked to yours when she saw your figure step into the kitchen doorway. Your expression soft as you walked over, pulling Renée into your arms to slow her pacing. "What's wrong?" You could tell Renée was overthinking, you knew her well enough by now to be able to catch all the little signs.
"I..." Renée paused, taking a breath and allowing herself to melt further into your arms. You gave her side a soft squeeze as you felt her do this," I don't know if I'm ready."
You frowned slightly, having thought that might have been the case." I get it, baby. I'm scared too. How about this.." You quickly came up with a compromise, Renée's eyes on yours as she listened to you," We wait and see how the rest of this week goes. Then make a finale decision Saturday night, if you're not up for it you're not up for it and that's okay."
You could feel her shoulders relax as she gave a gentle nod. Yeah, okay. That sounded fine. She would at least still be making an effort as opposed to quitting as soon as possible.
"Yeah... okay." Renée replied, you gave her forehead a soft kiss and kept her close in your arms. Hoping you at least eased her mind a little.
And you had, she was grateful for you.
#x reader#fanfic#canon x reader#fem reader#wlw fiction#renee rapp x reader#renee x reader#renee rapp
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If you had a chance to recommend (real-world) superhero comics to the Undersiders, which comics would you recommend and why?
Oh, good question. Its been a minute since I was really into comics (I gotta figure out how to reactivate my Marvel Unlimited account), but I think I have enough background to come up with some good picks.
Lotta good options for Taylor. My first thought is to give her Ewing's X-Men Red (aka "the main reason I need to catch up on Marvel comics"), since a superhero story that focuses a lot on gaining and maintaining societal power and the work of governing as a leader in a super-community seems like it would appeal to the Warlord of the Boardwalk. Plus a lot of it is "kill the previous leader in a way that ensures you have a popular mandate," which I'm sure she'd be a fan of.
If we're talking Taylor at the start of the story or younger—well, I don't know if it makes sense to give her runs of the character she's most a pastiche of, but maybe something that fits the Spider-Man niche could still be appealing for a young down-on-her-luck aspiring hero? I could see her getting something out of the Simone or Ahmed Ms. Marvel runs, for instance.
(While Watchmen might seem like the natural pick, I'm pretty sure she'd lose a lot of enjoyment just from picking out all the ways Veidt's plan was obviously gonna fail for x y z reasons. Also dark deconstructions of superhero worlds would probably seem too familiar to her world for her to enjoy it.)
If Taylor would be interested in comics statecraft, Lisa would probably be more interested in comics spycraft and intrigue. Ewing's S.W.O.R.D. would probably scratch the same itch for her that X-Men Red would for Taylor (and Storm dramatically blowing off Doom would probably satisfy her after all the ulcer-inducing negotiations with Accord.) I might also give her Ewings New Avengers and USAvengers runs (look this is gonna include a lot of Al Ewing recs, get used to it early) if only because I feel like she'd enjoy how Roberto gets characterized in those comics. Magnificent bastard solidarity.
If we're giving comics to Brian, we already need to work past his defensive avoidance of anything that seems too childish, so I don't think we're getting anything pre-dark ages. That said, he famously thinks "looking mature" means "sick-ass skulls and leather jackets," so his idea of maturity might skew a bit into McFarlane territory. Ultimately though I think he'd be most comfortable with something where he could plausibly say "this isn't just a comic, it's actually a well-respected piece of literature." I'd want that to mean Moore's Saga of the Swamp Thing, but it'd probably actually mean The Dark Knight Returns.
As a dark horse pick, I'd give Brian some early New Warriors or Ewing's Contest of Champions, if only because Night Thrasher feels so close to what he wants his vibe to be (dramatic black leather ensemble with a very 90's idea of cool, unflappable expert strategist who pulls his weight despite a powerset with limited applicability, died horribly and came back much later for weirdly impersonal reasons) while also being just ridiculous enough to make me want to see his reaction.
Given Iota's commentary on Alec's pizza habits, I'd think Alec would most be a fan of something intense and bombastic and not mind if its often repetitive. I'd almost say Berserk would be a good match for him, but parts of that that might actually be triggering for him. Maybe some other ultra-violent longrunning work; I haven't read Fist of the North Star but it seems like a safe recommendation; various X-Force runs could work if we're sticking with Western comics.
Rachel really doesn't seem like someone who'd have much appreciation for any aspect of comics. The best bet would be something visually spectacular in a way that could be appreciated on its own, and a plot that's interesting taking issues on their own and not just as part of ongoing runs. I could see Ewing's Immortal Hulk as fitting those criteria; her power gives her an artist's appreciation for Bennett's horrific depictions of the Hulk's transformations (even if praising Bennett for anything feels in poor taste).
Ewing's scripts for each issue of Hulk are clever in a way that I feel Rachel could find entertaining; they don't require an attention she couldn't keep up, but also aren't simple to the point of being condescending. Plus, the thematic focus on "what can and can't be solved through unspeakable acts of destruction" would feel familiar in a way that's less frustrating than normal comic tut-tutting about how obviously we can't attack these guys (plus the greater willingness to say "oh yeah unspeakable destruction definitely is the best way forwards here" would be pretty satisfying).
I feel like Aisha would have more patience for comic tropes than a lot of the other undersiders, (I could see her enjoying the original Fantastic Four run), but at the same time she'd probably enjoy something a bit more complicated and out-there. Ewing's Rocket might be appealing as heist-focused mini, and I feel like the mix of melancholy and absurdity would appeal to her. Rosenberg's Hawkeye: Freefall would work for similar reasons, though replace "melancholy" with "simmering rage."
Morrison's Doom Patrol and The Invisibles both have characters Aisha might relate to for the whole "society largely ignoring or wanting to go away" thing. Plus they both have big weird ideas she'd appreciate, Richard Case's art works well with her aesthetics, and they're both seen as "respectable" series to the point that she might like peppering in references to them in alongside Jules Verne jokes.
Huh, I just realized that Aisha and Brian both ended up chasing an appearance of being mature and somewhat surface-level and off-putting ways. Brian "trust me I'm a normal adult man" and Aisha "I've compiled spider-man quips for every work in the Western Canon and will get frustrated when you don't get them" Laborn, the "something ain't right about that kid" siblings.
(I will say that Morrison's Doom Patrol has some weird black stereotypes so if anyone wants to pitch me on a similar work without Morrison's occasional racism I'd be curious).
I'd give Rowell's run on Runaways to Sabah, if only because "somewhat antivillanous found family group of teens that mostly don't have to worry about anything besides relationship drama" sounds like a nice escape for her. Closer to what she wants the Undersiders to be like. Also, I feel she'd enjoy Kris Anka's focus on fashion in his art.
I don't have a lot to go off for Lily. I could see some of the more recent Captain Marvel runs appealing to her sense of true-blue militant heroism. Ayala's New Mutants or Ahmed's Black Bolt might help combat her whole "villains are ontologically evil" thing, at least to a certain extent.
#apologies for all the al ewing picks but. Cmon. You all know what im about.#greatwyrmgold#wormblr#wildbow#parahumans#mals reads worm#mals says#undersiders
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Slay The Princess Ramble
Ok I have been having Thoughts about the Voice of the Contrarian and am not afraid to share them. Will start under read more link because this might get a little long.
Ok, one of the Main Things about the Contrarian is that he doesn't follow the narrative, and I accept this, but I cannot emphasize enough just how Different he is from the other voices.
Ok, let's start at the tip of the iceberg here. Change. Born as counterparts to the Shifting Mound's Princesses, it makes sense that the Voices remain static in their personalities. Broken is submissive. Cold is apathetic. Hunted is animalistic. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. But Contrarian actually changes over the course of The Stranger path. He sees what he's done to the Princess, recognises that it has hurt her, and just ... drops the jester act immediately. The only other Voice that really changes at all is Hero, and that's because he's literally always by your side. And that's not even getting to how you find him Strange Beginnings.
Strange Beginnings. Oh, do I have Feelings about this ending, but I'll focus on just the Contrarian (for now). Out of all the Voices, all the cabins, the Contrarian is the only Voice other than the Hero himself that can join you in the finale. Maybe it's because his change has made him closer to the Shifting Mound than any of the other potential voices. Maybe it's because inside of The Stranger's cabin was the first you saw, rather than the Princess'. Maybe it's something else altogether, I don't know. However, what I do know is that once again, he's changed. He's ... honestly more downtrodden than even the Moment of Clarity version of himself. Only making jokes when he notices Hero's concern, accepting the knife without a second thought, (even calling himself the worst part of the Long Quiet in the most recent update, I've heard). But that's still not the end of things.
I think what interests me the most about Contrarian, though, is his relationship with the princess. He. Does. Not. Have. One. She is a literal stranger to him. He is not the Stranger's true counterpart, not really. Nothing about him contradicts her, unlike how all the other Voices have been named after their actions relative to their Part I Princesses. Instead, he is the Contrarian because he contradicts the Narrator. I can not emphasise enough how wild that makes my brain go. Because it explains SO MUCH about why he's Different from the others. Long Quiet is a foil for the Shifting Mound, his Voices are foils for her Princesses. Everything about them is static, unchanging. Because they are a single being, spiralling further into itself with every decision you make, only ever changing if you refuse to follow the path set out for you. And then there's him, the reflection of an echo of a mortal. (If he was there in the Spectre route, would she see him as something Other as well, something that once belonged but has been fragmented off of its given path).
Gah I'm obsessed with him. I want to dissect him for science. I want to tear and rip and pull him apart until I can understand what mysteries still hide behind the facade he shows the world. What are you hiding, you smiling little freak of nature?
#incoherent rambling#rambles#voice of the contrarian#im so obsessed#someone get him out of my brain#no that's a lie i don't want him to leave#slay the princess
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ohhh eggos. huevos. ovos. what a fucking journey its been, that's for sure. from the first day we met you, you won our hearts over. silly little admins playing silly little children eggs that caused just as much mischief as their parents (nearly). let's not forget that philza nearly got dapper instead of chayanne, that would have been a completely different outcome, for sure.
it's really sad that people like cellbit and felps never got to say goodbye to richas. or that missa never got to say goodbye to chay and llulah. or that roier and mariana never got to see pepito again. and it's really fucking sad that this all happened after we (aka me) thought everything was getting better. oh how wrong I was.
though, I am glad that the admins got to leave on their own accord. that they said, hey, this has been great but its time to leave. and while it is sad, let's be happy for them as look forward to the future of qsmp (I say with tears streaming from my eyes lmao)
in honour of the egg event ending, here's a couple of my favourite moments. (most of these will be chay and tallulah since I main phil):
chayanne and phil showing llulah rose's sanctuary
richas, pomme and philza planning to go rescue cellbit and baghera from purgatory
chayanne and missa getting robbed and held at gunpoint by ratackity
every time cellbit gave lullah a flower when they greeted each other (underrated duo for sure, there's so much behind them)
just in general, those times cellbit took care of lullah and chayanne when phil was away
philza seeing code!chay and code!llulah and immediately knowing it wasn't actually them (we love a good father)
phil officially adopting lullah (both times)
slimecicle meeting sunny for the first time and somehow still managing to misclick
misclickduo and juanaflippa in general
all of the dead eggs actually, juana, trump, tilin and bobby chingon!!
bagi screaming at the purgatory!worker when em lost a life during the post-purgatory fights with morning crew
niki and chayanne speaking german together!
every single death family moment, no matter the context, they really were the perfect family, and I will miss them with everything I have
it's very late for me now, so I'm going to end this here, but I don't think this is the end of qsmp. I don't think this is the end of the ccs shenanigans, or hardcore!philza lore he'll bring over, or bbh!demon lore. I don't think it's the end of events or anything like that.
now, more than ever, we need trust. just because the beloved ovos are gone, doesn't mean qsmp ends. we need to understand that wasn't the point of the server, and though it may have become that, now it will revert back to its original purpose: uniting languages and people from different countries. it will continue. just without the eggs. we'll miss you eggos, and
thank you admins for everything you did. it couldn't have been the same without you all o/
#qsmp#philza#badboyhalo#cellbit#felps#bagi#niki niachu#qsmp richas#qsmp pomme#qsmp dapper#qsmp chayanne#qsmp llulah#qsmp sunny#slimecicle#mariana#roier#egg event#sad qsmp#qsmp neg#?#idk#qsmp admins#liveblogging#qsmp liveblogging#qsmp admin situation#qadmins situation
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Omg they're ~~(wanted in at least 5 countries)~~ so silly I need the cheese ask with the other skellies pls
The main boys are here!
Horrorswap Sans - He scolds you for playing with food and starts eating the cheese anyway because he doesn't want to ruin it. But still, stop it!
Horrorswap Papyrus - He dramatically falls on the floor like a dying sea star, the cheese on his face. You killed him, congratulations.
Horrorfell Sans - He throws the cheese against the wall, hisses angrily, and then goes on all four to growl at the enemy. That's only when he realizes it's just cheese that he turns to you and starts to yell at you, asking if you think it's funny. Well. Yes, it is actually.
Horrorfell Papyrus - Are you proud of yourself? Throwing cheese at people who can't even walk to defend themselves. Shame on you. Shame on your cow. And shame on your face because as soon as you lower your guard, Chief slams the cheese back at you.
Outertale Sans - He dodges, mocking your terrible aim, knocks himself out against the ceiling, falls on the floor, and the cheese falls back on his face. Loser.
Outertale Papyrus - What are you? Five? He scolds you for showing a bad example to the children he's babysitting. Now go in timeout to think about what you just did. You regret nothing though.
Dancetale Sans - He ducks, does a back somersault, and shoots the cheese in the air like a pro footballer. The cheese somehow ends back in your face instead of his. Not fair.
Dancetale Papyrus - He screams, slaps the cheese on the floor, slips on the cheese, and falls on his back in an even louder scream. He then gives you an angry stare. You decide to retreat.
Dancefell Sans - He stays still :( He probably deserved this. He's a loser after all. He sits sadly on the floor with his cheese on his face and he stays there. What a drama queen, you swear.
Dancefell Papyrus - You thought it would be fun to do it while he's streaming. You didn't expect the Internet to turn this into a meme though. Poor Tango has his cheese face on every screen of the world for two whole months. He's mad at you lol.
Farmtale Sans - Uh oh. If there's something you don't want to insult, it's Sam's cows. And you just threw his baby's cheese at his face! How dare you! He starts a 10-minute speech about how hard it is to make cheese and how you're ruining his work with your pranks. You can stop chuckling honestly.
Farmtale Papyrus - He gives you a confused look, mildly panicked. Did he do something wrong? Are you angry at him? Why? He doesn't understand what's going on and he's not sure if he should laugh with you or hide or something.
Mafiatale Sans - He gives you an unamused stare, the cheese in his hand. You think you're really funny, uh? You're not going to laugh so much when he will mess with the water temperature while you're taking your shower tonight. But he will though.
Mafiatale Papyrus - Creeper keeps his natural poker face, not really caring about the cheese. He quickly discards it and returns to whatever he is doing. You're pretty sure you saw the shadow of a smile on his face but it's hard to tell, really. He's too good at being expressionless.
Mafiafell Sans - He tries to warn you, but you do it anyway. Suddenly, the leashes of the twenty dogs you were holding pulls forward, making you literally fly. The dogs all jump on Fang so they can have the cheese on his face. As for you, you're biting the dust... Quite literally.
Mafiafell Papyrus - Torpedo does the dramatic turnaround and asks silently who threw cheese behind his head. Because you have a survival instinct, you immediately points at Fang, who is sleeping peacefully at his desk. You feel bad when Torpedo starts to yell at his brother, flipping the desk over with everything on it. You decide it's maybe best to retreat because Fang is staring through your soul and you have a feeling you will pay for that.
Ink - He accidentally put his brush in the way, which opened a portal on an Undertale cheese AU where all characters are cheese. Ink is very excited and insists you two should go to try to eat Sans. You're not sure about this.
Error - He moved at the same time and now the cheese is in his eye socket. Error is rolling on the floor, screaming and glitching in agony, trying to get this thing out of there. Let's just say you better run fast and far away from him.
Disbelief Papyrus - He ducks instinctively. The cheese ends in Asgore's beard, who was just standing behind. You have a fun afternoon planned now, trying to save Asgore's beard without shaving it because the cheese is stuck in there. Delta is lecturing you while you're working.
Killer Sans - He hates cheese. He has the biggest gagging ever, throws the cheese away and runs to clean his face. He can't stand the smell, he swears he's going to grow himself a stomach to puke. You just found a mass destruction weapon randomly. Cool.
Dustale Sans - His brain completely stops working and he starts to stare at the emptiness. There's nothing in these eyes anymore. He stays there, frozen, and refuses to move before you get rid of the cheese.
#horrorswap#horrorfell#outertale#mafiatale#mafiafell#farmtale#ink sans#error sans#killer sans#disbelief papyrus#dustale sans#dancetale#dancefell#undertale ask blog#undertale asks#undertale imagines#undertale headcanons
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I did something extra special for my birthday, I just turned 28.... I'm getting old. Anywhoo, I went to an aquarium today and had so much fun.
Warning: mentions one main character with terminal illness, innuendo that said character is dying. Character death at end. I almost started crying writing this. I need to stop doing this to myself.... this was supposed to be happy. 😤
Whumpee watched some fish swim in a small pool.
Caretaker stood at the counter, purchasing tickets for them both.
"Is there any issues a wheelchair user should be concerned with?", Caretaker asked the cashier.
"Not really. Our facility is wheelchair friendly, except around the shipwreck area. Some of the wooden boards may be a little harder to get through", the cashier frowned, "I apologize."
"Not a problem", Caretaker smiled, "thankyou for your help and letting me know."
Caretaker walked over to Whumpee's wheelchair.
"Are you ready to go inside?", Caretaker smiled at Whumpee.
Whumpee excitedly nodded.
Caretaker saw that Whumpee's oxygen line was crooked.
"Please don't play with your oxygen line Whumpee", Caretaker adjusted it.
"Sorry, my cheek was itchy", Whumpee giggled, "I tried to fix it."
Caretaker looked over Whumpee.
Even in the warm summer heat, Whumpee was dressed in thick pants and a cozy cardigan. Their illnesses made them look like a skeleton of a person.
"Alright here we go", Caretaker unlocked the chair.
Whumpee was instantly amazed by the first room.
"Wow this is amazing", Whumpee awed.
"Look up Whumpee", Caretaker pointed.
Whumpee looked up.
A giant skeleton hung overhead.
"What is that from?", Whumpee looked back at Caretaker.
"I believe a whale or something along that line", Caretaker winked.
Whumpee nodded.
The next room was a tunnel, all sorts of fish swam along the sides and overhead.
"I can't believe I almost left this life without seeing an aquarium", Whumpee's head swiveled as they tried to see every fish they could.
Caretaker felt their heart sink.
"I know Whumpee, we will get as many adventures in before your body gives out on you", Caretaker gently rubbed Whumpee's shoulder.
Caretaker's mind drifted to their last doctor's appointment. The news wasn't great, Whumpee's illness they had been battling had turned terminal.
"Caretaker look at the shark", Whumpee pulled Caretaker from their thoughts.
"Whumpee, there's a bathroom up here, I'm gonna pop in there really quick", Caretaker turned the chair, "do you need anything?"
"Can I have my water before you go in?" Whumpee smiled, "I think I'm okay."
Caretaker handed them their water before going into the bathroom.
Whumpee had only taken a few sips when the water suddenly went down the wrong way.
Caretaker heard Whumpee start coughing and rushed to finish.
Whumpee had managed to catch their breath. They looked for their water bottle, and realized it was on the floor.
"Crap", they sighed.
Someone came by and saw Whumpee's struggle.
"Here let me get that for you", they bent and picked it up.
"Thankyou so much", Whumpee grinned.
"Are you okay. I heard you cough. It sounded pretty bad", the person questioned, "I'm a nurse, I don't mind."
Caretaker hurried out of the bathroom, "oh thank goodness", they breathed a sigh of relief, "can't leave you alone for a minute can I?"
"Water went down the wrong way", Whumpee whispered hoarsely, "they helped me pick up my bottle", Whumpee reached up to their nose, "I think I got a nose bleed from that though."
"Yep that is easy to do with your oxygen drying you out", Caretaker hurried to their bag and started pulling things out.
"Would you like some help? I'm a nurse", the person offered again.
"I appreciate it, but I think I have everything I need", Caretaker smiled, "thankyou for helping them also, I really appreciate it."
"Of course", the person turned, "I hope you feel better soon."
"Thankyou", Whumpee grinned.
Caretaker pushed Whumpee to an empty bench and set to work.
They squirted on some hand sanitizer, before sliding gloves on and sanitizing the gloves. Caretaker gently removed the oxygen chord and handed it to Whumpee.
"Hold that to your nose while I clean you up", Caretaker sighed as they pulled out some tissue.
"Not too bad Whumpee", Caretaker grinned as they finished up with the bloody nose, "you should be good to go."
"Can we sit here for a little while? These fish look cool", Whumpee looked around, then let Caretaker replace the oxygen.
Caretaker packed the care bag up then pushed Whumpee to get closer to watch the fish.
"I'll be back on that bench if you need me, just let me know when you're ready", Caretaker patted their shoulder, "don't hurry though, just enjoy this."
Caretaker quietly watched Whumpee, who was giggling at the fish. They saw the stranger from earlier in the corner of their eye.
"May I?", the nurse questioned.
"Yes absolutely", Caretaker scooted over a little.
"I know you probably can't talk much about it, but are they okay?", the nurse pointed at Whumpee, "I know it's none of my business, but they've been on my mind since I saw them earlier while you were buying the tickets."
Caretaker glanced at Whumpee before turning to the nurse, "they have been fighting an illness for a long time. Unfortunately, we just found out it is terminal", Caretaker sighed, "they don't have much longer unfortunately."
The nurse looked at Whumpee sadly, then at Caretaker.
"We are doing different adventures. As much as their body will allow at least", Caretaker sighed, "they've never been to an aquarium, so this is what we decided on today."
"Will you both be okay?", the nurse fought tears from falling. This wasn't the time for them to cry.
"We are both living each day like its their last. We are both scared for that day, but I am also scared for the next days to follow. I uh, I don't want to be alone, I don't want my dear friend to leave me. I know that sounds horrible of me. Because I don't want them to be in pain any longer. They don't deserve this. They are the kindest human you could have ever known. So full of life", Caretaker wiped away a tear, "I apologize for saying all of this to a complete stranger."
"It's okay, it's not easy to be someone's caregiver. You take on so many responsibilities, and often don't get to talk about your needs", the nurse patted Caretaker's hand, "you are doing amazing things for them though. I'm glad they have a friend like you."
Whumpee watched the fish. They didn't let on to the fact they could hear the whole conversation.
That night, Whumpee lay in bed and watched Caretaker get their monitors set up for the night.
"Caretaker?", Whumpee whispered.
"Yes Whumpee?", Caretaker looked at them with concern, "are you uncomfortable?"
"I heard your conversation earlier with the nurse", Whumpee whimpered.
"Oh you did?", Caretaker sighed, "I'm sorry."
"I-I'm sorry Caretaker, I know this has been hard on you. I'm sorry that you have to watch me die in front of you", Whumpee was almost crying.
Caretaker knelt down, "Whumpee I don't.... Whumpee I get to take care of you. It's hard yes, but I couldn't imagine letting someone else do it. It's not a chore to take care of you... I hope you know that."
Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry still that you have to do this..... I-I don't want to die.. I don't want to leave you either", Caretaker wiped away tears from Whumpee as they spoke.
Caretaker then wiped their own tears, "it's okay Whumpee, "I know", they forced a smile, "what should we do tomorrow? Hmmm, no more talk about dying."
The night nurse came into Whumpee's bedroom and started getting ready to watch over them.
"Can we go for a walk in the park tomorrow?", Whumpee smiled at their nurse.
"Absolutely", Caretaker nodded and nudged Whumpee's cheek lovingly, "goodnight Whumpee, sleep tight."
Caretaker jumped out of bed when they heard the monitor make the sound no one in that house wanted to hear.
Caretaker raced into Whumpee's room and saw the nurse trying to get Whumpee back.
Caretaker went to Whumpee's side and grabbed Whumpee's hand.
"Whumpee come on", Caretaker cried as they buried their face into the thin hand, "we need to go to the park tomorrow."
Their thin hand was already cold.
"They're gone", Caretaker sobbed as they looked at the nurse, "they're gone."
"I'll call the ambulance", the nurse wiped away tears as they left the room.
"Whumpee", Caretaker's voice cracked, "I love you so much Whumpee."
At the hospital, the nurse had started their shift. They still had the conversation with Caretaker fresh on their mind.
Suddenly a gurney was wheeled pass.
The nurse overheard someone saying the person on the gurney needed a pronouncement of death.
The nurses heart sank as Caretaker walked in following the gurney.
Caretaker saw the nurse and nodded as they walked past.
Whumpee was pronounced dead.
Caretaker was given a private room to wait for the paperwork to be finished. They hadn't collected Whumpee yet, so Caretaker sat beside the bed and gently held Whumpee's hand.
The nurse came in in time to see Caretaker wipe their eyes on their sleeve.
Caretaker turned to see them.
"I-I'm sorry", the nurse whispered, "I am so sorry."
Caretaker nodded, "thankyou", their voice stuck in their throat, "I think they knew today was their last day. They didn't want to say it though."
The nurse nodded, "do you have anyone coming up here for you or them?"
"Yes a few friends will be up to mourn with me for a few moments. One of them is the transport for Whumpee's body."
Caretaker sighed, "we already had everything set up for when this happened, Whumpee was happy they got to pick their own casket and funeral playlist. I was always amazed they could find some humor in this."
The nurse nodded as they stepped closer, and patted Caretaker's back.
"I'm going to miss them", Caretaker smiled weakly, "they wanted to go to the park for a walk.... today I guess it's early morning. I haven't even looked at the time yet."
Some people came into the room.
"Hey Caretaker", they greeted then looked at Whumpee.
"I'll leave you to be with your friends and family", the nurse started to go.
"Thankyou for helping them earlier today, and mourning with me", Caretaker gave a small grin, "I really appreciate your caring for them."
"Yes of course", the nurse smiled weakly.
The nurse hurried to their station and started to weep.
They told some of the other nurses what had happened at the aquarium and about the deceased patient.
Friends and family surrounded Caretaker and Whumpee.
After Whumpee was taken, Caretaker decided to walk home... making sure to take a long stroll through the park.
Are you crying yet? For some light heartedness, please scroll down and enjoy some pictures from my aquarium trip.
I will not lie. The Sting Rays and Sharks were my favorite. In the video, see if you can find the sea turtle, I didn't even realize I filmed them until later. There were two sea turtles. They were both rescued and were not able to return to the wild.
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems @lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
#whump community#whumplr#whumblr#whump stuff#whump writing#whump author#whump writer#whump ideas#whump scenario#whump#whumpee with illness#tw: character death#whumper#illness is the whumper#caretaking#whumpee#whumpee and caretaker#caretaker#oc#original story#aquarium trip
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It's Time To Smile
Request: I’m so bad at asks sorry, but could you maybe write something for Scarlett/Florence/Lizzie (or a combo, up to you) x reader with some really gentle twords? Any ideas you’ve got are totally cool, but maybe tummy focus? Yikes sorry I’m the worst at asks but feel free to experiment!
Summary: The reader is a stunt double in the new Avengers movie and is struggling with her success in landing her stunts. Lizzie, Florence, and Scarlett know a way to cheer her up (lee!reader x ler!Scarlett x ler!Lizzie x ler!Florence)
Note: Thank you so much for this request! This is my first time writing for these three, so I hope I did okay! Hope you enjoy :)
Word Count: 1393
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You were working on a new role in a movie, but not the typical one people think of. You were the stunt double for Scarlett’s character Natasha in this new Avengers movie. Even though you weren’t one of the main stars or anything, you knew your role was crucial for the success of this movie.
Your athleticism and training had prepared you well for this, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any challenges. As much as you practiced, it was still difficult to land some of the stunts and you were starting to get frustrated with yourself.
You sat alone during a break from filming, head in your hands. You were quietly whispering to yourself to get it together. While it was unlikely, you knew it was possible for them to replace you with someone better.
You were deep in your thoughts when you heard a voice.
“Y/N? Are you okay? What are you doing here all alone?” Lizzie asked, slowly approaching you.
“Oh, it’s nothing, I’m fine,” you said, waving her off.
“You don’t look fine,” Lizzie commented, taking a seat next to you.
You waited in silence for a bit, not knowing where to start. Lizzie knew your gears were grinding, so she gave you some time to think.
“It’s just…I don’t feel like I’m doing my job well enough,” you said with a sigh.
“Why do you think that?” Lizzie asked.
“It’s just that these stunts are really hard, but it’s my job and I can’t even do it right,” you said with frustration.
“Hey hey, it’s okay. We all know how difficult it is, and that’s exactly why we have you do them. We can do some stunts, but we can’t do them to your ability. None of us are here to judge you because you’re here to help us do what we can’t,” Lizzie comforted, while patting your back gently.
“I know, I’m just really hard on myself and I want this movie to do well,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.
“I promise you, you’ll land those stunts and we’re gonna break the box office with this movie,” Lizzie said, still rubbing your back gently.
You nodded, showing that you acknowledged what she said.
“Do you believe me?” Lizzie asked.
You thought for a second before responding, feeling more playful now.
“I don’t know if I can trust someone who can’t do their own stunts,” you said cheekily.
“Oh you little turd! You’re not even my stunt double!” Lizzie responded, now curling her fingers to scratch and wiggle against your back.
You were caught off guard and yelped, arching your back and quickly trying to twist away from her.
“Stop!!” You pleaded weakly, backing up against the couch you were sitting on.
Suddenly, Scarlett and Florence entered the room, hearing your pleading and thinking something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” Scarlett asked, worried that you were hurt.
“Your little stunt double here was lacking some confidence, so I comforted her, but then she decided to be brat,” Lizzie said, smirking as you were squirming from her squeezing the back of your neck.
“Lehehehet mehehe gohoho,” you giggled, reaching up to remove her hands, which just gave her access to poke you in the ribs. You let out a bark of laughter before curling up into a ball.
“Wanna help me tickle her to pieces? Lizzie asked Scarlett and Florence.
“Yeah, I think she needs some cheering up right? She was sad earlier?” Florence teased, approaching you with an evil grin.
“No! Never!” You declared stubbornly, clamping your mouth closed and refusing to smile.
“Natasha 2.0, you know you’re outnumbered right?” Scarlett said, helping the other two pin you to the couch.
Florence sat on your legs and began lightly tickling your feet. You squeezed your eyes shut, bucking against them to throw them off.
“Awwww, what’s the matter, Y/N? Ticklish?” Scarlett asked, slowly rolling your shirt up.
She began to add in on the tickling, spidering her fingers up and down your sides. You let out a snort, but quickly covered it up as a cough.
“I heard that Y/N,” Scarlett said, narrowing her eyes down at you, as you avoided eye contact.
Lizzie joined in, holding your arms above your head and using one hand to tickle your armpits.
All three of them tickling you was too much to not smile, which you reluctantly broke out into one.
“AWWW there’s that smile,” Lizzie cooed. However, a smile is all they got…for now.
“We gotta find her weak spot to really make her break,” Florence commented, now getting off of your legs.
“Where’s your most ticklish spot hmm?” Scarlett asked, eyeing your torso.
“Why would I tell you that?” You asked, struggling to escape.
“Because we need to hear your precious laugh and make sure you’re all cheered up,” Lizzie said, poking around your torso.
You flinched when she poked around your stomach and quickly pushed her hands away.
“Oh? I think I found itttt,” Lizzie teased, as she brought your hands above your head again.
“Scarlett? Wanna do the honors? She’s your little mini me after all,” Lizzie suggested.
“Scarlett no!! I trusted you!” You croaked, begging her to not tickle your stomach.
“Oh I’ve so gotta see this,” Scarlett said with a grin. With that, she took her ten nails and dragged them over your soft bare stomach, making you twist and jump against the sensation.
“I’m hardly even doing anything,” Scarlett giggled.
“I knohohow buhuhut ihihit tihihickles,” you giggled, unable to hold them back.
“Oooh I hear some giggles,” Florence teased, as you blushed.
Without warning, Scarlett began to wiggle her fingers as fast as she could over any part of your stomach she could reach.
“WAHAHAIT STAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE,” you screamed, attempting to yank your arms down.
“Stop what? Tickling you? Making you laugh because you’re so extremely ticklish?” Scarlett teased, as you thrashed and jerked on the couch.
“YEHEHES STAHAHAHAP IHIHI CAHAHANT STAHAHAHAND IHIHIT,” You squealed, as she began squeezing the sides of your stomach.
You felt your eyes begin to water, so they gave you a quick break.
“Are you gonna let me go now?” You scoffed.
“Not with that attitude,” Lizzie commented, and switched spots with Scarlett.
“Noooo plehehehease,” you begged, unable to handle much more.
“Please tickle you some more? You got it!” Lizzie said cheekily, as she bent down to blow three consecutive raspberries right over your belly button.
You screamed with laughter, eventually having it go silent.
“Wow that’s good,” Florence commented, as you rolled your eyes.
“Want some more?” Lizzie asked.
“NO! STOP I MEHEHEHEAN IHIHIT AHAHAHAHAHA,” you screamed with laughter, as she blew more raspberries all over your tummy.
“Wait, I wanna try something,” Florence said, switching spots with Lizzie.
“I promise this will be the last tickling you get,” Florence said, but you were unconvinced.
Florence slightly folded your waist band down, just enough to expose your lower stomach and waist.
You shook your head in fear, out of words to say or beg.
“Cat got your tongue?” Florence asked, before using her two index fingers to scratch away at your waist, causing you to twitch and jolt every which way, while you begged for her to stop through your laughter.
“Two fingers is all it takes? That’s insane,” Florence commented, as she now spidered all over your lower tummy.
“MEHEHERCY OHOH MY GOHOHOD,” you cried, struggling to get any more words out.
“Oh alright, you’ve had enough,” Florence said, and got off of you.
The three girls helped you sit up and got you a cold cup of water.
“Feel better?” Scarlett asked.
“From being sad or the tickling?” You asked.
“Both,” the three of them all responded.
“I do,” you said with a smile.
“Even if it was torture for you?” Lizzie teased.
“It wasn’t even that bad,” you said, trying to play tough.
“Really? Do we need to remind you how ticklish your stomach is?” Scarlett asked, as you quickly said no and jumped away from them, leading to lots of laughs at your expense.
You guys eventually resumed filming for the day. Maybe there was magic in those tickles, or the threat of them, but you were able to master every stunt you did that day and the movie ended up being a big success.
#marvel tickle#mcu tickle#scarlett johansson#lizzie olsen#florence pugh#ticklish!reader#lee!reader#ler!florence#ler!scarlett#ler!lizzie#tickle fic#marvel fanfiction#marvel tickle fic#mcu#marvel
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☆ found family – the baby ☆
Secondo (Papa Emeritus II) & baby Copia
summary: A stormy evening gets an unexpected turn and Secondo finds himself taking care of a baby boy.
content: 0.9k words, mild hurt/comfort, fluff, slice of life, SFW
I have wanted to write some brotherly stuff for a while now and finally I did it. 🤗 This is only the beginning, though, I'm going to write at least one more piece related to this. Enjoy!
It was a stormy evening – thunder roared outside and rain poured like crazy and Secondo found it hard to focus on his work. There was mainly some paper work he hoped he had finished by now but things didn’t always go as you planned and today had been one of those days that everything had felt too much. He massaged his temples and then stretched out his hands, groaning as he felt the stiffness in his joints.
He suspected that he wouldn’t get anything done anymore and decided it wouldn’t hurt if he took a little walk within the abbey, so he stood up and left his office. The hallways were empty for which Secondo was glad of – he didn’t feel like meeting anyone right now, the sound of thunder and the echo of his own steps being the only companions he welcomed.
He passed the main doors and turned to left, and stopped in his tracks as he heard someone loudly knocking the doors. It wasn’t unlikely that someone would seek some shelter from the abbey but it didn’t happen that often so it was a bit worrisome. Slowly, he turned around and returned to the doors, the knocking now rapid, like someone was really desperate to get in. He didn’t waste time unlocking and opening the door, coming face to face with a soaked lady and there, in her arms, was a baby wrapped in a blanket.
”Oh thank god, I thought everyone was sleeping. I found him…” she didn’t finish her sentence, just extended her arms, pushing the baby towards Secondo. ”Never mind. He’s not mine, I guess someone abandoned him, but I can’t take him… Please…”
Secondo blinked, his gaze dropping to the baby who seemed to be asleep despite all the noise around him. He felt a little lost but there really wasn’t much options so he just gave a nod to the lady and took the baby from her.
”Thank you, thank you,” the lady said, offering a small smile to Secondo. ”Poor little boy…” she continued, shaking her head, and then she turned around and left. Secondo could only look after her stunned, the baby now secured in his arms. Only when he couldn’t see her anymore, he closed the door, hoping that she would get safe to wherever she was going.
The baby stirred in his arms and Secondo realized that he must have been cold due to wet blanket. He rushed to his chamber and started searching for something dry that would keep the little boy warm. As soon as he found something suitable, he gently put the baby down on his bed and disgarded the wet blanket and the boy’s clothes. The diaper didn’t seem to bother the boy yet, so Secondo hoped it would last for a while more.
The boy yawned and opened his eyes just as Secondo got him wrapped into his old shirt, and Secondo smiled as the boy stared up at him, eyes wide. There seemed to be something strange going on with his left eye, it was a bit paler in color compared to the right one. It would be best to get a doctor to check on it at some point.
”Ciao, piccolino,” he said softly and the boy blinked. Then the boy’s face scrunched up and he started crying, and Secondo let out a sigh before picking the boy up, cradling him close and rocking him gently. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to help and Secondo was growing a bit nervous until he realized that the boy must be hungry. He hurried out of his chamber and started to head straight for the kitchen, hoping that no one would see him as now really wasn’t a time to answer some questions the sight of him with a baby would surely awake.
He checked that no one was in the kitchen before entering and went to the fridge to look for some milk. It was easy to find and he set the milk can on the nearest table. Now he only had to find a feeding bottle – there must have been those, too, since they had had babies around before. He looked everywhere, the baby now basically wailing and Secondo was fearing he would wake the whole abbey up soon.
Eventually the luck was on his side and he spotted one feeding bottle on one of the top cupboard, on the far back of the bottom shelf. He took it, poured some milk into it and then put it on the microwave to heat it a bit. He tried several times that it wouldn’t get too hot and when it felt to be just perfect, he brought the feeding bottle to the baby’s lips.
”Here you go,” Secondo spoke and the baby went silent instantly as he realized he was getting fed. Secondo smiled tiredly, the exhaustion now settling into his bones. It was gonna be a long night… But he couldn’t just leave the baby to someone else to take care of. The poor little one had already gone through the worst – the abandonment. And when he looked into the little boy’s eyes, he couldn’t help but feel this desire for protection. The boy also reminded him of the time when his youngest brother, Terzo, had been a baby.
The baby drank the milk in earnest and the look in his better eye got brighter, the tears now drying on his chubby little cheeks, and the sight was enough to make Secondo’s chest feel so warm and full. The little one was safe and that was all that mattered now. Everything else could be taken care of later.
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Prompt 14 - Forgotten First Meeting
@wolfstarmicrofic May 14, word count 964
Sirius had been set up on a blind date by his brother's best friend, Pandora. She’d declared she was tired of seeing him moping about with no one to love and demanded he allow her to set him up. Sirius apparently had no choice in the matter, and he couldn’t explain why he hadn’t just sacked it off and not turned up to the restaurant. But he had, and he’d even spruced himself up a bit.
“Table for two, should be under Black, might be Lovegood.” He told the host waiting just inside the restaurant.
“Ah, yes, here we are two for Lovegood. Will your guest be arriving soon?” The host looked behind Sirius as though his date would just materialise out of thin air.
“Hopefully,” He told the man. “It’s a blind date, so you never know.” The host nodded sagely, as though he got that a lot.
“Ms Lovegood, enjoys sending her projects to us. She’s never once had a no show, I might add.” Sirius felt himself redden. He and Pandora would be having words. “Right this way Mr Black, we have your table all set up.” Sirius followed him into a corner where a small table was set for two. It felt very intimate already.
“Thanks,” He gave a half smile to the man before he sat down. He opened the menu and glanced at the dishes.
“Can I get you a drink Sir?” Asked a waiter.
“Oh, yes. Gin and Tonic, please.”
“Right away, Sir.” The waiter bustled off.
A tall, bean pole of a man stopped beside his table. Sirius looked up and up and up from his seat. The man was well over six feet tall and fit as fuck. Sirius felt his insides do a little jig. Pandora had done good. His date didn’t look as impressed.
Sirius jumped to his feet.
“Hi, Sirius Black.” He told the giant, holding out his hand for him to shake.
“Remus Lupin.” The giant responded, engulfing his hand with his own. Sirius’s heart stuttered as he imagined those hands somewhat lower on his body.
“Sit, please, sit,” Sirius stammered, “Do you want a drink? Er.” He looked around for the waiter and was relieved to see him walking towards him with his drink on a tray.
“Here you are, Sir.” The waiter said, placing Sirius’s gin and tonic on the table in front of him. “Would you like anything, Sir?” He asked Remus.
“Whisky, neat, please” Remus replied. The waiter disappeared again.
“So, Remus. How do you know Pandora?” Sirius dove in, not comfortable with silences. Remus narrowed his eyes.
“We went to school together.” Was the only answer he gave. Right, thought Sirius, short and blunt. This was going to be difficult.
The waiter returned with Remus’s drink.
“Do you know what you would like to order or do you need a minute?” Sirius looked over to Remus. Neither of them had looked at the menu properly.
“I think we might need a minute, thanks.” Sirius smiled weakly at the waiter.
“Steak, rare, please.” Remus said as he glanced at the menu. The waiter looked at Sirius, who quickly looked down at the list of mains.
“Erm, I’ll have the chicken chasseur please.” He handed the menu to the waiter, and they were back to silence again.
“So, er, what do you do, Remus?” Sirius broke the silence. Remus scoffed this time.
“I work in a library,” He said bluntly.
“Wow, I bet that's interesting,” Sirius pushed a bit.
“I’ve been digitising all the old records. It’s mind-numbing.” Remus looked around as though trying to find the nearest exit.
“Have you found anything interesting in the old records?” Sirius tried again.
“No,” This wasn’t going well.
“Sorry, have I done something wrong?” Sirius asked. They’d barely been there ten minutes, and he couldn’t think what he could have done in such a short time to anger him so much.
“Do you really not remember?” Remus snapped. Sirius shook his head, taken aback by Remus’s tone. “Are you serious?!” Sirius had to bite his tongue not to respond how he usually would to that question. When he didn’t answer, Remus went on. “We’ve already met. You’ve been to my flat. Slept in my bed, amongst other things.” Sirius stared at him, trying his hardest to remember.
Remus shook his head in aggravation and one of the wall lights glinted off a silvery scar running across his face and Sirius remembered.
“Oh my God, Remus!” He hit his forehead with his palm. How could he have forgotten? He’d been so drunk that night and in the morning Regulus had rung him crying about something their mother had said to him. Sirius had had to sneak out to go calm his brother down. He hadn’t gotten Remus’s number and had forgotten where the flat was.
That had been months ago and Sirius had never been very good with faces. “I’m so sorry.” He pleaded for forgiveness and explained what had happened. Remus still seemed a bit grumpy, but he stayed. They ate their meals and Sirius treated him to a big piece of chocolate cake as an apology. Remus cheered up after that.
“So,” Sirius said shyly to him once he’d paid the bill. “Will you see me again or did I totally blow it last time?” He looked up through his eyelashes, knowing full well what effect that had on people. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, but gave in.
“Yeah, go on then.” He grinned. “Fancy a night cap? At yours this time, that way you can’t sneak out,” Sirius beamed at him and, taking his hand, practically dragged him from the restaurant. He could just hear the host chuckling to himself as the door closed behind them.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar au#wolfstar fic#wolfstar angst#sirius black#remus lupin#sirius orion black#remus john lupin#regulus black#pandora lovegood#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#things happened sirius#chocolate makes everything better#remus and his chocolate#forgotten first meeting
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ok so imo the one singular thing TCW/canon did better than Legends with Asajj is her relationship with Dooku and that's due to 3 main reasons
a) Dooku is mostly just an asshole in Legends and it's difficult to build something around that, his facade is often just his personality and it's hard to find a way around that
b) Cavan Scott put everything into Dooku: Jedi Lost and built it in such a delicious way it can't really be topped and there wasn't any book centering Dooku and Asajj in Legends let alone one with so much passion poured into it (Dark Rendezvous comes close but since it doesn't center Asajj it's not the same)
c) Though facing similar ends (for different reasons) regarding her apprenticeship to Dooku, Legends & Canon Asajj are very different characters. Asajj is mostly independent of Dooku in her actions in Legends (he commands her and brings her into the war but her actions are not taken directly because of him) and her character's built outside of him, while in canon/tcw she feels much more like his fist, and as he says she is important to him. We also don't see Dooku's thoughts about her almost anywhere in Legends and in TCW and Jedi Lost we do so there's that.
#daily asajj thought of the day#it's a matter of writers deciding to focus one one thing or the other#which is why i don't mind that legends didn't do much with it#idk if that last one is clear enough but eh i won't rewrite it#star wars#asajj ventress#dooku#count dooku#sw#ventress#the clone wars#star wars legends#star wars the clone wars#star wars republic
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14, "Are you alright?" And 19, "No, I didn't mean to feed on your territory! I swear!" With poly lost boys❤
Sorry for the wait! I hope you like this💜
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Vampires had strict rules. Even though some of them liked to preach about freedom and the lack of rules - everyone was bound by something. Vampires were bound by the sun. If it was up, they had to hide. They were bound by their bloodlust, needing a humans lifesource in order to survive. They couldn't enter a home without an explicit invitation, nor could they be seen in mirrors. Rules, whether you liked it or not.
The second vampires lived together in groups, there were some more rules added to the list. A group - coven - had a leader. More often than not, it was the creator of the other vampires in the group, but there were exceptions. A coven could claim one area as their own, and no other vampire was allowed to hunt there. That rule had been made centuries ago, when the killing spree of one vampire led to the eradication of hundreds.
The boys had left the boardwalk early that night, deciding to go and feed earlier than usual. The main reason for this was the strange smell that hung around town. It was definitely a vampire - that much was certain - but the smell this vampire had was different. Sweeter. More gentle. It evoked a hunger inside them, and thus, they decided they had to try and clench it.
It was there, when they arrived at the edge of town - having found a small party they could crash - that they found the source of the smell. Another vampire, as expected. They were dancing along between the humans, looking almost ethereal. Their laughter filled the air, and the sound of it made it seem as if they had the power to restart an undead heart.
David stopped to look at the vampire, before moving forward. Even though the stranger was here, he had nothing to do with them. He and his boys had to feed, and they'd deal with the trespasser after. With just the slightest nod, the boys flew up into the air, racing each other down again. People from the party were grabbed left and right. They screamed, being quickly drained or slowly ripped apart.
It didn't take long or not a single living human remained.
"Why did you do that?"
Paul looked up, seeing the vampire standing in front of them. He and the others had already started to clean up the mess they'd made, and if he was being frankly - he had forgotten about the unknown vampire already.
"Do what?"
"I wanted to kill them. I'd been hunting all night, and -"
"You really want to hunt on another vampires territory?" David stood behind them, causing the vampire to jump.
"What? I- I thought no one was left, after that Max guy was killed." They frowned slightly, looking at the boys - taking a step back when they saw both David and Dwayne dangerously glare at them.
"But-" they quickly continued, "I am guessing this is your territory now?"
David gave them a cold nod, causing them to shiver. There is something about this group of vampires that made it hard to look away or think straight.
"You still hunted here."
The vampire swallowed, biting their lip. "But-"
"We have every right to kill you." Dwayne added, causing the unknown vampire to take a step backwards.
"No!" They looked at the boys, practically pleading. "I didn't mean to feed on your territory! I swear!"
"How about you let us know who you are, hm?" Marko spoke up. The vampire nodded.
"Charlie. I'm eh - I'm new."
"Yeah, we figured." Paul grinned - but Charlie couldn't decide whether it was a teasing or threatening one.
"I really didn't mean to feed on-"
"That's fine. You've learnt your lesson, haven't you?"
Charlie nodded, looking at David. He introduced himself and the boys. The atmosphere cleared a little, everything less tense. The longer they talked, the more Charlie realised that they liked these men. Sure they had scared them before, but damn - they were hot.
"How new are you?" Marko asked as he and the others walked to their bikes. Charlie shrugged, following behind. "Less than a year? I've been on the road, so I have no idea about time or dates."
"You ride?" Dwayne asked.
Charlie nodded, taking the keys out of their pocket. "Nothing to fancy, just a yamaha."
"Why did you pick that one?" Paul looked at them.
"Mistook it for a piano store."
This caused the boys to grin. David didn't know why - normally, he'd have killed an intruder on his territory without a second thought, but with Charlie? It felt wrong. Normally, Dwayne didn't even bother with conversations with strangers, simply stating that they were boring and unimportant - so why did he willingly choose to participate in conversation now? And what about Paul, who'd normally torment and tease anyone just for the fun of it - who now seemed genuinely interested in this Charlie? What about Marko, who disliked anyone every touching his stuff - but was now helping Charlie step on the back of his ride so he could give them a lift to their bike? There was something about this Charlie, that much was certain.
Charlie pointed Marko in the right direction, the others quickly following behind. Within ten minutes, they arrived at a small parking lot surrounded by trees. In a shadowy corner stood a dark burgundy bike. Charlie grinned as they stepped off, taking their own ride.
"Thanks for the ride. I guess I'll be going now." Charlie smiled but stopped when they wanted to start their motor and saw the boys staring at them. They frowned.
"Are you alright?"
It was quiet for a moment, as if the boys were talking among themselves without Charlie being able to listen in. It went on for a while, the boys sometimes throwing them a look and then going back to the discussion.
"It's to late for you to go. The sun will be up in an hour."
Charlie nodded as David spoke. "I'll go and find a mot -"
"No, you're not," Marko interrupted.
"What?"
"You're coming with us," Dwayne explained. "We have enough space, and it's close by."
"Also," Marko added as he saw Charlie's doubtful look, "it is totally free."
"I can still leave if I want to?"
"Not sure why you would, but yes!" Paul nodded.
"So you're really just being kind?"
"Yeah." Marko nodded.
"As sweet as this is," David gave all of them a stern look, "we have to go."
Charlie grinned, racing after the others. It didn't take long before they arrived at a cliff, with some stairs leading down into a cave. As they entered, surrounded by their newfound friends, Charlie began to understand what Paul had meant. If it was up to Charlie, they'd never leave this place again.
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