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becca-e-barnes · 1 year

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The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

#bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #dbf!bucky #dad's best friend Bucky #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #ps!bucky #ps!dbf!bucky #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #becca writes spice #this was somewhat fuelled by 'If you're too shy let me know'#I promise I'm not this arrogant #but there's just something about being told how good you feel #I'm not getting into it #you probably get it #anyway #writing at the minute really feels like when you go for a drive and you have your music on shuffle #and you end up skipping every song #because you don't know what you want to listen to and nothing is hitting the spot #I'm looking to write something very specific to scratch a brain itch but I don't know what that is rn #it'll come to me #and in the meantime #I'll keep looking through the notes app on my phone at all my unwritten ideas

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tswwwit · 8 months

Note

Lol omg at your last ask because imagine dippers under some truth spell and ends up spilling a bunch of secrets that Bill already knew and had stashed to use for later

This is no longer 'last ask' relevant because I had this partially written in my drafts for like a million years - but a Truth spell on Dipper would be very interesting!

So I took this prompt and didn't really answer it except in some ways.

Here's a thing!

“You never bring me any souvenirs.” Bill complains. In an all-too-whiny tone, and an all-too-close lean into Dipper's personal space.

Plus, it's a blatant lie. One Dipper shouldn't respond to.

He does anyway. “I literally brought you harpy feathers last week.”

“Doesn’t count! That was for a ritual you wanted to pull off!” Bill sounds miffed, though he also plants a palm on Dipper’s head and starts ruffling hair. “Now where's the emerald from last March? Or like, the headdress from that cult with all the rabbit bones? The good stuff."

Dipper grunts. He focuses on navigating back out of the cave, turning the clay tablet over in his hands.

Figures Bill would remember all the times he did get something. His memory is excellent. And he’s greedy, because a new toy every time is a big ask.

What does Bill expect, anyway. Not every situation Dipper gets into has something to bring back. What could he even offer? An ear taken off every monster he has to fight?

Wait, no. Bill would love that.

Dipper makes a face. “You've just proved that it's not ‘never’. With examples."

"Sure, but when’s the last time it was cool?”

Dipper sighs. No point in arguing. Bill could go on forever about how 'unfair' it is that he doesn't get trophies from every trip, or trinkets from conquered lands, or, again, ears from every enemy. When he’s decided to complain, no reasonable argument will shake him out of it.

“Too bad, then. You’re only getting some gifts.” Dipper shakes his head rapidly to dislodge Bill’s hand from his hair. "It’s hardly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you."

“Hey! I could argue that it’s related! In fact -”

Dipper tunes out the rest of Bill’s ramble, rolling his eyes. Listening with half an ear to Bill's ongoing tirade about being a poorly kept man, and unappreciated in his time.

Despite how much he already has, Bill always wants more. Somehow he sniffed out Dipper’s latest excursion, showing up right at the end and looking for ‘loot’.

Which Dipper, by all rights, should prevent.

Anything magical falling into Bill's hands can cause chaos, no matter how innocuous it seems. The flower incident alone is reason not to hand Bill anything, ever, and the fact that Dipper still does sometimes should be appreciated, damn it.

Bill's complaining on and on, but whatever. Eventually he'll get bored.

In the meantime, Dipper turns the clay tablet around again with a frown. He found something interesting, at least.

Whatever this is, it’s definitely not a language he recognizes. The script is strange, scrawled in different directions. For all he knows he’s holding it upside down. He hopes Bill doesn’t notice until he’s figured out -

"Whatcha got there?" Just as expected - and right on time.

Dipper feels the tablet yanked out of his grasp, unfazed. He doesn't break his stride.

"I found it in the lair, after... you know." Charred bones, explosions - Dipper wishes he could use, like water, or something, but mastery over even one element is powerful as is. "Anyway, that monster was collecting a lot of weird magic stuff, and this was the only interesting thing it had." He shrugs. Then, because Bill will like it, adds, "So... to the victor go the spoils?"

“Now that’s the spirit!” Bill gives him a grin, holding the tablet up to squint at it. Thankfully not turning it around. One point for Dipper, on not looking incompetent.

Still, if anyone can read it…

“What language is this?” Dipper not-so-subtly leans over, trying to peek around Bill’s arm.

"Old Draconic," Bill says, without missing a beat. Humming to himself as he apparently reads the text. Perking up a bit, smile widening. "Oh, hey! Iambic pentameter."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing, sapling. I just wish when people did the whole 'ancient poetry curse' thing, they'd get a little more creative. You never see hexameter! Or tetrameter! Not even a tasteful use of spondee.” Bill sticks his tongue out. "Come to think of it - I don’t think anyone’s done a prose epic that made the reader wanna tear their eyes out since Joyce."

Sometimes with Bill, you have to read between the lines. The long, irrelevant babbling lines.

"Just tell me if I need to get Ford or not." Dipper says, flat. He rubs at the bridge of his nose.

Among all the other stuff, Bill said ‘curse’. Never, ever a good sign.

Though the monster he just took down wasn’t a dragon, and that wasn’t really a ‘horde’ so much as something resembling the contents of the Mystery Shack, there’s absolutely no good thing about a curse. If Dipper somehow triggered it -

Great. As if hanging around Bill alone didn’t invite enough bad fortune, he’s picking up parts of his own stupid curiosity.

"Nah, don’t bother with the loser uncle!" Bill waves his concern away, amused. “This is just purple prose! Buncha ‘oooh, bad things’ll happen if you mess with my stuff.’ Totally boilerplate spellcraft with some flowery wording.”

With a shrug, Bill dismisses the whole thing. Which includes chucking the tablet over his shoulder, but Dipper manages to snag it before it falls and shatters into a million pieces.

“Typical dragon horde enchantment. All bluster, no burning.” Bill keeps walking without a care in the world. “They’re full of hot air!”

“So I’m not cursed,” Dipper prompts, catching up to him. “Aside from you, I mean.”

“Flatterer,” Bill says, slightly warmer. He continues, shrugging. “No reason you would be! No dragons in the area, and the warning sign there’s too old. By my guess, the original horde was raided centuries ago! Just another piece of random crap that got dragged into that junkyard." And he ruffles Dipper’s hair again, in the second-most annoying way. "You’re stuck with me, though.”

Dipper ducks and twists, thus freeing himself from the minor torment. “I think I can live with that.”

One would think that chatting with a demon - one as cryptic and ominous and aggravating as Bill - would only cause irritation, at best.

It still does, of course. But when it comes to Dipper, Bill… sometimes lays things out straight. On occasion. Especially when he’s instructing, doubly when it comes to magic. Like he’s trying to pour all the facts he can into Dipper’s brain, overfilling the cup.

If his goal is to overload this one mortal mind, though, he'll have to work a lot harder.

Dipper gets out his notebook, while Bill looks away, and pretends he didn’t see it. Yet another poorly-veiled lesson, with Bill obviously trying to plant seeds re: actually casting curses. Tough luck managing that. His subtle lean towards chaos might escape the unwary, but to Dipper? Bill’s way too transparent.

The fact is, that Dipper absorbs things fast. Even Bill will admit it, sometimes without being prompted.

That Includes stuff Bill doesn't even know he's teaching.

Bill’s also rambling on about historical curses, and how often these things backfire, or misfire. It’d almost sound like a series of unconnected, gossipy anecdotes, if it weren’t for the extra technical details.

And Dipper’s not falling for it. As far as he's concerned, his first curse was his last one.

But then…

Even if he’s not going to use the knowledge, there's no reason not to learn it. Knowledge about making curses can also be used to break them, after all. Taking all the facts Bill smacked a ‘For Evil Purposes Only’ sticker on and using them to shatter an evil plan would be very satisfying.

They’re nearly out of the cave at this point, so Dipper figures it’s fine to let his guard down a bit. The monster's dead, all the traps were cleared out on the way in - everything should be fine.

He clicks his pen a couple times, and asks Bill to repeat that last thing, about the life drain. It gets a snort of amusement, but Bill’s more than happy to elaborate at length. Dipper struggles to keep up with Bill’s rapid-fire speech; he's trying to make this intentionally difficult, damn it.

Bill leads on with careless gestures and an uninterrupted stride. Getting ahead of Dipper by several meters, but Dipper’s got to note down what he says before he has to do something awful, like ask Bill to repeat himself.

Dipper is, in fact, so busy trying to write in shorthand, and walk, and not hit a stalactite with his face, all at the same time, that he sort of loses track of where he is.

And okay, maybe he trips over a rock slightly, and nearly faceplants, bonking against the sudden curve of a wall with a swear.

Dipper takes a step back, rubbing at his forehead. Annoying, but, whatever. There were a few traps around, but he pretty much cleared out the cave on the way in, so it’s probably - oh, hell.

Not fine, he dropped the stupid tablet.

Great. The only really interesting object, shattered into half a dozen pieces. So much from saving it from Bill; Dipper himself fumbled the bag.

He backs up to evaluate the damage -

The stone sinks under his foot, and something goes ‘click’.

With a start, Dipper raises a shield without thinking, arm jerking up as he wills his magic into the gesture. It's solid enough for something done on reflex, but an impact hits hard on his side, with sudden, stinging pain.

And a pretty hard impact, at that. He didn’t get it solid enough, damn it, wasn’t expecting something physical -

Dipper wheezes out a breath, slumping to the ground and clutching his stomach.

Alright. So. He got most of the traps.

He sits down, and lets his head thump back against the stone, teeth bared in a grimace. Stupid. Should have been paying attention.

The commotion makes Bill turn his head, blinking at Dipper sitting on the ground.

Then - because he’s an asshole - he starts laughing.

“I know I’m fascinating, sapling, but really?” He tuts, setting fists on his hips. “Not sure if I should be flattered that you’re obsessed with me, or disappointed that you’re dumb enough to walk right into a wall.”

Dipper sucks in a breath, gingerly touching his side. Doesn’t seem like - he glances down. Sure, it stings, and his shirt’s torn, a long, shallow cut on his stomach, just near the old scar. But that’s about it. Over to his side, an arrow rolls against the ground, stone head clicking against the ground.

Over by the cave mouth, Bill’s cackling. God, he’s a jerk sometimes.

But he must not have seen the trap set off, too wrapped up in his own stupid bullshit, or he’d be less of one. Dipper knows that for a fact. Though he’d really, really prefer he’d never had that experience.

“C’mon, kid. If you’re not even more brain damaged from your bump, let’s ditch this joint.” Bill jerks his head over his shoulder.

Dipper hugs himself around the torso, grimacing. Not bothering to respond. His heart is still pounding, or he’d have a retort ready. Adrenaline’s helped him out in a lot of situations, but not with talking. He’ll get up when he’s ready.

“What, you smash your skull open or something?” Bill raises one arch eyebrow.

Though Dipper knows why Bill’s like this, it’s still deeply annoying. He shakes his head in lieu of a reply. In a second, he’ll be calm enough to tell Bill exactly what he thinks of his incredibly poor bedside - and cave-side - manner.

“Figures. Can’t leave you alone for five minutes without your guts spilling everywhere.” Bill clicks his tongue, folding his arms and stepping forward. “What’s the damage?”

“It hurts.” Dipper says, through gritted teeth. Then pauses. Wait, he meant to say - He shakes his head rapidly, only for more words to force themselves out, unbidden. “I got cut again.”

Again, not what he intended. Dipper lowers his chin, teeth clenched. What the hell, he shouldn’t have said that. Bill’s mocking aside, maybe he did hit his head a little too hard. Once Bill gets the mockery out of his system, he’s going to be a total pest about it, too.

With a huff, Dipper slumps. Settling in for a sulk, waiting for the next jab - But there’s no insult forthcoming. Or argument.

In fact, Bill’s gone totally silent. Which is super weird.

Dipper looks up at the cave entrance, expecting a comment or a question, or at least a huge grin. He tenses up, hunching over.

And meets a frozen, unsmiling face.

Bill dropped his arms, they hang limp by his sides. His expression’s gone blank.

The next moment, he’s right in front of Dipper, kneeling and tugging at his arms with alarming urgency.

“Alright, lemme see.” Bill’s face is very close. Though he’s trying to pull his arms away, Dipper resists out of sheer surprise. Bill growls, eye darting around until it lands on the arrow. “Oh for - Really can’t leave you alone for five minutes. Move.”

Another pull, less hard this time. Like he’s trying to ease Dipper’s arms away.

“Wh- Hey!” Dipper plants a foot against Bill’s chest, but that hardly stops anything. He raises his arms. Holding them up, in fact, like he’s at gunpoint. Where’d this come from. “Don’t get upset, I’m fine.”

“Ha! Good one, sapling. Who’s upset, exactly?” Bill says, teeth bared, and in a deeply upset way. He tugs Dipper’s shirt, up, fingers tracing the cut before pressing into his stomach. “I’m just wondering if I need a replacement mortal this soon into your miserable existence. No big deal!”

Okay, this is too much.

Dipper struggles up, despite Bill trying to shove him down again. Bracing himself on the cave wall, and glaring. “Calm down already.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Bill says, through gritted teeth. At best he looks miffed, but he’s at least stopped trying to make Dipper lie down in the recovery position or whatever. With a glare, he tugs up Dipper’s shirt, prodding at the shallow cut. “What the hell, kid. I thought you said it hurt!”

“Ow.” Dipper’s stomach jumps at another poke. He smacks Bill’s hand away. “It does, alright? Quit poking.”

Bill doesn’t seem impressed. His fingers trail over the larger, older scar on Dipper’s left side, then glares at Dipper’s stomach like it’s insulted him. A beat, then - “You don’t usually complain.”

“I-” Okay, true. Dipper glares anyway. “Shut up.”

He doesn’t complain because it’s the only option. For all that Bill whines and teases and taunts Dipper, all the time, about being some ‘fragile mortal meatsack’, already rotting before his eyes, he really doesn’t like it when it’s brought forcefully to his attention.

God, he shouldn't have said anything. Ninety-five percent of the time, there isn’t any harm to mention. But when Dipper does ends up showing he is kind of… mortal, and it’s small, he just. Doesn’t bring it up. For all that they bicker all the time, he doesn’t like to make Bill upset.

Bill grunts, mouth turned down at the corners. He stands up quickly, folding his arms. His lip curls up in a sneer. “If you wanted attention, kid, there are way better ways to-”

Oh, fuck that. Dipper flips him off, and starts storming off.

God, this is stupid. Whenever Dipper ever breaks a bone or something, he gets teased about being so weak and vulnerable. Which he is, but neither of them like the reminder.

These days, it also comes with some weirdly maybe-sincere ‘kiss it better’ thing that Dipper then has to disinfect. A lot of hovering, and rambling commentary. Sometimes creative descriptions of how much worse it could have been, and Dipper never needed those, at any time. Bill gets oddly fixated on such random little moments, and it’s just -

Dipper doesn’t like it, is all. Bill gets the way he gets, it’s a lot, and it’s easier just to avoid it. If he were a different guy - a human guy, or even mostly-human monster- Dipper might try to talk to him about it.

But Bill’s a demon. Not normal, barely sane even on his best days, and worse, he’s Bill, so. That conversation would go precisely nowhere.

Behind him, he hears said demon approaching, fast. Stupid jerk. He should be as tall as his real form. That’d be fair. More accurate, too, and then Dipper could properly stomp off without Bill catching up so easily.

Already the bastard is by Dipper’s side. A tall, irritating presence. Hovering close without grabbing on, which adds to said irritation.

Dipper leans away, but Bill catches him around the waist and drags him in.

“Don’t get so grumpy, sapling, you’re fine! A little nick in the outer layer rarely killed anyone since they invented antibiotics.” Though he pinches Dipper’s cheek, he yanks his head away with a grunt. Bill sighs. “Everything’s a-okay here! Looks like I don't have to find a replacement just yet.”

Bill’s an idiot. Dipper scoffs, though an unpleasant feeling crawls in his gut. “Oh yeah? Who would you replace me with?”

“Eh, not like I got anyone specific in mind.” Bill waves that off, nonchalant. “But I have options! Lots of options.” He bumps a hip against Dipper. “Keep that in mind before you go charging off into obvious traps.”

This goddamn liar. Dipper elbows him in the side, because the asshole deserves it.

Not that Dipper’s worried, or anything. From what little he’s heard of Bill’s exes in the demonic rumor mill - Bill’s been, as they say, less than successful. Already Dipper’s outstripped his longest by years.. Bill can lie day in and day out about his options, put on a brave face - but they both know he’s not going to find this again. Not easily.

“Good luck finding another husband, asshole.” Dipper says with appropriate derision. It’s annoying that Bill even brought it up. There’s a good riposte in there, somewhere - but while his brain is coming up with an insult, his mouth runs on automatic. “But I was really worried that you would last week. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day until you sent a dick pic. It was weirdly comforting.”

Bill turns toward him with genuine surprise. He even blinks a few times, no retort emerging, and Dipper looks back at him with equal surprise.

Until his mind catches up with what he just said.

Dipper digs his heels in the ground, slamming to a halt. Clapping both hands to his mouth, eyes wide.

Beside him Bill nearly trips at the sudden stop, flailing for balance with a swear.

Shit, shit shit. Dipper really didn’t mean to say that. He knows Bill’s not looking around, that he’s not interested. Cynically, that he couldn’t manage it if he was. Last week was just a one-off anxiety, like all the others Dipper’s brain comes up with when it gets too much free time. Totally irrational, and really hard to stop fixating on.

Bill keeps staring. Not angry, just confused, for long enough that Dipper wants to shrink into the ground and melt into nothingness.

Then he asks, “What the hell, Pine Tree?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know why I thought that. I don’t know why I said that.” Dipper cringes into himself, grimacing and ducking his head. He runs a hand over his slightly sweaty face. “I didn't even want you to know I got hurt.”

At that, Bill snorts. “Oh, please. I’d have seen that first time I got your shirt off. You can’t keep secrets from me!”

Dipper folds his arms, internally seething - and his stupid mouth moves to say, “I’ve done it before.”

This time, the silence is tense.

Dipper wipes his sweating forehead again, not daring to meet Bill’s eye. God he shouldn't have -

Before he can think, he blurts out, “I think something’s wrong.”

“Probably!” Bill agrees, with a smile just a little too sharp. He takes Dipper’s face in both hands, eye narrowed. “Hold still a sec.”

As Bill’s eye flickers blue, and the magic between them surges - Dipper squirms a bit, but. Well. If anything’s wrong with him - magically, anyway - Bill’s the best one to diagnose it..

Bill tilts his head to one side, then the other. After a moment, his mouth twists up into something unpleasant, eye glowing slightly brighter for an instant.

Then he sighs, and lets Dipper go. His expression is neutral, except for the slightest downturn of his mouth. His lips part like he’s about to speak, then twist up into a grimace.

Uh oh.

Whatever Bill saw, he didn’t like it.

“What?” Dipper pats his head, then his chest. If there was something weird, magically about him, he - wouldn’t be able to tell, actually. He’s too close to get a good look. Oh god, what if he did hit his head too hard, and something in his brain is bleeding, or worse. “Wait. Am I dying?”

“Worse! You’re telling the truth.” Bill claps his hands together. Though he’s smiling again, it’s brittle and annoyed. “Don’t suppose you know any curse breakers that aren’t your great-uncle?”

“Not really,” Dipper admits. Bill's words catch up to him, and he bites his lip. Then, because the situation deserves it, “Fuck.”

Protection curse. The tablet.

Damn it.

A part of a horde, from a long time ago. Messed with. It should have been something less awful. Like warts, or sprouting plants from his skin, or a big fireball. Pretty much anything else would be less awful.

Truth curses are rare, they’re difficult as hell - but judging by the words spilling out of Dipper, he’s caught a pretty strong variant.

Of all the curses that could hit him. Why this one.

Hell, maybe it’s intended to be the worst curse possible for the ‘thief’. That would explain how targeted this feels.

And knowing Dipper’s luck, that part was explained on, like, the back of the tablet.

“Welp! Good thing I’m not short on contacts, kid.” Bill grapes his shoulder, shaking him a bit, before he trails an arm over Dipper’s shoulders. “Who wants some fumbling idiot uncle to fix this kinda spell, anyway?”

Dipper would! If it was feasible. He makes a brief attempt at shrugging Bill’s arm up before letting his shoulders slump.

The idea of Ford hearing about this is….

Dipper sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Ford really would have a way around this. He'd certainly have the best intentions, Dipper’s certain. He'd...

Also not have the best sense of boundaries.

Though he'd be doing it for the right reasons, he'd ask the wrong questions. Out of concern, and arguably valid worry; he's never fully believed that Bill can't influence him. Despite how many times Dipper’s tried to explain it to him, Ford just can’t wrap his mind around certain truths.

With this curse, though. Between poor social sense, the Pines curiosity, and what Dipper might blurt out, while compelled to answer -

On this, Dipper agrees with Bill. They’ll have to find something else to break this.

In the meantime, he’ll manage, like he has all the other times his life has sucked. Hardly the worst case scenario. If Bill had been cursed - someone who lies like he breathes - Who knows? Give it a few days, and he might just explode from all the backed up bullshit.

“Wait.” A horrible thought strikes. Dipper reels on his husband, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“What, me? I’m a perfectly moral human man,” Bill says, resting a hand on his chest, lifting his chin with pride. “A boring sentient mammal who’s never found curses entertaining.”

Yep, Bill’s fine. As always, it’s Dipper who gets the short end of the stick.

He breathes in slowly, and lets it out.

Yeah. Still sucks. He’ll deal. Cursed, but not dead. In danger, but not the worst - and his husband’s being annoying, which means he’s perfectly fine. There’s a solution too - it’s just going to be a huge, annoying process getting to it.

“So,” Bill says, slowly. Drawing the word out in a long string, while he finger-walks his arm up around Dipper’s shoulder.

Uh oh.

Speaking of annoying…

“Watch it,” Dipper hunches his shoulders, not daring to look his idiot husband in the eye. “You’re this close to sleeping on the couch for a month.” Not a big enough threat, Bill’s still thinking- “Or for a year.”

“Oh, sure,” Bill says, in a distracted tone. His fingers pause on their walk, one ‘leg’ poised on Dipper’s clavicle. They hold the position for a long moment, tapping out a little marching step - and seconds later, his palm slaps down on Dipper’s shoulder. “So, Pine Tree! How do you feel about this ‘Bill Cipher’ guy?”

Though Dipper resists, and he really tries to, the words slip out past his teeth, his lips form the sounds -

“I love you.” God. Damnit. He clenches his fists, as Bill’s sheer smugness radiates from him like heat. “And I’m thinking about shoving you off a cliff right now.”

When Bill paused, Dipper thought he might have fended this off. Wishful thinking, really, Bill’s almost impossible to stop. Dipper used what leverage he had, but all he’s managed to avoid are the worst, most invasive questions.

When it comes to Bill, that’s pretty close to a win.

Not that it’s going to feel like one.

Bill has, in fact, been encouraged. Now that he’s heard something he likes, he leans in like a weird creep. Dipper can practically hear the leer in his voice. “And on a scale of one to ten, how handsome am I?

“Ten point five,” Dipper needs to loosen his jaw or he might break a filling. Being pumped for information is bad enough without pumping up Bill’s already ridiculous ego. “You bastard.”

Bill’s chest puffs out, there’s a strut in his stride. The grin is so wide now Dipper’s pretty sure it should hurt- and if he dares to pucker up, he’s not getting lips on his awful face. “And am I the most clever and sexually amazing guy in the universe or what?

This time, Dipper snorts.

“Definitely not.” He ignores the sharp, indignant sound next to him, tilting his head in thought. “For one, there’s succubi and incubi, so. Sexually, you’re not even on top amongst demons.” He glances over at the offended ‘o’ of Bill’s mouth. “And I know you’re not the most clever, because I win our debates nearly half the time. Maybe you’re up there, but not the most. And that’s just the surface level stuff.”

Dipper doesn’t have a complete cosmological view of the multiverse, but he has learned a lot. Mostly stuff he picked up from his husband, and demonic gossip. It’s absolutely enough to go on a long, long ramble about how Bill most likely doesn’t rank number one in anything. If Dipper avoids the topics where he actually is.

He’s barely fifteen seconds in before Bill starts scowling, with a grumpy hunch to his shoulders - But screw him.

Dipper starts smiling, just a bit. Then, to be a dick, he adds,

“The ten and a half is just me, anyway. To the average human, you’re maybe an eight..” Dipper continues, over another spluttered protest. Again, true; not everyone likes the slightly inhuman maniac cyclops look. “Six with your personality.”

Bill groans. “Ugh, you pedant.” He squeezes Dipper’s shoulder, jostling him slightly. “C’mon, you know what I meant! What’s the real - “

“Don’t ask questions if you can’t handle the answers,” Dipper warns, jabbing Bill in the chest. So far it hasn’t been too much, but it could be. Time to draw a line. “I will suck so much fun out of this for you.”

Bill Cipher, unintentional teacher once more. Now Dipper knows the curse isn’t about perfect truth. When he can deliberately misinterpret a question’s intent, and can go on tangents - that means he has loopholes. There might even be more, if he tries.

And if they can’t get this settled soon, he’ll need every one of those he can find.

“Clever brat.” Bill’s frowning, but he can’t disguise the amusement in his voice. His eyebrows wiggle, his arm hauling him close - "Go ahead, then. Anything else you wanna share?"

"I know two and half ways to kill you, Bill Cipher." Dipper gets right up in his face. He won’t let Bill push this any further. "Don't tempt me to use them."

Being face to face like this, Dipper watches Bill’s eye go wide - ha, didn’t expect that, did he. With that threat, he’ll -

Start cackling. And weirdly, turn a little pink. Dipper feels all the momentum he had whoosh out of him like sad balloon animal.

“Boy, you are a saucy one!” Bill whistles, low. He places his hands demurely on his cheeks, fluttering his eye at Dipper with amusement. “Oh, yeah. Talk deadly to me.”

By this time, Dipper figures he should be used to stumbling into demonic flirtation. Only it turns out it’s basically fractal in nature, and he keeps running into new and newer edge cases.

“Fun as this is - we gotta get you cleared up, and no time like the present!” Bill’s calmed down enough to scoop an arm around his waist, leading Dipper onward. “Can’t have you babbling everything to everyone, y’know?”

“What, you don’t want me telling you everything?” Total bullshit. Dipper elbows him in the side. “I thought you wanted to get in my head.”

“Hey! I didn’t ask for our game to be set on ‘beginner’ mode. That’s boring.” Bill flicks his fingers - but he’s got his ‘evading questions’ look on. “You’re lucky I’m so- oof.”

Another elbow, harder this time. Bill grunts, but capitulates. Rubbing at his eye briefly, he sighs.

“So! How many of my secrets would you say you know, Pine Tree?” Bill tightens his grip on Dipper’s waist, tugging him closer. “And I’m talking about the ones that I wouldn’t enjoy getting out in the world.”

“More than I can count.” Dipper says without thinking. Then, with thinking - “Oh.”

Dipper hadn’t considered how much Bill’s taught him, before this exact moment. How much he’s learned. Even unintentionally. Especially unintentionally.

Crap, even his threat before was kind of -

Shit. There’s definitely, absolutely, no way can they go to Ford about this. Total recipe for disaster.

“See? We both got liabilities in play here.” Bill moves easily as Dipper picks up the pace. If anything he’s amused, and not feeling nearly as urgent. Another reason he’s an idiot. “All we gotta do is get you patched up quick, and no more loose lips sinking ships! Easy-peasy.”

“It better be,” Dipper mutters. Nothing ever goes right for him. And by extension, them.

“Trust me, kid! I got this handled!” Bill snaps his fingers - and smacks Dipper’s butt with a wink. “I know some guys!”

#answers #Not my best work but I haven't posted in a while so here's a thing!#I will get better at writing I swear #There are references to the whump fic in this just so you know #It is canon that Dipper didn't die but the how and the aftermath are for the sequel #Anyway whump sequel is going decent and I have some ideas for other stuff #Don't worry Dipper Ford wouldn't even think to ask you the questions you're worried about #He assumes that Bill would never ever let you know those facts #And technically Bill never told Dipper either of those two and a half ways but you learn a lot from being married for a few years #I don't have any more interesting tag facts other than that don't expect a timely sequel to this because I have so much stuff to complete #I hope it's at least fun to read!

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uncanny-tranny · 9 months

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The most infuriating form of sanism is this idea that mentally ill people/people with mental disorders are just too stupid or too unenlightened to know how to be a proper, well-adjusted person

So many therapists have ignored signs of my unwellness simply because they assumed I was just... being stupid, and I just needed educating about why I'm acting disordered (apparently, mental disorders stop disordering you once you are condescendingly told why you're just disordered and dumb, who knew (sarcasm)).

Like, I could tell them that I knew my behaviour wasn't "rational," wasn't "reasonable" to do or believe and I'd still be treated like I was so dumb I needed hand-holding and scolding about why I'm acting disordered.

I truly wish that people would be able to take the idea of guidance and stop twisting it into "I am superior and enlightened and the people I am trying to help are stupid and wrong and beneath me!"

#mental health #mental health advocacy #ableism #ableism tw #sanism #sanism tw #yes therapist i was aware that using 1/3 of a bottle of detergent for a medium-sized load of laundry isn't rational...#...and that it could wreck my clothes and my washer (which is why i brought it up in the first place. because i knew it wasn't right)...#...like that's an example and it's SO infuriating just how high of a horse some professionals (and even laypeople) put themselves on...#...like when you stop viewing patients as PEOPLE who need guidance and start viewing them as essentially helpless idiots you have a problem #and that problem should either be addressed or you should leave the practice utterly if you're a licensed professional #call me crazy but i don't think this attitude is conducive to the PATIENT'S well-being #the PATIENT is the person who matters. the PATIENT is the most important part of this ENTIRE interaction #the instance i was thinking about in this tag rant fucking *destroyed* my trust in that therapist #because it just told me that i wasn't being seen as a *person* but as an *issue*#and regardless of if that was their intention i still don't think it was appropriate #you can have the *best* intentions and still be ignorant and say/do ignorant things. even with the best intentions #having 'good intentions' does not absolve you of harm or absolve you of the capability TO harm #another reason i Do Not Like CBTherapy

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panncakes · 1 month

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listen i would've supported 23.5 no matter how terrible it might've been and i will continue to support it no matter which route it takes; but i am incredibly happy that it starts sweet and gentle and goofy as all queer high school romances deserve to be 🥰

#23.5 the series #23.5 degrees #i adore that altho it is shown that ongsa is having a hard time settling in and finding her place and we are told this has always been #the case for her #it is also immediately shown that there is kindness and friendship and care in this new universe for her if she is able to reach back to #those reaching out to her #i adore that they use slightly unhinged over the top moments to highlight the genuine awkwardness and terror of being a teenage girl #and even more so a queer teenage girl #i have already seen people call out the over the top 'weirdness' as too much #(tho too much is never quite called out as much in male performance bc the threshold for too much is so much lower for women huh)#but that is genuinely how it feels in that moment tho isnt it #everything is so heightened and over the top and everything is the WORST and the BEST #and you are the only outsider even tho you're not #like not to project too much meaning onto the silly little gl romcom #but it feels really genuine even in its silliness and i appreciate that so much #and i have genuine good hope for a quiet small sapphic romcom set in highschool

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softesttangerines · 6 months

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As someone who LOVES a good old time travel au, and after seeing amazing fanart of kid!Mihawk i have to let it out!!

I just wanna read a time travel fic where baby Mihawk wakes up and finds himself in the world of adult Mihawk and he's like wtf is going on?

And word goes around that a kid that looks exactly like Hawkeyes and carries the same cross knife as him is roaming around this island and rumors say it's the son he abandoned to fend for himself.

And so, marines and every pirates he ever wronged come after him for revenge and the little guy is just thinking why is everyone trying to get me? While doing his best with his cross dagger to rid of them.

And Shanks, good ol' shanks could have sworn that if his old rival had an 9years old, he would know about it (also he refuses to let the bitter taste in his heart take over unless his own eyes see) so he's skeptical about the whole thing and that's the only thing that gets him to leave his hideout in a reclused ghost island waiting for whatever is his big plan to take place.

News say Red Shanks is on the move after being mia for a few years and everyone got their panties in a twist, what could have raised the emperor from the dead.

He follows from island to island because apparently the young boy knows how to avoid the marines and pirates coming after him.

Till one night, on their stop at some bar on an island that wasn't really on the plan, he sees the boy. Just outside the bar in an alley, where he went to empty his guts from the booze overfilling his body, there stood bloody faced, cross dagger in one hand, a tiny version of his old rival with a bounty hunter's body at his feet.

The boy furrows his eyebrows even more at the new arrival and strikes another pose in case the new guy tries something funny. But Shanks, drunk ass Shanks, who knows his rival by heart is a 100% sure the little guy is in fact his rival for whatever magical reason, there he stands in front of him in the form of an 9years old and Shanks giggles at that -to which the child takes great offense- and just say "hey kid, i'm a friend of your dad's, want me to take you to him?"

#mishanks #Ok so here I'm running with the fandom's theory that rayleigh is mihawk's dad #And after getting all these murder attempts on his person he's just so fckn tired of anyone that approaches him So he's completely on guard #when this red haired dude comes out of nowhere n tells him he knows his dad #Which no one did before all they did was charge at him screaming HAWKEYES YOU'RE GONNA REGRET WHAT YOU DID #And here's the thing #he may be inclined to believe the red haired guy because no one knows his relation to rayleigh #so this guy must really know his dad and he's tired of running all the time he just wants his bed and parents #so cut him some slack when he follows a random one armed red haired pirate #On the other hand the crew is equally creeped out and charmed by the little fella because even young he still installs the chills in them #How can he be as equally as skilled as he is cuuuuute #They try their best not to say it to his face because he threatens to stab them at any given chance but they cant HELP IT #it's Dracule Fucking Mihawk as an 9years old!!!! Ofc he's cute #Shanks cant fucking wait to get his adult Mihawk back to tease the shit out of him about the little version of him lol #When they got him to rayleigh he fckn cried because that's his fckn son znd the last time he saw hus baby that way was more than 30years ag #Mihawk is just confused as fuck why is his dad's grey n have much more wrinklesBut it's still one familiar face so he just sticks to him #The red haired pirate keeps telling him that he should look for him when he gets home but he doesn't understand!!!#He also keeps challenging shanks on a duel once he discovers he's a swordsman and keeps on losing #And truth be told shanks is embarrassed as fuck because it took him his rival being a child for him to win over mihawk #opla #one piece #mihawk #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #shanks

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shinozaki-ayumi · 4 months

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i was skimming a blood drive stream (mostly looking for ayushiki crumbs, it's been a while) and was reminded of one of the best interactions in the franchise

#''i know you're stuck in a torture school full of unspeakable horrors but how've you been?''#girlfailure ayumi i love you #also i remembered there being ayushiki crumbs but i did NOT remember how much??!!!??#their interactions are the best part of the game easily #but the part where she goes to his apartment in the middle of the night and basically starts to admit smth to him about how she felt #about when he told her to reach out to him whenever she needs support and he did the head pat thing #and he 1) forgot that even happened?? somehow??#and 2) he's like ''i feel like i'm supposed to be reading between the lines rn but i'm so lost''#LIKE YOU'RE SO DUMB... YOU'RE BOTH SOO DUMB AGFDGJGRHHHH #i need closure in darkness distortion i am telepathically begging kedwin to please let her get better so they can get a mildly happy ending

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sunshinediaz · 8 months

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wip wednesday

tagged by @wikiangela whose car sex fic has me SAT

i started the heart attack fic for bthb, but i'm gonna keep that to myself until it's finished and posted because i’m very insecure lmao, so have a little bit of eddie vs the hoa

“You sound jealous.” Eddie balks, insulted at the mere suggestion that he’s jealous of somebody as contemptuous as Abbie Jean Gentry. “I am not!” He snorts. “I have never in my thirty-two years of life—count ‘em, thirty-two—I have been shot and stuck beneath the ground and lost my wife and been to war, but I have never, ever been jealous of anybody, and especially not motherfucking—” “Could’ve fooled me,” Buck interrupts, elbowing him in the side and motioning with his head at the woman walking up to their stall. “Hi, Mrs. Gentry.” Abbie Jean Gentry is a beautiful, chubby woman with long, curling black hair and big, light green eyes. Her voice is deep and her laugh is infectious and she pulls off heels just as well as sneakers; she commands any room she walks into and makes sure to shake the hands of every person she meets and does her best to help solve whatever problem she’s faced with. She’s not a bad person. Eddie can’t stand her. “Hi, Buck.” She smiles, all straight white teeth, and Eddie remembers the two years he wore braces with disdain. His sisters were ruthless when they made fun of him. “How are you?” “Enjoying all these sweet treats,” Buck says, laughing, and hands the last sugar cookie off to one of the little kids that were following Chris around earlier. “Looks like the sale’s going well.” She nods, appraising the fish bowl full of paper bills and coins at the edge of their table. It’s not as full as hers—she’s probably so proud. “It’s going even better than I expected,” she agrees, judging their clutter of cupcakes and broken cookies. “Did you make these yourself, Buck?” “Huh? Oh, no.” Buck grins, hooking his thumb toward Eddie. “Eddie helped.” Abbie Jean Gentry blinks, feigning surprise. “Oh, Mr. Diaz.” She smiles, close-mouthed and thin. “I didn’t see you there.” Funny. Eddie’s standing right next to Buck, near enough their shoulders are touching. One can’t notice and speak with Buck without noticing the other. Eddie curls his lip up. “I’m sure you didn’t.” Buck elbows Eddie again, hard enough to hurt this time. “You’ll have to excuse him,” he says, giving her his best grin and wow, his best friend is a suck up. “We stayed up late last night finishing the cookies and cupcakes, and he hasn’t had anything to eat today except sweets.”

this fic accidentally turned into a whole thing so we’ll see where it goes

no pressure tagging: @disasterbuckdiaz, @thewolvesof1998, @wildlife4life, @alyxmastershipper because i saw you say something about sub eddie 👁️, @shitouttabuck, @eddiediaztho 💜, @diazblunt, @watchyourbuck, @try-set-me-on-fire, @honestlydarkprincess, @housewifebuck, and uh whoever else 🫶🏼

#listen eddie's a piece of WORK in this fic #he's so fucking. man goes and buys a new house because his bff says the kitchen in his current home is too small.#said man does not realize what that means to said bff and the rest of their family.#and then he goes and fights the hoa??? because why the hell CAN'T he have a bbq in his backyard what the fuck???#you're telling eddie diaz he can't have a bbq or cameras or park his truck *like that*?#YOU'RE TELLING EDDIE DIAZ HE HAS THREE TICKETS WITHIN THE FIRST WEEK OF LIVING IN THE NEW HOUSE?#man mows his yard and then accidentally spends the whole day mowing everybody else's yards too bc he sees 1 snake and he's not having it #and to top it all off he's being told he's in love with his best friend???#god give the dude a break there's only so much he can take at one time #accepting he's in love with buck is second on the list #the first is making sure the goddamn dryer dries his clothes because he's not buying another one!!!#tag games

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sunricgod · 1 year

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imagine vance, half drunk, going to bruce and whispering “you're so cool” to their face and leaving, leaving behind him a surprised yet flustered bruce.

#he/they bruce solos #i just love this #being told you're cool is the best compliment #in my opinion at least #trans pride #brance #bruce yamada #vance hopper #finbin #rinney #finney blake #robin arellano #billy showalter #griffin stagg #the black phone

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punkeropercyjackson · 3 months

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"We need more m/f ships that aren't heternormative or enforce gender stereotypes!!!"You guys couldn't even handle Todomomo

#NAH CAUSE Y'ALL NIGGAS REALLY THREW THAT WORD AT THEM NONSTOP WITH LITERALLY NO BACKING #point to me at a point in the story-i'll even let you use noncanon stuff-where shouto and momo's genders are brought up to their dynamic #you're gonna be searching forever because that never happened even once.SO MANY scenes of them being good best friends to eachother #and not a single one of them indicated they're in love because he's a boy and she's a girl.they don't give a FUCK about that stop projecting #we're literally told and more importantly SHOWN they're close bc of mutual admiration what sweeties they are to and fun they have together #and that they make make eachother feel understood and NORMAL.'heteronormative' my ass tdmm is the most t4t and autistic4autistic ship ever #lower your voice when you speak about them-especially if you stan hawks' dudebro cop ass and think dabitwice or minajirou are platonic #todomomo my darlings i'm so sorry the bnha fandom treated you so horribly because they couldn't accept that not every m/f ship is cishet #or that not every same gender relathionship is realistically queer instead of stereotyping and f*tishization #todomomo #t4t todomomo #todomomo protection squad #todoroki shouto #momo yaoyorozu #half bangladeshi rei agenda #blasian latina momo #trans todoroki #trans momo yaoyorozu #autistic todoroki #autistic momo yaoyorozu #adhd momo #momo yaoyorozu has ocd #momo yaoyorozu has anxiety #goth punk todoroki shouto #pastel punk momo yaoyorozu #agere flips!todomomo #tea blend crew #bnha geekery #💌#summerposting

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 1 month

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I have thoughts about the TTPD speculation/two years/loneliness/sharing feelings through songs train but I'm putting them under a cut because. Yeah.

OK, so I'm giving a warning:

I'm talking about BTTWS, but NOT about the speculation/inspiration behind it. Just about the feelings in it and the Midnights of it all/the idea that sharing the difficult things brings comfort/companionship. So getting that out of the way so we can remove that part of the discourse out of it.

Regardless of whatever the inspiration/event behind BTTWS may be, whether it's about a loved one or personal, I've long felt that its inclusion on Midnights, an album about things that have kept her up at night, is significant in the feelings it portrays.

For instance, we can be fairly certain that Taylor wasn't actually turning in Scooter B. to the FBI and conspiring with his ex-wife to bring him down (or was she?) in Vigilante Shit, just as we can safely guess that she probably did actually pick up that pebble in Wicklow that reminded her of a peaceful time in Sweet Nothing. The line between fiction/reality, personal vs. narrative matters less on Midnights in this case than the feelings she was expressing in the songs, which are very personal and truthful. The revenge fantasy in Vigilante Shit is her working through her anger over having her masters stolen and how she's fought hard to have the last laugh over someone who is a sworn enemy. Sweet Nothing is her reflecting on the dichotomy of her (presumed) quiet home life she felt was safe and the noise of the outside world. (Now, we might speculate on why she was ruminating on this, but that's another story.)

So with that preamble out of the way, BTTWS's inclusion in the tracklist I feel is just as important, again regardless of the inspiration behind it or her personal connection to it. Even if it is a song about someone other than herself, including it as the only "not personal/not diaristic" song on an album as ostensibly self-reflective as Midnights would stick out if that were thecase, though obviously it's her album so she can do whatever she wants and could have her own reasons. (Just like she included Ronan on Red and Soon You'll Get Better on Lover about similar themes, it could just be a tribute to a loved one.) But given all the thematic arcs and parallels on Midnights, I do feel like it's there to include a specific set of feelings being processed, even if the origin on the feelings may or may not be her own. (I'm trying to be really sensitive in my word choices here, hope they make sense.)

BTTWS is a song about loss and grief, and specifically the fallout of an event outside of her/the narrator's control. The person in the song has nothing to turn to to deal with their pain: no faith to guide them, no wisdom to tell them everything will be alright. Throughout the song there is a pervasive sense of isolation: everything is over, they're living without something that was once theirs but suddenly was not. It captures the fog and confusion of living through a painful event without having any way to process. She even says from the start that, "no words appear before me in the aftermath," which for someone like Taylor who has stated over and over how writing is literally how she processes her life would be the ultimate reflection of the depths of her hurt.

(To be clear I do not think this is a song about a breakup whatsoever: IMO it clearly is not about a relationship dissolution of any kind. I just think that the feelings of grief and loneliness in the song may have felt relevant to whatever she was going through during the time the album was coalescing in 2021-22.)

Knowing what we know now about at the very least the period between 2021-2023, Taylor was going through a time of significant difficulty in her life behind the scenes, which is how The Tortured Poets Department came to be, right on the heels of her completing Midnights sometime in early 2022. She has said herself that making TTPD was a lifeline, that she had to keep writing to deal with whatever it was that she was experiencing and going through. And as I posted about earlier today, she's also said repeatedly on tour that not only is writing about her feelings how she processes her pain and loneliness, but that then sharing that music with fans brings her great comfort because it makes her feel less lonely to know people understand and relate to what she's going through.

And we know that she has self-edited her albums over the years (including Midnights) to protect herself and perhaps even the subjects of her songs, which we have seen with the inclusion of the vault/bonus tracks in the re-records and on Midnights. Obviously some of these reasons are logistical -- album was too long, cut songs sounded too much like others, maybe she or her producers felt the ones that were originally chosen were stronger, narrative or sonic cohesion, etc. -- but with what we've seen over the last few years, these songs also filled in the lines of the stories being told and reframed the narrative being told.

Nowhere is that clearer than with You're Losing Me, for example. It's pretty obvious why it was held back: presumably she wouldn't want to release a song about a relationship at its breaking point when she was still actively in the relationship. Yet as soon as the relationship ended, she released it, we can only assume because of her realization that sharing the music and having people respond to it validates her feelings and makes her feel embraced, as it were. Then with the announcement of TTPD and how it's been brewing for essentially the intervening period between when YLM was written and now, we can also surmise that these songs will be dealing with feelings she also felt the need to hold back for whatever reason at the time, but has now decided should be out there so she can feel more whole.

So coming back to BTTWS, it being included on Midnights the way that it was strikes me as a form of sharing feelings that may have been too difficult to process. Again, not implying I have any insight into what the origin of the song is about, or imposing my own beliefs onto her, or that she was sending some sort of secret message with its inclusion! But thematically, BTTWS deals with an intense loss and feeling completely unmoored and alone as a result, which is present in her other work. And that the dreams the narrator once held have gone up in smoke, leaving her reeling about what's to come next. She's cut off from the world because of the event, unable to speak about or grasp what has happened. Similar feelings are also explored in You're Losing Me for instance, and even Dear Reader (not to mention on past albums like evermore, this is my trying, arguably hoax, etc.). Just reading context clues from TTPD and her surprise song choices of late, I don't think it's outrageous to presume some of those emotions are going to be present on the new album as well.

So this is just a long-winded way of saying, I feel like the sense of loss, confusion and uncertainty about the future likely resonated with both what she had gone through in the past, and the story as a whole she was trying to tell on Midnights. And while the origin may or may not be personal or relevant to the new story she's going to tell, I also feel like these same kinds of themes are going to be present on TTPD because they're so important for her to share. (I could even mention that the response to BTTWS may even provide evidence that people sharing their experiences in general brings comfort to those going through it, but that may be veering too far into parasocial "why did Taylor do X" speculative territory.) She sings about these kinds of all-consuming losses so eloquently and mindfully that I know the new album is going to be an absolute gut punch.

(not being self-promotional but I delved a little deeper into the Midnights 3am tracks including this one a few months ago so it's why it's top of mind and why the connections and thematic parallels are so resonant to me lately.)

#sorry i tried to tread very carefully so i hope it still makes sense #i know we all kind of talk around this stuff so I was trying to do the same #while leaving room for interpretation and not getting stuck on the content!#i'm just talking about mood here etc #me thinking too hard about taylor lyrics #writing letters addressed to the fire #midnights #putting it under a cut may have been overkill on my part #but just trying to be mindful of people's dashboards etc #you're losing me #ylm #bttws #bigger than the whole sky #(bttws is a song i have thoughts on but not thoughts about its origin so much as its *metaphorical* (? idk) or perhaps narrative importance #(but it's hard to talk about it without the discussion turning into one about its origin)#(so this is my best attempt to do so)#just clarifying there is no speculation or discussion here just talk about themes #it’s not about the event it’s about the story being told in midnights

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