#and he kinda faded away a bit for a few months and now he's back and i feel whole again

[softhairedhotch]

aaron feels so, so real to me... like, maybe i'm just delusional and silly but when i imagine scenarios, i can see him so perfectly and i really do feel like he's here with me. i can imagine being with him in almost every scenario and even when i'm thinking of something else, it feels like he's always beside me. maybe i'm a lil crazy, maybe i'm a lil cuckoo, but one thing i know for sure is that aaron hotchner makes me so inexplicably happy and i am so glad i found him. hopefully in another universe i truly do have him by my side <3

#just a bit sensitive today guys sorry #he's just #idk #i really do love him a lot #and he kinda faded away a bit for a few months and now he's back and i feel whole again #honestly feels like we went through a breakup and just got back togehter and everything's good ahan #ive been going through a lot in my personal life recently and i immediately turned to latch back onto aaron a #and im just grateful for his existence #sorry for the ramble #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #thomas gibson #cas talks

[petriwriting]

Jealous. - Theodore Nott X Reader

A/N: I haven't written here yet I don't think, but yeah. Didn't proofread and it's aggressively unedited, but in honor of Halloween and just October in general I've been rewatching Harry Potter.... so. kinda of based on a personal experience but not really lol.

Summary: Theo and Y/N are best friends, dating other people to make each other jealous. -*cheating, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort. partying, Slytherins being devious as usual. I'd like to imagine Y/N and Theo dated and broke up prior but use your imagination. Italian!Theo, obvi Lorenzo Zurzolo.

Theo was sat at the Slytherin table, with his new girlfriend. Y/N was seated in direct sight of him, at the Gryffindor table. Seated next to Cormac McLaggen, a tall handsome Gryffindor with his arm slung around y/n's shoulder. He watched as y/n would smile, fake a laugh, and flirt with the blonde boy. Theo wouldn't dare admit to his jealousy though, he wondered if y/n was even still his best friend, they'd grown so distant in the past few months, and they barely spoke aside from their classes together. It wasn't until his girlfriend, Astoria Greengrass asked him a question that he was pulled out of his jealous haze. "T, can we talk later?" she turned her eyes towards Theodore, who was a bit surprised. "of course. Is everything alright?" he asked, he felt as though he was operating on autopilot, He wanted to be a good boyfriend because the poor girl deserved someone who treated her right, but it didn't feel right, his heart wasn't in it and his attention was elsewhere making him feel a bit guilty. Astoria was a sweet girl, younger than Theo, but she already had an excellent reputation around school. she was smart, kind, and thoughtful. all the things that would make a great girlfriend, but Theodore knew deep down he was being facetious. there was a short pause, and Astoria's smile faded quickly, "I'd just like to talk with you about something." she said softly, somewhat disappointed. Theo nodded. The couple continued their meal, Theo being a bit more quiet than usual.

Y/n sat with the Gryffindors almost every day because of Cormac, a sometimes arrogant and always rowdy bunch. Cormac had asked y/n out a few months ago, and things had been steady. But Cormac was becoming very distant and wasn't as talkative and open. Y/n was onto him, hoping to catch him in a lie or a secret somehow although they both spoke about how happy they were. It wasn't until later in the evening, when Cormac said he'd walk y/n to the dorms from an evening meeting. But he wasn't there, this had been happening recently. Cormac would say he's in one place while being in another. Y/n heard it from friends and gossip around the school. So on this particular evening, it was incredibly frustrating. Y/n had to catch one of Cormac's quidditch teammates in the hall to ask where he could be. "He said he was with you, actually." his teammate said. "sorry." Y/n just smiled. disappointing. "it's not your fault. but thanks."

With a huge sigh, y/n decided to just head back to their cozy room to relax for the evening but to clear their head, y/n took the long way home, wandering around the winding corridors around campus. It was a peaceful walk, quiet and unbothered until y/n heard some voices in a small hallway nearing the Slytherin dungeon. hushed, secretive, quiet. Y/n heard the distinct sound of a muffled giggle, and someone whispering sweet nothings through a smile. Not wanting to be nosy, y/n considered turning back so as to not disturb them, immediately hiding in an adjacent corridor. but then, it was even more distinct. Cormac fucking McLaggen. "you know I really like you." he said, "We shouldn't be doing this... what about your girlfriend?" the girl smiled again, you could hear it in her voice. Y/N's heart sank. "Don't worry about her, I only care about you right now." Y/n, with tears in her eyes revealed themself. Cormac immediately pulled his arms away from the girl. It was a petite brunette girl in Cormac's Gryffindor sweater, y/n could tell because it was huge on the girl. The girl gasped, embarrassed. Cormac turned to y/n, "What are you doing here!" he stammered. Y/n had tears streaming down their face. "you were supposed to walk me home. you were supposed to be with me!" Y/n raised their voice in an emotional moment like this, all y/n wanted to do was lie down and cry. "Listen, it's not what it looks like... I- just," Cormac sighed running his hands through his hair. "we were just talking about an assignment, and-" He was cut off by y/n "Don't lie to me. You are so superficial. I can't stand you," The girl awkwardly started to walk away, not wanting to be involved in the situation at all, y/n didn't even know who she was, and couldn't exactly place her name. She was scarily familiar. Cormac was speechless, caught in the act. "Just leave me alone!" Y/n shouted, running off in tears, barely able to breathe. Cormac didn't bother to go after her. She was pacing forward quickly to get back to their room before anyone saw her like that, a total mess with tears streaming down her face, too upset to even think straight.

Thud! . . .

Y/N had run right into none other than Theodore Nott. Y/n looked up, their face was red, flushed and the tears stained their cheeks. without a word Theo embraced y/n tightly in comfort. "hey, Caro, it's okay." it was sentimental, comforting, and it felt safe. Y/n pulled back after a moment, catching their breath. "What happened?" Theo asked, there was a genuine worry in his tone. "I just caught Cormac in the hall with some girl." y/n sighed, breath shaking. "Y/n, I'm so sorry," Theo turned his head, he was sympathetic. but with how distant he had been y/n wasn't in the mood for romance like that anymore. "what are you doing here anyway," Y/n said, rubbing the tears from their tired eyes. "Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?". Theo shrugged. "she broke up with me." Y/N's expression hardened. "I'm sorry," y/n uttered quietly. "She said she was falling in love with someone else," Theo explained, attempting to turn the focus on his own issues for y/n's benefit to make them feel better about their own awful situation. "Astoria was right though, we just weren't right for each other." Y/n folded their arms in the chilly hall. It made sense Theo was wandering these halls, he was a Slytherin after all and he would often sneak around those halls to smoke cigarettes. "I'm not too upset over it, honestly. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her." Theo admitted. "why?" y/n asked, talking to Theo always made y/n feel better after a rough day. "I just don't love her the way I should, and honestly I've been thinking about someone else. She used a suffocating amount of hair products anyway," Theo chuckled, delighted to see y/n crack a small chuckle. "I'm not too down," he said. "I'm really sorry to hear that, teddy." y/n said. teddy was a nickname y/n had for him since they were first years, and no one else would dare call him that. "It's alright." y/n looked down. "So who is this someone else you're into these days?" Y/n offered, trying to continue the conversation. "well, it doesn't matter." Theo said quickly. "Shall I walk you back to your room?" he offered.

Theo walked y/n home that night, rather than their now ex-boyfriend. y/n was heartbroken, but their feelings for Theo weren't well hidden. y/n was a bit hurt hearing that Theo was supposedly in love with someone else, but it would take some time to heal, and it would certainly be one day at a time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------*I usually don't write part 2 for my writing but maybe if this is well received I'll pick up and start writing again, I've really enjoyed it. Let me know! :) hope you guys liked it.

#Theodore Nott #Theodore Nott x reader #Theodore Nott x y/n #hp #hp x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader #y/n #x reader #my writing #reader insert #x y/n

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the downpour

lilac, chapter seven

a/n: everybody, calm down! deep breath! because it's happening!!!

summary: “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, real name reveal, kissing, only one bed, rain and thunder

word count: 2400

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Gently clamping down on the break, your bike slowly rolled to a stop.

“Pete!” you hopped off before the bicycle had come to a complete standstill, “hi!”

Craning his head out from under the hood of his truck, a faint smile appeared upon the burly man’s lips as he greeted, “hey,” seemingly taken aback by your arrival, riding through the forest just as the sun had nearly set completely.

Glancing to the twisted innards of his vehicle, you exhaled, “oh no, what’s wrong with your car?”

Seizing a dirtied rag that hung over the top, Pete then wiped his grease-covered hands with it, “I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it quite yet,” blinking down at his broad palms as he cleaned the viscous substance off them. 

“Is there like some car illness going around here or something?” you joked as your heel popped out the stand on your bicycle, balancing it before you stepped closer to the lumberjack. 

“What, is yours still at the shop? It’s been months!”

“It’s something about a specific part not being in production anymore so they had a really hard time finding it,” you grumbled, “and then they finally did but it’s coming all the way from Germany and it’s just a whole thing…”

Sliding your fingers into your pockets, exhaling slowly as you let the infuriating car trouble simmer back down, you heard Pete ask, “so, did you just come over here, late at night, to talk about cars?”

“Well, it is my absolute favourite subject ever,” you joked, adding sarcastically, “I know just so much about cars…” blinking up into his dark eyes, you then let the antic fade away, “no, I just finally measured those rooms and it turns out they are both big enough for double beds.”

“Oh, great,” his eyebrows rose softly in recognition. 

“I’m really sorry it took this long,” you averted your gaze, looking to the grass below as your fingers found an old and crumbled shopping list at the very bottom of your jacket’s pocket, “it was so kind of you to offer to make some new furniture for the place, I should have given you all the information needed so much earlier.”

“It's fine, it’s just a few bedframes, some shelves and such, nothing fancy,” he calmed your edgy nervous system, “I’ve gotten plenty done already without knowing all the information, but now that I do, I can finish, so thank you,” dipping his head a little lover to catch your gaze, he then offered graciously, “you wanna take a look? It’s not done yet, but it might give you an idea.” 

“Yeah, sure,” the smile that blossomed on your lips was impossible to hide, following his long stride as he marched into the open shed-like structure just behind where the car was parked. To the immediate right, tall stacks of firewood laid to cure, a dark tarp draped over one of the piles, but the earthy scent your nose picked up on was heavenly and caused a bit of tenseness, you hadn’t noticed haunted your shoulders, to fade away. 

“So, I cut out the side panels, legs and such for the beds since I didn’t know how wide they needed to be,” your vision flickered away from the various tools that hung up on peg boards on one of the walls, and fixated instead on the planks of well-carved wood that Pete presented, lifting one of them a few inches off the work table for you to take a look, “but this is kinda what’s going on so far, still need to sand it a bit more, put a stain on it, of course assemble it, but yeah, I hope this can work.”

“Wow, wait,” you craned down, pushing your wide eyes closer to the unfinished yet beautifully crafted pieces, “you made this?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged softly, “I mean, I can change it if you don’t like it–”

“I was fully expecting you just slap a few two-by-fours together and call it a bed,” you interrupted, momentarily tearing your eyes away from the timber to stress, “happily so might I add, but this is like actual furniture…” your fingers ghosted over the smoothed surface, “you’re really good at this.”

“Well, I do work with wood for a living,” he joked, head cocking to the side. 

“Do you sell these kinds of things?”

“No, no,” he glanced down at the way the fingernail on his thumb was absentmindedly digging into the opposing palm, “stuff like this is just a way to keep my hands busy.” 

“Well,” you glanced up into his eyes, “if you wanted to then you could easily make a pretty penny…” a gentle smile accompanied your genuine compliment, his own lips swiftly mirroring the same curve as he let out a wispy exhale. 

Just then, a crack of thunder echoed from somewhere in the distance. Whipping your head around to glance out the wide-open door, it took mere seconds for the abrupt rain to go from a gentle drizzle to a violent downpour. 

“Oh my god,” your feet carried you a few meters, shoulders jumping faintly as another bolt of lightning shot out from the dark clouds above. 

Eyes too glued to the skies, you felt Pete’s touch find your shoulder as he uttered, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly, “good idea,” before your feet practically sprinted all the way up to the cabin’s humble porch, like a small child in the middle of the night, scared of whatever shadow monsters you thought to be real. Heading in first, Pete was right on your tail as you held the front door open a moment for him, swiftly slamming it shut behind him as giddiness coursed through your veins, “oh my goodness,” you squealed, curling your toes in your wet shoes, “I had no idea it was gonna rain!” casting your vision out the window, you let out an enchanted gasp as you spotted another thunderous bolt appear, “oh, Pete, look! That was such a close one,” your fingers found the windowsill as you muttered in amazement, “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

Not truly present, you then heard him utter, “…Frank.”

“Huh?” you finally glanced back at him, noticing how sober his features suddenly were. 

“My name,” he breathed, noticeably having trouble looking you in the eye, “it’s not Pete, it’s Frank.”

“What?” you blinked, the thrilling weather abruptly forgotten, “what do you mean your name is Frank?”

As you gently inched closer, perplexity muddling your features, he hesitantly shared, “I did some shit, things that some people high up doesn’t want the public to know about, so I get to be Pete while they get to not be humiliated by their own actions.”

Lips slightly parted, a dazed breath escaped your lungs, “I–…” utterly stunned, your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to comprehend the bomb he’d just dropped, “alright… alright…” a headache nearly plagued your cranium from how tensely your eyebrows were knitted together, “I-I don’t know what say,” you squinted back at the man before you, “no one’s ever–… wow… your name is Frank?” he hesitantly offered you a light nod in confirmation, “Frank… Frank…” you heard yourself hazily repeat, tasting the new, and oddly fitting, name on your tongue. 

He didn’t utter a single word as you just stood there, doing your best to digest the staggering information. 

It took a long time for you to hear the rumbling rain again, your whole body frozen as you tried to relearn what was up and what was down. 

You had no idea how long the deafening silence drew out. Could have been a whole week for all you knew. But when your lips eventually parted once more, the breathless words that then spilt out couldn’t help but come straight from your heart. 

“You–… you scare me…” catching his weary gaze, you uttered with glossy eyes, “the way that you make me feel, that scares me so much…” your tainted track record caused your body to feel as if you could faint at any moment, “I didn’t expect–, I certainly didn’t plan for this, any of this, you. I didn’t expect you to–…” the rest of your confession then faded away as the boldness of what soon fluttered out of you took even you by surprise, “can–… can I kiss you?” scarcely drawing breath as you glanced back at him in apprehension, “because I really can’t tell if it’s okay or not, if you–” 

Seizing your fretful face in his hands, Frank promptly drew you in and drowned out the paralyzing worries that fluttered your system as his lips pressed against your own. 

You heard him draw in a deep breath through his nose, as if it was the very first oxygen he had let his lungs have in a whole lifetime. Your shoulders swiftly relaxed, noticeably dropping beneath where his rough palms gently cupped your flush cheeks, not only handling you, but kissing you as if you were made out of glass. 

As you eventually felt him gently draw back, you couldn’t help but dive back in, clutching his shirt and crashing your lips back against his in a kiss so fierce you nearly lost your footing. 

When you finally did part ways, you felt Frank’s broad thumb trace your bottom lip, staring at it a moment before his enchanted eye flicked up to meet yours.

Breathless and absolutely spellbound, gazing back at him, you eventually heard yourself utter barely above a whisper, “…the–, the rain…” you felt his heavy breath fan across your blush, “I should probably wait it out…” the undertaking of letting go of the soft cotton of his shirt seemed an impossible task, “might be dangerous riding home in this weather, especially on the tiny paths I’d have to take, they get so muddy, and it gets too easy to just slip and fall and if it happens at some of the areas that are kind of cliffy, then it could quickly turn into something bad…” you rambled as it felt like his gaze pierced directly into your soul, “and also the lightning? I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna get stuck, that doesn’t sound very nice…”

“Might not be over till morning, though…” he pointed out, “you’re welcome to just sleep here if you want, I mean, nothing like that,” he reeled back a bit, wincing at the unintentional innuendo, “I wasn’t insinuating–,” but the end of his sentence didn’t get a chance to see the light of day as you raised yourself up onto your tip toes and planted a kiss of not only gratitude against his soft lips. 

The low groan that then rumbled deep within his throat sent a dizzying flutter down your abdomen, all collecting right between your thighs. As your lips consequently parted to let out a foggy whimper, you felt his nature instinctively seize the opportunity and sneak his tongue in to explore your own, intoxicatingly dancing, savouring your taste, as his hands began to wander, attempting to pull your form as close to him as physically possible.

At first, you thought you’d fallen, but then when you felt the cool counter beneath your bottom, you realized that he’d hoisted you up there, slotting himself in between your parted limbs as you held onto the sides of his face, fingers weaving into his scraggly beard. 

Panting, your chin abruptly tilted to the side, denying yourself of anymore before you got too far to be able to stop yourself. Eyes only half open, you felt his bulbous nose stay pressed against your cheek, lingering in your warmth for as long as he could.

“It’s getting late,” you breathed heavily, steadying yourself with a hand on either side of his broad shoulders, “we should probably go to sleep…”

As your neck began to straighten back out, his answer washed over you, sounding just as hazy as you had, “right,” one of his palms absentmindedly brushed the wild hair out of your face as you parted ways, “yeah…” pupils eclipsing the warmth of his eyes, you watched as he drew in on last breath before enclosing his grasp around your waist, helping you back down onto the floor, “you go on and take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No way,” a breathless chuckle bubbled out of you as you shook your head, “I’ll take the couch, I insist, I can’t put you out like that. I’m shorter than you anyway, so I’ll fit better,” you reached back to grasp the table behind you just in case the room decided to spin out from under you, “and if you give me your bed then I’ll just purposely stay up all night, not even sleep a second. So, if you want me to get some rest, then let me take the couch.”

Gazing back at you, a faint smile then warmed his features, “alright,” the vision not helping in the slightest at settling the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Do you maybe have a shirt or something I could borrow? Just so that I don’t sleep in damp clothes…” 

“Oh yeah,” the tiny task seemingly helped to take the edge off of Frank’s own fuzzy high, “I’ll, uhm…” he turned his back to you and wandered a few paces before he entered the far room, stopping before the tall wooden wardrobe visible from the doorway. Like his shadow, you slowly followed him, stopping just in the opening as you watched him pull out a black, folded-up item of clothing, “here,” he turned and handed the worn t-shirt to you, his touch lingering just a second, fingertips ghosting against the back for your palm. 

“Thank you, Frank,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around it and hugging it close to your chest like a teddy bear. 

“No problem,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bed in the corner of the room, juxtaposing crumbled linen sprawled atop the twisted iron frame made for quite the inviting image, even if you didn’t account for the actual dream that slumbered there every night, “the, uh, the bathroom is right through there, so you can just–, while I find you some blankets and such.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au

[lila-lou]

✨FaceTime✨

Summary: Jensen needs to get himself off, so he calls you.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Language, smut (kinda), fluff

Word Count: 1967

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

“Hey babe… Kept me waiting quite a while”, Jensen’s voice came from the other end of the line.

You didn't even have to see his face to know he wasn't just calling. He was fucking horny, you could hear it in his voice.

You, on the other hand, didn't even have the strength to sit up anymore. It was a Friday night and instead of going out with friends, partying and socializing, you had such a tiring and shitty day at work that you left the last tiny bit of your motivation at the gym. After a hot bath, two missed calls and 7 messages as well as a picture of him lying in bed annoyed, you finally called your, well, kinda boyfriend back.

Unfortunately, since you both lived in different states, it wasn't easy to keep things in sync, although that wasn't even the biggest problem. In fact, Jensen was still married, had a family and a job that didn't exactly offer planning security.

Jensen and his wife have been having some pretty bad marital problems for several years, but to date he hasn't been able to bring himself to file for divorce. The day he found out that his wife had cheated on him, he got so drunk, that he could no longer decide between good and bad. That's when he met you. One thing led to another and the two of you ended up in your hotel room in the middle of Austin, where you had just completed a week of training for your job.

When you both woke up the next morning and started to sober up, you were sure that it was just a simple one-night stand. But fate probably had something else in mind. Within 48 hours, you met four times. In the supermarket, in the park and at the gas station.

A few weeks of texts, calls, and FaceTimes later, Jensen visited you in Montana. He stayed for a few days and told you about his family situation, his career and everything related to it. Despite your initial remorse about having something with a married man, you just couldn't stay away from him. You attracted each other like two magnets.

So 12 months later you were lying in your bed more than tired, which your eyes clearly showed.

“Sorry… crap day at work… I fell asleep in the bathtub”, you yawned, rubbing your eyes vigorously with your free hand before looking back at your phone, at Jensen. "How you doin?", you snuggled into your pillow.

“Ugh, it’s time for you to finally move your nice little ass to Austin. You would never have to work again. That’s all I can offer”, he grumbled slightly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“That's more than generous of you, but as your affair, living in an apartment on the outskirts of a city I barely know and have no friends in? That's somehow not so great. And… you know, that I want to make my own money”.

The two of you discussed things for a while, but after a about 20 minutes, the topic of moving, jobs and affairs faded more and more into the background.

“Where is Danneel?”, you murmured, realizing that he was at home.

"Out with a friend", he murmured before stretching and getting more comfortable. “But-” he started, but was quickly interrupted by you.

“But why you called…”, you finished his sentence and grinned knowingly.

“Why don’t you take off your hoodie?”. His big ass smirk beamed across your phone screen.

“Mhmmm… I don’t know", you started to tease him as you could hear him undoing his belt and zipper before pulling down his jeans.

It wasn't the first time that you helped him jerk off. It was almost a ritual now. When you both realized your feelings for each other, Jensen wanted you to stop seeing other men and at the same time promised you not to have sex with his wife anymore. But since Jensen found it really difficult to have so little sex, you had to resort to this alternative.

“Come on, sweetheart. I need this… badly”, he grunted briefly as he wrapped his hand around his cock and began moving it up and down. “Show me your nice tits”.

“Wanna see them?".

You could see the impatience in his eyes and you surrendered. Even though absolutely nothing could top what Jensen did to you every time you saw each other, you had to admit that watching him, getting himself off, was absolutely hot. Especially since his eyes were on you. Just the sight of you made him come.

You routinely leaned your phone against the bedside lamp so that you were completely in view before kneeling in front of it, low enough so that your ass touched the mattress again, before slowly pulling your hoodie over your head. You heard Jensen growl again when he saw your perfect breasts.

"Fuck… I wish I could touch those”, he muttered, unconsciously licking his lips.

"You do ? How about a little proof of your need?”, you whispered seductively, playing with the waistband of your panties. Jensen wrapped one hand tightly around his already rock hard cock and gave it a hard squeeze before starting to pump up and down again. He knew that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, which is why he winked at you and switched the camera mode so that you had the perfect view of his hard length. Even though it was a shame not being able to see his pretty face anymore, the sight of him, squeezing his cock, made your pussy clench aroung nothing.

“Look what you’re doin to me”, Jensen moaned deeply, tightening his grip a little. “I’m so hard just looking at your fucking tits".

“Well, that´s nothing new”, you grinned as your hands slid to your breasts, kneading them gently.

"Imagine what I would do to you if you were here right now”, he grumbled, watching your actions through the screen. You grinned knowingly, lying down on your back so that your phone's camera films you from the side, before you painfully slowly rid yourself of your last piece of clothing by lifting your hips slightly and elegantly pushing the material off your legs.

“Don’t you wanna touch yourself for me?”, he whispered, his voice heated. “Show me your nice, tight pussy Sweetheart". His voice was dripping with excitement and you knew he wouldn’t last long. Especially since it felt like it had been ages since the last time. "Tell me what you would do to me if I was in your bed right now”, you grin sideways into the camera before bending one knee and sliding a hand up your thigh.

“Fuck, (y/n)", he groaned with the effort. "I would spread your thighs", he started. "Before getting down on that sweet pussy of yours… As always, you wouldn't even last two minutes before you had a first class orgasm and squirted all over my tongue". You turned, so that your pussy was perfect in the picture, but your legs remained closed for now. Nevertheless, Jensen could see part of your wet, shiny folds, which made his cock twitch immediately.

“The way you're lying right now, I'd rub my cock between those juicy, beautiful lips until you're even wetter than you already are… Just before you´d came a second time, I would sink my cock so deep inside you that you would forget to breathe”, he grunted, speeding up his hand movement as you began to rub two fingers over your glistening pussy.

“Fuck, push your finger inside”, he groaned, almost annoyed by your teasing. “Imagine it’s my cock. I want to hear your sweet moans”.

With that, you let your thighs fall apart, giving Jensen a perfect view of your clean-shaven pussy, drenched in your juices, before sliding two fingers inside you. The throaty moan, which was a little too loud, almost made Jensen choke on his own spit. He missed you even more than he ever expected. With his Airpods in his ears, he could hear every little whimper, every breath, and most importantly, every movement of your fingers on your swollen and wet clit.

“Jay… fuck, I miss you”, you let your head fall back with another moan as you continued to play with your clit, two fingers still inside you.

For a brief moment his feelings almost overshadowed his excitement, but when you kept moaning, he had to concentrate on his violently swollen and twitching cock again. “I would fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to do anything but trying to catch your breath.. You couldn't sit for days because I would tear your tight little pussy apart. I would remind you what it's like, to get fucked by a real man".

By now it was hard to tell which of you was panting harder, who was closer and who just wanted to simply feel the other for real again.

“After I fucked you this good and you would be trembling beneath me, I would shove my cock down your dry and tired throat until you could finally taste me. And like a good girl you´d swallow all", he grunted, running his thumb slowly over the wet and swollen head of his cock.

“Jensen… shit”, you came, soaking your fingers and your entire palm. Your pleasured, exhausted moans echoed in Jensen's ears as he closed his eyes for a moment, imagining exactly what he had just said.

“Fuck (y/n)”, he gasped, spilling onto his stomach while struggling to breathe.

You both just laid there for a while. The tension and stress of the last few weeks washed away as you stared at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, Jensen broke the comfortable silence. “Gimme… like… five, Sweetheart”, he mumbled into his phone before getting up and heading to the bathroom to clean himself up. You also used the time to freshen up before snuggling back into your bed. You lay on your side, holding your phone tightly in your hand, waiting to see your boyfriend's pretty face again.

“Hey”, Jensen mumbled as he sat on the porch a short time later with his phone in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth. “Hey, yourself”, you smiled softly.

For a while the two of you just looked at each other. Lost in each other's sparkling eyes.

“I miss you, Jay… a lot”, the corners of your mouth twitched down briefly. Jensen sighed and took a long drag from his cigarette.

"I know sweetheart. I miss you too”. His hand, with the cigarette between his fingers, rubbed his forehead firmly. "I promise you, I'll sort things out". His look showed that he was serious. Jensen knew it was time to clean up, no matter how dirty it would get.

“I love you”, he murmured, flicking his cigarette away and watching you snuggle further into your pillows. “I love you more”, you yawned exhaustedly. “Sleep tight, (y/n)”, he smiled slightly.

Jensen stayed on the phone until you fell asleep before hanging up and returning to the here and now.

Each of your calls and each of your meetings was a little escape into another world. To a better world. You made each hotel room a place where Jensen felt safe. Felt like home. The thing he hasn't been able to do for ages. You were his home. And he didn't just want to visit anymore. He wanted to be home forever.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

#jensen ackles #spn #soldier boy #supernatural #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #smut #fluff

[ham-st4r]

𝓦𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: smut, oral male receiving, protected sex, cum eating, cursing, degradation, multiple orgasms, everything is consensual.

Genre: smut, fuck buddies-ish, toxic relationship.

Summary: none other than the fact that heeseung is a huge dickbag.

Number of words: 2k? Give or take

Tried a little something new this time, just something I wrote at five in the morning, so I apologize if it’s trash, but tell me how you like it (if you do) and if you’d like to see more of this writing style from me it’s kinda trash and sorry for the poor punctuation.

Find your way around!

Pt.2 pt.3

It was nearly two in the morning, and heeseung was feeling undeniably horny. He had thoughts of just rubbing one out and going to sleep, but what fun would that be, especially when he had you who was willing to come over at any time just to please him?

“Come over,” he texted you.

You were lying on your bed, casually scrolling through social media out of boredom.

A notification dropped down indicating you had gotten a message, and of course, it was from none other than heeseung, hitting you up late at night for yet another booty call.

It was embarrassing to admit, but you had been seeing him regularly for a few months now, and no matter what time of day he called you, you’d always go running to him cause you wanted to make him feel good. No matter how shameful it was.

What could you say? You had developed a crush on him after he approached you at that one party and took you upstairs, and that was just the start of this nearly one year-long rendezvous.

You foolishly went along with it cause you thought after a few times he would get bored and throw you away, and soon after that, your crush on him would fade, and this would all just be a thing of the past, but nearly a year down the road, he was still texting you late at night to relieve him and you still had the biggest crush on him.

A part of you thought that he might also develop feelings for you too, so you held out.

“Omw,” you text back immediately.

You went to the bathroom and freshened up a little and once you finished, you went back to your room, hearing another text alert go off on your phone.

“Hurry” he sent back not even a minute later.

He had sent you an image of his bulge straining against his grey boxers with a wet spot on the front, and the sight alone made you wet.

You didn’t worry too much about your appearance cause everything would be ruined by the time he finished with you anyway.

The drive to his place was a short one, and once you arrived, you didn’t even bother knocking cause he always left the door open for you whenever you came over.

“Glad you could make it,” he smirked as he sat on his bed and spread his legs open for you to sit between.

“I’ll always come when you need me,” you said softly as your eyes scanned over his beautiful body from head to toe.

“I know,” he replied cockily and used his index and middle finger to motion you over to his bed.

You dropped your purse and sat on his bed between his legs. “You know what to do” Without further words, you nodded your head and began stroking him over his underwear.

This is how it’s always been. He was never one for foreplay. Instead, he just wanted you to get straight to the point.

He rested his head against his bed frame, looking down at you while you palm his cock. “Mmm, that’s it” he bit his lip.

Once he was fully hard, you pulled his erect cock out from the tiny hole in front of his boxers and spat on it before pumping him up and down.

He hissed at the contact, and you could feel him throbbing in your hand as you licked the entirety of his shaft from the base to his wet tip. “Suck on it,” as soon as the words left his mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thick cock and sunk down til your nose tickled his abdomen. “Such an obedient little bitch” he chuckled while you busied yourself with sucking his dick. “Doing whatever I say,” you moaned around his length as you felt his tip reaching the back of your throat. “You like that? being my good little slut, hmm?” He rested his hand on the back of your head, bobbing it up and down faster. “Answer me,” he demanded as he started bucking his hips, gagging you with his huge cock as he fucked your throat, he was more than satisfied with the way you struggled to speak while you choked on his length.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as strings of spit spilled past your lips. You tried to answer him, but all you could do was moan in response cause he was literally buried in the back of your throat.

He pulled you off his shaft allowing you to answer his question. “Yes, I love being your good little slut” The words barely left your mouth before he forced your head back down and made you take his cock once more.

“I know you do. You’re such a filthy whore coming to see me whenever I call you just so you can feel my cock” he groaned and threw his head back as he started thrusting into your mouth, making your neck bulge with how deep he was forcing you to take him.

You gripped his thighs tightly as he held your head in place with both of his hands fucking your mouth until your throat felt raw. “Take my cock, you fucking whore, just like that” Tears shed from your eyes, but you didn’t care all you cared about was tasting his cum on your tongue cause then you’d know you had succeeded in making him feel good, and that’s all you ever wanted. “I’m gonna cum” his hips faltered, and he let go of your head, letting you do the rest as he felt his high approaching. “Be a good slut and swallow it” he combed his fingers through your hair gently.

“That’s right, keep going,” he whispered as you used your best effort to deep-throat him. “So tight fuck!” His chest was heaving, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you tasted his sweet release. “C-cum I’m gonna cum” he breathed out as his toes curled and his eyes rolled back in his head as he came in your tight throat.

You choked around him, and despite your struggle to breathe, you still managed to swallow all his cum. You moaned around his cock, gulping down the last beads of cum that dribbled out of his tip.

He smirked at your disheveled state and patted your cheek. “Open” he gripped your jaw roughly.

You were still recovering from the aftermath of giving him head. Your throat felt sore, and you could barely catch your breath, but you wanted to be good for him, so you opened wide and showed him you had swallowed everything.

He reached into his nightstand and pulled out a condom. He quickly ripped the package open and slid the rubber down his shaft as he tossed the foil packet somewhere onto the floor. Once he was finished, he laid down flat on his back and made you straddle his waist. He lifted up the sundress you were wearing, and of course, he knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath you never did, and he loved it cause it made your hole easily accessible to him.

He guided your hips back and forth as you sat on his dick. “Look at you so wet just from sucking me off,” he smirked while gliding your wet pussy over his condom-covered dick to get it nice and wet before sticking it inside you.

You avoided eye contact with him cause you were embarrassed about how easily he could make you wet without even touching you.

“Ride me” You immediately granted his wish and lifted yourself up slightly. You grabbed his base and pressed the head of his cock on your soaked entrance.

You slowly sunk down on his length biting your lip from the slight sting as your eyes fluttered shut.

He rested his hands behind his head, letting you do all the work. You whined at the feeling of him filling you up so well, and your legs had already started to tremble from how good he felt inside you.

You rested your hands on his chest, creating a slow rhythm to give yourself time to adjust.

You let out soft moans while you bounced slowly on his cock, but you quickly put your pleasure aside and solely focused on getting him off cause he would always be your top priority.

He laid below you, watching all your pleasured expressions while you tried your best to muffle your sweet little moans.

“Faster,” he instructed you while enjoying the feeling of your slick pussy around his length. He’s been craving it for a while now, and to finally feel you around him after a week was like heaven.

“Heeseung,” you moaned as you collapsed on his chest, trying your best to roll your hips despite how tired your thighs were.

“I know you can do it better than that,” he whispers, and his warm breath on your ear makes you shiver. You did your best to hold yourself up on your palms cause the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him.

You knew you could do better too, but tonight his dick felt a little too good, and whenever you sunk down on his cock fully, you could feel your legs betraying you as you shook with pleasure.

Still, you did your best to please him and sped up your pace bouncing up and down on his cock like your life depended on it.

“Fuck” he grunted each time you came down on his length and clamped your walls tightly around his cock.

You fell on top of him once again and rested your head next to his as you whimpered softly in his ear.

Even though your lower half felt numb, you didn’t let up on your pace, and when you felt him twitching inside you, that only fueled you to go faster so you could bring him to his end.

“Oh shit” He knew he wasn’t going to last any longer. There was just something about you riding him that could have him cumming in just mere seconds.

He quickly pulled out of you and flipped you over on your back. You lay beneath him spreading your legs open and patiently waiting for him to spill his cum all over you.

He took off the condom and jerked himself off until he came all over your swollen pussy lips. “Hmm fuck!” He threw his head back, panting heavily as he made a sticky mess between your trembling legs. “Such a mess,” he laughed breathily as he tapped his dick on your sensitive clit and smeared his cum over your used hole. Once he was finished with the mess he made of you, he collapsed on the bed next to you panting and trying to catch his breath.

He adjusted his boxers, and after a minute or two, he grabbed some wet wipes off his nightstand and tossed them over to you so you could clean yourself off.

You took the wipes and gently cleaned yourself off before pulling your dress back down and getting out of his bed.

You looked over at him, and he was on his phone. You just sighed sadly and grabbed your purse off the ground. Before you left, he called out to you. “Yes?” You said as you turned around, looking at him with a gleam of hope in your eyes.

“Lock the door when you leave,” he said without even looking at you.

“Okay,” you smiled awkwardly and turned the knob, letting yourself out.

It was now three in the morning, and you still had to drive yourself home in the pouring rain.

You don’t know why, but tonight you just felt used.

You felt disgusted with yourself for even holding out hope that a dog like him could ever have feelings for you or have feelings for anyone but himself for that matter.

You wondered just how many times you were going to say yes to him whenever he called you, but after tonight something in the pit of your stomach told you it wouldn’t be much longer. It was obvious he didn’t like you, and it was pointless to continue to waste your time with him when every time you left his house the only emotion you felt was pure sadness

You promised yourself next time he called you over, you wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t run to his aid since you meant absolutely nothing to him.

He could go out and find another girl to fuck 'cause you were done with him.

Besides, it was time to get over this silly crush of yours and move on cause heeseung didn’t deserve you.

You deserved someone that wouldn’t take advantage of your feelings. You deserved someone that would appreciate your time and your body.

You deserved better, and you were going to find better.

FIN

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate each and every one of you who made it to the end. - 🐹

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #smut #heeseung x reader

[saintship]

Hear me out on this one. Stupid as hell idea but I think it'd be funny.

Price has a daughter. She's a civilian and for security reasons she no longer has the same last name.

She starts to date Kyle (gaz) and they hit it off.

I just think the confrontation would be kinda funny if none of the three actually knew.

-ed anon (Eda)

The DRAMAAA

Finally getting some length back in my fics (not like that.)

Warnings because I've forgotten them the last like 10 fics: Meet-cute, fluff, swearing, Gaz having a british tantrum, Soap being a little shit

I’d do it again - Gaz x Price’s daughter!Reader

“You like her?”

Gaz startled slightly at Soap’s question, glaring in response. “What?”

“The lass.”

He looked to where Soap nodded subtly, at the girl he’d been downright staring at moments before. She just had a glow about her; from her clothes to her eyes, and when she laughed, air seemed to catch in his lungs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about..” Gaz drank from his beer, tearing his gaze away.

“Oh, don’t give me that!” Soap gave what was meant to be friendly shove, but ended up causing Gaz to spill beer onto the front of his white sweater.

"Oi! Bellend, you are! You fuckin'-"

"Do you need some?"

Gaz was distracted from tackling his friend to the bar floor when your voice sounded beside him, soft and questioning. You held a handful of napkins under one arm, the other hand holding out a few to him.

"Thank you.."

Gaz took the napkins gently, gazing at you as if he'd been hypnotized.

"No problem." You smiled as your friends called obnoxiously for you to come back, waving quickly before returning to your seat.

"That was horrifying." Soap murmured, staring after you.

"Oh, shut up!" Gaz kicked his ankle, trying to soak the beer off his front. "You're the worst, this was brand new.." He complained.

"What I'm getting from this is that now you have an excuse to talk to her." Soap retorted proudly.

"Oh, right, like, 'Thanks for the napkins, wanna go out? I know I smell like beer, but that's all part of the charm!'" Gaz crushed up the napkins, setting them down next to his bottle.

"You've got it figured out!"

Gaz only groaned, resting his forehead briefly on the polished wood counter.

"At least Price stayed back, aye? He's a lot worse than me." Soap whispered as if Price would hear him from base.

Gaz hummed in agreement, recalling how a young woman had approached their Captain and only left with several embarrassing facts about Gaz rather than anything about the man she'd walked up to. He'd stayed back to catch up on work, encouraging Gaz and Soap to go on. As for Simon, he was where he'd gravitated toward at the beginning of the night; dominating the entire bar at pool one man and woman at a time.

"I'm heading back; do not follow me! Talk to her." Soap eased off his stool, leaving a bit of cash on the counter, and leaving Gaz with a clap to his shoulder.

"Night.." Gaz's focus returned to you, and with a quick breath, he downed the tail end of his drink and stood to approach you. You were at the jukebox by yourself, just scanning the options as an easy 70's track currently carried through the room.

He made sure you could see him coming as not to startle you, and to his surprise, you smiled.

"Hey.." He began gently.

"Hi. Looks like you got most of it out." You gestured to the slightly faded stain.

"Yeah.. thank you, by the way, for the uh.. napkins." Gaz inwardly cringed at himself, shifting his weight compulsively.

"Any time..." You tilted your head in question, and his heart exploded.

"Kyle. I'm Kyle.." He spit out.

You introduced yourself in return, and smiled a bit wider when he shook your hand.

So that was how you and Gaz began; over spilled beer in a 70's dive bar. Over the next month, you learned so much about each other it felt like you'd known him for years. Dinners, late night drives in his car with the top down and the street lamps reflecting off his stupidly perfect teeth. He couldn't help it when you knew exactly how to make him laugh, deeply and truly, especially when it felt like he never would again. You knew you couldn't know much about his job, and you decided it would be okay until something proved it wasn't. He was a breath of fresh autumn air; strong, patient, funny. You were done for.

When he offered to show you the primary SAS base he worked in, you nearly cried, which confused him and flattered him all at once.

"It's nothing special, really, it's-"

"It's a huge part of you." You'd replied firmly. "What's important to you is important to me."

And then Gaz was the one who's eyes were stinging.

It was a lengthy process to gain visitor clearance, but each step of the way only made you more ecstatic. He had asked the 141 to be in the common room for a bit, wanting to surprise them. When he pushed the door open, Soap and Ghost were there. He was slightly confused, but figured his Captain was the busiest of all of them.

Soap was warm and excitable as expected, making sure to embarrass Gaz as deeply as possible by recounting the events of the night you met. Ghost mostly observed, but appreciated your awareness and respect of his space. You answered his questions truthfully, and weren't afraid to quip back.

"Hate to leave so soon, lass, but we've got a meeting." Soap clapped Ghost on the shoulder as they both rose, and you followed suit.

"Good to meet you." Ghost murmured, shaking your hand with a surprising control of strength. You smiled and said your goodbyes, only turning to Gaz after they'd rounded the doorway.

"Was that okay?" You asked, fidgeting with your hands.

"Are you joking? They love you.." Gaz took the risk of kissing you in the open, stroking your cheek as he pulled away. "Not as much as me, though.." He said softly against your lips. You smiled into another kiss, leaning into the hand that stroked your back as he pulled away.

"I want to try to find Price.." He muttered, looking down the hall. At the first mention of his Captain's name, he noticed your eyes sharpen a bit, but focused on a doorway ahead, pulling you along gently.

Gaz stopped at a door and knocked. Your brow furrowed as your mind started to turn over, deflecting any thoughts that your boyfriend's military Captain could also be your-

"Dad." Your voice wavered nervously as you came face to face with exactly who you'd prayed this man not to be.

"Sweetheart?" Price murmured. He looked between you and Gaz a moment, then at your joined hands.

"She's not.." Price pointed at you as he muttered to Gaz.

"She is.. I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

"Didn't know you were shagging my daughter?"

"Dad!" You hissed, at which he huffed, but conceded to settle down.

"Sir, I swear to you, I had no idea." Gaz released your hand to show his palms in surrender, fear flickering in his eyes.

"Fuckin' hell.." Price leaned back on one foot, one hand on his hip while the other stroked his jaw.

Gaz glanced back at you. "Why don't you have the same-"

"Why do you think?" Price snapped.

"It shouldn't matter, he's the best guy I've ever been with." You defend your relationship fiercely.

"Really?" Gaz murmured.

"Sergeant." Price grunted. Gaz returned to his meek position of silence. 'Is that really true, darling?" He asked you softly.

"Yes."

He sighed deeply, his head rocking from side to side for a moment as if to satiate the angel and devil on his shoulders. "Let me ask you something." He pointed to Gaz. "If you had known. Would you still have been with her?"

Gaz squirmed under the intense pressure, but couldn't bring himself to lie.

"Yes, sir. I would."

Price laid a gloved hand on Gaz's shoulder, and the young Sergeant looked near ready to faint. A beat of silence passed, before Price spoke, his words all the confirmation that any of them needed.

"Good lad."

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x female reader

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Triangulum - Chapter 4 - The Morning After Bill

— — — — — — —

Despite the shroud of unease that lingered over the Shack throughout the night, darkness eventually faded into the warm sunlight of morning.

And even for someone like Ford—whose tireless efforts had left him with only a few pages of halfway-useful ideas, with the rest being banished to a crumpled and discarded pile in the fireplace—the morning sunlight that poured in from the window across the room brought with it a comfort.

“Seems kinda pointless to toss all that into a fireplace if you’re not going to actually set it on fire.”

Regardless of the stress that still lingered from the previous evening.

His gaze met the pair of slitted pupils—pupil? Ford hadn’t missed the way Bill’s right eye was less reactive than his left. A visual impairment, perhaps?—on the far side of the room, a toothy, cheshire grin spreading wide beneath them. “I’d bring up the whole ‘expert in burning things around here’ thing again, but I hate using joke more than once a millennia,” Bill said. “It’s like, I’ve had an eternity to perfect my material so doing a bit twice in such a short amount of time just feels so lazy. You get what I mean, Fordsy?” 

Despite his gaze being focused elsewhere, the tip of Ford’s pencil snapped against the paper for the millionth time across the past several hours. And with a bitten-back huff, he tore his attention from Bill again in favor of reaching towards the small end table at his side, hand briefly lingering over the gun he had kept there all night.

It would be easy enough to kill the body that Bill was currently possessing—as gruesome as the idea was, it was simply an undeniable fact. The body looked young, barely older than a teenager if Ford had to harbor an estimate. And that was before taking his…uncanny resemblance into account.

Ford had to physically restrain himself from casting another sidelong look at Bill, a shudder crawling up his spine as he disregarded the gun in favor of the pencil sharpener. He wasn’t sure how much of the remaining household had picked up on it—there was a high chance that Stan and the kids had noticed to some degree—but it was truly eerie how similar Bill’s vessel looked to Dipper.

The structure of his face, the way the hair hung down over his forehead just as Dipper’s did whenever he wasn’t wearing a hat—

“I mean—it was all kind of a blur when I possessed the guy. Didn’t exactly feel like stopping and sussing out all the details, not when the chance to stretch my legs again after spending nine months as a lawn ornament was right there in front of me.”

If Bill’s earlier claims were to be believed—Ford did not believe them in the slightest—then there were a few possibilities. Either some outside force had prevented him from getting a proper look at the vessel or Bill had simply jumped into it first with the intention of asking questions later.

…Admittedly, jumping first and asking questions later was a very Bill-esque way to approach a deal; one didn’t usually need to ask question with the power of omniscience on their side.

But if his earlier claims weren’t to be believed—once again, Ford did not believe them in the slightest—then there were even more possibilities. 

Bill had been lying through his teeth and had purposefully sought out a vessel that looked as uncomfortably-identical to Dipper as possible. And now he was determined to keep such awareness of his appearance as much of a secret as possible, for unknown—but likely sinister—reasons. Perhaps as a precautionary shield of sorts; with the assumption that most would hesitate first before putting a bullet through the eyes of someone that resembled their own.

A counterpoint to that theory was that Bill had asked for a mirror without prompting, but maybe that had been part of the lie? To throw the rest of them off track and push their assumptions towards one direction, all to take focus away from the other?

Of course, none of those theories and guesses brought up an answer to how Bill had managed to come across a new vessel in the first place. Or discussed the matter of the vessel’s original soul, one who had likely been tricked into making a deal with Bill—leaving them bound to the mindscape while he once again puppeteered a body that did not belong to him.

Nor did any of that address the biggest and most pressing issue at hand; how Bill was still alive at all.

With a sigh, Ford forewent the sharpening of his pencil in favor of staring numbly at the mess of discarded paper in the fireplace. Even after a full night of brainstorming, he was still left with both a physical and metaphorical pile of unanswered questions with no clear solution.

“What, are you actually considering that fire idea of mine?” Bill piped up from his spot. “And here I thought I was doomed to keep talking to the air.”

A cackle. “It’s really a shame I can’t hear inanimate objects with this body, the lovely ladies on the shelf over there look like the kinda gals who’ve got a lot of entertaining stories under their belts!”

After a few more seconds of disassociated staring—gaze locked firmly on the mess of paper in a desperate attempt to tune out Bill’s mockery—Ford finally resharpened his pencil to a fine point and returned it to the notebook page. 

Rather than continue writing, however, the tip lingered above the paper while he stared at the most recent sentence in silent consideration. And after another second more, he brought it beneath his words to scribble out a bold underline.

It wasn’t the best idea in the world, and it would all depend on whether or not the needed supplies would’ve kept their potency after all these years. 

But for now, it was an idea.

— — — — — — — 

“I’m awake!”

Mabel’s eyes snapped open as soon as the morning sunlight hit her eyelids, and she bolted upright so quickly that Waddles was sent rolling over onto his back with a surprised oink.

Despite his otherwise-unbothered state, Mabel still crawled to the end of the bed to pull him into a hug. “Sorry, buddy,” she cooed apologetically. “I didn’t realize you were back over here again!”

“He moved to your bed when we switched shifts an hour ago,” Dipper explained from his side of the room. “Guess you weren’t wrong about him being a good guard pig.”

With a tired laugh, she pressed several kisses to the top of Waddles’ head. “I told you! I’m just saying, maybe feeding Bill to him might actually get the job done.”

The laughter petered off as the events of the previous night came flooding back to them, and they exchanged an uncomfortable look. “Did…did you have any nightmares about him?” Dipper asked.

Mabel thought for a moment, the kisses now replaced with scritches to the top of the pig’s head as her affectionate gesture of choice.  “Not that I can remember,” she mused. “I had a dream where I was the size of a doll living in a dollhouse, and the little girl who owned it really wanted me to go for a drive in my convertible when I clearly wanted to go shopping at the mall!”

She pressed a finger to her chin. “But other than that, I think my dreams were pretty normal.”

“Yeah, mine too,” Dipper said. “I mean, I kept seeing triangles wherever I went. But it didn’t feel like anything I don’t normally dream about.”

A shrug as he reached up to brush the hair from his eyes. “Back when Bill visited me in my sleep last year, it felt a lot more—I dunno, vivid? Like it was something that could be happening in real life, you know? But nothing from last night felt that way.”

“I guess that means Grunkle Ford kept a close enough eye on Bill and he didn’t hop into anyone’s dreams, then,” Mabel said. “You think he’s really been up all night?”

“I’d believe it,” Dipper agreed with a nod. “You saw how freaked he was over Bill’s return, I don’t think he’s gonna sleep until Bill’s gone for good. I mean, for good-good this time.”

Mabel stuck her lower lip out in a pout. “Well, I hope he’s gone for good-good soon. I really want to be able to spend some time with Grunkle Ford this summer…”

“Yeah, me too.”

They exchanged another look, before Mabel placed her hands on her hips. “Welp, can’t think of a way to re-kill an evil, triangle jerkface on an empty stomach!” she said, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s go get breakfast!”

A gurgling sound from Dipper’s stomach brought a hand to his shirt, and he hopped down from his bed to join her on the floor. “Ugh, good call. I swear I ate, like, three helpings of lasagna last night, and somehow I’m starving again!”

“Ughughughhhhh, me too,” Mabel bemoaned as the two exited their room and made their way towards the stairs. “This puberty thing is the worst! Why are we always hungry?!”

“I know, right? Everyone went on and on about the acne and the body hair, but they didn’t think to mention how we’d be eating as much as your pet pig?”

Their griping continued as they headed down the stairs together, although Mabel’s decision to skip a step at a time soon brought her to the bottom floor before her brother, leaving her to amble on through the kitchen door by herself.

Her nostrils were immediately greeted by several different scents at once—coffee, pancake syrup and bacon being the most potent, seconded by the smell of lasagna with a charred, reheated undertone that could only be produced by two-and-a-half minutes in a microwave.

From the kitchen table—with a little bit of everything stacked on his plate—Soos greeted her with a wave and a cheerful: “‘Morning, girl dude!”

“Mmm, I smell bacon,” Mabel muttered, trudging sleepily over to the table to join him. “And I’d just like to clarify that even though I have a pet pig, I still want five pieces. At least!”

Melody cast her a smile and tossed more bacon into the pan. “I’ll see what I can do—uh, do you want crispy or crunchy? Because I’ll just warn you right now that I’m way better at making it crunchy.”

She shifted the pieces of bacon around with the end of the spatula. “In fact, the last time I tried making it crispy, I don’t think I fried it long enough. So I’d probably pick crunchy, because there’s less of a chance that I’ll undercook it.”

“Well, I still thought your undercooked bacon was delicious, babe,” Soos piped up loyally.

From the open fridge, a very groggy Wendy raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you need to get your stomach pumped after eating too much?”

“Yes, and the doctor who did it was very polite!”

“Crunchy’s fine,” Mabel said, settling into an empty chair. “And my demand from before still stands.”

“Yeah, I’ll just stick to pancakes,” Dipper chimed in as he shuffled into the kitchen as well. “Morning, by the way.”

“Hey, dude!” Soos once again greeted, turning his attention to both twins as Dipper joined them at the table. “You two sleep okay? Especially with, uh—you know?”

The kitchen fell silent for a moment—save for the bacon sizzling away in the pan and the occasional scrape of the spatula as Melody continued to shift everything around for an even sear—before Dipper replied: “About as well as we could, yeah.”

“No dumb triangle guys in our dreams,” Mabel added. “Or at least, not the actual one. What about you guys?”

Wendy looked up from the fridge. “Eh, slept like I always do on that couch. Dead asleep around three am, while those early-morning infomercials play in a loop on the TV.”

After another moment of searching, she finally decided on the milk carton and swung the door shut behind her. “Pretty sure the only dream I had involved a talking watch that could also wash my dishes. If that means anything.”

While she held the carton up to her mouth for a swig, Melody moved some of the finished bacon to a plate. “When Soos and I slept, we slept fine,” she said. “But every so often, we’d wake up to go check on Dr. Pines.”

“Mornin’.”

The group turned to see Stan near the doorway, his groggy demeanor a clear indication that he had slept very little during the night. “Heard somethin’ about Ford,” he said, and held out his hand. “Gimme a plate of that bacon, then gimme the news.”

“As far as we know, nothing big happened,” Melody explained, and handed him a plate as instructed. “Every time we peeked in on them, Dr. Pines told us everything was fine while Bill was still tied to the chair.”

“Whaddabout the prisoner himself?”

“He’d call us a bunch of mean names whenever we checked in,” Soos added. “Or—well, he mostly just called me Question Mark. But the way he said it made it sound mean.”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “He also tried calling me Shirt at one point when I picked him up off the floor, but he went back on it pretty quick. Said it didn’t feel right.” A shrug. “Other than that, though, he didn’t really do anything.”

“Which probably means Ford didn’t have to do anything.” Stan exhaled with a sigh of relief. “Thanks for the update, Soos.”

“Would someone like to bring him a plate of food?” Melody asked. “I’ve pulled my fair share of all-nighters, I know how hungry they can make someone.”

Mabel’s expression brightened and she quickly hopped back down from the table. “I’ll do it! A hearty breakfast is sure to keep the Evil-Triangle-Killing gears turning in Grunkle Ford’s head!”

While Melody handed her a plate, Stan reached up to scrub the sleep from his eyes. “Well, it ain’t exactly how we expected our first day back to go, but can anyone really say they’re surprised?”

“I can’t,” Dipper said, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Man, Dev’s gonna freak when he hears about what our trip’s been like so far.”

Suddenly Mabel’s eyes shot open wide as she slapped her own hand to the side of her face. “Dev! I completely forgot that he wanted to talk last night!”

“You wanna go call him now?” Dipper asked. “I’ll take Ford his breakfast, if you wa—”

He barely had time to finish his question before the plate was thrust into his hands and Mabel hurried back out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Waddles—who had sleepily ambled after the kids as they’d headed down to breakfast, and had been in the process of finally reaching the bottom step—promptly turned around as she whizzed past and began to head back up after her.

Stan watched until both of them disappeared out of sight, before looking down to Dipper. “Not gonna ask about all a’that, but if you don’t mind havin’ a tag-along to go feed Ford—” He flicked a thumb at himself. “—there’s at least one other Pines here that can get the job done.”

Dipper cast him a small smile. “Yeah, actually, I’d like that.”

Stan shifted the thumb away from himself into a proper thumbs up before the two of them exited the kitchen, making their way towards the hall and the bedroom that waited just beyond the corner.

— — — — — —

After his early-morning attempt to torment Ford, Bill had fallen into yet another thoughtful silence.

Sure, he’d barely gotten more than a sentence or two out of Ford over the course of the night, most of which had just been threats. But that didn’t stop him from stringing together a few things on his own, using the various context clues he’d gathered since he’d first regained consciousness.

First thing of note was the room itself. Several points from the previous evening informed him that it had shifted from a parlor room to a bedroom for Soos’s grandmother; her current location unknown and her overall existence the farthest thing from a priority to Bill. One less person to keep track of—and/or to wave a random weapon in his face—was perfectly fine by him.

But her owning a bedroom here at the Shack implied that she had moved in since the previous summer. Additional clues gathered throughout the night also implied that Soos and the woman who came to check on Ford with him—Bill didn’t care enough to pay attention to her name, but it was blatantly obvious that the two of them were an Item—had moved into the Shack with her, specifically into Ford’s old bedroom next door.

On the same topic of Soos and Who-Cares-About-Her-Name, Bill had heard them pass by the bedroom about thirty minutes prior and head towards the direction of the kitchen. Given how they had yet to return, he wagered a guess that a new day had rolled around and the household was springing to life once again.

None of that could be considered groundbreaking information to Bill, but it was always nice to get a clearer picture of what he was working with in terms of scenery. Sixer had allowed his home to be turned into Domestic City over the past nine months, how uncharacteristically quaint of him.

Speaking of which…

Bill tore his stare from the the shelf of porcelain dolls he had kept his attention on during the quieter parts of the night—hey, his earlier remark had been more than just a light joke; old porcelain dolls were always good for a chat or two when he could actually talk to them—and cast a glance back Ford again. 

He had briefly touched on his appearance the previous evening—mostly in the form of jokes about his silly beard—but there were a few other differences that could be spotted if one had spent several billion years honing the art of observing people.

Ford’s fashion sense was definitely not among those differences—not when he still donned the same red sweater and faded dark pants from the year prior. Even his glasses looked the same, sans the broken glass in the left lens being replaced at some point. Unsurprising in the slightest—ol’ Sixer hadn’t exactly been the kind of guy to keep up with the latest fashion trends.

But the crow’s feet around Ford’s eyes—ones that had been so deeply embedded that it was a miracle they hadn’t left scars—were fainter than before, and the dark circles that had once called the area beneath them home had faded to more of a light gray.

Overall, the aged ruggedness of his features had shifted to something more relaxed, more vital. As if he’d suddenly switched to a full four hours of sleep a night and lowered his daily coffee intake from twelve cups to eight, with an actual breakfast to go with them instead of just his usual nutrition pills.

All of that, and something else Bill couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

A fact that made his scowl lower as his gaze shifted from Ford to the gun on the nightstand. It had been pretty easy to piece together that Ford was scribbling down methods to try and kill him, likely without causing any lethal harm to his current vessel. 

The latter was only mere speculation, once again tying back to his original thoughts upon regaining consciousness. But combined with the events of the previous evening, where the worst harm inflicted on him was nothing more than a punch to the eye—painful and annoying, but clearly nothing that was going to kill him—and an entire night of all bark and no bite when it came to Ford firing a bullet, Bill felt far more secure in his initial assumption.

Ford was trying to find a way to kill him without killing the body itself. A relatively-easy conclusion to reach with the evidence presented to him.

So naturally, the temptation to reveal what he knew to Ford had been locked in a fierce and grueling battle with his common sense for most of the night.

It was a great risk for sure, but the pile in the fireplace granted Bill some reassurance that Ford was nowhere near an actual solution. And if he did have any ideas left in that tattered little notebook of his—no new journal, huh? An unusual choice, but perhaps it was just a temporary method of notetaking. Not like he could exactly write in the other ones after Bill had used them for kindling last year, haha!—they certainly weren’t going to be his A-game.

Needless to say, toeing the line in this instance felt like a safe bet on Bill’s end. Plus it’d double as a chance to redarken those circles and recarve those old crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes. 

Really remind Ford of just who he was dealing with here.

“It’s morning by now, right?” he finally asked aloud. “You must be tired, Fordsy.”

His remark earned him a dirty look from Ford, one he broke within seconds in favor of turning back to his work. An action that earned him a condescending sigh from Bill. “Still no dice on getting you to talk to me, huh? Can’t even take five minutes away from your mysterious scribblings to have a chat?”

With a laugh, he kicked his legs up in the air and clanked them back down against the chair in the most annoying fashion possible. “I’m just kidding, Stanford—I know what you’re trying to do,” he continued. “Obviously you’re trying to figure out a way to get rid of me, without killing the body of the poor sucker I’m possessing.”

He flashed him a toothy grin. “It’s why you just keep sticking that gun in my face instead of just pulling the trigger and busting out a mop to clean up the blood before it stains the floorboards, right?”

This earned him yet another sharp glare, one which masked something else behind Ford’s eyes that Bill once again struggled to decipher. Ugh, being stuck in a human vessel was so annoying; how was he supposed to reach his hand into someone’s mind cavity and really dig his fingers into their deepest fears and insecurities in a body like this?

Well, if he couldn’t poke and prod at the newer stuff, there was always the older spread for Bill to revisit. “No need to be get all huffy, Ford, I’m sure whatever brilliant plan you come up with will work so well,” he continued with another clank of his legs to the chair. “Like that memory gun trick~! I toldja last night how clever it was, right? Too bad you can’t go and Swiss cheese someone else’s mind this time around, huh?”

Another laugh escaped him, one that slowly faded into a dry, deadpan cackle as he folded one leg over the other. “I mean, you could always try it, but just know that it’ll be a lot trickier for me to go along with your little game again. And don’t think I won’t be counting the number of fingers on Goldfish’s hand—”

A light crunch of wood cut him off mid-sentence, and his eyes moved from Ford’s piercing glare to the pencil clutched tightly in his fist. The top half was bent at an unusual angle than before—a likely implication that it had snapped right in two, with Ford’s ironclad grip being the only thing keeping the pieces together at this point.

Well, he was definitely succeeding in getting under the man’s skin, that was clear~!

Before either of them could remark on the matter, however, the creaking of floorboards from further up the hall drew their attention to the door—

—and it was only seconds later before the creaking stopped just outside of it and Dipper’s voice called: “Grunkle Ford! Breakfast time!” from the other side.

Bill felt his eyes roll so far back into his head, he swore he got a glimpse at the useless lump of gray matter—or at least, it would normally be useless if he wasn’t the one taking it for a joyride—that humans called a brain. Great, one of the meddlesome little rugrats was acting as the Sunshine Brigade, and not even the fun one with the pig.

Well, at least he could probably get a kick out of scaring the little weenie. And at least said weenie’s voice succeeded in getting Ford to react with his own call of “Come on in.” as he set the broken pencil down on the nightstand.

The door was slowly pushed open with a hesitant hand to reveal the aforementioned Dipper and—

“Hope you’re feeling non-kosher today,” Stan piped up behind him. “If not, I’m snagging that bacon off your plate.”

Seriously? Didn’t Punchy Mc-No-Memory have anything better to do? What were there no tourists for him to currently scam or candy to snatch outta the grubby little hands of an underdeveloped human toddler?

Whatever, at least the two of them combined would bring some excitement into the room. “Oh, so both Pine Tree and Goldfish wanted to join the party this morning~?” he greeted with a bright grin. “Great, the more the merrier~!”

Dipper pushed the door open further and—while likely fighting the urge to wince at the sight of him—crossed the room to where Ford was seated. “Good morning! Melody prepped you a plate of food so you could eat while you worked.”

Despite his exhausted demeanor, Ford’s expression brightened at the sight of Dipper approaching him. “Thank you, Dipper,” he said, taking the offered plate with a warm smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I could with—well—”

He attempted—attempted and failed miserably—to give a subtle tilt of the head in Bill’s direction, to which Bill responded with a cackle. “You know, Pine Tree, it’s very rude to gossip about someone when they’re in the room!“ he taunted. “Don’t beat around the bush, go ahead and tell him how restless your sleep was now that I’m back~!”

He tilted his own head with a playful smile. “Also please feel free to go into any nightmares you might’ve had in intricate detail! I looooove flipping through the night’s haul every morning! It’s like reading the newspaper at breakfast, but with more teeth falling out of someone’s head!”

While Dipper finally lost against the urge to wince in response, Stan flicked a thumb in Bill’s direction. “So, he do anything outside of be an annoying little nuisance all night?”

“Outside of that, no,” Ford answered, setting his pencil down. “But after a while, it grew easier to ignore him.”

“Okay, well, that’s even ruder than gossiping about someone while they’re in the same room,” Bill said with a scoff. “Honestly, somebody should give this family a few pointers on guest hospitality.”

Stan cast him a sidelong look of disgust. “Little jerk really likes hearing himself talk, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Ford said wearily. “But hopefully he won’t be an issue for us much longer.”

“Did you find a way to deal with him?” Dipper asked.

Ford opened his mouth to reply, looked to Bill—

—then stood up in his chair. “Let’s discuss this out in the hallway.”

“Wow, again with the hallway meetings, huh?” Bill asked aloud. “While I’d normally be flattered at how often you chumps feel the need to play hush-hush with your plans, gossiping about someone where they can’t hear you is even ruder than doing it in the same room as them~!”

Despite his snark, Bill was elated by the thought of being left alone again. A few minutes to himself meant a chance to search for something sharp enough to cut his binds.

Sure, getting Ford to do it for him was still the preferable option. But if a chance to take care of the issue himself was presented to him, who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth—

“Whaddabout him?”

Stan’s voice and pointed finger in his direction pulled Bill from his thoughts. “Think it’s safe to leave him all by himself?” 

Bill’s brow furrowed at the question. Guess being a spoilsport ran in the family, huh?

Oh, well. Nothing he couldn’t twist in his favor. “What do you mean, Goldfish?” he asked with a kick of his feet. “I’m still just as tied up as I was last night, aren’t I? What could I possibly do while you’re all busy discussing Sixer’s oh-so-clever plan to get rid of me~?”

An even bigger risk than before. To reveal all of that to Ford was one thing, but to reveal it to other people?

Eh, Pine Tree hadn’t even picked up on his little laptop stunt last year and Goldfish was more brawn than brain—Bill could afford to play loose and fast here.

Dipper shot Bill an uneasy glare before turning his attention up to Stan. “I hate to agree with him, but he does have a point: what can he really do while he’s all tied up like that?”

Oh, Pine Tree, you wonderful, reliable idiot. “Yeah, yeah, listen to the kid!” Bill agreed. “Unless you feel like leaving him to babysit me~?”

Okay, well, that one wasn’t so much of a risk as it was sticking his hand in a bucket of defanged piranha—the end result was so pathetically safe and predictable that it was almost not worth the effort. And sure enough, Dipper’s immediate wincing at the suggestion proved that he had bluffed successfully. “Guess that’s a no, huh?” he asked with a flash of his teeth. “What’s wrong, Pine Tree? Don’t feel like spending some quality time with me? I know I could use the company, ol’ Fordsy over there was a total drag the entire night.”

He pointed a leg in the direction of the porcelain doll collection. “And like I was telling him earlier; in a pathetic, unevolved body like this, I couldn’t even settle for a conversation with the girls on the shelf over there! Such a shame, Lupita on the middle one looks like she has quite the tongue for gossip—”

“Alright, that’s it.”

Before anyone—Bill included—could react, Stan stormed over to the chair and lightly pushed it backwards onto the floor. And before Bill could let out more than an agitated “Hey—HEY!”, Stan nudged the chair forward with his foot until the top rail was tucked beneath the underside of Abuelita’s bed. 

Leaving Bill unable to rotate the chair in any direction without the top clanging against the bed. And despite his best attempts to flail around helplessly, face reddening with anger by the second, the chair—and by extension, his own body—remained firmly in place on the ground.

Stan turned back to Ford with a grin. “So hallway, then?”

“Hallway.”

After a collective nod, the three of them shuffled out of the room. Leaving Bill to once again slump against his restraints with a huff and cast another glare in the direction of the porcelain shelf. “Not a single word outta you, Lupita!”

— — — — —

Once the door was pulled firmly shut behind them, Dipper asked: “Has he really been like that all night?”

“Sadly he picked up on the fact that I would’ve preferred not to use the gun unless absolutely necessary,” Ford explained, with a scrub at his weary eyes. “So he was probably taking advantage of that for as long as he could.”

“Yeesh,” Stan said with a wince. “So, uh—hate to go the gruesome route first, but why can’t we just take the little gremlin and—” 

He held a pair of fingers to his temple and made a shooting motion with his hand. “I know it ain’t the best idea, what with the whole…you know—”

They turned towards Dipper in unison, who reached for his own arm with a grimace. “Oh…you guys saw it too, huh?”

“Kinda hard not to see it,” Stan pointed out, and glanced over at Ford again. “But uh—I’m guessing that’s the main reason we’re not trying it?”

“There are plenty of reasons why I’m abstaining from killing Bill in his current form,” Ford explained, before casting a sympathetic look to Dipper. “Although the resemblance to you is certainly one of the bigger reasons as to why I’m hesitant to try.”

Dipper gave him a small, grateful smile in return. “I mean, if it helps, I accidentally killed a ton of my own clones last year,” he said. “Plus I did have some pretty dark thoughts about what I wanted to do to Dippy Fresh in Mabel’s dream world.”

He shrugged nervously. “So, you know, if you really have to kill him while he looks like me—”

His words were cut off with a weak laugh as Ford pressed a comforting hand to the top of his head. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind for sure,” he said, before both hand and smile fell again. “But there are other reasons as to why I’m hesitant. One of the main ones being that we have no way of knowing if killing the body would kill Bill himself.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Stan asked.

“Bill’s a creature of the mind,” Ford explained, pressing a finger to his temple. “One who lacks a physical form, and needs to resort to possessing those of us in the real world if he wishes to accomplish anything in this dimension.”

He gestured to himself, then to Dipper. “It’s why he had to use both Dipper and myself as his vessels on separate occasions.”

Stan’s gaze shifted awkwardly between them. “Oh, uh—right.”

“He mentioned something like that last year,” Dipper added. “About how if you don’t have a vessel, you’re basically a ghost in the mindscape.”

“Precisely,” Ford continued. “Based on his current appearance, he’s likely made some sort of deal with an unsuspecting person and claimed a new vessel as his own. But if a form of harm—or worse, death befell that vessel, it would leave the poor soul of whoever he’s possessing without a body, and him free to bounce around the mindscape again.”

He crossed his arms. “Which would just leave him completely unbound to our dimension and leave us back at square one.”

“So…if we can’t kill him and we can’t remove him from his vessel, then what can we do?” Dipper asked.

“Ah, well, I never said we couldn’t remove him from the vessel,” Ford pointed out. “I simply said that using the most drastic method available would be a poor decision, with no guarantee that it would actually kill Bill himself.”

A pause. “Plus there’s the natural reluctance that most people tend to face when presented with the idea of putting a bullet into a teenager’s head. Obviously.”

“I mean, if the kid’s possessed by someone who tried to destroy the universe, I don’t think anyone in their right mind’s gonna get huffy at you for pullin’ the trigger,” Stan pointed out. “But if we’re not doing that, then—what are we doing?”

“My current best idea is to take Bill down to my lab and try an artificial means of exhausting the body,” Ford explained. “In the hopes of exorcizing Bill from it in a safe and controlled environment, and to possibly bind him to a vessel where he’ll be unable to move around freely.”

He pressed a thoughtful hand to his chin. “Perhaps if we’re lucky, it will also grant the body’s original host a chance to retake control. And if they do, maybe they’ll be able to answer any further questions we might have regarding the situation. Answers we're surely not going to get from Bill himself."

He raised his hands in a shrug. “And even if none of that works, it might still give us a clearer picture as to what kind of possession we’re dealing with, and hopefully steer us towards a method that will actually kill Bill for good.”

Stan blinked. “...Now say it in layman’s terms for the kid, in case he didn’t catch that—”

“He’s going to try and make Bill so tired that he leaves the body, but can’t escape from the lab,” Dipper explained. “And move him to a vessel where he won’t cause more trouble and also doesn’t look like me, while maybe giving the original body back to whoever owned it.”

“Oh!” Stan said, and began to crack his fists. “Well, I mean—if you need a way to tire the little guy out, there’s nothin’ better than a good, old-fashioned round of fisticuffs—”

“No, Stanley,” Ford interrupted. “I appreciate both of you bringing me breakfast, but I’ll be handling this on my own.”

“Wh—” Stan’s hands fell to his side. “Seriously? You’re really not gonna let anyone help you with this?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta side with Grunkle Stan on this one,” Dipper added. “You said yourself that you’ve been up all night, having to listen to Bill do everything he can to get under your skin. Are you sure you don’t want any help dealing with him now that the rest of us are awake?”

A shrug. ”Or, you know, someone to at least watch him while you take a nap?”

“Atta boy, Dip,” Stan praised, before pointing a finger at his brother. “Like I said last night, I can watch over Bill for you while you get some sleep. If you don’t want me to kill him, I won’t—I’ll just keep an eye on him—”

“I believe I gave my answer last night,” Ford said firmly, turning back to the door. “I’ve got a few plans in mind, and if it turns out that I’m unable to accomplish this goal on my own, only then will I ask for help.”

“...Will you?”

Ford’s hand froze just above the doorknob, and he turned back to Stanley with a raised eyebrow. “Come again?”

“Will you ask for help?” Stan repeated with more boldness as he leaned closer. “Because you’ve got a guy who’s practically throwin’ himself at you to help, and you keep saying you can handle this by yourself.”

“I said I will ask for help if I’m unable to handle it by myself, Stanley,” Ford replied, narrowing his eyes. “And so far, I’ve been able to handle it just fine—”

“Uh, maybe I should just—”

Dipper shifted uncomfortably in place, before taking a step backwards. A motion that caused both men to turn to him with looks of concern. “It’s alright, Dipper, you can go,” Ford reassured him with a smile. “And thank you for bringing me breakfast, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, go on and get, kiddo,” Stan added with a wave. “Actually, why don’t you go check on your sister, or somethin’? Don’t know if she got any food in her.”

“Hmm, come to think of it, I don’t think she did,” Dipper mused thoughtfully. “I should probably go fix that, huh?”

He turned and hurried back down the hall, the older men waiting until he disappeared from sight to face each other again. “Come on, Ford,” Stan asked, flicking a thumb towards the door. “You’ve been at this all night, and the only idea you’ve got isn’t even one that’s gonna kill him.”

“I realize it’s not the best idea,” Ford said. “But if it works, we can always trap Bill in a safer environment and—”

“And what, stay up for another week as you keep looking for a way to actually kill him?” Stan interrupted. “And what happens if you don’t find one? Are you just gonna stay up forever and let this Bill stuff takes over your life again?”

“If I have to, then yes,” Ford said firmly, and turned to face the door again. “What other choice do I have, let Bill wander around freely and attempt to destroy the universe again?”

“You have the choice to let someone else babysit the little jerk while you rest for five minutes!”

Much like the evening prior, Ford felt a hand clasp his shoulder tightly. “Ford, just—don’t you remember what I said at the bus stop yesterday?” Stan asked, pleaded. “About not having to deal with anything by ourselves ever again? What, did you think I was lying when I said that?”

Ford froze at that question, hand less than an inch from the doorknob.

He wasn’t lying. Of course he wasn’t lying.

But that was the issue in itself.

His shoulders tensed beneath Stan’s hand as his thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous day. Those looks Stanley had given him after their arrival, the way he’d dodged his concerns back at the mermaid tank.

Ford had initially written them off as his own paranoia, as something to not concern himself over. But Stan had said as much himself yesterday; he would toss himself in front of another blast of the Memory Gun to protect his family again. So willing to let himself burn if it meant keeping the others warm.

Was it truly his paranoia talking when it came to those thoughts? Or—

“I don’t know, Stanley. Were you?”

The question escaped Ford’s mouth before he could stop himself, leaving Stan to stare at him with a perplexed look. “What? Whaddaya talkin’ about?”

Ford hesitated to reply at first, but eventually continued with: “You said we could talk to each other about anything. But ever since we’ve arrived at the Shack, you keep looking at me like you’ve got something you need to say but refuse to say it.”

“Again, I ask: whaddaya talkin’ about?”

“The way you looked at me last night at dinner,” Ford explained. “And…and back at the mermaid tank when we were talking with the others. You kept looking at me like you wanted to tell me something, but the one time I actually asked you if anything’s wrong, you just brushed it off with a joke!”

He folded his arms. “How am I supposed to believe you when you say we don’t have to deal with hardships by ourselves anymore when you can’t even grant me the same courtesy in return?”

Stan blinked at him a few times, before his eyes narrowed. “Are you ki—you cannot be serious, Stanford! Are you really not letting me help you deal with Bill because—because you think I’m hiding something from you?!”

The implications of what Stan had said hit them both like a truck, any aggravation that had been building between them instantly replaced with identical looks of shock. Shock that lingered for a few, agonizingly long seconds before—

“You know what, I need to get back to work,” Ford said, and spun to face the bedroom door again.

“Ford, I—”

It was as far as he got before the door slammed shut in his face.

Stan lingered where he stood, too stunned to properly move or react. And much like the previous evening, the idea of barging into the room after Ford once again flashed to the front of his mind. 

Barging in, making a scene—heck, he even eyed the dent on the wall where Ford had swung a fist the night before, his own hand balling into a fist as the temptation to follow suit swelled inside him.

But despite the red flooding his vision, he still had enough of a grasp on his common sense to know that making a whole scene—especially in front of Bill—would only make things more difficult for Ford. It would only push him further away, only make him close himself off even more than he already was, only make him bury himself further in his work and sleepless isolation—

“Are you really not letting me help deal with Bill because—because you think I’m hiding something from you?!”

If he hadn’t done that already, after implying that Ford—the man who had spent several decades being lied to and manipulated by the very same demon in the next room—was just being paranoid because he didn’t want Stan's help. 

“Well, we have you to thank for the idea, Dr. Pines.”

That Ford’s accusations about him were just based on nothing.

“None of this would’ve happened without you, Grunkle Ford!”

That Ford had been anything but completely right about him.

Great. Great. 

Just another way he’d royally screwed things up.

It took every ounce of restraint that Stan could possibly muster to once again force his balled fist to his side, before he turned and stormed back down the hallway.

And once he was sure that Ford wouldn’t be able to hear him, he finally swung it hard at the wall near the stairs, the wood splintering beneath his knuckles with a loud cracking sound.

A sound that unfortunately attracted the attention of the remaining kitchen-goers, Soos poking his head out less than a second later. “Mr. Pines? Is everything okay?” he asked. “Are you still hungry? Melody made more bacon—”

Stan barely managed a grunt and a “Goin’ out to the boat!” in response before he continued onwards out the front door—he left it ajar; Soos would close it behind him and Stan knew for a fact that if he tried to close it himself, the slam would be loud enough to wake up the entire town—down the porch steps and towards the direction of the boat at the edge of the yard.

— — — — — — — —

“You know, most people would be mad about being left on the floor while you went out in the hallway to gossip with your blowhard brother and a kid who probably has Baby’s First Conspiracies memorized cover to cover—”

Clank, clank.

“—but lucky for you, Fordsy, I’m in just as much of a forgiving mood as I was yesterday—”

Clank, clank.

“Honestly, I kinda like laying down on the floor like this! In fact, I could stay here forever!”

While Bill continued to rock his body back and forth—causing the top of the chair to clank loudly against the underside of the bed—Ford remained with his back to the door, too submerged in his own troubling thoughts to pay him any mind.

“Are you really not letting me help deal with Bill because—because you think I’m hiding something from you?!”

The question was like a chilling rush of ice water to his veins. Stanley really thought that he wasn’t letting him help because he didn’t trust him? After all they’d experienced together, after everything they’d gone through—

After everything that Stanley had sacrificed to save the universe, Ford had the gall to imply right to the man’s face that he didn’t trust him? To imply that Stan was being secretive about something, based on evidence as miniscule as responding strangely to a question about his mood? A response that Ford himself had originally brushed off as his own paranoia getting the better of him?

And what had changed about that original mindset to cause such doubt in Ford’s mind? Stanley’s constant insistence to help deal with Bill? A natural response to have when someone he cared about was in need?

Yeah, definitely worthy of the cruel accusations Ford had tossed at him.

He remained rigid against the door, and it was only once he heard the telltale sound of floorboards creaking their way up the hallway on the other side that he finally moved back to the chair and his waiting breakfast.

“Not even a look at me, huh?” Bill piped up from the floor. “Wow, did your chat really go that badly?”

He kicked his legs straight up into the air with a thoughtful look. “Come to think of it, that’s what—twice now that you’ve gone out into the hallway with him and come back looking worse than you normally do? And here I thought I was joking when I said the two of you were fighting.”

Devilish laughter followed his remark, and he gave the top of the chair another clank against the bed. “But even after nine months and a homemade bout of amnesia, you Pines twins really can’t get along, can you?”

Ford stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth, fighting desperately to keep his attention fixed on his plate of food. A repeat of his unsaid sentiments from the previous evening; that damned demon could chatter on all he wanted.

He could say whatever he wanted, tease him however he wanted—

He finally turned back to his list of potential ideas, gaze landing on the one he had underlined earlier in the morning.

He swapped his plate for the notes and returned to where Bill was still situated. After a few more clanks of his legs against the chair, Bill flashed him a wide grin. “Aw, have you decided to finally pick me up—oh, actually, you have.”

Ford grabbed the end of the chair leg and pulled it out from beneath the bed, Bill’s grin only widened further as he set the entire thing back up in a standing position. “Well, well, well, you’re finally listening to me again,” he said smugly. “It’s about time you—hey, what are you doing?”

While Bill had prattled on, Ford had moved to the rope by the wall—the one that had been abandoned for most of the night. Originally he’d planned on using it to tie Bill’s legs to the chair, but circumstances had prevented him from getting around to actually accomplishing that throughout the course of the evening.

If anything, that had worked out in Ford’s favor. If he was truly going to try his attempt at exorcizing Bill, this would save him a trip to the storage room.

After slinging the rope over his shoulder, he returned to the chair and placed his hand on the back, before scooping it up from the floor in one fluid motion. Further ignoring Bill’s follow up remark of: “Welp, guess we’re leaving~! Too bad, I was starting to grow fond of those porcelain dolls! They’re great nightmare fuel!”, he kept his grip on the chair and lead both of them out into the hallway.

Leaving the barely touched plate and scrapped pile of ideas abandoned in the room.

— — — — — —

Dipper trudged up the stairs and towards the room at the back of the attic, the sound of Mabel’s voice growing louder and clearer as he approached the bedroom door; “Yeah, sorry, things got a little crazy last night,” she was saying. “We literally got into town and the bus had to stop because some gnomes and Lilliputtians were fighting in the middle of the road!”

“Did you snap any pics?” Another voice piped up.

A long, sad sigh. “No, we didn’t think to at the time. Sorry, I know you would’ve loved it.”

Dipper pushed the door to the bedroom open to the sight of Mabel seated near her bed, phone in hand as Dev continued to speak through it: “Eh, no worries, you guys have all summer,” they said. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get pics of all the other weird stuff that town has to offer.”

“Hey, Dev!” Dipper called as he approached the bed. “Just letting you know that I’m now in the room, so no making kissy faces at each other!”

“Psh, who says?” Mabel asked. “We can make kissy faces at each other all we want, whenever we want!”

“Hey, Dip!” Dev called in return. “Mabel was just telling me about your busy first day, and why she forgot to call.”

“So I heard. Hey, scoot over.”

Mabel obliged, and he planted himself down on the floor next to her. “Did she tell you about how we got carried up to the shack by a Manotaur?”

“Ugh, you guys have all the luck!” Dev whined. “I wish I could’ve convinced Aaron to let me join you guys up there for the summer!”

“Ehh, I don’t know about that one, Dev,” Dipper said. “It wasn’t all gnomes and Manotaurs once we got back to town. See, after we got to the Shack—”

“Our Grunkle Ford had to deal with a whollleeee lot of old business stuff!” Mabel interrupted quickly. “Lots of nerd stuff—not the cool nerd stuff that you like, boring nerd stuff—that might keep him busy all summer, and we might not get to spend as much time with him as we thought we would.”

“Aww, boo,” Dev said supportively. “You were so excited about getting to spend the summer with him! You even made that sweater and everything!”

“Right?! But hopefully he gets it all dealt with in time for us to do lots of fun Grunkle-and-great-niece-slash-nephew activities!”

She paused for a moment. “Ugh, that’s a mouthful. What’s a better way to say great-niece-and-nephew?”

“...Gniece and Gnephew?” Dev suggested. “Like gnome but the g isn’t silent?”

Mabel’s eyes went wide and she clutched the phone to her cheek. “Ugh, you’re the SMARTEST smarty-pants in the world~!” she cooed, kicking her feet. “I’m soooo gonna use that now!”

“Anyway, sorry for not checking in last night, Dev,” Dipper chimed in. “Just assume that if we go a while without calling you, we’re probably being held captive by like…mutant tree people or something.”

“Wait, you guys have mutant tree people up there?!” Dev asked excitedly. “Maaaaan—next year I’ve gotta convince Aaron to let me go up there with you guys—”

There was a muffled shout in the background, before Dev said: “Oh, he’s calling me down to breakfast, I’ve gotta go.”

“No problem, we’re supposed to be eating breakfast now, too,” Dipper added. 

“Bye, Dev~!” Mabel said sweetly. “We’ll talk to you later~!”

“Bye, Dev! What Mabel said.”

“I love you!”

“—also that, but platonically!”

“Later, guys!” Dev called. “Hope you get a chance to spend time with your Great-Uncle Ford, and don’t forget to snag me an autograph if you can!”

“Dev—” Dipper said with a laugh. “I’m telling you, he’s just a regular guy.”

“Remind me again: how long did you spend searching for him last year?”

“...Point taken. Talk to you later.”

There was a click and the phone went silent, before Mabel slapped it shut. “Aww, I wish we could’ve convinced Aaron to let Dev come with us on our trip up here!” she lamented with a sigh. “He’s usually so cool, I don’t know why he said no!”

“Maybe because you told him about how one of our great-uncles stole the other’s identity for thirty years,” Dipper reminded her. “While the other spent that time traveling around the Multiverse. I mean, what older brother would want their younger sibling to spend the entire summer with two old men like that?”

“Uh, the coolest older brother?” Mabel replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Oh well. Maybe we can convince Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford to come down to Piedmont for Hanukkah this year. They can meet him then, and then he’ll be willing to let Dev spend next summer here with us~! Perfect plan!”

“Yeah, perfect plan,” Dipper said. “As long as they’ve gotten rid of Bill by then.”

An uneasy silence fell over the room, the twins’ gazes shifting away from each other as Mabel suddenly found herself very interested in the pattern on the floorboards while  Dipper reached up to fiddle with his hat. “So you didn’t tell Dev about Bill’s return, I’m guessing?”

“Nuh-uh,” Mabel confirmed in a low voice.

“...You know, what I said yesterday about talking to Mayor Tyler still applies,” Dipper continued. “I mean, he’s dating Wendy’s dad now and he seemed really excited to see us when we got back to town. Maybe if we ask—”

“Race you downstairs to finish that breakfast we didn’t eat!”

Before Dipper could continue, Mabel had leapt to her feet and was bolting for the door. Dipper blinked in surprise, before leaping to his feet as well and hurrying after her with a shout of: “Mabel, wait, you didn’t let me finish—”

Mabel simply laughed in response as the two of them raced their way back down to the first floor—

“Well, well, well, looks like Shooting Star’s awake too~!”

—only for that laughter to get caught in her throat as she reached the bottom step, eyes wide at the sight that waited before her.

Ford was just coming up from the hallway, Bill’s chair clutched tightly in his hand as he walked. And upon hearing Bill’s greeting to Mabel, Ford gave the chair a warning shake.

To Mabel, however, he gave a warm, tired smile. “Good morning, Mabel.”

“Uh, good morning, Grunkle Ford…”

Mabel couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on the restrained figure in the chair, one who cast her a wide smile full of teeth. “Sleep well~?” he asked. “Heard your brother had an uneasy night—”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” Dipper piped up, as he came down the stairs behind Mabel. “Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“Aw, but putting words in other people’s mouths is so fun,” Bill insisted. “All you gotta do is take one word, pluck it outta someone’s head, and then just slap another word in its place! You can make even the most serious and no-nonsense chumps say all kinds of silly words when you do!”

He jerked his head towards Ford. “Like ol’ Fordsy here—go ahead and try to get him to say the word ‘burden’!” he said with a bat of his eyelashes. “Come on, you know you wanna~!”

As Dipper and Mabel both winced in discomfort, Soos peered his head out from the kitchen. “Good morning!” he greeted cheerfully, before his gaze fell to Bill. “Uh, that doesn’t apply to you, triangle dude.”

“So grateful you spelled that out for me, Question Mark,” Bill said with bright sarcasm. “Otherwise I never would’ve caught it~!”

“Oh, uh—you’re welcome, then? I guess?”

“Nobody pay him any mind,” Ford instructed. “We’re simply passing through on our way down to the basement.”

“Yeah, nobody pay me any mind,” Bill chimed. “Unless they’re really valuable, of course!”

He laughed at his own joke with a kick of his feet. “I’m just kidding: I’ll take any mind as a form of payment, even the dumb ones!” he said, with a wink in Soos’ direction. “I’m talkin’ to you, Big Guy, I know for a fact you’re not using yours!”

“Ugh, is there any way to get him to stop talking?” Wendy piped up from behind Soos, a moment before she propped herself against the kitchen doorframe. “Can’t Mr. Pines pop him in the other eye or something?”

“He coooould,” Bill taunted. “If him and Sixer weren’t fiiiiighting~!”

He laughed as Ford gave the chair another shake, while Mabel stared in confusion. “You and Grunkle Stan are fighting?”

“As I said, Mabel, pay him no mind,” Ford instructed. “Nothing that comes out of his mouth is to be trusted in any sense.”

“Well, uh,” Dipper started awkwardly. “Do you know where Grunkle Stan went after you guys talked? I don’t think he ate much of his breakfast before we went to bring you yours, so—”

“I know where he went,” Wendy began, before her eyes fell to Bill. “He—he came up the hallway, then headed outside to the boat. Didn’t say why, though.”

“I did ask if he wanted any more food, though,” Soos added. “But he just kinda grunted and didn’t really give me an answer. Which is a pretty normal Mr. Pines reply, but still—breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so I hope he’s alright!”

“Sounds to me like he’s going outside to sulk because somebody doesn’t want him around,” Bill said, once again tilting his head in Ford’s direction. “But I guess they didn’t hear that from me, did they?”

Ford glowered at him for a brief moment, before turning towards the living room doorway. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be down in the basement dealing with our little…problem.”

“Oh, wait one second, Dr. Pines!” Melody called from the kitchen, seconds before leaning into view from the doorway. “Before you go, I just wanted to ask about the party tonight. And, uh—whether or not we should still have it after—”

She gestured towards Bill with the spatula, upon which he flashed her a smile. “Aww, you chumps were going to have a party?” he asked. “Well, don’t stop on my account! I dunno if anyone’s told you, Newbie, but I’m quite the party fanatic myself~! Practically invented the word!”

Melody raised an eyebrow. “Newbie?”

“He does nicknames,” Wendy explained with a wave of her hand. “It’s a thing, don’t worry about it.”

“Ignoring him, please feel free to have the party as initially planned,” Ford instructed Melody. “I assume you’ve already passed out invitations, and canceling at the last minute would arouse more suspicion than just hosting the party anyway.”

“Okay, well, if you’re sure,” Soos said, casting him a small grin. “You—uh, think you’ll be done in time to join us? It’s a party for you too, you know?”

Ford looked to him, then silently to Bill—who only widened his cheeky little grin further as he waited for an answer—

—before passing through living room doorway in silence, letting the chair thump down the small step and to the carpet as he dragged it behind him. With a vocal complaint from Bill in the form of: “Hey, hey! You could at least carry me all the way, you jerk!”, Ford continued onwards towards the door to the gift shop on the other side of the room.

The rest of the group watched them go, and looked to each other once the two of them disappeared from sight past the swinging door. “So, uh—guess we should start prepping the shack for the party then, huh?” Soos asked the rest of them.

“Probably,” Melody agreed. “We didn’t get around to cleaning up the exhibits yesterday, so there’s a lot to do if we want to be ready by tonight.”

“Ughh, does that mean I have to work on another one of my days off?” Wendy started with a groan—

—before casting a look to the twins still on the stairs, gazes still focused on the vacant living room doorway. “—ah, well, I guess it’s a good chance to show off our new way of cleaning things up around here.”

She flashed them a grin. “I could use a couple of assistants to help me out, though. Whaddaya say, dorks?”

Dipper pulled his gaze away from the door frame to look at her. “You want our help?”

“No, I’m talking to the other pair of twins standing in the exact same spot as you two,” Wendy said with a laugh. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Or as fun as cleaning can get—”

She shrugged. “I know that’s not very convincing, but seriously, I could really use someone to talk to while I work. Make the boring stuff less boring, y’know?”

This got a smile out of Dipper, and he leaned over to nudge his sister. “Come on, let’s leave Ford to do what he’s gotta do and go distract ourselves for a bit,” he urged. “Besides, I’m sure Melody will let you toss up as many streamers as you want if you ask.”

“I will!” Melody confirmed from the doorway.

Mabel didn’t take her eyes off the living room doorway at first, but the draw of streamers finally moved her attention back to the rest of the group. “As many as I want?”

“We have at least a hundred rolls at the ready,” Soos said with a thumbs up. “When we told the lady at Party Metropolis what—and who—they were for, she sold us her entire stock.”

Mabel’s mouth curled into a wide smile. “We~ell, I guess that’s a start—”

“Atta girl,” Wendy said with a wink, before making her way to the front door. “Come on, I can’t wait to show you guys how we clean everything up now—”

While Dipper rushed after her with just as much gusto, Mabel trailed slowly behind them, casting a hesitant look in the direction of the living room before the door swung shut behind her.

The shack was quiet now, leaving only Soos and Melody left in the kitchen doorway. After a moment, Melody turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, did either of them eat any breakfast?”

“Don’t think so,” Soos replied. “Don’t think Mr. Pines ate much either. And I know we had Dipper bring Dr. Pines some food, but that was only a few minutes ago and he didn’t have it when he headed for the basement.”

He waved his hands. “So unless he picked up some kinda superpowers in the Multiverse that let him—I dunno, inhale all his food in one big gulp or something, it’s a tossup if he actually ate anything,” he said, before pressing one hand to his chin. “Either way, I should probably go get that plate from Abuelita’s room.”

With a smile, Melody ducked back into the kitchen. “You take care of that while I’ll go ahead and stick four premade plates of food in the fridge for later,” she said. “They’ll eat when they get hungry, right? And if not…then we have four ready-made plates to eat later.”

“You’re so smart,” Soos said, giving her a smile as he head towards the hall. “I want the last of that lasagna though, babe! You did such a good job making it!”

“Soos, it was premade.”

“Well, you can heat up a premade pasta better than anyone I know!”

— — — — — — — —

The elevator rumbled slowly as it descended beneath the house, the vibrations making the chair—and by extension, Bill—bounce slightly in place.

It didn’t take a genius to guess where the two of them were going, and a cheeky smile was widening across Bill’s face as they continued downwards. “So, Sixer, taking me down to the lab?” he asked. “Gonna run a few tests? Maybe poke me with a couple of needles?”

He tilted his head closer to Ford. “Come ooooon, I know you can’t resist a chance to take some sample blood!” he said cheerfully. “And if I know anything about you mortals, it’s that you’ve got a LOT of blood to spare~!”

Ford remained silent, gaze fixed ahead as the elevator finally slowly to a stop, with the small ding of a bell signaling their arrival. Once the doors slid open, he grabbed the back of the chair and dragged it behind him as he stepped out into the—

—private study.

Huh?

Bill had expected Ford to take them all the way down to the main laboratory for whatever plans he had in mind. More privacy, the wide open space of the portal room acting as a nostalgic backdrop for the both of them…

He couldn’t possibly imagine why Ford would bring them to his stuffy old study instead.

The chair legs clattered loudly against the floor as Ford dragged him through the room, past all the various collections he had accrued over his years of study. Collections that Bill couldn’t help but take a look at while he was pulled along.

Sure, he’d seen plenty of them more times than he could count—whether it was through Stanford’s eyes or the eyes of one of the countless triangles that he had once kept in his home. But hey, long time no see and Bill was always happy to see!

Besides, maybe he’d finally get a proper look at his vessel’s face for the first time while the two of them were down here. He hadn’t missed the fact that nobody in the household had followed up on his request for a mirror, and he could feel the curiosity about his vessel’s appearance rising with each passing minute.

They probably weren’t very tall, judging by the stubby length of the legs he had stared at—and kicked obnoxiously against his chair—for most of the night. And the way that Ford and Stan had towered over him while he was seated only added more credibility to this theory.

Had Birdbrain given him a short vessel as revenge for all the short jokes he had previously tossed their way? If that was the case, then somebody was being very immature.

Aside from that, a few glances at his hands and the fluff of blond hair that hung down over his eyes, he was completely clueless about what his vessel actually looked like.

Ford continued to drag him through the study and towards the far space at the back of the room. A space that brought an elated sparkle to Bill’s eyes once he realized where they were heading. “Oh, we’re going over here~?” he asked delightedly. “Man, I haven’t seen the shrine in age—oh.”

His initial excitement died in his throat as Ford finally stopped and set the chair in place, allowing Bill to get a clearer look at the area around him.

Gone were the golden statues and shimmering prisms resembling his likeness, and the usual tapestries of deep red and gold—each thread stitched with care by Ford’s own hand; he had really gone the extra mile back then—were now replaced with nothing but dreary-gray walls and assorted garbage that Ford had yet to clean up.

The beloved shrine that had once been Ford’s glorious tribute to Bill’s greatness, his godliness—

Gone. Completely torn down.

To add insult to injury, Ford had set the chair down right in the very center of the mess—withered ruins of a once-magnificent display—and made his way over to his workspace. Leaving Bill to stew in his bitterness as he cast a sour look around him, gaze landing on the only thing left near him outside of the discarded trash.

More specifically, an elaborate computer system with its main screen completely busted.

Ford might’ve attempted to cut him off before creating Project Mentem, but having eyes everywhere allowed him to keep tabs on things outside the mindscape. 

And boy howdy, he had sure kept tabs on Ford after his cruel and unwarranted betrayal. Even going so far as to rip handfuls of wires out of the machine whenever Ford’s body succumbed to sleep, setting his progress on the project back further and further. 

Sure, that problem had temporarily solved itself in the form of the Portal incident, but Ford had gotten straight to work upon his return and finally finished the project to completion.

Yeesh, between that and the destruction of the portal, Ford had really spent the entire month-and-a-half after returning to this dimension being as inconvenient to Bill as possible.

A brief spike of panic shot through Bill as the thought of Ford using the machine on him bubbled to the front of his mind. The technology was designed to scramble minds and make reading them near impossible—although for the record, Stanford, he would’ve eventually found some kind of work-around for that—but Bill also knew that before the scrambling process began, the machine would project all those thoughts onto the screen itself.

A weird design choice on Ford’s end, but in an indirect way, it granted him his own artificial method of reading minds.

Sure, the machine had been damaged shortly after completion—oh, Bill had to give Pine Tree some praise in that regard; probably one of the most useful things the little pipsqueak had done in his entire life. But if Ford had been smart enough to understand the complex, multidimensional schematics that Bill had provided for him for the portal’s construction, then repairing some fancy-schmancy thought scrambler would be child’s play.

If Ford managed to get Project Mentem working again, there was a chance that he could snag a glimpse at the deal Bill had made with Tangy. To see a lot of things that he had no business seeing, to know things he had no business knowing—

Hold on a second.

Bill continued to stare hard at the old computer, gaze fixed on one of the smaller, undamaged monitors. The screen was decades old—a tried-and-true relic of the early nineteen-eighties, much like the rest of the technology that Ford and his…assistant had used for their inventions around that point in time—and the inactivity of the machine left a dark reflection of the room and anyone in it on the glass.

And while the angle Bill was situated at made it difficult for him to get a clear look with his functional eye, he could almost make out his vessel’s face. If only he could turn his head at juuuust the right angle—

“Hey—hey!”

And suddenly his head was guided—jerked back to the front by a firm hand around his jaw, and Bill found himself face-to-face with Ford. 

He expected to see the same anger in his eyes that he’d been subjected to for the past several hours. But Ford’s expression was more studious, pupils darting back and forth behind his old lenses in deep concentration—

“ACK!”

A small flash of light was shone in his functional eye before Bill had time to brace himself, and he shrank away from it as best he could—despite Ford’s hand keeping both his head and the small flashlight in place. “Hey, come on,” he griped, snapping his eyelid closed with a nasty look. “Trying to kill me is one thing, but blinding me’s a low blow, even for you!”

Eventually the light was shifted to his right eye, and Ford kept it there for a moment before finally clicking the small flashlight off and tucking it back into his coat. “Had a feeling…”

Despite his irritation towards being manhandled, Bill raised an eyebrow at that remark. Outside of the occasional threat, Ford hadn’t said anything to him the entire night he’d been back.

Granted, his remark was more about him than to him, but it was close enough to count! “Oh, so are you finally ready to talk to me, Sixer?” he tried with a cutesy bat of his eyelashes. “Because lemme tell ya: after being rudely ignored all night, I’m not so sure I’m even in the mood to—hey!”

And now Ford had both his jaw and forehead in a tight grip, keeping his mouth propped open for a moment so he could look inside. “Dental structure appears normal,” he mused quietly. “Canines have already grown in, second molars—”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re researching me,” Bill said with a perturbed scowl once Ford finally let go of his head to scribble down his findings. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered and open to answering any questions you might have about me.”

He flashed Ford a grin. “But like I warned your brother last night, I’d advise against sticking those freaky hands of yours anywhere near these puppies, unless you feel like going from six fingers to five!” he said with a snap of his teeth. “I’d advise against it, though. Those extra fingers of yours are probably your best qualities—can you stop?!”

Ford’s hands were back on his head, this time to push that blonde tuft of hair out of his eyes—

“Oh.”

Ford’s curious stare at his forehead gave Bill pause for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s with the ominous ‘oh’-ing?”

Ford continued to stare in silence for a few seconds, before turning back to his notes to scribble something down.

“Hey, you tell me what you’ve written right now!” Bill demanded, face hot with anger. “Do you hear me, Sixer?! You don’t get to poke and prod me like a lump of flesh clay and then just sit there and not tell me what you’re writing!”

Despite Bill’s ire, Ford ignored him in favor of finishing his notes, only stopping to reach for the rope he had grabbed from the bedroom. And as Bill watched, he laid the rope in a perfect circle on the floor around the chair and himself. 

Yeesh, whether it was through a sketch in a notebook, spray paint on the ground, or with a simple rope, Ford really did have a knack for creating near-perfect circles. An impressive talent, although Bill had always—and understandably—favored his ability to draw a perfect equilateral triangle far more than some silly circles.

Once Ford had closed the circle, he moved to one of the nearby storage cupboards for the needed moonstones and vial of mercury. “You know, I feel like you’re being a biiiiit excessive with all of this, Fordsy,” Bill piped up. “I mean, I’m already bound pretty tightly over here. What’s another spell circle going to do?”

Rather than reply, Ford set the remaining objects in place and returned to his desk to fiddle with something just out of Bill’s line of sight—despite several failed attempts on Bill’s end to stretch his body far enough to get a peek. And after a few minutes, he stepped away again and made his way towards the spiral staircase on the other side of the study.

Bill continued to watch as he descended upwards and towards the level that waited just above the room; a hallway that connected to the cellar beneath one side of the shack, an additional hidden entrance that opened up to the house on the other, and a bathroom smack dab in the very center. All of which was comfortably situated just beneath the stairwell on the upper floor.

All in all, a general area that provided solutions to more than one type of emergency.

It was only when Ford disappeared completely from sight near the top of the stairs that Bill turned his attention back to the desk. So Mister Brainiac wanted to play sneaky with his plans, did he? Well, if there was anything he should’ve picked up on last night, it was that he should’ve used that extra rope to restrain Bill’s legs!

Or maybe not, since that would’ve only inconvenienced him further.

With an inhale of breath, Bill leaned backwards in the chair before throwing all of body weight forward and bringing himself to his feet. He wasn’t quite used to using his new human limbs yet—let alone with a whole chair on his back—but all he needed to do was get within reach of something sharp long enough to cut his ropes.

Sure, the circle on the floor limited his range of motion, but the rope had been placed right up against the broken monitors. Maybe if he angled the legs of the chair enough, he could get a piece of glass from the broken computer monitor within his line of reach. All he needed to do was take a few wobbly steps—

“Oh, come on!”

—wobblier than expected, apparently. For it was one humiliating crash later that Bill found himself as acquainted with the hardwood floor as he had been with the rug back in Abuelita’s bedroom. 

His face was smushed against the ground in a way that barred his sight of the stairs. But he could hear Ford stomping back down them in an instant—likely to investigate the source of the crashing sound—and it was only a few seconds later that an unseen hand gripped the back of the chair and hoisted it up off the floor.

Both chair and Bill were rotated forward again, and his own glare met Ford’s as the two of them stared at each other in furious silence. “See, I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” Bill finally said with a roll of his eyes. “You’re not the one who keeps giving the floorboards the wrong impression about what kinda shape I am.”

He tilted his head dramatically. “With how often my face meets the floor, these poor planks probably see me as some kind of…woodwork womanizer at this point~! My reputation’s gonna take ages to recover from such a scathing blow!”

He dropped the theatrics for a moment to roll his eyes. “Or at least, it would if I actually cared about that kinda thing, haha!”

With a huff, Ford set the chair back in place with a solid thunk of the chair legs, only to step just out of range when Bill tried to kick at him. “And seriously, would it kill you to put some carpet or a rug down in here?”

“I had a rug.”

“Yeah, well, what happened to—”

Any further protests died in Bill’s throat under Ford’s narrowed glare, and he looked away with a muttered: “...Could’ve just bought another one.” as Ford returned to his desk.

— — — — — — —

Even as far back as their childhood, Stan had often teased Ford for the way he organized things. Whether it was his half of their dresser drawers, his school binders—

—heck, even his beloved journals of all the Whatchamacallits and Whatsittoyas of Gravity Falls had been organized to some degree.

Granted, everything was always organized in an incredibly-nerdy way—one that only Stanford Pines and Stanford Pines alone could properly decipher. Sorting sock brands by alphabetical order? Academic awards by height and medal quality?

And organized didn’t always mean clean. Even a complete and total memory wipe hadn’t managed to make Stan forget the time he had come home to most of Ford’s science books and countless sheets of paper with associated scribblings scattered around the bedroom. All of which Ford had insisted that Stan not move in the slightest, because he was ‘on the verge of completing a super important experiment for the science fair, and couldn’t afford to move a single paper’.

Wait, had it been for the science fair? It could’ve just been some random project—whatever, it didn’t matter at the moment.

Regardless of his eccentric methods—and how often Stan had ended up spending the night on the living room couch to avoid another one of his brother’s nerdy all-nighters—the fact of the matter was that Ford was an expert in keeping his stuff organized. A place for everything and everything in its place, and all that other jazz Ma had always taught them growing up.

And despite Stan reacting to such behavior in the only way he knew how to react—juvenile, brotherly teasing with the occasional noogie for good measure—Ford had always gotten the upper hand in the end whenever they needed to locate something in a hurry.

And thankfully that mindset had carried over to adulthood, and included his notes on all of the oddities that the two of them had discovered during their sea travels across the past nine months.

It had taken Stan about two minutes to locate said notes after he finally managed to calm down from the events that had unfolded inside the shack. Whether or not that also took two minutes was up for debate—if there was a universe out there where two minutes and ten minutes were the exact same length of time.

Yeesh, Stan could practically hear Ford in his head at the very thought, going off on elaborate story about how he’d actually jumped through several dimensions where time worked like that during his travels.

His grip on the saltwater-stained journal—one whose front was emblazoned with a golden hand and the number four—tightened as he moved to the counter at the back of the cabin, and set it down in front of him before flipping open to the first page.

It wasn’t the best idea in the world, since it limited their options to sea-based methods. And unless that little triangle twerp had some unknown weakness to water, they probably wouldn’t get anywhere with just the one book. 

But for now, it was an idea.

#Hayley Writes Triangulum #Gravity Falls #Triangulum The Fic #Bill Cipher #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #My Writing #Long Post #(More characters in the chapter; they are just tagged for the art)

[battydora]

SOMETHING DIRTY

masterlist | rules | pinned post

pairing: kyojuro rengoku, reader

cw: suggestive, minors dni!!, gn reader (no body spec.), drabble, dirty talking, teasing, established relationship, reader implied to be demon slayer, barely proof read

wc: +0.8k

after a few months into the relationship, it was expected for some intimacy to happen, specifically sexual intimacy. all of the times you had sex with kyojuro, were unintentional, the tension just built up in the moment, you maybe got carried away in your make out sessions or maybe a goodbye/hello kiss turned into something spicier out of the sudden. it was weird any of you built up horniness and hold it in for a long while til the other wasn't busy for them and was also in the mood, it's not like you had time to constantly think about it since your demon slayer duties occupied both of you a lot of time and dedication.

however, you can consider this time to be different from others. it is a sunny day outside, you're sitting in your living room reading a book alongside kyojuro who is doing the same with a book different. the room is silent and peaceful, kyojuro payed you a visit today because his few students were all busy in their own demon slayer missions and, since he didn't have any important mission to accomplish at the moment, he decided skip training today so he could spend time with you. these unusual days off from his duty as a hashira were totally rare, so what better way to spend it than with you? some quality time together is always good for your spirits and relationship.

however, the silence surrounding you both leaves a lot of room for thoughts, in this case, your mind flashes a flashback of one of your intimate nights with kyojuro, it's no like it didn't happen to you already, when you're not extremely busy and you let your mind wander freely, these flashbacks snap you back to reality, specially since your boyfriend is so good at pleasuring you, you often find yourself remembering kyojuro's moans and grunts, how he praises you for being so stunning and perfect. you definitely enjoy his company, even in bed, so thinking about these things having your loving boyfriend, your so good looking boyfriend next to you, kinda makes you feel a little bit turned on. you subtly raise your gaze to look at his sitting figure on your couch, just a seat away from you. you analyze his body, his face, his neck, his hands... everything about him is precious and beautiful, even more when he's focused on something. your mind keeps on wandering you don't even notice how long you've been looking at him.

you're lucky he didn't notice since he is so focused in his book, but you can't just ignore this intense desire for him growing inside of you, you're not shy and you both know it, when you want something you're most likely to go and get it. this time is not an exception. however, you are not going to be straightforward, you have to taunt him first, to check if he would be up for some intimacy right now, he seems hyperfocused on his book so to draw that focus of his on you, you put your book aside and begin to crawl onto the sofa, reaching kyojuro silently. you hear a curious "hm?" coming from his throat as he smiles and looks at you, curiosity filling his bright red eyes at your sudden approach. his innocent smile tells you your presence itself makes him intensely happy but right now your intentions are quite more different than he thinks.

his head turns ever so slightly when you reach his ear and start whispering to him, a puzzled look takes place on his face but his smile never fades away, he is intrigued, so he nods enthusiastic when you ask him if he wants to know what's been on your mind recently.

his eyes widen in surprise and his cheeks turn slightly red when your mouth unleashes your sudden revelation about your current state, a chill goes down his spine the second you start whispering dirty things to his ear, he looks astonished but listens closely anyways. as he hears you, his eyelids fall slightly and a smug smile grows on his face, he puts his book aside and his head seems to turn slightly towards you, wanting his cheek to press against you, still listening to your lewd words. he bites his lower lip hungrily when he hears you talk about your fantasies, how you wish to have his hands running all over your body, how you moan his name as he pleasures you the best ways.

this really gets him on and can't help himself and moves closer to you, hands slowly reaching your waist until you finish speaking but he doesn't let you since he got so excited he leans closer to you enough to pin you down on the couch, his face turning red as he smiles at you.

"your words made me imagine all sorts of things, my love. was that your intention from the beggining? to tease me like that?" he mumbles softly, voice deepening each sentence.

"oh why? did it work? because that's exactly what i was aiming"

"and you easily accomplished it, love. now... how about we make all of those words an event?"

thanks for reading!

#[ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ] ≫captain’s library #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny smut #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut

[spacecasehobbit]

Consider, if you will, an Oliver Quick who goes back to the maze to save Felix not because he changed his mind, but because he never meant to kill Felix in the first place.

An Oliver who had planned to confess his True Love to Felix and then die dramatically in his arms (hopefully with a bit of sobbing from Felix, or at least a few appropriately devastated tears and maybe even an apology for being unable to love Oliver back the way he deserved), and who changed his mind at Felix's very thorough rejection to, "I'm going to live, I'm going to leave, and I'm never going to think about Felix Catton or his terrible family ever again."

An Oliver who wanders around Saltburn after his confrontation with Felix, wading through the fading dregs of his party and all the people who were supposedly there for him but didn't even know his name, because he was trying to take in Saltburn one last time before locking the memories of this summer away somewhere deep enough to avoid for the rest of his life.

An Oliver who has no idea that Felix drank something he'd been handed by his ex-bestie who he hated now, his ex-bestie who apparently "makes his fucking blood run cold," because really? Honestly, Oliver was kinda surprised that Felix even took the bottle from Oliver and didn't immediately chuck it at Oliver's head.

Why would he drink from it??

Except, at some point in his aimless wandering, he realizes that the bottle is emptier than it should be. Except, there's only one way he can see for the bottle to be emptier than it should be.

He'd be already running by the time he finishes registering the understanding that Felix drank from Oliver's poisoned suicide bottle.

And maybe in this universe, Oliver gets to Felix in time to make him throw up, but not quickly enough for Felix to shrug off the effects or be coherent without a trip to the hospital and some serious bed rest. So by the time Felix wakes up, Oliver is already gone.

Though this is still Oliver, of course, who can use any situation to his advantage, even horrifically traumatizing situations where he almost killed his ex-bestie/crush/One True Love. Honestly, Felix "overdosing" at Ollie's birthday party is the perfect excuse for Oliver to leave Saltburn without looking bad to Felix's family!

And the perfect excuse to still get screw over Farleigh, in the bargain.

After all, how could poor little Ollie with his druggie mum and dead druggie dad be expected to stay in a house where his best mate nearly OD'd on drugs at Oliver's party? Drugs brought into the house by said best mate's own cousin, moreover? It'd just be too traumatizing for him!

Of course, it would also be terribly traumatizing for him to go back to his mum's drug den of a home, too... and he did save the life of Sir James Catton's only son, from said only son's own stupid choices... gee what will he do?

Probably accept some hush money from Sir James Catton that could be used to rent himself a nice little flat near Oxford for the rest of summer. Only because James and Elspeth were so insistent that he let them help him, though, if he was truly set on leaving Saltburn with like half the summer left. Let them help him, and also agree not to go talking about Felix's unfortunate little overdose with other people, that is.

(Maybe this Oliver even gently nudges the conversation towards the idea of Sir James Catton using his connections to help Oliver change schools, so as to really lock himself into the "Getting Over Felix" plan. Nothing like nearly murdering your best mate after he finds out you've been lying to him for months and then brutally rejects your love confession to motivate some personal change, right?)

And then consider Felix: Felix whose last fuzzy memories are of Oliver going all crazy at him in the maze only to throw up a bunch and then finally leave Felix alone; Felix who wakes up in a hospital a day or two later to learn that Oliver did in fact leave Saltburn... but only after he saved Felix's life and then brutally threw Felix under the bus to his parents, first. Felix who learns that, oh yeah, also Farleigh's been kicked out again, possibly for good this time, what with his bringing drugs to the party Felix nearly accidentally offed himself at.

That Felix would have gone crazier than Oliver Quick, waking up to all that.

#saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #honestly i don't think an oliver who poisons felix on purpose would have changed his mind #at least not fast enough to save felix's life #but i *can* imagine an oliver who poisoned felix on accident #and figures it out *just* fast enough to save felix's life #and then evaporate right out of it #leaving felix to deal alone with a mess the likes of which he's never imagined getting himself into

[lcvejoy]

perhaps a very sleepy and chronically ill reader dealing with a bad fatigue few days and Wil's out gone every day until the last day where he notices how bad it is and like maybe a lil bit of caretaking??

but also I see an argument somehow- you do with this how you will!

as always you're a wonderful writer<33

misunderstandings

wilbur soot x gn!reader

word count: 1,337

tw!: arguments, swearing, chronic illness - hurt/comfort tho - not proofread (are y’all noticing a pattern?)

a/n: listen, i tried my best. i don’t have a chronic illness but i tried to be *kinda* broad so if i got it so incredibly wrong, i’m so incredibly sorry. but anything for connor!! whatever connor says, i will do!!

if it were possible to be physically engulfed by your mattress, you think by now you would’ve sunk down to the middle.

rotting away in the same spot you’ve been in for 2 days. your blanket feels heavy, like it’s pinning you down. your limbs feel achy and wobbly, your head has been pounding for hours, and you are so fucking tired.

everytime you move, you feel as if you have to sleep for hours in order to recover from the 10 steps you took.

although this feeling is nothing new, this feeling is still something you’ll never get used to.

wilbur and you have been dating for 6 months. he knows of your chronic illness, but he’s never witnessed your symptoms during bad days. you don’t allow him to see you like this - you’re worried he’ll feel obligated to take care of you.

today wilbur is preforming in a small venue in your town. he’s been talking about it for weeks, excitement and nervousness in his voice each time he tells you about it. he’s been rehearsing everyday for a week for this show, so hiding your flare up from him has been easy. he hasn’t visited you this week, too busy with making sure his show runs perfectly.

you promised him you’d go. you’re determined to show up for him. you want to show him just how much you support his dreams.

so, you decide to take a small nap hoping it’ll give you the energy to get out of bed in time to see his performance.

however, when you wake up, the light outside has faded. you can see the bright streetlights. you check your phone to see if you have time to get yourself together, only to find 6 missed calls and dozens of texts from wil.

you missed the show.

how could you miss the show.

you’re beating yourself up as you lay back down, still so exhausted despite your 5 hour nap.

until you hear keys jingle at your front door. you hold your breath, nervous, knowing it’s an upset, disappointed wil who’s about to step into the door. you try to rehearse what you’re going to say to him, how you’re going to explain your absence, but the words get jumbled and it only exhausts you more.

you hear his footsteps walking towards your bedroom door. he’s dragging his feet and his pace is slow. the door creaks open. you don’t face him, you can’t. how could you look at him right now knowing you’ve broken your promise? you don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at him again without feeling guilty.

“this is what you were doing?” he asks, his voice is laced with anger and disappointment, “sleeping? you were sleeping while i was waiting for you to show up?”

he pauses. you don’t move or speak. he scoffs before continuing; “why does everything i say to you seem to just go through your thick fucking skull, y/n?” his voice is louder now, laced with venom. your eyes well up with tears, your head still pounding, you limbs still aching. “i’m sorry” you whisper, you’re not sure how to fix this.

“you’re sorry?” he scoffs as he speaks, “that’s it? you’re fucking sorry? i’ve been talking about this for weeks, i was so excited for you to see this and all you have to say is you’re fucking sorry?” his voice echoes through your room as he speaks, each word he says bouncing off the walls and hitting your head like a boulder causing a sharp pain. you’re exhausted, and the emotions and words are only making you more tired.

“i’m sick. i should’ve texted you but i fell asleep. i didn’t mean to, i had every intention on waking up on time to come but…i’m just exhausted” your face is half squished into your pillow, causing your words to come out muffled.

“this isn’t fucking about you” he yells now, his voice coming out like a boom, you sink further into your bed, “why are you making this about you? i- i trusted you”

exhaustion is hitting you fast. despite the volume of his voice, the pain in his words, the emotions in your body - you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

“c-can we talk about this when i’m better? please? i-i’m so tired, wil.” your voice is slurred as you speak. there’s silence as your eyes blink slowly. you’re forcing your body to stay awake until you gain his permission.

you hear footsteps approach you, and a body slowly steps into view. wilbur crouches down so he’s within your line of sight. his face is etched with worry now, a much different sight to the one you were expecting.

he searches your face, looking you up and down. you imagine you look terrible. you haven’t had the energy to shower, you ran out of water in your water bottle and you’ve only eaten the emergency snacks in your bedside drawer.

“is this a flare up?” he asks, his voice gentle and soft. you nod your head against the pillow.

“i should’ve told you” you whisper, “but i really did intend on coming. i promise. i would never miss a show on purpose.”

“i know” he whispers back.

“i know you wouldn’t. i’m sorry” he reaches the back of his cold hand to touch your warm forehead. the touch is soothing, causing you to lean further into it.

“what hurts, baby?” he whispers gently.

“i’m okay” you respond quickly. you don’t want him to feel responsible for taking care of you, especially after breaking your promise and hurting him.

“let me take care of you.” his eyes are filled with worry as he speaks. “i’m sorry i yelled. i shouldn’t have yelled at you. i wish you would’ve told me this was happening.”

“didn’t want you to worry” your voice is slurred and slow, the exhaustion is obvious.

“i always worry” he laughs, before immediately switching back into caretaking mode - “let me take care of you. please. tell me what’s hurting you, precious” he says it so gently, so full of love and worry. he’s petting your hair, waiting for you to give him instructions on what to do next. he’s never seen you like this before and it breaks his heart to see you in pain and so exhausted you can barely speak. it hurts him even more when he realizes he yelled at you while you laid alone in this state.

“m’head” you mumble.

he nods, getting up and taking your empty water bottle in his hands. “i’m gonna get you some water and medicine, okay? you can sleep after you take some pain meds” he explains, still whispering, before softly walking out the door to grab what you need.

when he returns, you gratefully take the two pills laid out in his palm and drink the cold water before laying back down.

“can you hold me?” you ask. though it’s muffled and slurred, he understands.

“‘course i can” he responds. he crawls into the opposite side of your bed, inching towards you but trying to keep his movements slow and soft as to not further agitate your pain.

“i’m sorry for missing the show” you say, as he pulls your back into his chest and lays his head behind yours. he kisses your shoulder softly, tracing his thumb over your stomach as he holds you.

“that’s okay, darling” he whispers, kissing the back of your head, “just rest. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you shut your eyes, and sleep quickly takes you away.

wilbur stays awake, holding you as you sleep and watching as your chest rises and falls. he feels guilty for yelling, for assuming your absence was intentional. he should’ve known you would never do anything to hurt him - at least, not if you could help it.

we’ll talk about it in the morning, he thinks, before he joins you in a deep sleep.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fic #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt #wilbur soot x you #mcyt x you

[burbur-49]

Sunsets

Word count: 875 ish

Cw: phantom angst, mainly dew x phantom

@thatfuckinjester

Even though it was required to have two quintessence ghouls at the ministry at all times, Aether and Omega were both out helping at another ministry, and no other quint ghoul could be found. The reason for that is every now and then quint ghouls fade into stardust, and the help of another quint ghoul is needed to make sure the fading quint ghoul doesn't permanently disappear. Phantom, being the new ghoul that he is, doesn't know that this happens. It doesn't help that he hasn't been told that it will happen to him.

None of the other ghouls didn't think it'd happen just a few months after the tour ended, mainly because it took two to three years for Aether and Omega to fade away for the first time. Phantom got scared when he was walking through the ministry's hallways to go to the observatory in the loft of the library and his phone fell through his hand. He was even more scared when his hand started phasing through the floor when he tried to pick it up. He used his non-fading hand to pick up his phone and ran to the library, thinking he was just hallucinating from a lack of sleep or lack of connecting with the stars. Ue quickly made his way to the observatory.

He laid on the ground of the observatory and looked at the stars, letting his thoughts connect to them. An hour and a half later he disconnected his thoughts from the stars, sat up, and when he looked at his legs, they had turned into a shiny silver-gray dust. He was terrified. He picked up his phone and went to a group chat he barely ever texted in - the pack's group chat. He texted a small, but urgent text:

> “Help. Turning to dust. In observatory.”

It's thirty minutes later when someone finally comes to him - Dewdrop. He can hear Dewdrop groan as he climbs the ladder to get to the observatory. Dew turned on the light of the observatory and looked until he spotted the little quint. Most of the ghouls thought he was joking; it wasn't soon enough for him to fade away for the first time.

At least they thought.

With a worried gasp, Dew ran over and sat next to Phantom.

“Little Star? When'd this start?” He Worriedly asked.

“I dunno. My hand was kinda see-through earlier, but I thought it was because I hadn't connected with the stars in a while.”

Shit. Why hadn't they told him about this? Even more so because connecting with the stars whilst fading speeds up the process. Dew holds Phantom's hand and texts the group chat.

> “He wasn't lying. He's fading, fast. I need Swiss and Rora here quickly, Sunny if you can find her.”

Right after he sends that text Phantom's hand fades through his and back down to the ground.

“Phantom, I need you to stay awake as long as you can, okay? You're fine. This is normal for quint ghouls when they come top-side.”

“Does that mean I'm going back to the pit? Or am I joining the stars?” The little quint asks with his round starry eyes.

“I dunno, but I don't want to find out.”

While they wait for Swiss and Rora (possibly Sunny) to come, Dew quietly sings Ride by Twenty One Pilots for Phantom, a song they both enjoyed. Dewdrop watched as Phantom's body slowly turned to stardust. All three multi ghouls arrived when only Phantom's torso and head were left. All three quickly sat around the smaller ghoul, Sunny immediately started trying to keep his soul grounded to the Earth instead of letting it flow away with the small bit of quintessence she possessed while Swiss quickly gave Aurora a run-down on how to help keep his soul on the Earth.

While the multi's did that Dew spoke to Phantom to keep him calm. Well, it more to keep himself calm, he loved the little quint even though he didn't show it much.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it kind of feels like I'm asleep? Like I'm here but I can't feel what's happening.”

“Oh okay.” Dew sighs.

Around fifteen minutes later, when just Phantom's head is left, not knowing if they'll be able to ground his soul, Dew softly kisses Phantom, possibly for the last time. Phantom giggles when he's kissed by Dew, like the many times he did when they shared small kisses.

“I love you, Dew.”

“Love you too, Little star.”

And then he was gone. His whole body turned to dust. Sunny, Swiss, and Rora are all trying their hardest to hold onto his soul, but it doesn't work. When Rora stops grasping at the invisible strings of his soul, she grabs at the stardust he left behind and sobs, loud and heartbreakingly.

Dew not one for tears, cries. Hard. Sunny texts the group chat a small simple thing:

> “He's gone.”

In the next few minutes everyone's there, Copia included. They're all there mourning the loss of their packmate, bestfriend, lover, and for Aurora, life mate. They're there until sunrise, and from the observatory, the sunrise looks stunning.

“You know, I heard somewhere that the most beautiful sunsets are made by the souls of those who've left us.” Aurora quietly says to the group.

Who knew the last they'd see of Phantom was his stardust?

#phantom/aeon angst #phantom x dewdrop #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #the band ghost #papa copia

[dreamlandcreations]

Love you more

Jake Seresin x pilot!Reader

Summary: Jake wasn't looking for anything permanent but he was helpless to resist you...

Warnings: a bit of angst, okay this might have become a lot more angsty than I intended, idiots in love, mention of Coyote's almost crash, height difference, crying by the end

It started at the academy. You were a challenge in more than one way. Competition on the job and irresistible temptation otherwise.

You knew Jake Seresin wasn't the relationship kinda guy and you didn't want to be just another fool who fell for his charm and into his bed, hoping it could be more. Because that was the thing, you knew you wanted to be more.

Despite your resolve, you ended up sleeping with him anyway. What took you by surprise was that he wanted more. First, it was just having fun on a regular but soon you became friends and somehow, even though no one knew other than Coyote and maybe Phoenix, you found yourself in a monogamous relationship whether you said it aloud or not.

He could never talk about this stuff and you accepted that, whatever he would give would be enough for you because you were afraid to ask for more. From before, you knew why he was insistent to keep his distance.

The guys teased him about you, that you brushed off his attempts like no one else. One of them said he was losing his game, another remarked that he was awfully determined, and someone else mentioned that he might be in love with you.

"Nah, man. Love is not in the cards for me. My one and only love is flying, that's it." At the sceptical looks, he sighed and explained his reasoning. "Look, I've seen widows and orphans grieve for a husband and father they hardly knew, it's not gonna be me."

They didn't know you heard them, it wasn't your intention to eavesdrop but you heard your callsign and it made you pause and listen in. Later, you found out he was talking about his own father and that explained a lot. It's when you decided to give whatever he wanted a chance.

A few years later, you were still together. The several months you had to spend separated all faded away as soon as you reunited when you were both called back to Top Gun.

Or at least you could push down the longing for a while. You were determined to enjoy what little time you had together before you were sent away again.

Javy tried to talk to you about your relationship with his best friend when he caught a glimpse of longing and saw you hide your pain, a well-practiced manoeuvre that you could manage in a blink of an eye. But he caught it, and having spent the last few months with an absolutely miserable Jake, he decided to do something about you two being idiots.

"I'm surprised he didn't put a ring on your finger the moment you met again."

You frown at him, realising he was not kidding laugh at the idea.

"It's not like that. We are not like that." You sigh, pushing down your feelings again.

"You are an idiot." He states with a stern face.

Laughing at him, you shove his shoulder. "And I know why you are friends with him, asshole."

"I'm serious," he insists.

"So am I." You sigh, looking away for a moment to collect yourself. "His first love would always be flying, I could never compete with that. I accepted that this is all we get. Please, leave it at that."

He complies with your wish. For now.

A few days later Coyote almost dies and as he lies in a hospital bed, waiting for a check-up Jake barges in the door, clearly upset with what happened and rushing to see if he's okay.

After he reassures his friend that he will be just fine, Javy decides to make something good come out of this.

"You know, I could have died today." He starts, satisfied when he sees Jake's jaw clench in a mix of anger and fear. "It could have been you though. It could have been her."

He lets that sink in for a moment before he continues.

"She thinks you love flying more than her. That if she asked for more she would lose you and it's hurting her." You are hurting her goes unsaid. "I was with your cranky ass for the last few months, I know she's wrong. So don't wait until it's too late. Tell her."

Jake is speechless. He leaves after Javy practically kicks him out to find you. During the short drive back to you, his mind is on repeat with one thought.

It could have been her.

As soon as you open the door he crashes into you, kissing you desperately until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

You don't have time to question him before he says the one thing you thought you'd never hear from him.

"I love you." He whispers as he cradles your head in his palms, bending down to look into your eyes.

You both cry and laugh as he leans into another kiss and another and another.

After you separate again you take your chance and say what has been troubling you for a while.

"I was offered a promotion."

"Darlin', that's wonderful." His cheering turns into a frown as he spots yours.

"I wouldn't be flying anymore but I wouldn't be tied to a specific base either." And now he gets it why you haven't told him yet.

"But you love flying. If this is because of me..." You won't let him finish.

"I love flying. I even love flying with you." The adorable 'what's that supposed to mean' expression has you giggling for a moment before you elaborate. "You can be a jackass, Hangman."

He shrugs nonchalantly, basically admitting your fair point.

"I love flying." You repeat, hesitating before you say what you wanted to say for a long time. "But I love you more."

You rendered him speechless for a moment.

"I can't make you give that up for me."

"You are not. It is my decision."

"What if I you didn't have to." You don't understand at first but as soon as you register his meaning you start to protest vehemently.

"No! No, you can't."

"And you can?"

"It's different."

"How?"

When you look away and don't come up with an answer he has a suspicion about your reasons to hold these all back until now. He pleads you to tell him.

"I thought flying was your only love." It's better than more than a whisper but it's enough to break his heart nonetheless.

"I love flying." He guides your gaze back to his. "But I love you more."

And that breaks something in you, your tears return and this time you are nothing more than a sobbing mess in his arms.

He pulls you to the couch while you cry, holding you tight as you let it all out. When you fall asleep right there he just looks at you, feeling terrible for what he put you through while also being happy that you put up with him for so long.

Jake is already trying to figure out what to do to find a solution so you could be together, just like he promised you before exhaustion took over you. He knew one thing he had to do for certain and Javy definitely needs to be the best man for it.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman #hangman x reader

[heich0e]

okokok but but consider this - suna as your brother's best friend/ best friend's brother

tags: f!reader, tw age difference, tw size difference (he's a big boy!!), one (1) use of nii-chan in a decidedly suggestive way, suna's a bit of a creep but in like a genuine weirdo way not the pervert way (or is it...)

Ever since high school when he was scouted by Inarizaki, Suna has made two trips back to Aichi prefecture each year to visit his maternal grandparents.

Your brother, his childhood best friend since kindergarten, has always looked forward to his visits home.

You? Not as much.

It's not that you necessarily dislike Suna Rintarou, he's just... your brother's weird friend. Always quiet. Maybe a little irritating when you think about the way he and your brother used to tease you--pulling faces and calling you a baby by virtue of the fact that they happened to be born six years ahead of you. But there was always enough of an age difference between you that the three of you were just never particularly close.

To you he's just some guy who used to make fun of the training wheels on your little pink bicycle.

And to him you're just his friend's kid sister.

"Did I tell you Suna went pro?" Your brother asks as the two of you sit at the low table that serves as the centre point of the living room in your family's home. The kotatsu's quilt has been packed away for the warmer months of the year, and the heater is left off. "He plays in the v-league now for EJP Raijin."

You're sharing a plate of fruit your mother has prepared for you to share in celebration of having both her adult children back under her roof for a few weeks: you, home from college for a portion of your summer break, and your brother home for 9 days on what is doubling as a business trip for his work--though he has no work obligations today if his baggy shorts and faded graphic t-shirt are any indication.

"Yeah, only about eighty times," you say with a roll of your eyes, popping a piece of sliced peach into your mouth. "Why would I care, anyway?"

"I just think it's kinda cool," your brother says excitedly. "Little Rin in the big leagues."

"He's been taller than you since you were nine," you mutter around the piece of fruit stuffed in your cheek.

Your brother curls his lip at you in petty offence, and you respond with a wide, blithe smile.

"He might even be scouted for the national team, y'know," your brother supplies uselessly as you reach for a ruby red strawberry, as though that might be the bit of trivia that sparks your interest. "He'd be going to the olympics."

"The olympics are a frivolous, antiquated spectacle riddled with corruption, that fosters needless overspending, and that continues to platform harmful autocracies as legitimate political powers. The entire institution should have been abolished years ago," you reply, punctuating the sentiment by shoving the entire berry held between your fingers into your mouth.

Your brother blinks at you blankly.

"What the hell are they teaching you at that school of yours?" he asks with an incredulous shake of his head as he pushes himself up from the kotatsu, shuffling off towards the kitchen as he grumbles something about socialism.

"It's called critical thinking, you should try it sometime!" you call after him, but your mouth is still full so you doubt he understands it.

You're left picking around the plate of fruit idly, the warm summer breeze blowing through the open patio doors at the back of your childhood home that lead out onto the covered porch.

The air is heavy with humidity, the kind of atmospheric pressure that harkens an impending storm. The sky has been grey and ominous for the better part of the morning, with the immediate forecast calling for rain. You lean forward with a sigh, resting your cheek against the cool tabletop, wondering when the first drops will fall and the insufferable humidity might finally break.

You let your heavy eyelids flutter shut.

A sharp pain between your eyes is what rouses you from your impromptu nap some time later, though you aren't sure you drifted anywhere past the periphery of consciousness.

You furrow your brow, but the pain is still present. Persistent.

You peel your eyes open, lashes fluttering as you will your bleary gaze to focus, only to see Suna Rintarou standing above you, poking you in the forehead with one long finger.

"You sleep like the dead," he says dryly.

"Oh my GOD!" you yelp, sitting up so abruptly that you actually end up falling back gracelessly onto your ass. You'd been kneeling at the kotatsu, and your legs have fallen asleep, pins and needles prickling through to your feet. "What the HELL, Suna-san!" you bark, cheeks flaring hot as you glower up at him.

"It's actually kind of concerning," he remarks, ignoring your indignation. "Took you like five whole minutes of poking to even crack an eye."

"God, you're so weird," you hiss, rubbing your legs to stimulate blood flow back to your extremities--possibly a little more vigorously than you need to.

"Nice to see you too," he says, expression neutral but eyes alight with a familiar mischief.

"What are you even doing here?" you ask, kneading your thumbs into the plush of your thighs. The hem of your sundress is rumpled from the strange position you'd been napping in, you can't help but notice as you stare down at your lap. You wonder how you'll be able to get the creases out.

"Here to see your brother," the boy above you replies simply, like it should be obvious.

"Well, where is he?" you ask, looking around the room. There's no sign of your brother anywhere, and the house is eerily quiet.

"Not sure, I just got here." Suna shrugs impassively.

"He didn't let you in?" you ask, confused.

"No, I came in through the back," Suna says, nodding towards the open patio doors. You'd forgotten for a moment that Suna hasn't used your family's front door since... well, ever.

"How long were you standing in here watching me sleep?" you ask him sullenly.

"Just long enough to snap this," Suna says, holding up his cellphone were a photo of you slumped against the tabletop lights up the screen.

"Delete that," you order him.

"Don't think I will," he says, clicking the button on the screen to lock the device, the screen going black.

"Suna-san, I swear to fucking god." You force yourself up onto your unsteady legs, taking a step towards him. "Delete it."

"Language," Suna chides you flatly with a click of his tongue, blinking down at you.

Christ, when did he get so.... so...

Big?

He's always been taller than you, but the sheer breadth of him now. The way he towers over you. Looms over you in a way that seems to take up your entire line of sight. It's unexpected and a little off-putting.

But size-difference aside, you're not ready to give up.

"Delete. It," you repeat yourself firmly, reaching for the device he's still holding up in his hand.

You stumble forward on your next step in his direction, your circulation still not quite what it should be, and it sends you toppling straight into the very man you were making every effort to intimidate.

But for all Suna's strength, he's not expecting it, and the two of you end up toppling back across the couch behind him--you resting on top of him and him sprawled on his back.

You pick yourself up slightly, jarred by the sudden fall, using your hands against his firm chest to lift yourself up and look at him.

He's peering down at you when your gazes meet, his dark hair ruffled from the ordeal, his eyes scanning your face.

"Sorry, Suna-san," you say, quiet and embarrassed. You move to push yourself up off his chest, only to notice that his hand is on the small of your back, keeping you there.

"What happened to Rin-nii?" he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it.

You make a confused, flustered sound.

"Er, well,"--you shift away slightly and this time he lets you go, his hand falling onto the sofa without protest as you rest back on your knees between his parted legs--"we aren't kids anymore."

Suna peers at you, his tongue peeking out from between his lips to swipe across them. Your eyes follow the motion without thinking, flickering up to his when you realize what you've done. Your hands curl in your lap, fisting the material of your rumpled skirt.

"No," he says, and the implication of his words makes something skitter hot and fizzling down your spine, "we aren't, are we?"

Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you feel the way the sound shakes the earth. The sudden shift.

The skies outside the patio doors open, and it begins to pour.

#suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou #suna x you #suna x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

[illfoandillfie]

hey! tysm for the student smut blurb thing I requested a few months ago (I’m the one obsessed with curtains lol), it was amazing!

so I was thinking that roger would have been the type to buy the hitachi magic wand (like I can just picture him hearing about it, especially with going to Japan so much, and buying it to try out with his girlfriend) so could you maybe pretty please write something like that? like he hears about it on a trip to Japan and brings it home to try with reader (and maybe orgasm torture her a bit lol)? maybe it’s a Halloween or Christmas gift if you want to make it holiday-themed (or could just be a random gift, I don’t mind).

no worries if not ofc!

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 17

Oooo this is a fun one! Thanks for the request!

Warnings: sex toys - hitachi, little bit of overstim, kinda christmas related, mostly dom!rog but also a little bit switchy.

“You busy love?” Roger called out as he neared the living room.  You looked at the plate of crackers and cheese you’d just settled down with, intending to enjoy a trashy magazine with your afternoon snack, “Uhh, no, what is it?”   He was grinning as he walked towards the couch, before thrusting a present towards you, “Merry Christmas.”  “Oh!” More than a little surprised, you took the long rectangular git from him. The wrapping was a little messy and you could see a small area he’d patched up with a square of excess paper, though he'd tried to cover some of it with a bow.   “I know it’s a bit early,” he added, but I want you to have it now.  “Why? It’s not alive is it?”  “It’s not alive,” Roger laughed, “Just something I picked up for you while I was in Japan.”  You hummed as you gave the box a light shake, listening for any noise that might give away what it was. “But you’ve already given me a Japanese souvenir. I love my little lucky cat.”  “I know, but this is something else. Just open it love.”  “You’re very keen for me to open this box.”  “Well I thought you’d probably want to use it once you saw it.”  “And I couldn’t use it on Christmas Day?”  “Not until after our guests leave.”  You gave it another rattle, “Okay so not alive. Something I’ll want to use but not around others?”  “This would go quicker if you just ripped off the wrapping.”  “Is it that I can’t use it in front of others or I wouldn’t want to?”  “Well you can use it round me whenever you want but I imagine if you pulled it out on Christmas our families would be quite uncomfortable.”  “Oh so it’s dirty then.”  Roger answered with a cheeky grin.  That got you more excited and ready to move on from your teasing guessing game. Eagerly you tugged at the ribbon and then wrapping paper, making no effort to be neat. Fingers twitching with excitement, you worked the lid of the box off and.....didn’t know what you were looking at.   “It’s a massage wand,” Roger said, seeing your confusion, “like a vibrator thing.”  “I already have a vibrator.”  “Yeah but this one’s more powerful. It’ll get you off really really well.”  “Oh, okay.” you tried to sound enthusiastic when you were mostly just confused. The vibrators you were accustomed to were small, perfect for targeting a specific point, even of being worked into you. This thing seemed too large to be able to properly stimulate, not to mention big enough that it might as well have been a flashing neon sign outside your house that said WANKING.  “I thought you’d be more excited,” Roger said, his own enthusiasm faded.  “Sorry honey,” you cooed, swooping in to give him a small kiss, “I’m sure I’ll love it when I try it out. I just don’t quite see why I’d need another vibrator when I already have a good one.” You reached into the box to pull it out and found the power cord, “One I don’t need to plug into a wall to use.”  “That’s just cause you haven’t seen it on, you haven’t felt it yet.”  “And you have?” Your eyebrow was raised again.  “Just in the shop. And they were advertising it as a way to massage sore back muscles and stuff so it wasn’t like bad or anything. But I got to turn it on and get a sense of it. My hand was tingling after, it’s more powerful than you’d believe. Plus it really helped my back.”  You giggled at the thought of Roger being shown the gadget in a brightly lit store. It was somehow funnier than if he had found it in a seedy Japanese sex store.  “I thought it might be good for when I’m on tour and stuff but also that we could use it together. It’d be pretty hot making you cum like that.”  The idea did sound kind of fun and you hummed at the thought, “Okay yeah that does sound hot. Let’s try it out.”   “Now?”  “Yeah, now,”  Roger grinned again, “Just wait and see, you’ll lose your mind over it.” 

Roger ushered your quickly to the bedroom, pulling you into a kiss once you arrived. You giggled again at the effort he was going to to turn you on, his hands squeezing your butt, his lips moving to your neck as he worked on undressing you. You were very glad you had such a horny, attentive partner. Especially once he really started getting you worked up, gently tugging your hair and teasing your nipples as he removed your bra. He removed far less of his own clothing, much more interested in stripping you down to just your knickers. Even then, when he’d told you to hop on the bed, he made no move to shuck his jeans or tee. Instead he stepped around the side of the bed and bent down to plug your present into the wall.   You watched in anticipation. Even if you didn’t really believe this new toy would be much different to your old, it was still fun to share the experience with Roger.   He touched the head of the vibrator to your thigh, and you giggled as the light touch tickled. It was softer than you’d expected.   You stopped giggling when he turned it on, “Jesus.”   He’d drawn it away as he turned it on for the first time and you heard how loud it was. You’d not expected silence, that just didn’t exist in a vibrator, but you couldn’t help the idea of the neon sign popping back into your mind.   “It’s only loud because it’s good,” Roger reassured, “Just wait.”  You swore when he brushed the round head against your thigh again, not for long but for long enough for the feeling to linger.  Roger chuckled, “I told you it was powerful.” He moved it slightly higher up your thigh and you jolted at the feel of it on your more sensitive skin.  

He went slowly, inching it up your thigh, onto your hip, letting you adjust to the sensation of it before he stroked it over the crotch of your underwear. That alone was enough to have your breath catching in your throat. You’d played with sex toys before, you’d used a few different types of vibrators over the year, but this was different. You’d never felt anything like it. Its large size seemed suddenly to not only make sense (how else would such a motor fit inside) but to be a blessing in disguise. Anything smaller and the thing would have vibrated right out of Roger’s hand, if it didn’t destroy every nerve in your clit first.    Roger rubbed it along your knickers a few times, smirking at the growing wet patch it was creating.   “See love, it’s really working for you isn’t it? Already so wet. Should we see if it can make you cum just as easily?”  You whimpered a little as he wiggled your underwear down with one hand, the other maintaining a firm hold on the handle of the wand.   The vibrations were even more intense without the flimsy barrier of your panties. Once again, he only gave you a small taste before he moved the toy away, letting you get your bearings. But that little touch wasn’t enough and you quickly let Roger know you needed more.   He’d grinned and you just knew you’d be listening to him gloat for a week. Thankfully though he’d kept mum in the moment, making sure you were really ready before he brough the head of the wand to your clit.   After a matter of seconds you moaned. None of your other toys came close to feeling the same. The vibrations from the wand seemed to resonate outwards from where Roger was grinding it against your clit, the larger surface area from its tip and its double strength pulse making the pleasure radiate out through your cunt. Roger barely moved it but the occasional roll was all you needed for an unexpectedly quick orgasm to overtake you.  

“Holy shit Rog,” was the first thing you managed to say.  “And that was just on the lowest setting?”  “It has higher settings?!” You didn’t know whether to be amazed or horrified at the thought of even faster or more potent.   Roger laughed, “Yeah, 2 other speeds and then a few different patterns.” He clicked the button a few times and you heard its speed adjust slightly each time, until he stopped it on pattern that seemed to alternate between a short burst of vibrations and a sustained but softer buzz.   You squirmed where you lay, “Let me feel?”  Roger obliged, holding it back to your clit. Your orgasm built a little slower this time, the pattern keeping you from speeding towards release as quickly as before. But it still didn’t take as long as you knew it could for you to reach the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard and making you whimper as the continued vibrations overstimulated you.   “I knew it’d be good but fuck I could really torture you with this.” Roger pulled the toy away again and stopped the buzzing.  You could only groan at the thought, remarkably horny considering your two quick orgasms.  Roger laughed, “See, I knew you’d like it.”  Still laying back you nodded, blindly reaching out to pat his thigh but instead your hand found his stiff cock trapped in his jeans. A teasing, maybe I’ll just replace you, died on your lips as you realised how hard he was. Instead you said, “Do you wanna try it?”  “Try what, love?”  “Try the wand thing, whatever you call it. See how it feels with a cock.”  “Huh,” he considered your idea as you pushed yourself to sit up, “I’d thought about using it on you while I was fucking you but I hadn’t even thought of trying it on myself. Now that you’ve said it though I’m very keen.”  Laughing you took the toy from his loosened grip, giving the buttons some experimental presses, “Alright, pants off and lie down.”  Roger swallowed hard but did as you said. 

#my writing #my blurbs #blurb advent 2023 #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #43: Everything’s Different Now

Masterlist

content: vampire whumper (past), recovery, known whumpee a lil bit, begging, forced medical treatment, needles, panic attack, forced to endure trigger

takes place a few days after Home.

-

Jim anxiously jiggled his leg in the waiting room. Every few seconds, he glanced to the side to make sure Liz was still sitting next to him.

It’s okay. It’s daytime. He can’t get you while the sun’s out, Jim tried to tell himself, but it didn’t feel real. It hadn’t felt real since the moment he stepped out of Kane’s house. He felt like any second, he would wake up back home, just like he’d done every day for the past five years.

Kane’s fucking mini-mansion is not your home, he chastised himself. You’re home now.

“Mommy, that’s the man from TV!”

Jim looked up to see a kid pointing right at him. The kid’s mom looked startled to see him, and a little embarrassed. “Don’t point, sweetie, it’s rude.” she chastised. “So sorry about that.” She said apologetically, but she wouldn’t stop staring. “God bless you.”

“It’s cool.” he dismissed, giving the kid an awkward wave and sinking further into the chair. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, being recognized from the news. It was kind of cool, maybe? But also... weird. Liz reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Mr. Lieberman?” called a nurse.

Jim stood up instantly, relieved to have an excuse to put those thoughts aside. Liz held his hand as they followed the nurse to one of the rooms.

They both sat down as the nurse began checking his vitals. Jim tried his best not to flinch away. He was still getting re-used to the idea that touch doesn’t mean pain.

“Hm, looks like you have a slight fever.” the nurse informed him.

“Oh.”

“The doctor should be in shortly.” She gave him a friendly smile, then left.

“This is so damn weird.” Jim muttered.

Liz got up and leaned against the wall by him. “What? Going to the doctor?”

“Yeah.” Everything about being back in the real world was weird. There were so many people, and they were all just... normal and nice. “I dunno, I haven’t really thought about going to the doctor as, like, an option in a while. I’ve been Kane’s for... almost a quarter of my life. It’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“You’ll get used to it. Means you still spent more than three quarters out.” She patted him on the back.

The doctor came in shortly after. “Jim, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Dr. Augury. How are you feeling?”

“Um, I’m feeling alright.” he replied.

“Good, good. I understand you’re coming to me about several issues after your ordeal. I’d like to take a look at your back, first things first. The records from the hospital indicated you’re at high risk for Lyme.”

“Oh, yeah. Those damn ticks were all over me.” Jim pulled his shirt over his head.

Liz gasped. “Jim...”

“Yep, that’d be Lyme. Multiple sites. That explains the fever. I’ll write you a prescription for some antibiotics and it should clear up no problem. You’ll make a follow-up appointment up front.” The doctor wrote something down while Jim put his shirt back on, then returned.

“Thanks, doc.” He’d have to check his back out in the mirror later.

“What’s next on the list?” the doctor asked.

“So, um, I’ve got... the neck, obviously.” Jim glanced at Liz. He hadn’t brought it up yet, but she had a few new scars herself: most notably, four claw-like marks running down her jaw. He knew hers were from vampires, just like his. He didn’t think he could bear to hear about vampires hurting his baby sister.

“Yes, I see. Is it giving you any troubles?”

“Yeah, actually.” Jim admitted. “Kinda thought it would go away, and like, it’s definitely faded a little, but it’s still there. And not just that... is there anything you could do to make it like, go away? Clear up or whatever?”

“I would recommend over the counter pain relief for the ache, we can reevaluate in a month if it still hurts. As for the scar... this vampire, it bit you on a daily basis?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah.”

The doctor looked at him sadly. “You have to understand that’s years of repeated trauma, reopening the same wound every single day. I can refer you to a specialist, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think the chances of this being able to be removed are high. I’m sorry.”

“I’d like the referral anyway, if that’s alright.” Jim requested.

“Of course.”

“And, um, my arm.” Jim held it up, showing off the unnatural bump under the skin. “He- I broke it a couple years ago and it healed all messed up. Still kinda hurts too.”

“I’ll refer you to a surgeon for that. He can get you some x-rays and fix the malunion. That I’m much more confident can be fixed.” the doctor said. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss today?”

“Um, I don’t think so?” He shrugged.

“Alright, I’d just like to get a blood sample. Given the consistent blood loss over the past five years, it’s best to make sure everything’s going on alright in there.”

Jim froze. “I think... I’ll pass.”

“Jim, you should do it.” Liz encouraged. “It’d suck if something’s wrong with your blood and we didn’t catch it.”

“Nothing’s wrong with my blood.” Jim protested, unable to keep the tinge of defensiveness out of his voice. Kane certainly never thought there was anything wrong with his blood.

“I’d really recommend getting a blood sample.” the doctor interrupted. “It’s just going to be a little prick, that’s all.”

Head wrenched to the side, fangs sinking into his neck.

“No thanks.” Jim said firmly.

“Jim, c’mon. Please?” Liz’s brows bunched up in concern. “I’m worried about you.”

He sighed. He really didn’t want to do this. He was so fucking tired of having his blood taken. But alarm bells rang in his head: protesting was bad. He was being disobedient, and disobedience will always be punished, and he was so damn tired of being beaten. He knew Kane wasn’t here, but that nagging in the back of his mind scared him. He could behave.

“Okay.” he conceded.

“This will take less than a minute.” The doctor assured as he began preparing the syringe.

Liz stepped over. “Want me to hold your hand?”

Jim searched her words for a trace of mocking, but there was none.

“Yeah.” He felt pathetic, needing his little sister to hold his hand just to get his blood drawn when he was 24 years old. He’d done the same for her when they were kids, but he was surely too old for that now.

Liz took his hand in hers. “It’ll be okay.”

Jim’s eyes followed the doctor as he prepared the syringe. That’s going into me, and it’s going to take my blood. He shivered at the thought, squeezing Liz’s hand.

The doctor was saying something, but as the needle went in his arm, all he could see was Kane.

At first, he went still. It’s feeding time, and he has to be still and obedient during feeding. But then he remembers: he was out. He spent all that effort getting out, he almost died getting out, and now he’s back to being fed on.

He knew it was misbehavior, but the despair at his situation was just so powerful that he had to get away. Jim thrashed, but hands held him down as he cried over the urgent voices around him. “Please, no! I don’t wanna be food anymore! I was out! Please, Kane, sir, please stop!”

“Jim, it’s okay!” Strong hands held him firmly in place as his blood was taken from him again and again and again. “You’re not food, you’re a person, it’s just a blood draw! It’s almost over, just relax.” 

The doctor retreated with the syringe. Jim was vaguely aware of Liz asking him to give them space, and then the door was closed again, and he was alone with Liz, still holding him down. “Please, please, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face.

Liz let go. As soon as his arms were free, Jim wrapped them around himself, shivering.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.” Liz said. “The needle was already in you, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Needle...” Jim looked down at his arm, at the band-aid that had made its way there. He hadn’t used a band-aid in years. Kane always just stopped the bleeding himself. “He’s not here.”

“No. The vampire isn’t here.” Liz agreed. “You’re safe. We’re at the doctor’s, remember?”

He nodded slowly, feeling sick to his stomach. “I’m sorry f-for being disobedient. Please don’t punish me. I’ll be better.”

Liz was crying now, too. “No one’s gonna hurt you, Jim.” she assured, hugging him. “No punishing. You’re not... disobedient, you just freaked out. There’s no one to- disobey anymore, right? You’re free.”

“Right. Right, yeah.” Jim shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “S’just weird. Everything’s different now.”

“Yeah.” Liz was looking at him weirdly, like she was seeing him for the first time. “It is.”

-

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#kane and jim #whump #my writing #vampire whumper #begging #recovery whump #known whumpee #needles #whump writing

[falsemortal]

Pond 🎣

// written by the lovely @abbochan , art by me

Travis let the evening get away from him as he fished alone at the old pond on the Hackett property. It was a well hidden spot far into the woods and over the last few years, it had mostly been reclaimed by nature. Travis had only been coming back in recent months, re-marking old footpaths and clearing away most of the overgrown plant life. The large pond was tucked away in a pocket of the forest where it was rarely ever disturbed and Travis held it very close to his heart, sometimes feeling as though it was his last bastion of peace during those six years of his family’s curse. So often would he escape into these woods much like a wolf himself, feeling like the only man on earth, tarnished from his own war and yet hellbent on winning it. 

The sun was nearly about to fall behind the horizon and Travis sighed deeply, his hands tightening around the handle of his fishing rod before they slid up to reel in his line, deftly working as his gaze flicked over the ripples in the water, the amber light refracting on it like tiny, shimmering crystals. He heard a few footsteps in the trees behind him and only turned to see his company when he heard the thump of shoes on the old wooden dock. 

“I knew I should have checked here first.” Laura says with a small smile. The escaping glow of the sun catches her face just right, her blue eyes dancing like the tip of a flame and Travis swallows thickly when she sits down beside him, leaving little room for argument. “I went to the lake first and then the orchard,” She says, gesturing with either hand. “But I know this is where you’ve been coming to be alone, alone so I guess I’m sorry for kinda crashing.” She says with an apologetic look.

Travis shakes his head and the corner of his mouth turns up just a bit. “It’s okay,” He says. “I should've left you a note ‘cause I didn’t bring my phone down with me, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Laura says, poking him in the shoulder. “I saw it on the counter and rolled my eyes so far into the back of my head, I could see my damn brain.” 

Travis laughs and apologizes again before sending his line back into the water, even more content now that Laura had joined him. 

“Snag anything exciting?” She asks, looking up at him with one eye squinted from the last minutes of the sun. 

Travis feels his face warm and he clears his throat, suddenly feeling like he had a bird in his guts, flipping and fluttering around. “Just the usual suspects.” He responds. “A few bass and a couple of catfish.” He looks down at her and reels in the line before putting the rod between the two of them. “Wanna go for a round?” 

Laura beams up at him and takes it from his grasp, repositioning herself so she was more comfortable. “First cast.” She says with a grin. “I’ll hit.” 

Travis feigns skepticism and jokingly rolls his eyes, his tongue striking the roof of his mouth. “Always so damn cocky.” He says while shaking his head. 

“Hey, don't get mad when the student surpasses the mentor.” Laura shrugs with a smile before whipping the line out onto the pond. 

True to her word, Laura nailed a bass within two minutes and a friendly competition formed between them as they began to pass the rod back and forth. The light had faded and fireflies began to hover over the water, the glare of the moon reflecting against it like a dark mirror and Travis knew it was almost time to call it a night. He looked over to Laura who was gazing up at the stars and he watched her shiver while running her hands up and down her bare arms. He deftly placed the rod on the dock and shrugged off his flannel, passing it to her without a word. 

Laura smiles sweetly when she notices his gesture and turns a bit to the side so Travis can drape it over her shoulders. 

“Has anyone ever told you how sweet you are, Travis?” She asks, her cheeks becoming rosy from the cold. 

He pretends to think for a moment before smiling softly. “Yeah, I’ve heard that once or twice from a girl I know.” 

“Well she sounds pretty cool.” Laura says, her impossibly blue eyes pin him to his spot, her smile strikes him down like it's merely a sin to behold her and Travis swallows the stone in his throat. 

“She’s ‘bout the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He says softly. “And I don’t ever wanna take her for granted…” Travis’ mouth works into a frown and he sighs lightly. “I already made that mistake once and she forgave me.” 

Laura reaches up and her hand finds his jaw, stroking his stubble with her thumb and Travis leans into her touch. “Well…” She says before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “She also knows that you’re a good man and that you deserve grace.”

His eyes slide closed as Laura continues to comfort him: “And she also knows that even good men like you, Travis, can make mistakes.” He feels her lean into his shoulder, her cheek nuzzling into the sleeve of his shirt. “But I don’t know a single man that would spend his every waking hour trying to right his wrongs. I don’t know a single man with a will as strong as yours, Travis.” 

“And I got nothin’ to show for it…” He mutters. Travis opens his eyes and looks over the water, the reflection of the moon dancing upon the ripples and he feels Laura lift her head and could feel her eyes on him. 

“You got your freedom.” She says plainly, like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. “And now we get to make up for all that time you lost.” Laura smiles at him and Travis can’t help but smile back but he knows there’s a sadness laced within it. 

“I don’t really remember the man I was before the curse.” Travis admits. 

Laura’s eyes snare him again as they soften, the moonlight hovering above her like a halo of light. “Well,” She says softly. “I can’t wait to get to know him.”

#travis x laura #hackearney ficlets #hackearney #travis hackett x laura kearney