#like what even truly is the plot of this game. it’s kind of hard to sum it up

[hiddenlife-manager]

I CANT STOP THINKING OF SMUT FIC IDEAS

ok hear me out lando and the reader are kind of like sneaky links and lando gets back to monaco and texts the reader “can i sleep over” and then the reader says yes. And then when lando gets to her house their kind of flirty but the reader is playing hard to get and instead of bringing him to her bedroom she just says the guest rooms clean and then closes her bedroom door on him lol. but then in the middle of the night lando comes into her room and is like “i can’t sleep” and then the reader gives in and they fuckkk

Lando Norris X Fem Reader

cw… pussy rubbing, teasing, slight plot, not edited, dom lando, hella confident lando, FWB, creampie, emotions, wall sex, quick and hard, etc...

notepad… YALL I love this one def was last minute. I was so busy today. But still I won't be taking request until I finish what I have. So my request will be temporary for some time. I hope ya'll don't mind just trying to finish what I have for everyone.

You looked at the phone quietly, unsure of how to respond. It has been some time since you saw Lando, and you needed him badly. But you also knew that coming straight up and saying that you needed him would cause him to bully you hard. You two were not in a relationship; you knew that, and he knew that, yet you two constantly fucked with no strings attached.

“Fine.” You found yourself texting back, clearly trying to hide the excitement you held for him to come over. You knew what you two would end up doing; you wanted him to wait; you wanted him to think that you two were friends and nothing more; and your desire for him was truly nonexistent, even if in your head you desired him with all your heart. 

Minutes passed, anxious for his arrival, until finally Lando knocked at your door to your large apartment. You rapidly got up from the couch, ignoring the fact that minutes ago your leg bounced, waiting for his arrival. You walked to the door and smiled, seeing his smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in.

“Hey beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaning down to kiss your lips right as he was about to reach your plush lips. You moved your head, causing him to kiss your collarbone. You smiled; you wanted him to need you desperately. 

“Welcome back to Monaco, Lando.” You walked into your apartment, and he followed suit, still left stunned at your actions. He sat down on your couch, his legs opening while he tapped at his thighs. You sat on his thighs, and he held you close. 

“Now what was that? Hiding something beautiful?” He grabbed your chin, making you look at him, and shrugged innocently.

“What do you mean? I am not hiding anything.” You giggled out, his sigh being heard right next to you. Clearly, he is still unaware of your plans, and you smiled. The entire night, you were on his lap, rubbing his cock, flirting with him, and avoiding his kisses. You were leading him until it was finally time to go to sleep. 

“Your room, like always?” He questioned you, holding your hands tight around your waist. You knew he was hard, and you had to play him like a fiddle. 

“You said you were staying over; take the guest bedroom. I need my bed for myself.” You got off his lap and walked off while he watched you walk off. He groaned his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing and swallowing his saliva. He needed you, and you were playing a stupid game.

You made it to your room, shutting the door and smirking, your body leaning against the door. You were getting what you wanted. You two were friends with benefits; of course you wanted to play with him; he played with you; it was only fair you did the same. You walked through your room, stripping your clothes off to put on your pajamas, until you heard the door opening behind you. You tried to cover yourself with your robes after seeing Lando walk in. 

“Can’t sleep.” He smirked, raising his hands up as if you were holding a gun to him. His eyes scanned your body, which made him fucking insane. 

“Bullshit I just left; I bet you haven’t even stepped foot in my guest bedroom.” He shrugged, walking over to you, his hands laid down on your hips. 

“Guilty as charged.” He looked at you; his hands grabbed your face and forcefully kissed you. Your eyes were left wide in shock. The two of you fell onto your bed. He desired this kiss more than anything. He groaned into the kiss, his hands lowering down to your robes, taking it off your shoulder. "Beautiful, you had your fun; now it is my turn.” 

His hands traveled down to your legs, opening them to see your soaking cunt. He placed his fingers on his lips, sucking them and taking it out of his mouth with a pop. He placed his warm fingers on your clit causing you to react with a quick gasp. His fingers make circular figures slowly on your needy clitoral area. 

“No matter how much you hide it, you want me.” He rubbed your clit slowly and eventually raised the pace. You tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to show him your desire, but your cunt showed a different story. Soaking wet from his kiss and his touch. You were unaware he was going to fuck you. He heard you finally slip moans out, and he stopped, shaking his head.

He pulled your legs to him out of pure instinct; your legs wrapped around his waist when he picked you up. He pressed you against the wall next to your bed. 

“You said you wanted your bed for yourself. So I’ll grant you that wish, beautiful.” With his one hand not holding you, he unzipped his pants. His hard cock coming out was clearly ready to fuck you from your teasing minutes ago. He shoved his cock into your cunt, and immediately grunts could be heard from him. His head is in the nook of your collarbone and neck. Your shock at his entering you made you much tighter. 

“Lan~” You moaned, head back to the wall he was pressing you up against. You felt your body bounce on his cock, moving your ass up and down. You grabbed onto his neck tightly, gently scratching at the top part of his back. The pleasure becomes too much. It seemed to be minutes before his cock slammed into your soaking cunt. Your back against the wall clearly gets a slight burn from the bouncing, so you choose to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. His mouth gently bit into your collarbone, fucking you faster. 

His pace quickened, feeling his cock twitch inside your tight pussy. This position and your pussy made him go feral. You asked for it while playing this game. If you let him fuck you the moment he arrived, you two would have been making love, and right now he is simply fucking you as if you were his. With each thrust, he slowly got to the realization that he desired to fuck you every day, not just any time he was back home. He needed you to be around him all day; he wanted to hear your laugh and be the focus of your teasing. 

“Fuck ‘bout to make me cum!” He moaned next to you, pressing you harder against the wall and slamming his cock into your pussy faster than before. You were left moaning, a smile present on your face, holding him tighter than ever. You were clearly winded by him moaning and saying his name loudly. That was until you felt yourself close to climaxing. You moaned out, telling him so, and he smirked, kissing your lips to shut you up. At last, his final thrust came in, and he felt his legs get weak from the feeling. He groaned into the kiss, still thrusting in your spasming pussy cumming from being filled up by him. “Beautiful, how about I stay the night?” He knew what he wanted, and now he wanted you.

[goldensunset]

amazing job guys

[dungeonpuppykai]

|| Shackles of Love ||

Summary: Your husband Pete reads the epilogue of the book you're on and there's only one way to keep him from spoiling it for you now… 

Pairing: Dark Husband!Pete Brenner | Naive Wife!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Pete Brenner. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft-dark!Pete Brenner, non-con/dub-con elements, boob play, humping, stockholm syndrome, age-gap, m!dom, f!sub, power imbalance, housewife kink, misogyny, bondage/chaining, brainwashing, choking, teeny bit of overstimulation. 

Note: I contemplated whether to make this dark or not but then said what the hell?! Shorter than usual (I think) because it's been a hot minute.

MASTERLIST

"Aw, thank you, baby." Pete flashed you the million dollar smile that had charmed you so much the first time you saw it that it had directly led to this very moment. 

"Honey~" you sweetly called out to your loving husband in that one tone he adored so much that he preferred you spoke to him in it all the time. "Here~" you held out the mini tray containing a chilled beer and loaded sandwich for him to snack on while he watched some old movie that you were frankly too young to know anything about.

You smiled and turned on your heels to place yourself next to him on the couch that faced the tv, feeling a tiny butterfly flutter in the base of your tummy due to how he patted the spot beside him for you to sit in that dominant way of his. The man could literally so much as breathe and have your whole stomach flip. He had you whipped. 

Not much interested in the rather vintage movie, you turned to your book that you had bookmarked before leaving to make your husband a sandwich because he liked a snack or two with his movies. Your fingers hurriedly turned the pages as you found your chapter, bottom lip moving itself between your teeth in excitement. You had been perfectly engrossed in a particularly thrilling part where a plot twist was unfolding when your husband had ordered- no, requested his craving. 

Why would Pete ever order you outside the bedroom? Pfft, no way. He was a very giving and kind husband who would never disrespect you!

Yes, maybe sometimes he was just a little mean during punishments but it was never not duly deserved. 

It wasn't unfair. Not by a long shot. Pete worked hard for the both of you and your future family throughout the week so you could stay at home in pretty dresses and do whatever you pleased. Your only jobs were to cook, clean and take care of his husbandly needs. 

And that was all!

You weren't the one who had to go out into the scary outside world and deal with all those dangerous people that lurked past the protective doors of your house! Honestly, if it weren't for Pete being such a supportive and devoted husband, you didn't know where you would be right now.  

You would be cold, alone and miserable with no one to protect you. His words from training time faintly rang in your ears.

Pete was right. 

He always was. 

Your love was the only one who meant you no harm and could keep you safe. 

Everyone else had already failed you or eventually would. Even your parents. Because seriously, what guardian is so careless as to take their child to baseball games where the ball could crack your skull open anytime! Honestly, how careless could your father be! Your mother was no different because, what kind of a woman encourages her daughter to have a career instead of teaching her the much needed and important domestic skills so she could keep her future family happy and healthy! Making you risk your precious life by letting you persue a career in law out of all! 

If this wasn't the prime example of the fact that no one except for Pete truly cared about your comfort and safety, you didn't know what was. 

Yes, so what if he had roofied your drink in the bar before taking you to your real home with him? He had only meant well! You had been far too headstrong and stupid a girl back then to know proper manners for someone your gender. But Pete had been very kind. Though you had fought relentlessly in the beginning and attempted to escape the premises of this house that was nothing but love and care, he forgave you for everything! 

How much more wonderful could this man get?! 

Your husband had smiled at every insult, laughed at every injury you had inflicted on his skin and heart, kissed away every tear you had so foolishly shed. 

And then he had taught you proper wife etiquette. 

Honestly, no one had ever bothered to put up with you that much. 

"Honey?" Pete called out to you in a semi-distracted tone, blue eyes still trained on the tv as you stared at the pages in front of you with wide eyes as a realization washed over you. But before you could communicate your thoughts like you had been taught to do so, your husband continued. You hummed for him to go on, mind still stuck on the page. "Want to know something real funny?" 

Obedience had been woven into every fiber of your existence. So you turned your head to look at him with curious eyes after making a mental note to tell him what you had realized just now later. Because Pete always came first. So you had to await your turn.

"Funny?" You tilted your head to the side, one arm looping around his arm as you perched your chin on his shoulder. "Sure, dear! I like funny…" Your nose crinkled a little as you smiled in the way he had taught you. 

A devious smile spread over your husband's lips. "I read the epilogue while you were in the kitchen" it took you a few moments to realize what he was hinting at. He had done it before and the way he finally turned his head to look at you with mischief dancing in his ocean blue eyes, placing the now empty tray on the table in front of the couch, you knew he was about to do it again. 

"No! You didn't!" You squealed as he laughed in the comic typical evil way, tackling you until your back was flat against the couch. "No! Please, honey! No!" You helplessly whined as you shook your head violently, tossing the book open and hurrying through the words. "I am almost at the epilogue! You cannot do this to me!" 

"That's just a shame, isn't it?" The protestant kicking of your feet that rested on his back now caused a clinking sound in the air due to the thick iron cuff enclasped around one of your ankles.

"Noooo! Pleeeeease!" You pouted as his goatee gently pricked your fingertips that were pressing against his mouth in a desperate attempt to quieten him. "Honey, please! I've been a good girl!" That was the reason why you had maintained your reading privileges for three straight weeks at this point. "You're being cruel for no reason!" 

"Aw. Don't you remember?" Prying your fingers off his mouth was no challenge to the older man. "Husbands can do whatever they want whenever they want…" You whined loudly as you ignored the tingle in your nether regions that his dark tone had caused, flipping the page and hurrying through the words, holding the book between your faces. "Okay, soooo… what happens is–"

"Ohmygosh you're so meeeean!" Now your free hand desperately darted to your own body before you fished out one of your boobs from the neckline of your dress. A whimper escaped from your lips when you reached for Pete's nape next before arching your back to further close the gap between your bodies. The action clasped the space of your husband's mouth shut as he hummed against your tender flesh now. 

Pete had this rather mean way (that you didn't actually mind) of torturing you when you were reading sometimes. He would sneakily read from a section way ahead of where you were and then tease you with spoilers until you shoved his mouth with one of your private parts. 

You faintly recalled being heavily opposed to it at one point.

But there was no other way to stop him when he was at this. 

And that was alright because he was your husband who loved you and loved him.

… Right?

"Hmmm~" you softly moaned in the way he liked. His clothed dick instantly stiffened under your pussy like it always did; a confirmation that you had done the right thing. Your hips that were not as securely clad as your husband's began to slowly piston against his crotch, the dress being the only cover for your bottom since you weren't allowed underwear inside the house. Pete liked you accessible 24/7. So he could bend you whenever he pleased over any surface with no hassle. 

It was the least you could do after all that he did for you. 

Your legs tightened around Pete's waist as did his arms around yours. It was crazy to you how easy it was for him to handle your body however he desired since he physically looked more on the lean side. But his strength was no joke, you were nothing but a doll between his fingers.

And the reminder always made your wifey parts quiver. 

"Hmmm… my perfect wife~" Pete's husky grunt caused your holes to clench around empty air as he latched onto your other boob that you had pushed out next. "Such a good slut… knows exactly what I like…" Your brows were furrowed and hands shaky, breaths hitting the paper that you struggled to both hold and read without dropping it on your face. "It's almost as if-" a loud sucking noise erupted in the air when he forcefully pulled his mouth away from your hardened nub, the feeling causing your back to arch as your hips increased their pace. "-As if you were only born so you could be my good little wife, huh baby?" His slightly rough hands were manly and strong against the soft skin of your chest, lips and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin while the goatee caused the tickles that never failed to tip you over the edge. 

"B- Because I was, hubby!" You whimpered submissively as you failed all your attempts to make sense of the words in front of you. Pete had already told you why this was and he was right. 

You were far too simple minded to multitask. 

"What was that?" As his hips started to work against yours, the soft burn of the expensive fabric of your dress rubbing against your throbbing and leaking pussy caused tiny droplets of sweat to form on your temples. The book fell from your hands and on the ground besides the couch at last. 

"I- I was only born s- so I could be your good little wife, hubby!" You cried out as you attempted to sink your nails in his shoulders but your husband beat you to it. 

"That's fuckin' right…" Pete's breaths were heavy as he reached for the chain that connected to your ankle cuff and pulled it upwards. It was locked around a sturdy hook hidden under the living room couch on the other end. Long enough to allow you to move around the house to perform your wifely tasks but not an inch longer to entertain any funny or rebellious– dangerous attempts that could be made while he was out earning your bread and butter. Only Pete had the key that could unlock it. 

You whined loudly when he deprived you from touching him while exposing your aching core in an even more intimate position at the same time by snaking the chain around your wrists and holding both your hands as well as your shackled ankle above your head. 

The new position further distanced your pussy lips as you rubbed your swollen flesh against the soft material of his trousers now, your dress a wrinkled mess in the middle of your body. 

"Mmm… I need you so bad, hubby…" You whispered out, throat dry and face twisted in need and want. "Please…" 

"Do you deserve it, huh baby?" Now he laid out some of the cold chain against your throat with his free hand, lips parted and eyes dark. "Have you been a good wife for me?" 

You vigorously nodded, clenching around air once more as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he applied pressure to the makeshift leash against your windpipe, the loss of air and realization of the imbalance of power causing you to pant and hump the man harder. 

Pete could do to you literally anything that he desired and you would happily let him just to please him. 

That was your only priority after all; your real duty.

"You're gonna have to use your words, honey…" Your husband released your windpipe as he spoke, causing your back to arch once more to try and breathe better. 

"I… I…. deserve it, hubby. I really do… I've been s- so good… I promise…" Your chest rose and fell as it glistened under the lights due to the tiny beads of sweat coating it along with Pete's saliva. "I- I deserve you~" your last word was a gasp against his lips that he finally smashed against yours, chaining down your windpipe again as he helped stimulate your worked up pussy by moving his own hips in sync to yours. 

You were too close. It was dangerous. You had to break away and ask his permission if you didn't want to get punished. Cumming without Pete's permission was always followed by cruel edging that stretched on for weeks. Your husband was a master at taking you high to the point of utter dumbness only to leave you deprived and trembling at the last moment.

But you liked to kiss him so much…

That and you didn't want him to feel like you were prioritizing your pleasure over kissing him.

That would be such a selfish thing to do!

And good wives were supposed to be giving, understanding, patient and supportive.

It was a dilemma.

But as always, your knight came to your rescue and you knew you could never love him more than you did in this moment. "Cum for me and I'll consider…" It was like he could read your body and boy did you adore him for it.

Your air came back -or rather, was allowed to do so- just as fast as your vision went out when your tense insides finally bloomed open and went crashing over you the barrage of pleasure that had been building up inside of you. You moaned Pete's name along with heartfelt praises as you trembled, hips slowing down to avoid overstimulation as you blinked away the stars in your vision.

Rubbing and humping definitely had their own kinds of orgasms. 

"Atta girl… That's it… Just like that…" Your husband whispered in your ear, his still clothed cock now rock hard against your worked up pussy. "Good girl…" Though he still kept a firm hold on your ankle and wrists, Pete let go of the makeshift leash to reach for your marked boobs that he began to caress. "You feel that, baby?" A soft whine pushed past the pout that formed on your lips. "This is what you do to me…" His voice was strained as he held back a moan, his stiff crotch teasing you now as he let go of your breasts to open his fly.

It was then that it suddenly occurred to you. 

And though you knew from ample experience that it was never pleasant… you had to do the right thing. 

You owed it to your perfect husband. 

"U- Uh, honey…" You hissed out softly, trying to move your hips away from the torturous humping he was still subjecting you to. When Pete didn't respond, you tried again, only this time more timid because you knew too well how he responded to denial and rejection. "D- Darling…"

His nostrils flared as he exhaled loudly in annoyance. "What?" Your bottom lip wobbled at his snappish tone. 

The man of the house did not like to be delayed when he wished to wreck his lady apart. 

"I- I need to tell you s- something…" Pete gave up fiddling with the fly, looking up at you now. 

"And it can't wait?" Your eyes stung when he refused to mend his tone but you told yourself it was because he wanted you so bad that he didn't want anything to come between you two. 

Yes, that was it.

The truth. 

Pete had told you this many times. 

"I- I don't think you would like it…" Averting your gaze from his heated one and training it on his neck, you whimpered out your next words because of how his body had suddenly stiffened against yours. "I- I…" You bit your lip, already heightened heart rate refusing to slow down. Pete appreciated it when you were honest about this, you didn't understand why it was making you feel so panicked and sad.

Hopeless. 

"D- Dangerous memories have been r- resurfacing again…" His tone and expression instantly changed after hearing this. They were darker but less rude now. 

"Oh…" Pete stopped for a few moments to recollect himself. "F- For how long, baby?" 

"D- Dunno… didn't really notice it until I remembered a whole episode from my time in court in the m- morning…" You couldn't help but whimper when you looked back up at him. 

He seemed almost dumbfounded for a second before he spoke. "I see, honey…" Stopping for a few moments, Pete let go of your chains to caress your hair lovingly. "... And… What do we do when that happens, baby?" Your husband's voice was barely above a whisper as he peeked up at you with skeptical eyes. 

"W- We have to go downstairs to fix it so the dangerous memories cannot form any silly ideas in my simple baby mind, hubby…" The man's worried expression changed to one of surprise.  

And then the biggest smile made its way on his handsome face. 

"Aren't the most perfect little girl, huh?" You couldn't help but blush and relax when he went back to being nice.

Disappointed and angry Pete was one you preferred to avoid at all costs. 

"I just love you, hubby…" It came out the way the man had programmed you to say it before you gently pressed your mouth to his. "Wanna please you and make you happy…" Your husband pulled at one of your cheeks lovingly before he peppered soft kisses around your nose, making you giggle from how his goatee tickled your skin. 

"So, then… shall we?" The older looked almost proud and smug as he crawled off of you and undid your ankle cuff, softly caressing the slightly red skin before he offered you a hand to sit up. 

You smiled as you pushed away a rather unfamiliar stinging in your chest, focusing on the man in front of you instead as you took his hand and stood up, naively following him out of the living room and into the basement, hand in hand with your fingers intertwined.

Pete smirked to himself darkly as he turned the dial of the combination lock on the door of the basement cell before opening it for you to step in. He could still remember the time when you used to push all of your faculties to try and override the lock system somehow. 

All that fight to get out only to voluntarily step in with a smile now. 

You were definitely Pete's Magnum opus.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Vil+Purple lilac? :))

Vil Schoenheit: 

Purple Lilac - love at first sight. 

This was what Vil would define as a poorly defined twist.

It simply didn’t fit his character. Overall, he was the person who people fell in love with at first sight, tripping over themselves at the beauty and power that radiated off of him in waves. He stood tall and proud, a flirtatious smile for the fans, a teasing remark for the questioning paparazzi, he knew how to play the game and play it well. It was hard, near impossible, to get one over on him and even his fans with all their knowledge of him, his life, and his interests, never managed to throw him off-balance, not even once.

“You looked super cool as that detective’s assistant!”

He had to wrack his brain to even remember the film you were mentioning, some passion project that he had joined because his father was good friends with the director and they needed someone to fill in a secondary role. Vil hadn’t minded because it meant he wasn’t being typecasted as some villain, hoping to show off his acting chops and prove his range. It was a simple role but he had been a showstopper, the reviews rolling in for months after speaking about how his scenes were the most heavily highlighted among articles and reviewers online. He hadn’t thought about it in a long time because in the end, it had been just another stepping stone; it didn’t do much for his reputation in the long run, showing his skill yet still not allowing him to branch out to other kinds of roles.

“Was it easy to steal attention away from the main detective? He really wasn’t bad but the way you look on screen, and the little subtleties you add to your characters… Like the way you’d mess with your bangs when you were uncomfortable, or the way your character would count off on his fingers every time he got upset—Did you come up with all that yourself?”

“I did.” Vil was proud, chin held up, even happier to know that the little things he had worked on had been noticed by you. His stunning looks and powerful presence were all the reviewers had mentioned, not the little nuances Vil had attempted to add into his character. He could probably listen to you talk all night if he had the chance to but— “What’s your name?”

“O-oh, me? Oh, uh…” You stuttered out your online name to him, the last thing you get to say before he’s ushered off with some fellow actors and models into the premiere of another film he had a role in.

He thinks about you the entire time.

The light in your eyes, the excited way you spoke, passion laced in every word, he could tell you genuinely liked the movie and that it wasn’t just to impress him. In a world of people constantly speaking on his sex appeal it was a relief that his acting and the plot was what you were concerned about, though he hadn’t missed the way you had described him.

Striking.

Just like you were.

He discreetly peaked at his phone, typing your name quickly into Magicam to see where your profile was; you were a film geek for sure, a variety of pictures and reviews revolving around media filling his vision as he scrolled through your account. He took the time to read a few during a slower part of the movie, noting that you were quite thoughtful with considering the human side of even the worst kinds of characters. Near the top is a post about him, not the detective movie but another one where he had essentially played ‘the other woman’, and you had written a very opinionated.

‘In the end, Vil Schoenheit is often forced into the same old roles with a slightly different font. It’s a waste of talent and I, for one, look forward to the day directors realize what a gem he truly is. I hope to see Vil in many different kinds of movies in the future, and I’ll try to be at the premiere of every one of them!’

Vil hit the follow button.

He’d never just followed a person like that, not unless they were someone in his circle or a brand who was looking to add him to their payroll. Even then, if they weren’t products he believed in, there wasn’t a chance he’d even look at them twice, so his follow list was a rather short one… But now you were there.

He hoped he could see you before his next premiere.

[yuurei20]

I would really like to know one thing. Did the novel talk about the effects of blot on normal people without magic? If the plot of the game is to be believed blot can be toxic in any aggregate state to wizards, but what about those without magic? Does blot not harm Yuya?

Hello hello! Thank you for this question, it turned into an unexpected rabbit hole!

The novels do not mention Yuuya suffering any blot-related harm, and this may have something to do with this explanation from Crowley:

"'Well, with Trappola-kun and Spade-kun's magical capacity, I don't think you need to worry too much!'

Looking around at everyone's serious expressions, the headmage suddenly smiles.

'Magical power varies greatly by mage, but blot tolerance is almost universal. Powerful mages must be particularly careful when using magic, but you all may use magic until you are completely tired out, and you will still not suffer that much blot.'

'Then why'd you say that! Rude.' Ace snaps at the headmage, who gives him a thumbs-up as though to say, 'Isn't that nice?'

'Just to be on the safe side. If by any chance something like that were to happen at the school, and during an official duel, I would be held accountable as headmage for not exercising adequate supervision. So please, please be careful!'"

-Twisted Wonderland the first novel

If blot is truly a non-issue for weaker mages like Ace and Deuce, it seems like it would be even less of a concern for a non-mage like Yuuya.

I am not sure we have any examples of him touching someone else's blot, or what kind of consequences there might be to doing so! All we know is that it seems unlikely, if not impossible, for Yuuya to generate his own.

But there's more!

We learn in Book 6 that STYX intentionally hires people with small magic pools because they are "less likely to go out of control from blot exposure," so it seems that "the more powerful the mage, the greater the blot damage" rule applies in both the novel and the game.

But the technician's full line is, "Most of us working at STYX aren't mages. They hire people with small magic pools," and this phrasing has always interested me. Does he mean that most of them are non-mages, and the few mages they do hire are limited to those with small magic pools?

Or is he insinuating that non-mages also have magic pools--they are just too small to generate magic? Does everyone technically have a magic pool in this universe? Do "magic-pool-less" people not exist? It is curious!

Deuce says that there is a rumor that "magical potential is determined at birth," so a person's risk of overblotting might not be something that they are able control.

But Malleus says, "Magic is all about familiarity. The more you use it, the better you get, regardless of your inherent talent for it."

And we may have actually seen this proven, via Riddle.

Riddle says that his mother "went to every possible length to ensure (he'd) be an exceptional mage, starting from when (he) was in the womb."

This is confirmed by Idia, who explains that Riddle's magic pool was artificially increased via special training and hard work.

This seems to debunk Deuce's rumor about magical power limitations being determined at birth.

So can blot harm a non-mage in this universe?

If blot damage is only a risk to mages with large enough pools to use magic, then Yuuya is probably safe from blot. But a lot depends on the meaning behind what that technician said!

If everyone in the Twst universe has magic pools and what makes you a mage is just how big your pool is, and magic pools can be expanded by force (re: Riddle) and by familiarity (re: Malleus), then everyone has the potential to become a powerful mage and, thus, to suffer from blot.

Something like this was hinted at back in Book 5, with a bully who says he dropped out of a magic school but still knows enough magic to drive a blastcycle. He says he isn't a "fancy Night Raven mage," but does he count as a mage at all? Or is he somewhere in between a mage and a magicless due to the limited size of his magic pool?

If everyone in Twst technically has a magic pool and the difference between a mage and a non-mage is just the size of it, it is possible that the prefect, as someone from another world, is the only person there with no magic pool to expand and is thus the only person who is 100% immune to blot.

This is all conjecture based on one line from an unnamed Book 6 background character and is a lot of reaching, but it is fun to think about ^^

[ally-mastercomputer]

Yandere AM is cruel. But what kinds of yanderes would the main 5 be? Who would be safer to be with? (Plot twist it's neither of them/hj)

i love how since you don't know me well, you assume that the very mild version of yandere AM i showed so far is cruel to you.

The Five as yanderes

Ellen (book leaning)

The emotional type.

Ellen is the only one who kept some of her humanity. She still cares about the others. And she cares about you so, so much... All because you've shown her kindness the others don't show her anymore.

No, to the others, she's scum. She's aware of that. She knows they only really bother to take care of her because she let them all use her body. She's accepted that it was her only real value for the rest of the group. Well, maybe except for Benny, Benny was nice to her most of the time.

But you? You felt bad for how the others treated her. You offered her a shoulder to cry on. You offered to hold her, let everything out. And she missed being loved. She missed being cared for and held.

She becomes addicted to it. To you. She wants all of your attention, all of your affection, all of your love.

She'll scream. She'll cry. She'll beg.

She loves you. She needs you.

And she'll do anything in her power to make sure she gets you.

Gorrister (game and book mixed)

The wifebeater violent type.

There's very little left of what Gorrister used to be. A once passionate man who then lost himself, first to how his life turned out and then to that damn computer. He was now heartless, both literally and figuratively.

And yet, it would seem a certain kind of passion was... re-awakened in Gorrister. All because of your sweet self.

You tried so hard to reach inside him again. To try and find the man he once was. You could say you succeded, in a way. A very hurtful way, sadly.

Gorrister was now an angry man with an unhealthy attachment to you. He wanted you all to himself, no matter what he'd have to do to keep the small spark of light in his life.

And if beating you was the only way to get you to work with him? That's what he's gonna do, darling.

Ted (book and game mixed)

The manipulative type.

Ted is an expert at lying and manipulating people for his advantage. Especially now. He's a charmer, really! And you're just so easy for him, so nice, so sweet... He loves it.

He manages to wrap you around his little finger. He'll convince you that he's your knight in shining armor, that he's your only real friend, that you can depend on him, that he'll protect you...

He's your only friend around there, really! The only person you can really trust!

He's possessive and has a tendency to objectify his partners. Especially women. His mind was a truly dark place now, seeing as he barely respected anyone at this rate. You have to listen through his rants about how all the others are affected by AM and how he's the only sane one. He'll insult everyone, you included.

And then he'll gaslight you into thinking he's right and that you're slowly losing your mind because of AM. He's your only true beacon of hope, your only link to sanity.

And you'll do everything for him, won't you?

Benny

The worshiping type.

Poor Benny doesn't really understand love anymore, due to all the damage AM caused to his brain. But he understands all the kindness you've shown him. He knows you were the one who comforted him through all the pain caused by that damn machine.

Especially since you'd try to chase after him and help save him from more pain. You did your best for him, and he took your kindness when he could, his brain warping it into a worship-like obsession.

It starts off innocent. If he managed to find something "nice", he'd bring it to you. He would follow you, seek you out, do anything for your attention to be on him exclusively, even if he had to pull you away from the others and hold you down to cuddle him.

And he's very physically strong. He's not letting go, you're the most important person in his life, after all. The others need to learn that, too. Or he'll use those teeth AM gave him to rip their guts out.

But hey, their hearts would be a great offering for you.

To show just how great his love to you is.

Nimdok

The twó-faced type.

He's an old man who barely remembers anything about his past. You naturally want to help him, don't you? Of course you do, you're such a kind person...

But the truth is, even without his memory, you can never take the cruelty out of a monster. And he worked with doctor Mengele himself, he may not be as bad as the Angel of Death himself, but he's definitely no saint.

For you, though, he's just a poor old man that AM torments alongside the others. But the others...?

Well, he might not remember what he did, but he sure remembers how to be a scary motherfucker and how to form his incredibly detailed, whispered threats to make them all leave you alone. And of course, he will make those threats come true if needed.

You have no clue, of course. You think he's a sweet old man, the only one who's actually nice to you, unlike the others who push you away.

And the others... they get to see his true colors.

[chipchopclipclop]

i have finished death mark 2...... thoughts.....

general thoughts is the overall story was.... BAD. LOL.

I'll start with the good. The interactions between Yashiki and alot of the returning cast i really liked, the writing especially in the first few chapters. An example being alot of Yashiki and Daimon's chatter, especially the whole weight of saving lives things that comes back at the end, alot of it was quite sweet and heartwarming similarly between him and other mark bearer characters.

^^^ BEST CG EVARRRRR....

I liked the choice of Hiroo and Mashita being the two that come in when he's at his lowest, their curtness and refusal to take his attitude was really refreshing, felt really like what he needed at the time lol. In that same vein i enjoyed his characterization alot in the early-mid game, and how it develops. He's such a sensitive guy lollll and it comes through well with how much he cares but near the latter chapters it kind of.... sours.

Though there were a few new characters i liked his interactions with, Abe and Maruhashi specifically i found endearing of the new cast, Alot of them just Die. Or theyre Hime and Michiho AKA the bane of my fucking existence with this game.

They are the two pushed front and center and it is truly its worst aspect, as characters they're shallow personality wise and though you could say that about others in the cast, them being in love with Yashiki on top of it makes it so much worse.

They barely have any scenes where they actually properly interact and feel like they bond at all but for some reason im expected to believe they're suddenly in love with him?? -and in the end they were also dead the whole time, and not even themselves. So it wasn't even real, and somehow any of this is meant to hold any weight to the audience...?? explaining it as the ghosts being desperate for him instead doesnt really make it.. any more compelling (lol the scene at the end where hes like maybe they just wanted those beautiful normal school days they spent by me.... when did that happen yashiki)

I understand Yashiki is probably saddened by the deaths of two young girls but they're treated with so much more weight and gravitas than anyone else in the cast and its so unearned, especially when alot of the other ghosts are somehow way more compelling in that aspect.

He also becomes borderline ooc around them like in what world am i expected to believe he emotionally dumps his burdens on the two highschool girls he barely knows because of how sad he is when hes got like how many other people he knows FROM THE OTHER GAMES he could do that with...????? (AND BASICALLY DOES... ALREADY...?) and it lifts his heart like truly wtf was i reading. HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT.JPG

Chapter six is really where it falls off the cliff with this, after hanging out with Hiroo, Mashita and Yasuoka and solving that case they just dissapear from the narrative for a day so he can......... hang out with michiho...?? i couldn't even enjoy murder yashiki in this game because of how ludicrous it felt that the rest of yashiki's companions just dissapeared to make it happen, and no one calls or anything lmfao. I cant imagine how much more compelled i would have felt if he was dealing with that situation with any of the other three around instead of HIME. LIKE I AM ACTUALLY SO INCENSED ABOUT THIS SCENARIO BEING RUINED SO HARD WHEN IT COULD BE SO GOOD BUT I DIGRESS (RIPPING MY HAIR OUT) (CRYING BC I LOVE BLOOD AND HORROR)

Even the first two games weren't as bad as writing women as this!? EVEN IF I HAD TO SEE MASSIVE TITS ON SCREEN THEY WEREN'T TRYING TO JUMP ON YASHIKI AS WELL AS A CENTRAL PLOT POINT (lol kakuya) congrats exp you have outdone yourself with the misogyny.

To continue on the topic of new characters, it feels like so many of them were given so little screen time to make you actually care about them. For how prominent Abe is he barely actually does anything, and Maruhashi instantly dissapears when shes no longer a red herring. On top of this game basically killing off any other character that appears, its hard to get invested in them as characters at all.

You have no opportunities to actually effect their fate as you do in the other two games, so there's even less attempt to immerse you there. Horikoshi comes the closest behind the other two but its because her case with Hanako was easily the strongest and most resonant of the game (lgbt win). Its not even like this is the first time Yashiki saves the lives of kids and bonds with them after, especially with the caveat of being a teacher, like how did you fuck this premise up so bad.

They either needed to commit to more scenes and writing in general to attach you to the new characters or just not have any returning ones show up so prominently if they're not also going to further interact with them.

The overall mystery suffers for it, and while i like the twist of the doll being helpful in this game actually, it is so easy to guess michiho and hime are the departed, and i already didn't even like them so it doesn't hit at all emotionally. Like, i was not feeling very betrayed or anything lol.

Further critiques -> though running around is very fun, the horror in this game really didn't at all compare to the others with the loss of that first person perspective for alot of the exploration, sad.

I also feel like we got more horny shit than we did in NG which is also like lol one step forwards two steps back. Even the gore wasn't as good............... kind of mid in every regard there. I did like the mushroom and scissor stuff, but the bugs and mold ended up just kind of ..... eh...

Mary continues to be the best antag in these games, she slayed and she continues to keep slaying. The sisters were really kind of a letdown in the end, especially since i think i could have enjoyed it if they pulled them off better.

As for my yaoi cocaine score though thats a 10/10 they made yashiki and mashita meow and hiss like cats in this game for some reason, i genuinely think that shattered my mind a little.

I also can't believe they gave us these two panting in unison asmr as well so you could make your own [REDACTED] if you wanted. The departed getting jealous mashita was standing next to him in that one confrontation too like she's calling him a homewrecker..... lol...... also the part where mashita jokes abt him keeping the gun and if you make yashiki go 'then i will 😇' and him immediately backpedaling like okay i was kidding. give it back. very moe very powerful.

I feel like the entire time mashita was on screen he was basically acting as yashiki's brain to keep him from getting too lost in his emotional attachments, truly everyone needs a bitch wife to keep them sane.

TL:DR this game could be so good (average) if it wasn't so fucking badDDDDDDDDDDDD easily the worst entry in this series...... dont buy it unless its on sale for 4 bucks (this applies to every game) or just watch in on youtube lol.

anyway. beautiful yashiki collection. I CANT BELIEVE MASHITA DIDNT GET A BAD END CG ACTUALLY < / 3 BUT YASHIKI'S IS REALLY GOOD < / 3 SMALL WINS < / 3

[ezdotjpg]

I have a silly little question about your silly little comic!! I love your versions of the Links so much. Loft is such a mood FOR REAL!!

anywho,

How did you come up with the original concept? If this is somewhat spoilery- then don’t answer it. But i’m more so wondering what let you to go

“i want to make a comic about the silly links accidentally breaking and fucking everything up. also trauma lots of trauma”

Did you come to the understanding of, looking at other peoples AU’s? Or was it something in the games itself? I’m just curious on what your thought process was when brainstorming originally yk?

Also, small bonus question/comment thingy

when making backgrounds- like Zelda and Wilds house or Lofts home with Zelda and Groose- did you base the backgrounds on your own ideas of what the characters would live in? Like if they’d have clutter or silly little notes in the background. I love how your backgrounds are just- chefs kiss- so simple but shows us a glimpse into the characters mental state (as all good rooms do *stares at my messy one*)

that is all, i very much so enjoy your comic. it’s gotten me through the bad Wednesdays of highschool. Keep going!!! i am excited to see it’s conclusion.

waugh thank you so much!!!!!

And I guess the answer to that first question is all of them above? Bonus Links is, of course, an extremely derivative work. LU was my first introduction to the links-meet-au format, so I’d be remiss not to give credit where credit is due! Probably many ideas I’ve absorbed from fics I’ve read, and headcanons I vibe with that come from the wider fandom. The idea for Bonus Link’s actual plot though originally started from my fascination with Skyward Sword’s lore. I know not everyone’s a huge fan of how much that game retconned, Demise’s “curse” in particular, but there’s a lot of ideas in that game that I find REALLY interesting, especially in ways that the game doesn’t really acknowledge at all. How would Skyward Sword Link feel, if he found out he truly didn’t finish the job? That the cycle continues on and on beyond him? That was the jumping off point.

Because it’s a cycle, I get a lot of ideas from like, which Links have experienced similar events, and how their experiences compare and contrast. What becomes history, and what actually happened? And I also use a lot of my own experiences playing the games as inspiration! I’d played as many as I had access to when I started the au in 2021, but I’ve made it my mission to play every single game a Link is featured in before they get introduced in the comic lol. Still got a few more to go, but I’m almost there!

As for the second question, absolutely! If I’m showing someone’s home in the comic, I try really hard to add details that tell you something about them. At the very least, I want them to look lived in lol

like, Slate still having the champion’s weapons on display in his house. Zelda’s mostly taken over the first floor as her workshop, even adding a Sheikah tech furnace somehow. She’s filled her room with pictures she’s taken on the walls. She’s got a sand seal plush from Riju, a Sheikah jacket from Impa. Her workspace is a little cluttered!

On the other hand, Slate’s room upstairs looks a little less personal. He’s got some pictures on the wall, and some plants growing from around hyrule (that Zelda has kind of commandeered for research lol) but otherwise he’s left it how Bolson and co furnished it. If anything, it’s mostly just for storage. He doesn’t actually spend much time sleeping here, but Zelda still doesn’t want to take it from him.

Loft, Groose and Zelda’s room is very cozy ( I should have added more blankets. Imagine like 4 times the amount of pillows and blankets) and tidy, but there’s still a little mess— shoes left out, basket of poorly folded clothes, etc. Cute knickknacks, mostly made by loft and groose! It’s not in this sc but groose’s comb is somewhere I think lol

Idk if iced shared this detail before, but Loft put a lot of effort into designing and carving (probably with some assistance) these columns for the house! Even though carving’s hard for him these days. It was his biggest contribution.

anyway, those are some of my thoughts!! I’m so happy to hear you’ve been enjoying the comic! Thanks for reading!!

[andr0medafallen]

Jogan Fruit

A/N: The first smut piece I ever wrote, heavily revised by yours truly.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: porn with plot, oral (female receiving), somewhat irresponsible drinking, drinking games, inappropriate use of the word "crime syndicate" (not sexual, just stupid), biting, dubious consent (somewhat drunk sex, consented to by both parties)

Description: You live your life by the book. Rules are good. Rules like don't have sex with your Commander. A friend's meddling seeks to change that.

Word Count: 3.5k

“We should play a drinking game,” Corr suggested as you waved down the bartender for another round of jet juice. She did this, without fail, every fucking time you agreed to go drinking with her. It’s no one’s fault but your own, though, for continuously befriending adrenaline junky pilots who are more afraid of boredom than alcohol poisoning or embarrassment.

“What are you, five?” You, personally, are afraid of plenty of things other than boredom. And Corrinth’s god-awful drinking games are pretty high up on that list.

“I’m sorry, since when do five year olds play drinking games?” Corr argued, not even giving you her full attention as she sent a wink in the direction of the server setting down your cocktails.

“I bet they do in Mos Espa,” You mumbled, taking a sip from the sugary blue drink which Corr had ordered for you. Corr always ordered all around the spectrum of the rainbow of alcohol, especially when it contained a tiny paradisiacal umbrella in the sea of artificial sweetener. You certainly couldn’t complain, though, especially when it meant that Corr was paying. Spending credits on your behalf seemed to be the only fail-proof way to get you to go out the night before a big mission, and she knew it. Somehow her judgements about how you worked too hard never seemed to convince you to follow in the footsteps of her spontaneous lifestyle, but you loved to see her wasting money, so here you were. 

“Well that felt targeted with a touch of classism.” You sighed at her antics. Why you would ever choose to befriend the only person from Tattoine who actually likes the planet is beyond you. What kind of a masochist do you have to be to genuinely like Tattoine?

“It’s a crime syndicate.” You defended your honor against her attacks, but you knew that she wouldn’t let the argument go until you decided to play a drinking game, of all things. Like a seventeen year old rich kid in Canto Bight whose parents are on vacation and has the house to themselves for the weekend. And to be clear, you don’t mean that endearingly. You mean it in the sort of way that implies that you definitely don’t want to play a drinking game and hate rich kids and Canto Bight.

“It’s like, not even that much of a crime syndicate,” Corr disputed, plucking the sugary preserved jogan fruit off of her drink and popping it into her mouth. You could practically taste the over-sweet syrup, just by looking at it. 

“That doesn’t even make sense, how can something be ‘not that much of a crime syndicate’? It is or it isn’t!”

“Okay, well how can a whole city be a crime syndicate, that’s not how that works,” Corr complained.

“Oh, fuck me, it’s literally run by a crime syndicate, it might as well be.”

“The Hutts don’t even run it any more sooo… you're wrong, I’m right, let's play a drinking game,” She grabbed her drink and started chugging as if planning to throw back a shot in vindication, but for lack of any near, she settled for the next best thing.

“Kriff!” You snatched the drink out of her hand before she could get herself beyond the point that would ensure that you would have to spend the end of the night holding her hair back for her. “Okay, I’ll play your stupid drinking game.”

“Yes! Truth or extreme truth,” she decided, rather quickly.

“Please, for the love of all things holy, do not make me play that,” you backtracked. Why did you ever agree to play her games again? Stars, caring about people is way overrated.

You know, caring about people. Like how you care about Corrinth, even though she is positively insufferable whenever given the option. Or Commander Poe Dameron, who for some reason is walking to your table with that intoxicating confidence that you wish wasn’t deserved. Commander Poe Dameron who you should not at all care about, or who you should at least care about in a normal, professional manner, if at all. Not that many resistance fighters followed that rule, but you liked rules. Rules such as not caring about your Commander. The kind of rules that protected you, even if they did lead to your flood of anxiety at the mere idea of drinking with the man.

“Play what?” He asked, leaning against the dingy bar table that you were sitting at. You’d seen him coming, but you still nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke, dulcet tones voiced right into your ear, a symphony accompanied by the silent echo of his warm breath across your skin. He was wearing his off-duty clothes, linen shirt hugging his biceps, and I’m sure you can use your own imagination about the way his slacks hugged his hips. And the crisp scent that must have been pressed to his pulse point only seemed to set you on edge.

“We’re gonna play truth or extreme truth,” Corr excitedly told him, tossing him one of her winning grins. No one could ever kriffing say no to it. Hell, you could never say no to it.

You crashed your head into your arms on the table in an exaggerated display of annoyance.

“Come off it, Corrinth!” You growled, head raising by the neck just to emphasize your irritation; your desperation to not play this game, especially with Poe.

“Wait wait wait wait–” Poe gestured wildly with the bottle of ambrostine he must have picked up at the bar, as if to signal a pause on the conversation. You guessed that his interruption meant that you hadn’t sufficiently convinced either of them to drop the subject. “What is truth or extreme truth?”

Corr smirked, as if she had been waiting for this question since Dameron stepped foot in your vicinity. Or very possibly since she had planned this kriffing “girls night”. Why Corrinth finds it so absolutely necessary to intervene in your love life when she’s got absolutely no need to live vicariously through anyone is beyond you. She’s got a lovely and fulfilling relationship and she’s got plenty of game, but she only ever seems to be interested in getting you to unearth your secret crush.

It didn’t help that Dameron had to create the perfect setup for Corr to open her mouth and reply, “Fuck around and find out.”

This was problematic for a few reasons. 1, Corr had practically issued him a challenge in bright fucking obvious neon lights to choose extreme truth. And 2, While Poe is not the reckless flyboy that many people seem to think he is, the likelihood that he would turn down this challenge was low. Oh, and there is the fact that extreme truth is just an explicitly sexual truth, and the whole game is honestly just a remarkably uncreative spin on truth or dare, so there’s that too. Needless to say, you were not happy.

The grin which Poe returned shot off so many alarm bells in your head that you thought you might explode. Your eyes met over the table as you stared at him, but you quickly turned away, taking a drink of your ‘Jogan Jumper’. 

“Oh, yay!” Corr turned towards you. “You should go first cause you invented it.” Wow. That was definitely a piece of information that your outranking officer and crush did not need to know. You should have just taught her truth or drink. So much for trying to get out of dares.

You rolled your eyes before bringing your gaze up to Corr. “Corrinth,” You gritted out. “Truth or extreme truth.”

“What?” She chided, playing dumb. “Don’t be rude, it’s Commander Dameron’s first time playing!”

Fuming, you turned to Poe, who looked a little confused but good-spirited. “Truth or extreme truth, Dameron?” You asked, voice dripping with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

He smiled, glancing at Corr who gave him the most mischievous look of encouragement that you have ever seen in your life.

“Extreme truth,” He decided. Wow. What a fucking surprise.  While the rules of the game entitled you to cursing any possibility of friendship with your Commander by asking him a question straight from a holovid title, you deigned instead to turn to Corr and glare at her silently, lips pursed.

“Oh, I have a good one!” She chimed in, twirling a strand of bright blue hair around her finger.

“Let’s hear it,” Poe chuckled. Curse him, for being the type of man who didn’t become a modicum less attractive when intoxicated and covered in a light sheen of sweat. It was pure evil, the way his skin glistened, every curve of his beautiful face emphasized in an unfairly beautiful way.

“Out of all of the people in the room,” she smiled at him, “Who would you most like to fuck?”

His eyes flicked to yours momentarily, before fixing on his drink. Looking back up at Corr with a furrowed brow, he asked, “That’s what extreme truth is? It’s just a truth about sex?” He seemed flustered, his tan cheeks covered in a smattering of pink. You were surprised, if anything. He never seemed like the type to get shy about this sort of thing. Embarrassment seemed to be more your cup of tea, but you supposed that even you were wrong every once in a while.

“He doesn’t have to answer it,” You muttered. You nodded your head at his drink. “Just take a swig.”

“Yeah, you could chicken out,” Corr agreed, before turning to you. “He’s probably just scared that we’ll find out he wants to fuck Borsk the fish boy.”

You folded your arms over your chest, giving Corr your best ‘I’m disappointed in you’ look. “Corr, be nice, Borsk isn’t that bad.”

“Uh, yeah, I think that not that bad constitutes not having sex with fish, but whatever gets you going, I mean, I’m not one to judge.”

Before you could argue that that was just a mean-hearted rumor, Poe interjected, “No, yeah, nothing against Borsk, but I’d fuck Black 3.” He said it quickly, rushing through his words as if his mouth was running a marathon. He didn’t stumble over a single syllable, though; it was as if the words lived on his tongue. As if they belonged there. Your eyes widened. The breath caught in your throat. That was you. That was your callsign, there is no one he could possibly be talking about other than you.

At that earthbending revelation, Corr decided it was a good time to pull out her com, screen completely blank. 

“Oh shit, it’s Eida.” It wasn’t even a good lie. You could clearly see the black screen of the communicator. Poking it to mimic answering couldn’t change the fact that it hadn’t beeped and no one had called her. “Hey babe, everything okay? Oh stars, that’s crazy.” You cringed. If Corr was going to be such a compulsive liar, she should probably take an acting class sometime. She took the comm away from her ear and poked it again, as if it had done anything the first time. “Girlfriend’s in trouble. You know how it is.”

Poe actually managed to seem genuinely concerned. It was honestly kind of endearing how he actually believed her obvious lie. “Everything okay?”

“Her comm is off and her girlfriend is in the engineering bay patching droids. Everything’s fine,” you seethed as Corr cheerfully skipped out of the crowded bar. To his credit, Poe did not seem put off by your rude demeanor. Honestly, you didn’t know what it meant for his mental health that he wasn’t.

Still, when Poe looked at you with those warm brown eyes that held so much more than you were ready for, you couldn’t help yourself. In one of the most impulsive moments of your life, you grabbed his wrist, the way you might to save someone from falling off a cliff; Like you were afraid to let go. Your lips met the same way; tongues intertwined, starved for something not quite comprehensible, but now that you’d found it you wouldn’t give it up for the world. Your hands were grabbing at each other both delicately and desperately.

Maybe you were making an awful mistake. Maybe you were about to do something that you would regret tenfold in the morning. But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care, not when his warm hands were on you and you couldn’t even begin to comprehend a world in which this wasn’t a good idea.

When your lips parted (a miserable moment, softened only by the quiet peace of the way your breaths intertwined), Poe grabbed what was left of his liquid courage and gulped it down quickly, as if it was the only thing in the way of him and you. His eyes met yours as he licked the sweet syrup off of his lips and set the glass down with a quiet thunk. There was a certain amount of finality in the noise, like a decision made for the both of you.

He grabbed your wrist in the same desperate way that you had only moments ago. Sweet eagerness and a darker need were palpable in the air as you nearly jogged to keep up with Poe’s quick strides. You didn’t know where you were going, mind fuzzy in a cocktail of excitement and nerves. It finally clicked when Poe pulled out his keycard and fumbled to get the door to his quarters open. 

Your heart skipped a beat; your stomach was butterflies. When he finally jammed the card into its keyhole to a green light and cheery ‘beep’, you wanted so desperately to be able to take in your surroundings. You were expecting janitorial closet, and instead got a peephole into Poe’s own heart. He slept here; this is where he came home to after hard missions, where he hung posters for the shitty bands he listened to. And this is where he decided to take you.

Still, with the warmth of Poe’s body pressed against you, there was nothing you could possibly focus on other than the feeling of his lips on your neck and his hands on your waist.

Your head fell back against the wall as Poe’s soft lips sucked at the junction between your neck and shoulder. There was no restraint, you could practically picture the bruises that would bloom shades of purple in the morning. Somehow the idea didn’t make you even remotely anxious. All you could think about was this man, who found it so easy to let go of safety in the face of his desperation for you.

When a whimper escaped your lips, Poe’s head buried itself into the crook of your neck, the rough fabric of his rec clothing grinding against your hips. You delicately slid your hand between your bodies, pressing against where he needed you most—against what you needed most.

The moan which he rewarded you with was utterly sinful, but it soon warped into a groan of aggravation. “No, wait wait wait.” he seemed almost panicked, but in a relaxed way; as if those two feelings didn’t directly contradict each other. You immediately backed away, confused, your mind doing laps around itself from the aftershocks of anticipation and the current worry of rejection.

Dameron was quick to reassure you, though. Not in words, but in the way his hands grabbed your waist. In the way he guided you to his bed. In the way he gently pushed you back until you were displayed underneath him. His eyes didn’t devour you, but gazed at you like you were a beautiful painting that he wanted to sear into the back of his brain, so that he could see it every time he closed his eyes. It was far too intimate for the one night stand you were well on your way to, but you couldn’t help but crave that sort of affection.

“This okay?” He asked, hands moving to his belt buckle.

“Could be a little faster.” You had meant it as a tease, but it came out breathy and hoarse; a beg for him to give you what he knew you so badly needed.

He smirked down at you and slowed the pace with which his deft hands worked at his belt, teasing you. His goal was quickly forgotten, though, when he heard the whine that had pushed through your lips. It was almost immediate, him kneeling on the bed, just to be closer to you; the way he dragged your trousers over your hips and down your legs as if drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. 

If you’d been planning on fucking Poe fucking Dameron tonight, you would have worn nicer underwear. Poe didn’t seem to care, though. He licked a stripe over your clothed clit, and your hands flew to his curls. To pull him closer or to push him away, you still hadn’t decided. His beautiful brown eyes looked up at you from between your thighs, dark with lust. Surging up, he attached his lips to yours, warm hands pawing his hands at the hem of your shirt. You melted into him. There is no better way to explain it. Your bodies intertwined, your lips on his, your hands cupping his cheeks. Your bodies only separated momentarily for Poe to drag your shirt above your head before immediately reconnecting. His hands were everywhere, as if he couldn’t possibly get enough. Calloused fingertips touching the soft skin of your breast and providing the delicious scrape of skin to skin that you craved.

It took only moments for you to turn the tables on Poe, using all of your strength against him as you flipped yourself on top, grinding onto his lap. He gasped into your mouth, hands fisting into the crisp white sheets beneath him. Your hips pressed against his, your hands working at his buttons while your lips explored his body. Your hands couldn’t seem to meet the pace of your thoughts, though, and when they couldn’t figure out the closures on his shirt, the only plausible option in your pleasure-drunk head was to tear the shirt at its seams and throw it across the room. 

Poe chuckled at you. “Eager?” It didn’t take more than an extra hard grind of your hips to shut him up, leaving him speechless and gasping for air. He gasped, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind him with a thunk. “You–You gotta stop doing that sweetheart. You’ll make me come before I even take my dick out.”

You slowed the grind of your hips in response, attaching your mouth to one of his nipples in answer. He let you do so for a moment before grabbing your thighs and dragging you down the bed while flipping you under him. You groaned at the loss of control, but your eyes widened with lust as he dragged down your underwear, the last remaining sliver of clothing which had remained on your body.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he attached his mouth to your clit, big brown eyes staring up at you as he sucked and licked at your core. He probed two thick fingers at your entrance as if testing the waters, and when met with absolutely no resistance, started slowly pumping them in and out of you. 

Poe’s ministrations were persistent, and your moans only seemed to be growing louder. You wondered if his neighbors could hear you, and the thought brought a rush of adrenaline through you.

As you grew closer to your climax, Poe’s name became a chant on your lips, accompanied by the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out, in and out. If his neighbors weren’t sure of what the two of you were up to before, they would probably be clued in by this point.

He removed his mouth from your clit, a line of saliva connecting his mouth to your core as he instructed, “I want you to come on my mouth, okay baby?” It was hard to focus on his words when all you could feel was the ache of his fingers inside you and the loss of his mouth on you. It was all you could do to nod in affirmation as you gazed into his eyes.

“Say it,” he prompted, slowing his pumping fingers.

“Yes. Yes Poe, I’ll–Just put your mouth back on me, I’ll come, just–” He cut you off by reattaching his mouth and speeding his teasing fingers. It wasn’t very long after that before your stomach tightened and your pussy began to clench around him, hips grinding onto his face as your orgasm tore through you, eyes rolling back, even as Poe’s tongue persisted. There was a cascade of fireworks clouding your vision as your body spasmed from pleasure.

When you finally relaxed into the mattress and Poe removed himself from your core, it was only mere moments before you felt Poe’s lips on yours, tasting yourself on his tongue, plus the sweet remnants of the Jogan Fruit.

When he removed his lips from yours, you opened your eyes to find him grinning down at you.

“You up for round two?”

[anxiousdreamcore]

Frontiers of Pandora story review ✨

BEWARE! Heavy spoilers ahead.

Alright, since I don’t see people talking about this game as much as I’d want on my socials, I decided to put together a little review where I talk about the story, what spoke to me, as well as some critiques.

To summarise my opinion; I love it! The story knows where it’s taking place and takes advantage of it. It covers dark topics and succeeds in staying as serious in tone as the movie franchise, which makes the campaign feel like it truly belongs in the world of Pandora.

To speak more in-depth; the plot of a Na’vi residential school had me hooked from the first moment. I think residential schools that native children were forced into are a topic not talked about often enough, so I appreciated the developers and writers bringing awareness to such facilities, even if it’s in sci-fi form. reconnecting with Na’vi heritage that was stolen from the main character and their family is executed quite well, as playing frontiers lets you get immersed into the feeling of exploration and discovery. The player is as un-knowledgeable about the world around them as the protagonist, and being able to experience new connections, abilities, places, stories and traditions side-by-side with them has been an amazing ride.

The different Na’vi cultures shown in the game are written organically. They each possess an intricate fashion based on their values, environment and history, but that is not all. Every clan has a cast of characters, bigger or smaller, who bring further life into the western frontier, help expand on the lore and provide entertainment. My personal favourites of these characters have to be Nefika and Kin, both elderly Na’vi with a welcoming presence and charm. Second to them come Eetu and Okul!

Then there is the main cast, which is MC, their three found family siblings, a.k.a the surviving Sarentu children, So’lek, Alma and Priya. We consistently stay in contact with them, both as part of the campaign and as part of our explorations, sharing experiences with them. The protagonist character is righteous, brave and endlessly adorable in their reactions to the world around them, and the trio of Sarentu forever have a place in my heart. I liked the concept of each one of the Sarentu children representing a different reaction to their past abuse and toxic relationship with John Mercer.

Nor, who had most luxury of remembering his life before being taken by the RDA, tries to distance himself as far as possible from everything human, and progressively adopts an antagonistic mindset towards his human allies, as well as a growing feeling of resentment and vengeance. I do not blame him for it and I believe it makes sense. After him comes Ri’nela, who, during Mercer’s captivity, tried staying out of sight but protecting her siblings where she could. Without Mercer, she feels insecure, constantly stumbling and at first, regularly looks guidance from Alma. She beats herself up for things that happen to Teylan and A’hari, despite being unable to have fixed them, but eventually grows into a stronger person, being able to take on the role of a Tsahik in the clan. Lastly, there is Teylan and he has to be my favorite character in the game. His bond to Mercer is strong, as T.A.P is all he ever knew, so without John, he begins falling apart. Lack of constant control and lack of ""affection"" from Tey’s "father figure" leave him feeling ten times as insecure as Ri’nela. He has a hard time learning Na’vi ways, keeps lagging behind and ultimately sticks to technology and hacking, which is worsened by So’lek’s nagging, as he obviously doesn’t know how severe Teylan’s abuse was and simply assumes that he is "lost" in the new world. Eventually, Teylan does what many abuse victims do, and returns to his abuser. An action I kind of predicted, but which still really hit me. His voice actor did an incredible job of portraying this character and the rest of the campaign I spent praying that I’ll get to bring him back home. In the end, I’m happy he’s at home and safe. 🥹💖🫶

Now to the grown ups. I don’t have much to say about Priya, but I grew fond of her. I liked her development from an awkward girl that sparks horrific second-hand embarrassment in the viewer to a resistance member who actively puts herself in the line of fire to help her friends. I found myself getting worried for her whenever she didn’t respond or was in danger.

So’lek is a character who I was immediately fond of, and I liked his growth as well. He saw himself as completely separate from human resistance members, and his thoughts are often occupied by revenge, but he comes to care for MC, the Sarentu and eventually the humans. Seeing him protect Alma when Nor attacks her was a brilliant moment.

Lastly, there is Alma herself. A very grey character who did horrible things in the past, like leading the program side-by-side with John Mercer. I liked her development, from an aloof and seemingly supportive teacher at T.A.P, to a person that orchestrated the entire project. Her grief and guilt feel organic, and I found myself having a lot of difficult feelings about her as it is obvious she cares for the Sarentu children, but her sins cannot be forgiven. I’m happy Ri’nela made the choice to simply part ways with her in peace, instead of trying to build a new bridge.

Now, for what I believe was executed badly. It’s quite unfortunate, but the game suffers from the same problem as Avatar the way of water, only quadrupled and that is; we don’t get enough time with the characters.

It feels even worse because in comparison to the movies, games don’t have to worry about pacing or time limits. The campaign can be as long as developers wish, but it came out rushed anyway. Part of the reason I got as attached to the characters as I did was because I spent time getting emotionally invested into everything they said, their minor behavioural cues and voicelines, but not everyone is as dedicated, and those people should have the right to experience a good story as well. They shouldn’t have to seek it out between the lines.

The only characters who I felt were properly developed are Teylan and Alma. They had the most extensive arcs and their growth was tied into a nice bow. But what about Ri’nela, Nor and So’lek? Nor suffers from Metkayina syndrome gets completely scrapped shortly before the finale, So’lek only gets crumbs of growth and Ri’nela is at times forgotten about completely. Her development as a character is too off-screen and between the lines for most people to catch it, and I find that sad because she’s such a sweet character when you actually get invested into her.

In the end, Frontiers of Pandora’s story feels like a good joke with all the necessary setup but only half-delivered punchline. I had very reasonable expectations and a lot of them were not fulfilled. This project is definitely miles better than whatever Ubisoft has been releasing in these last years, but I really hope that the DLCs will expand on the story further.

Verdict on the campaign; 7 out of 10. The setup and the beginning of the story were just perfect, but in the end, the characters didn’t get the treatment they deserved. Thank you for reading.

[animentality]

the fun thing about durgetash for me as far as definitely toxic ships go, is that gortash and durge, as individuals, are toxic. but the ship itself? not toxic at all in my take. because as horrible as they are as people, the love they have for each other is actually very genuine. everyone else in the world is dust under their boots except for each other. they truly respect each other and get along frighteningly well and listen to each other and support each other’s atrocities and so, if you ignore the screaming of their victims in the background, their relationship is actually kind of healthy.

to be fair: this is with my version of them in mind lol i know other people have spicer takes where they ARE actively toxic to each other and such, and those are fun too but ive gotten so into the version of them where they both just exude toxicity to everyone in their lives EXCEPT each other. it’s already a trope im very weak to but its especially crazy with them. its like they cancel each other out somehow lol

like i think it takes a while to get to that point of course, to build up actual trust enough to feel even slightly safe around each other, but once they open up to each other the affection-starvation just jumps out. and then despite everything they manage to actually be gentle with each other. and neither of them deserves gentleness of any sort, but they get it anyway, from each other.

so for me durgetash is “toxic” only by virtue of the individuals involved being horrible terrible people, and because they gleefully support each other’s evil plans, and not because of how they actually treat each other, which is actually the closest thing to “normal” either of them will ever experience (and it is still so, so far from “normal” lol)

but it’s still also nice to be in a ship where the discourse is so obvious we don’t even bother lol. yes gortash has a list of human rights abuses longer than he is tall. yes he’s gonna have an evil cuddle with his evil partner-in-crime in their evil bedroom after a long, hard day of being evil. and i’m gonna be thinking about it <3

Anon, you get me.

I think durgetash just works because...they are so blatantly evil.

Gortash tortured a bunch of people trying to figure out how tadpoles worked, and the evidence of his crimes is in the mindflayer colony beneath Moonrise and in the Steel Watch Foundry. His Steel Watch guards literally kill children and innocent families.

The Dark Urge mentions killing (eating?) a BABY. They have killed thousands. They eat human meat. They torture people.

They both started the entire plot by being total pieces of shit.

So what are you going to do?

Cancel them???

The game cancels them.

Gortash literally got cancelled so hard his brain popped.

The Dark Urge dies in most playthroughs. They only become redeemable by literally dying and becoming a new person. Plus their life is so fucking awful, that it almost cancels out how bad they are, because they're a vessel of Bhaal, who can either choose obedience or death.

They are both so outrageously evil, you can't even be outraged.

No one on the entire planet is defending either of them.

It almost defeats itself as an argument, like, you say Gortash is horrible, and I say yeah, man. You say, the Dark Urge is evil, and I say absolutely.

But that's kind of why...a relationship between the two of them IS so good, though.

Sure, there have always been villainous ships, but...something about these jagged creatures having a soft spot for one another...

It just works.

It's...it's taking two wretched beasts, and giving them something human to hold between their claws.

How can you support them being together, but how could you deny them this?

They're so horrible, they don't deserve love, but at the same time, seeing profoundly evil people are still capable of love, and humanity is inescapable, no matter how inhuman you are...

Hmmmm.

Yes.

The worse Dark Urge and Enver are, the better Durgetash comes.

That's the wonderful conundrum.

It's honestly such a SHIP, anon.

THE Ship.

[tswwwit]

28.7% of you voted for this filth

NSFW! Here's some smut.

This won the poll, and here's what I ended up giving you in return. My condolences for this entire thing. 😔

Highlight below for kink/content warnings

Dom/sub, mild bondage, dirty talk, prostate massage, creampie/cum kink, mirror sex

Now here's the actual fic!

Dipper forces himself to turn away from his phone.

He takes a deep breath. Tapping his pen on the paper, where he has notes to make. Really important ones. In theory. 

Right now, he could be making progress on any of the dozen mysteries on his plate, or unraveling another half-dozen demonic plots.

Hell, there’s even peace and quiet. 

Being in Bill’s bedroom - their bedroom - means he has something like. Well. A secret lab, though a weird one. Definitely a private sanctum. Their room in the Fearamid is a profoundly private space to work in -  as long as Bill's not around - because nobody else would ever dare intrude. 

Time, and space, and power. Knowledge, even. Everything Dipper could ever ask for. For finding focus. For doing good.

Dipper catches himself looking at his phone again. This time, he gives it the glare it truly deserves.

It really is gaudy as hell, isn’t it. An eyesore if there ever was one. What a shame that magical function doesn’t always fit an aesthetic; golden’s what he’s stuck with, as long as he wants this thing to work.

The flipside is that nobody can deny that his phone’s very functional. 

No other device has interdimensional reception. Making calls even between other realms of existence, texting between worlds. Best phone connection in this segment of the multiverse, courtesy of one accidental life bond.

Dipper can’t exactly sell the patent, though. Since it’s partially created from semi-illegal bits scavenged from Ford’s lab, partly from a concoction of spells of his own creation -

And partly from Bill’s own exoskeleton. Hence the gaudiness.

Plus the internet gets finicky, which is kind of a hiccup. And while a life-bond makes it work, the average magic-user doesn’t have a good conversationalist at the other end. Sometimes the connection gets garbled, or the thing itself corrupts other magic around it. Apparently it radiates an aura, too. One that Dipper can’t feel, but is ‘vaguely creepy’.

But even Bill admitted the design was impressive, and that’s an accomplishment in any entity’s book. Sincere compliments from Bill freakin’ Cipher are very, very hard-won. He’s seen basically everything, knows so much, and what Dipper came up with was, quote, ‘pretty cool!’. 

Inevitably, Dipper finds himself staring at his stupid phone again.

It’s the way it catches the light, he swears. He’d spraypaint it if he could without compromising the spellwork. Like the major part of its physical makeup, it’s ridiculous, showy, and overly complicated. 

And oddly tempting.

Dipper keeps tapping his pen, point down, on the paper. He doesn’t have anything to write down at the moment, though he feels like he should. Even though he has the time to work out a thousand other things, a million investigations, his thoughts keep drifting towards. Other stuff.

Which is so dumb. Dipper could be doing any number of things, with all the power and knowledge he has on hand. Unfortunately, his stupid brain and dick are full of ideas too, and they’re ganging up on him. It’s very distracting.

If only things were more difficult, this wouldn’t be an issue.

Because if Dipper really wants a distraction, it's a phone call away. Basically no effort at all. He could have it within minutes - theoretically - because Bill tends to like this sort of thing. He’d be game for it, any time.

Dipper plants his elbows on his desk, and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

But there’s so many reasons not to do it. 

Bill’s not here, for one. Dipper would be interrupting his entire ‘business’ day, and throwing a wrench into his ‘work’. He doesn’t know precisely what Bill’s up to this time, but there’s thousands of plans Bill could be enacting. Millions of beings to torment, or terrify. Bugging him for something this petty, pointless, and kind of perverted, is -

…Another reason Bill would like it. 

And, technically preventing evil from happening. Distraction goes both ways; Bill can’t do two things at once. 

Dipper glares down at the paper in front of him. No words there, just an exercise in abstract pointillism. 

Great. Now he’s talking himself into this. 

It wouldn’t even be difficult. No fire, no fighting, no clever mind games. Hell, Dipper could just literally just call, or even like, text, or something, and it’s not like he’d get a no.

Or rather, he might get a no. But it’d be with some very distracting responses that’d derail his own day, with a promise to make up for Bill’s absence. A sincere one, for once. 

Nobody else could get that. Not from Bill. Sincerity. Earnestness. Even if it’s about his desire, it’s something so rare that it’s almost - 

Dipper sets the pen down with a decisive click. 

Screw it. 

He’s young, he has…. Feelings about stuff. Ones that he can actually do something about, unlike his awkward teenage years. With someone who thinks he’s hot. 

Really, he’d be betraying himself by not taking advantage. There were times he would have done way more embarrassing things, for far less attention. 

Dipper nods to himself, and picks up the phone. 

Worst case scenario, Bill’s too caught up in stuff to duck out, and he has to wait a few hours. Best case Bill’s going to be distracted himself, Dipper gets something he wants - and less evil happens. A win three times over.

…And maybe he shouldn’t have put his phone on silent, because he has over forty missed messages.

Dipper turns that off, and starts scrolling. Up, then down again. 

There sure is. A lot.  

Bill’s sent ninety percent of the texts in the last half hour, every one of them in his typical all-caps. Without any bragging, hardly any bullshit, and basically zero smug asides. Not even a bunch of cryptic comments about what a clever demon Bill is. 

Dipper starts smiling.

Guess things aren’t quite what Bill was expecting when he took up this latest ‘business’ trip. 

In fact, if Dipper’s any expert - and he is - Bill’s been having a shitty day. 

So. It’s not selfish, really, to want him to get up to something else. It’s actually a fantastic idea. 

Dipper taps the phone against his chin. End goal in mind, plan… not created yet. That requires some thought. 

Does he just... Ask? It seems simple enough, but how is he supposed to phrase it. One way seems too forward. Another one might sound like some weirdo stole his phone. Can’t get too subtle, either, Bill’s missed it when he veiled it too much before….

Dipper manages to come up with two or three lines that aren’t totally cringy, before the buzz against his face interrupts his train of thought.

Bill, again. More messages in his ranting missive.

“SUMMONS, FOR CHAO’S SAKE. DOES THIS GUY EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS OR DID HE JUST PICK UP THE RIGHT INTERDIMENSIONAL PHONE BOOK”

“I’M CONSIDERING DELETING MOST OF THIS GALAXY NEXT CHANCE I GET. JUST TO GET RID OF THE CONTACT INFORMATION”

“A SUMMON IS NOT A *SERVANT* FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, THERE”S A DEAL AND EVERYTHING”

“DO THE WORDS ‘CONTRACTOR AGREEMENT’ MEAN ANYTHING OR DOES IT GO IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER TWO”

“WHY DO YOU CONTACT AN EXPERT AND NOT TAKE THE ADVICE??? IT WAS ALMOST FREE!”

Dipper rolls his eyes. 

Yet another reason he should go ahead with his idea. If he doesn’t nip the complaining in the bud soon, Bill’s going to ramble on forever. 

Serves him right, anyway. Bill may not be able to be summoned to Earth, but he’s sure as hell still taking calls from other realms. Dipper can’t even tell Bill he’s sorry one’s gone wrong; it’d be too obvious a lie. He’ll settle for not commenting.

Dipper taps the back of the phone for a second, thinking. Then responds.

“I take it you’re not having much fun”

“OH NO, I'M HAVING A HELL OF A TIME”

“COULDN’T FIND A BETTER PARTY AT THE INTERGALACTIC DMV”

Not a great sign. Bill knows that Dipper doesn’t want to know the details of his work - but the metaphor’s a clue. That it’s complicated, and annoying. 

Dipper frowns. There’ll likely be a wait. 

“So… pretty busy.”

“YEAH THIS COULD DRAG ON”

“SERIOUSLY SCREW THIS GUY THOUGH. CAN’T TAKE A HINT, CAN’T MAKE HIS OWN PLOTS? I’M UP TO HERE WITH THIS LOSER.”

“THE SECOND I CAN PULL A DECENT DOUBLE-CROSS I’M GOING FOR IT”

Huh. Usually Bill’s better at finding chances. Dipper doubts the summoning was that ironclad; loopholes are too common. More likely than not, Bill simply hasn’t found something entertaining enough yet.

“I’m surprised you haven’t found one already.”

“HEY! DOUBLECROSSING IS AN ART, KID.”

“GOTTA COME UP WITH JUST THE RIGHT THING TO REALLY RUB SOME SULFURIC ACID IN THE WOUND”

“Yeah, fine”

Yep. Just like he thought. Dipper sticks his tongue out at the screen. 

Typical Bill. Can’t get his ass off the metaphorical couch unless it’s interesting. Without the promise of a prize at the end, Bill’s more likely to laze around with a martini than put effort into complicated plans. Or chores. Even if he could literally wave his hand and take care of things, if it’s not entertaining-

Actually.

There’s an idea.

Dipper hops up from his seat and heads over to his dresser. Tugging the middle drawer open, and rifling through it until he finds the prize. The slick black wood is easy to find, he hasn’t moved it in a while. 

He drops down on the bed this time, and sets the box on his chest. Heart beating a bit faster, a little tense with nerves. A little excited. He sends the next message in a rush.

“Maybe I could help out?”

“WOW!! THAT'S A FIRST! PINE TREE, I’M BOTH INSULTED YOU THINK I NEED IT AND FLATTERED YOU OFFERED!”

“ALRIGHT WHAT’S GOING ON” 

Dipper unlatches the box, and picks up the collar. 

The black leather is soft between his fingers. He lets it dangle for a moment, tag jingling slightly as he holds it above his face. It’s not heavy with anything but implied meaning.

This particular item doesn’t see a ton of use. It’s not always the right time, because Dipper’s not always in the right mood. Once it is, though. When Dipper puts it on….

That’s. Offering power to an infinite being of pure energy, who shouldn’t even need the token to take it. And once he has it, he’ll be very, very thorough about using it. Something that sounds pretty intimidating, because it is pretty intimidating. 

Right now, if Dipper’s being honest with himself - it kinda sounds great. It’s always worked out really well for him. 

And there’s no way Bill won’t find this interesting. 

“Thought I could uh. Give you some motivation?”

“???”

Welp. Here goes. 

Without hesitating (much), Dipper wraps the collar around his neck and clasps it shut.. Feeling a light chill from the golden triangle tag on his neck, just above his collarbone. The leather not-quite tight against his throat. 

He shuffles into the blankets, getting comfortable. Time to go for it. 

Clearing his throat, and breathing in, then out, Dipper holds his phone up with both hands. He takes the picture.

…it doesn’t look as cool as he thought it would.

The first three don’t look great. Another he’s not - well, a glare can be sexy, in Bill’s mind, but this one just shows how annoyed he is with trying to take a stupid picture. 

Dipper spends longer than he wanted just futzing with the camera and the view he’s about to provide. Bill’s a stickler for angles especially, Dipper wants to get it right.

Another buzz from his phone. Damn it, he should just send something, he’s leaving Bill hanging. For once, Dipper has like, some kind of ‘seduction’ momentum going, he can’t lose it now. 

He holds his phone up again, and makes himself relax. Just a pic, doesn’t need to be fancy. 

Dipper smiles, tilting his head back, neck arched with its strip of black leather fully on display. He snaps the photo and hits send before he can hesitate. Take that, second-guessing, Dipper got ahead of it this time.

Maybe it’s not the best photo, but it doesn’t have to be great. Just as long as it shows the important parts. Dipper’s not trying to do a model shoot for crying out loud. He’s just. Sending an invite.

One he hopes Bill will accept.

He lasts about three seconds before he nervously adds a text. Just in case Bill got the wrong idea. Not that Dipper’s sure what that would be, but still.

“Bedroom in half an hour?”

He’s left on read for a full, anxious two seconds.

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“YOU KIDDING? BE THERE IN THE”

"*TREE"

“THRE MAYBE FIVE"

"OKAY TEN MINUTES TOPS”

“DON’T GO ANYWHERE”

Dipper drops back on the bed, letting out a soft laugh. 

Wow. That was easy. 

Somewhere, through their bond, Dipper can feel Bill bustling around at a far distance. The trip back’s going to be a bit, he guesses. 

Dipper sets his phone on the bedside table - then pauses. Heart beating a little faster, a tent in his pants -  then tugs the drawer below it open. They’re going to need the lube soon anyway. Might as well snag it. 

Still, the bed’s comfy and Dipper wasn’t doing anything anyway.  He settles down to mess with the internet on his phone - spotty, again, it never works right in Bill’s place.

About nine minutes later, he realizes he’s obsessively checking the door now.

Totally normal, though. Bill’s usually later than he says he’ll be. Dipper knew he was in for a wait, though for once he’s oddly impatient. As soon as Bill gets here, he’s going to - 

…Not be able to do much, since Dipper basically has nothing set up but the lube. Might as well get on that now before it makes another delay.

Dipper sighs, shrugging his shirt off, and kicking off his shoes. Shuffling out of his pants, and casting them aside. The underwear has to go, too. Last time Dipper tried a ‘seduction’ with his boxers still on, Bill teased him about it. 

Lube, check. Collar, on. Being naked in their bedroom isn’t uncomfortable even on top of the blankets, with that eternal fireplace burning. Dipper kicks the last leg of his boxers off just as the thumping of footsteps sounds from outside the door.

Eleven minutes of waiting. Something to tease Bill about in a minute. 

Then a thud. The locked knob jiggles for a moment. A muffled swear - then the brief zap of the magical locks unclicking.

Bill’s not only eager, it’s like he’s worried that he’ll miss out on the chance. Like Dipper would pull this and take off, leaving Bill to arrive back at an empty bedroom.

Which, okay. Dipper could. But he’s not going to. Bill may be a multiversal asshole, but he’s done nothing to Dipper to deserve it.

Years ago, he wouldn’t have had any reason to send racy messages to someone. Knowing any picture he did send would get an ‘ew’ or a ‘why’. 

Clearly, he hadn’t met the right person yet.

It’s really hard not to smile, so Dipper doesn’t even bother trying.

The door to their bedroom slams open, and Bill Cipher emerges. Still holding the door handle, arms spread wide with a wild, brilliant grin on his face. 

Dipper sits up, gives him a little wave, and a slow onceover - 

Then raises an eyebrow.

Bill’s grinning. Bill’s delighted. He’s full of all his impeccable confidence, radiating ‘infuriatingly smug’ in a way that Dipper could spot through a blindfold -

But his hair is rather messy, and his suit is in ruins. 

Bill stalks forward, and the door slams shut behind him as he starts undoing his tie. “Well, well, well, well, well!” His tongue runs briefly over his teeth, eye roving. “What have we here!”

Dipper shrugs. Normally he’d have a response, but. Eying Bill again doesn’t change the disaster of his clothing.

There’s certainly a lot of something on Bill’s jacket. Greenish stains, brown on his cuffs. Odd purple flecks gobbed on him like clumps of glue. Typically when Bill’s had a summon, he ends up in less dire sartorial straits. There isn’t much blood - Dipper doesn’t think any of it is Bill’s, it’s too drippy - but the stains are unmistakable.

The shirt’s also very. Holey. It’s surprising Bill hasn’t made a pun before stripping it off.

“What happened to you?” Dipper folds his legs under himself. Bill’s still his focus, but now the interest is less specific. “Bad spell? Weird summoner?” Another lookover; it makes him grimace. “A toxic waste dump?”

“There was a lotta stuff around for the summoning. No biggie.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. He flicks an unidentifiable blob goo off his sleeve, offering Dipper an impeccable smile. “And when things go south in a deal, sometimes you gotta get a little hands on!”

Dipper folds his arms, and says nothing.

“Now look at you!” Bill practically purrs, striding in to flick the tag on the collar. His eye roves over Dipper, gleaming bright. “What a style! Coming from a fashion-comatose guy like you, of all places.” He tucks two fingers under the collar, and leans in with a leer. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t count on it.” Dipper dodges the finger to his chin. In his peripheral vision, he catches Bill looking disappointed. “You’re not getting anything at the moment.”

Dipper knew what he was implying with his. Invitation. The terms were set a while ago, and the sign of their ‘deal’ is wrapped around his neck. He knows that Bill’s supposed to be in charge -

But, like. There are some limitations.

“Aha! So that’s the game today, huh?” Bill  rubs his hands together, eye lighting up. “I can-”

“Nope.” Dipper smacks a palm on Bill’s chest. Bill blinks, but stops gloating enough to look surprised. “Hold on a minute.”

“What?”

“You’re a wreck, Bill.” Like it wasn’t obvious. Bill glances down at himself. A flicker of a grimace crosses his face, and Dipper gives him a couple quick pats on the chest. “Go clean up first.”

“Oh, is that the problem?” Bill’s grin returns, leaning in anyway. Dipper dodges the kiss, only to have it land next to his ear. Squirming doesn’t help, because Bill plants a few more, nipping briefly at his earlobe - and chuckles. “I thought you liked things messy.”

Dipper feels heat rise into his face. Now he gives his idiot husband a shove. “Not like this.” 

“Aw, c’mon!” Bill puckers up to an absurd degree, hands clasped near his chest. “Give your husband a smooch. It’s the least you could do!”

“Nope.” Dipper isn’t going to smile. It’d only encourage him. His next push doesn’t move this obnoxious dick, so he gets up to add more force behind the shoving. “Go on, get moving.”

Bill starts cackling. Dipper ends up having to dig his feet in the carpet, bearing down as Bill keeps trying to kiss his face, nudging him in the vague direction of the bathroom. Adding an elbow, for emphasis. At this point, he’d settle for getting Bill to the dresser to change. 

“What, not into the acid-splattered gooey look?” Bill backs up slowly as Dipper presses him along, with a teasing grab or two at his butt - though eventually, he raises his hands. “Alright, alright. Hang tight here. I’ll be back in a sec.” 

Bill clicks his tongue as he finally backs into the bathroom with double finger guns and a wink. Dipper flips him off, just because. Sticking his tongue out in Bill’s direction for good measure - then at the mark on his left palm.

Off in the bathroom, he hears a distant chuckle.

Not the most elegant start to the evening. But then, he doesn’t think they’ve ever had one. 

Dipper sits back down on the mattress. Bouncing in place a few times. At least the bed is comfy. Waiting here is more than tolerable. It’s not even chilly, with the eternal fire burning in that fireplace. 

A little more waiting won’t matter, anyway. Bill will be out within moments, as quick as he can; Dipper can hear the rush of water, and his husband humming a cheery tune to himself. 

Once Bill’s done changing. Once he’s wiped off the residue and changed his clothes. He’ll be ready, and wanting things from one young human, who’s - not technically helpless, but for the moment pretending to be. He could make all kinds of demands.

Dipper runs a finger under the collar. 

Bill’s enthusiasm, in fact, carries over into all the things he does. Especially when he wants to entertain, or if he’s on a mission to conquer. 

Technically this situation qualifies for both.

Dipper rubs his slightly damp palms on his thighs, and breathes out slowly.

He can already imagine Bill bursting into the room, with a show of power. Throwing the door open, alight  with fire, full of all the energy and violence that a nightmare demon can display. His strong arms braced against the doorframe, and a wicked grin on his face. Ready to shamelessly ogle the present he’s arrived to collect.

The lube’s close by. Dipper fumbles for the bottle and clicks it open. 

It’s cool against his palm and cooler against his dick as he takes himself in hand.

He already knows what Bill looks like when he’s naked, and it’s easy to picture the lean lines of him, all the bare skin and the shape of his muscles. Bill’s unfortunately attractive. Oddly compelling. Dipper has to hand it to himself; he did an amazing job on the human shape, even unintentionally.  

The form enhances what should be absurd. Someone. Demanding. Conniving and evil and selfish, taking what he wants, and he wants Dipper, badly. Undeniably so; Dipper's felt it before, in his palm or in his mouth or inside him. 

Letting a slow sigh, Dipper rests back on the bed. He slows in his strokes, running his thumb over the head of his dick.

Soon, Bill will loom over Dipper and take him by the collar, tugging him up with undeniable force and an evil grin. Maybe with his pants unzipped, his thick cock hard and -

“Already getting started, are ya?”

With instincts long-honed from many lonely nights, Dipper yanks the blanket over himself. 

“Aw, someone’s shy!” Bill walks closer, wearing both a smug look and a fresh set of clothes. He throws in a wink in response to Dipper’s glare, and starts rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “Ease up already. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Right. Just Bill. Dipper feels his shoulders drop; he still flips Bill off again, out of sheer contrariness. Bill may have seen everything before, but he also didn’t have to make a startling entrance. Probably part of the fun for him. Because he’s a jerk.

Dipper sighs, and tosses the blanket away. “You could have told me you were ready.”

“Oh, I’m more than ready.” Bill responds easily. He waves off Dipper’s comment as he walks to the side of the bed. As he draws his arms apart, a thin line of black connects them. Pulled straight into existence, with all the power he has. And winks. “I’m prepared.”

Dipper swallows, touching the collar again. His eyes follow the long, long line of the leash, held in Bill’s solid grip.

He knew what he was in for. What he signed up for, technically. Having it be so certain makes him want to tremble - and also makes his traitorous dick very, very hard.

Bill stalks in, nudging Dipper’s chin upward with a grin - and clicks the lead onto the collar.

He nods to himself, once. Wraps the very end of the leash around his palm. Then simply stands there, hands on his hips. “Go on.”

That’s. Kind of a vague prompt. Dipper hesitates, he’s not sure what to do- 

“I mean, don’t stop the show, sapling.” Bill settles back, tucking his thumbs into his pockets with a wicked smile. “Touch yourself.”

“Oh.” Dipper feels his heart start to race. 

Bill’s watching intently, with a pleased smirk on his face, expecting his ‘show’ -  And, while he’s ogled Dipper going at this before, it wasn’t in this context. 

Typically, Dipper doesn’t let Bill push him around. Definitely never listens to his weirder requests. But this time, Dipper asked for it. He knew what he was getting into. When he called Bill over. When he made himself available, when he invited Bill to take advantage of it - and that means following Bill’s lead.

Dipper lies back on the mattress. Shutting his eyes, and taking his dick in hand again. 

If he doesn’t look, he can pretend that Bill’s not watching. Not that it helps much. Jerking off feels different, it’s hard to keep it slow. Bill’s keeping quiet, but Dipper can feel his gaze on his skin like heat.

“That’s it.” Bill’s voice drops a little, lower and more intent. “Very nice.”

Dipper keeps his eyes shut. Now he presses his lips together to cover a moan. Knowing Bill’s watching him always makes him self-conscious no matter what he’s doing. Especially with this. Keeping note of how he holds himself, to how much Bill can see - whether he should arch up or angle himself differently, it’s embarrassing and exciting, like the picture he sent but with Bill right there watching. Dipper burns with awareness, and heat rises into his face.

There’s a soft shuffle of steps. Like Bill’s getting closer - no, he is, Dipper can tell by the pleased sound he makes. “Spread your legs.”

Demanding as always; why does he have to, isn’t this enough? Dipper’s already so exposed and - There isn’t much space, sitting like this -  but he lies back and props his feet on the bed. Knees lifted and legs open. 

There’s a soft click, and a softer groan. Dipper blinks an eye open. 

Bill’s undone his belt; his fly open and his pants pushed slightly down. He’s hard and standing out against his shirt, at least as turned on as Dipper is - and taking himself in hand with slow strokes that Dipper watches with a sharp spark of arousal. 

Maybe it’s more like outright staring. Who cares; Bill’s doing it right back to him, fair’s fair. 

Dipper tightens his grip. Dick throbbing at the knowledge that Bill likes what he sees. Knowing he’s admiring him, that for some reason Bill loves watching this, he’s said as much before.

None of which helps Dipper keep the pace slow, he’s wanted to come for a while and now he could, if it wouldn’t ruin the upcoming events.

“Now that’s what I like to see.” Bill sets a palm below one of Dipper’s raised knees, sliding it downward. “Every bit of my eager little mortal, ready for me.” His eye trails over Dipper’s own frantic grip on his dick, stroking himself at a far more measured pace. Watching Dipper like he’s fascinating, like this embarrassing display is a delight. “All mine.”

“Shut up. It’s not -” Dipper wants to clamp his legs together, but Bill shoves them back apart. Thumbs tracing the skin of Dipper’s thighs, leaning in to plant a kiss on the skin. Dipper takes another breath. “I just wanted…”  He stumbles over what he was going to say, as Bill settles in between his legs, leaning over him - and Dipper lets his head drop back with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Oh sure, in a minute. Though honestly, I could watch this all day!” Bill keeps petting his legs, and yeah, definitely looming - while looking terrifically smug about it. “But I think you called me in ‘cause you wanted a hand.”

“Yeah.” Of course Dipper wants a hand, or. More than that. He could jerk off anytime, that’s simple, he didn’t need to get Bill involved for that. It's just that what Bill does to him is so much better. ”Please.”

Bill hums for a moment, considering his prize. Tapping Dipper’s sides briefly, before leaning in to lick at his nipple, sucking it into his mouth before nipping, teeth light on the flesh. 

Dipper holds back a gasp. That sent a spark of heat right down to his dick. Bill’s tongue lathes over it again, warm and wet, while he takes the other between two fingers, rolls it around, and pinches, both sharp and good.

“God.” Dipper keeps a deathgrip on his dick, slowing down. The other grips Bill’s hair. He’s not sure if he wants to push him in or pull him away - and Bill’s hum against his chest sounds like he’s covering a laugh. “You bastard.”

Bill mutters something that might be ‘you like it’, shoulders shaking with amusement. Moving on, and kissing further down Dipper’s stomach. Much less intense. Warm, and pleasant. Dipper lets out a held breath. 

Only to pull another in, quick, because now Bill’s switched. Taking the already teased one in hand to roll and pinch when it’s already oversensitive from his tongue. It’s a bright shock of pleasure, of pain, and Dipper arches up with a gasp, before clasping his free hand over his mouth.

“Hey!” Bill stops his descent suddenly, pausing just above Dipper’s navel. He’s frowning, mouth inches away from Dipper’s dick. “What did I say about noises?”

Wait, why is Bill - Dipper sits up, blinking down at him.

He heard what Bill just said, but retorts are. Difficult right now. Made worse because he’s watching Bill’s lips, and the way his tongue moves, so close to where he wants them. 

But wait, right, he remembers this. It was…. Dipper stares at him, unable to think. “Uh.”

“It was ‘make lots of ‘em’, if you need the reminder. Say whatever comes to mind!” Bill slides his hands down Dipper’s chest, rudely squeezing his thighs again. His smile widens, bright with enthusiasm. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dipper swallows. What Bill’s asking for is-

No, he can’t. He has so many thoughts, all the time, and during sex they’re all dumb and horny. Downright ridiculous. 

Right now, his mind’s drawing a blank. Even for the stupid stuff.

For Bill, it’s easy. He always says what he’s thinking, especially in bed. Hell, he can go on a full on monologue; has, at times, and it’s always something filthy and insane and arousing. Half of the things Bill says sound absurd in the light of day - but in the moment they’re actually pretty great. 

And Bill’s seen thousands of minds and dreams, he’s encountered every situation, seen infinite fantasies. Dipper doesn’t think he has enough imagination to get weird enough to match.

Dipper turns his head away instead, keeping his mouth shut. Hearing - and feeling - Bill’s impatient sigh.  

There’s also no way Bill’s going to move forward without being told something. But. Dipper can’t think of anything good.

After a moment, Bill smacks him lightly on the side. “Speak up already.” He plants another wet kiss on Dipper’s stomach, so close to his dick. Offering up a wide, teasing smile. “What do you want?”

A lot of things. Some other stuff. A myriad of ideas, none of which Bill knows about, because - 

Dipper sits up. The idea snaps back into place. 

Because Bill can’t get into Dipper’s head. 

He’s been million brains, encountered a million fantasies - but none of them are what Dipper thinks about when he jerks off. 

Dipper takes a slow calming breath. Bill’s been waiting, mouthing against his hip, hot breath ghosting over his groin. Distracting, but not enough to truly help.

In theory, this is simple. Just like his invitation, it doesn’t have to be perfect, so long as the intent is there.

Really, Bill might love whatever comes out of his mouth, because in this one, specific circumstance he’s not a mind-reader. It must drive him insane, that he can’t reach in and drag out every fantasy Dipper’s ever had, and use all of them against him.

And Dipper’s supposed to do what Bill wants.

Bill’s drags his teeth against the soft skin of his thigh, leaving red lines; his thumbs digging into the juncture of his hip fingers on his stomach - it’s a lot and not enough at the same time, it - 

Dipper shuts his eyes. Takes a shuddering breath, and says, “Feels good.”

“Is that so?” Bill’s voice drops to a purr. Dipper hears the bottle of lube click again. “How good?”

Just. Good? Dipper doesn’t know what to tell him, so he ends up saying, “A lot.” Then, “Can you use your mouth?” But that’s not quite it, and now that the words have started tumbling from him Dipper finds he can’t stop -  “And I really want you in me again.”

So awkward, without any of Bill’s eloquence. Dipper can’t match him, he just stumbles trying to get it out.

But the way Bill’s eye literally lights up makes Dipper feel a bit better. And the way he groans against Dipper’s skin, and sucks his cock into the hot wet of his mouth, dragging his tongue on the underside, makes it feel fantastically, absolutely better. 

Dipper bucks his hips up, tangling fingers in Bill’s hair. Urging him on. Bill moves with it easily, and Dipper feels a low vibration of a held back laugh that makes him groan.

Okay. Not exactly the hottest thing in the world, but, fuck, it didn’t have to be. If it works, it works; Dipper will take the embarrasment, and say way, way dumber stuff, all the time, if it gets Bill to do this. 

Bill pulls away, all too suddenly, leaving Dipper bereft and annoyed. Glaring up at Bill’s smug grin, and handsome face.

There isn’t any reason to startle when Bill’s finger pushes in, but. Well, the lube’s cold, and it was sudden. And also...

“Just one?” Dipper frowns up at Bill as his finger works slowly inside him, dipping in and out. Thin and firm, not nearly enough - and Bill’s smirking, too, the jerk. “You can do more than that.”

“I dunno. Should I?” Bill purses his lips, like he’s contemplating it. “I haven’t heard how it feels yet.”

This asshole. Dipper wants to swear, but. That’s useless, so he squeezes his legs around Bill instead.

This jerk just wants to drag things out, doesn’t he. Won’t let up until he’s satisfied. Bill might have control, sure. But he thinks Dipper’s hot, and that means there’s some leverage. 

Since Dipper's not getting what he wants. Then he’ll just have to tempt him. 

Bill wants to hear him? Fine, no more repressing. Even the soft panting has clearly raised his interest, and Dipper can totally do less to hold himself back.

“It feels great, okay?” Dipper glares up at him. Bill licks his lips, finger curling - and the involuntary moan Dipper lets out makes Bill’s cock visibly twitch. Dipper arches up and strokes himself again, while Bill’s occupied. “I can take more. I want it.”

Bill opens his mouth. Like he’s about to interrupt, or tease - Before he can say anything, Dipper reaches down and hauls Bill’s hand closer, urging it in.

He knows Bill can do worse. That he wants to be inside, so he’ll help him imagine what else he could be doing - 

“Ah ah ah! Fantastic performance, sapling.” Bill catches his wrists, forcing them up and away.  “Until you got too cocky.” And winks at his own awful pun. 

Damn it, Dipper wants to swat him. He was almost - he tries to yank away, but Bill’s too strong and his grip too tight. Leaning over him, and drawing his arms over his head. over him now, kneeling between his legs. 

Bill slides the collar to the side, wraps Dipper’s hands together with the long leather of the leash. Not tightly, but firm. He leans over Dipper, chest above his face - and damn it, Dipper’s halfway tempted to just bite some of the buttons of Bill’s shirt open. 

Then he sinks back, and grins. Dipper moves to swat him, and can’t. He yanks at the leash again, strains against it,  but there’s barely any give -

And when he glances up at the headboard, Bill’s looped the end onto a hook. The leather drawn tight, keeping Dipper's arms raised.

Glaring at Bill gets a temporary reprieve as Dipper glares at his restraint instead. Then back at Bill, who’s unbearably smug about his stunt. Dipper sinks back on the mattress with a huff. 

“Can’t have you coming too soon, y’know.” Bill releases his arms, tracing down Dipper’s neck, fingers trailing around the collar. And throwing in a wink for good measure. “Not when we got all night to play around.”

Oh god. That doesn’t bode well. Or rather, it does, but. In a very specific way. 

Dipper tugs at his restraints, arching up and finding no escape. Okay. Better brace himself. Bill’s always loved to torment; he’ll take his time with things. Touch and tease and taunt without truly being satisfying; he’ll make Dipper wait until it almost hurts; it’s going to be terrible and great, just like the demon himself. 

“Now!” Bill claps his hands together, rubbing them with anticipation. “Where were we?” Not waiting for a response before slipping a finger - no, two - back inside, rougher than before.. 

If Dipper does whimper, he’ll deny it later. It makes Bill raise an eyebrow, smile growing a fraction; Dipper pushes into his fingers only to find Bill retreating with a grin. He’s not going to let Dipper urge him on. Definitely won’t let him come by himself, or get there before he’s allowed. Everything’s under Bill’s control, something both incredibly frustrating and. Interesting.

And Bill’s too experienced. Bill’s too clever. The way he presses inside is unfortunately great. They’ve been together long enough that Bill knows exactly where he needs to touch, and does it with aplomb - 

And just enough to tease. 

Dipper clicks his teeth shut against another sound. Breathing slowly, and shutting his eyes.

The stretch is good. The pressure, so much better; warm and invasive. Arousing. Bill rolls inside him, presses and strokes, his hand pushing against Dipper hard - then retreating - only to fuck into him again like Bill could make Dipper a mess just with his hand. 

Which he is, the asshole. Because it is good. Really good. A firm pressure and a repeating touch, sending a throb of pleasure each time, and making precome drip from Dipper’s dick. Withdrawing, then returning with a hard push, in and out, a burst of pleasure only to deny it again. Slow, then fast. A quick slide and a long press that makes Dipper see stars in his vision, only to pull back out. It’s Bill, curling his fingers in the way that makes Dipper arch up and moan - then suddenly leaving him empty and nearly gasping.

Dipper can’t - His teeth are gritted, he doesn't want to sound so needy - but he whines, and doesn’t choke it back.

“Look at you. So responsive! You must have really missed me, huh?” Bill sounds delighted.  Adding a third finger - and this time Dipper couldn’t cover the whimper he makes even if he wanted to. “It’s adorable.” 

God, everything he’s doing is teasing. Deliberately not-quite-enough, on purpose. Keeping up that low, intense pressure without letting Dipper come, just driving him close to the edge and backing off like a bastard.

“It’d be easy to make you come like this.” Bill kisses down Dipper’s dick, then. Licking up the length with a wet sound that makes it jump under his tongue. He kisses the head with a smirk - “Could be fun to make you lose it.”

He could, he really could. His tongue on Dipper’s dick and his fingers inside - Dipper strains against the leash, swearing under his breath. It would be good, sure - but he wants to reach down. Make Bill do more. To stop the teasing and taunting, treat him rougher, and he ends up blurting, “Don’t.”

“Oh?” Bill curls his fingers; a firm shock of pressure, and the heel of his hand nudging his balls. Spreading wide inside him for an aching stretch.“Then why’d you call me here?”

“Because I wanted it.” Dipper says, out loud. Speaking is the only way to get Bill to move on, and it’s easier to ignore the embarrassment, when the burn of needing to come is so much more. Bill licks his lips, anticipatory - and Dipper admits, “I wanted you to fuck me.”

All he gets is Bill’s fingers withdrawing and that sucks. Dipper whines, teeth bared. Now he feels empty and urgent and Bill’s not touching him, the jerk.

“Well, why didn’t you say so!”  Bill shuffles his pants down, stroking another palmful of lube over himself, a little faster than usual.  “Not a problem. In fact,” He pushes Dipper’s legs further up, and winks. “It’d be my pleasure.” 

Dipper slumps. He goes with Bill’s positioning, rude and insistent, letting himself be pliable this time. Though he feels empty, he knows that won’t last, and he’ll have what he wants.

Finally. 

Bill rubs the head of his cock against Dipper, smugly enough to make Dipper swear - then laughing. Holding himself steady, and pushing in, just enough for Dipper to feel the slight jolt as the head enters - then withdraws again, tapping against him. A motion that doesn’t have any intent of really going for it -

Frustrated, Dipper tries hauling Bill in with his legs - for a moment, thinks he’s succeeded -  but Bill’s cock slips away to rest against him, brushing against Dipper’s own. It leaves Bill cackling with amusement; Dipper wants to swat him, or maybe kiss him. Since he can’t do either, he tugs at the leash again. “Bill.” 

“Gotta take my time, kid!” No remorse; the torturous bastard leans over him, and guides himself in, with a low, lingering stretch, one Dipper knows so well, heavy and hard inside.. Bill surges forward, fully seated and Dipper has to gasp, back arching -  “You’re always.” He shuts his eye, a brief flicker as his hips rock in. “So tight for me.” 

“Hn.” With nothing to protest, Dipper nods instead, rapid and eager. Bill’s cock hits just the right places, Dipper can’t help but move into it. Arching up, pushing his. his hips into that filling weight, feeling Bill fucking into him, deeper and so much that Dipper has to yank at his restraints - “You’re just. Too big.”

“So that’s what you were thinking about,” Bill hisses. There’s a throb inside, a surge forward that makes Dipper gasp, open his eyes. Seeing Bill’s own eye alight, glowing gold. The weight of his presence and his quickening pace makes Dipper want to grab at him, anything to get him closer. “That’s what gets you off.”

“Yeah.” Mostly what Dipper was imagining, but not quite - and shit, he should just say it. He could come like this, it’s good, it’s great, but Bill’s not quite putting his back into it the way Dipper would really like. If he’d do a little more, he could almost -  “Like. I wanted it and. I didn’t have to say it, you just.” He shuts his eyes, thinking about half-remembered sessions alone - “Come over and have me, because you want me.” He takes a shaking breath, Bill’s hands are suddenly tight on his hips - “‘Cause I feel too good.”

Bill swears, loud and urgent - and the next snap of his hips makes Dipper strain against his bonds. That’s it. Strong and demanding, and rough, he missed it. 

“You got that part right.” Bill breathy, his tongue flickering over his lips. He adds another startling pinch to a nipple that thrums down Dipper’s body, electric pleasure. “I’ll take everything I want from you.” A violent thrust, Bill’s breath hitching as Dipper moans -  loud enough to make him want to cringe -  but must Bill like it, because his voice lowers into a growl. “Have my way with you. Make you come on my cock.”

If he keeps this up. If Bill puts his back into it, Dipper would, definitely, it’s already a lot and nearly enough -

“Yes. Please.” Now that he’s started he can’t seem to shut his mouth. Thinking about Bill, shoving him down, or up against a wall, giving Dipper what he wants and then -  “And you’ll come in me. So much.” Dipper blurts, and hears Bill suck in a sudden breath. “You always - I really like it.”

Bill slows; he nearly stills in place. Dipper can see his chest heaving, his eye bright - Then he captures Dipper’s face with both hands, pulling him in for a kiss. 

Dipper opens up for it, groaning into it. Wanting to draw his arms down around the back of Bill’s neck. Since that’s impossible, he kisses back. Trying to tell Bill how much he needs this, with just his mouth.

Until this bastard, this asshole. This absolute monster, pulls away and out. 

Dipper nearly kicks him. He definitely swears. He needs to come and Bill’s being twice the bastard than usual; he tries to get a hold of his dick, but he’s trapped, left to writhe, helpless, with Bill staring down at him.

Bill shuffles out of his pants, unbuttoning his shirt. Looming over Dipper again, with his bare chest almost distracting from that horrible wide smile. So close, but so far away, unable to be touched - 

“Glad to hear it, kid,” Bill purrs, low and pleased. Jerking himself off again, quicker than before, his grip tight. “‘Cause I’ve been thinking about that all day.” 

Dipper’s eyes widen  - oh, he’s really going to -

And Bill slides inside again, the pressure heavy inside. Dipper groans at the return. Only one thrust, though. A brief second, Bill’s hips tight against his own -  then, fuck, Bill’s coming. Unmistakable, making Dipper whine between his teeth, muscles tensing. Watching the  flutter of Bill’s eyelashes, feeling his thick cock pulsing and the heat inside. And Dipper wants to match that pleasure, touch himself as well, get off, but Bill won’t let him. This is unfair. 

“How’s that feel, kid?” Bill asks, squeezing Dipper’s thighs for a moment, before he grasps Dipper’s dick and jerks it, with quick, effective motions. “Having demon come inside you.” 

Making words is a struggle, so Dipper simply nods again. Face burning, arms pressed together. He can feel it hot and deep inside and fuck, he does like it, he can’t hold Bill in place forever with his legs but he wants to keep as much as he can. Knowing how it means Bill wants him. How much he can make Bill feel good, and having the proof, right there.

Bill pulls out again, after a few slow thrusts, gazing down with a smug, satisfied look that Dipper wishes he was wearing. He wants Bill to come back. For him to fuck him, he’s left Dipper bereft and empty, with an aching throb between his legs. With urgency fading, and the pleasure dropping from the peak, it’s going to be a while before he gets to feel the same way. Building things back up is going to take so long.

Then Dipper’s arms are freed, and he’s hauled up to sit by the tight grip on the leash. The relief of that tension, at least, is something. Dipper rubs his wrists, blinking back at Bill. What -? 

The next tug forces Dipper up to his knees, and Bill draws him in for a kiss, free hand buried in Dipper’s hair. Dipper responds as best he can. Would love to grab Bill back, in the same way -  but his arms are shaking. He settles for touching Bill’s chest instead, in slow petting motions.

Bill makes a pleased sound, drawing back with a smile. “You like it better when I fuck you?” He prompts, shifting behind Dipper to grab his chin, tilting his head back. A firm thumb runs over Dipper’s bottom lip. “Or when I take your pretty little mouth?”

Which is - Dipper doesn’t know. He wishes he could think straight, but most of his thoughts are drawn to the unfulfilled throb in his groin. He likes taking Bill in his mouth, likes what Bill does to him in bed, all of it, he couldn’t choose - “I…  don’t know.”

“Eh, that’s fair! I couldn’t pick a favorite either.” Bill pats Dipper’s hip, drawing him in until his back is pressed against his chest. “It’s all fun.”

Then Dipper’s wheeled around, quick enough to be startling. Behind him, Bill settles down comfortably, drawing Dipper fully into his lap. 

It’s a comfortable enough position. Dipper even hears a soft ‘thump’ as Bill drops back against something soft. Likely he’s conjured another pillow pile, or something other surface to relax against. All cozy enough that Dipper would normally lean back with him, tuck Bill’s arms around him, and wriggle in an interesting way that might get him to help. 

Instead, he stares ahead for a long few seconds - then scrambles at the sheets in surprise. 

So much for the headboard. Bill’s taken a new tactic, thrown in a new addition. In this case, a very reflective one.

Dipper guesses the ‘show’ isn’t over. 

He blinks - his reflection blinks back at him - and Dipper’s suddenly nervous. He can’t back up, it only puts him further into  Bill’s grasp. “What-” 

“What a sight.” Bill sighs, sounding very, very pleased with himself. He grabs Dipper’s thighs, parting and squeezing them. “One of my favorites, honestly.”

The ‘sight’ is. Something.

Dipper stares at himself in the mirror. God, he looks like a total mess. Face red, marks from Bill’s mouth, hair disheveled - ‘fucked’ would be a good description, in multiple senses - And there’s Bill, sitting behind him with a smug, pleased grin. Dipper meets his gaze in the reflection momentarily -  then jerks his head away. He can’t look at this, it’s not -

“And why wouldn’t it be?” Bill continues. His breath is hot against Dipper’s neck, hands slipping around and under Dipper’s thighs - “When I get to see this.”

When Bill pulls his legs up, Dipper squirms - hard not to, he’s flexible but still, rude - and tenses at the sight. Bill’s a pervert, of course he likes staring at this, but Dipper can’t just. Look at what Bill’s done to him. Not without feeling a burn of shame and arousal curling in his stomach. Bill’s come has slightly spilled, wet on his thigh, dick still standing up, so obvious that he’s been taken and fucked, that he’s let himself be used, and behind him Bill’s practically gloating at how thoroughly he’s left his mark.

“I see you’re a fan as well!” Bill sounds all too chipper. He shifts slightly, nuzzling against Dipper’s shoulder. “You got good taste, kid.”

This jerk. Dipper’s brief attempt at glaring at him  means he catches sight of himself in the mirror. With his traitorous dick leaking a bead of precome, and his face so red, he looks like he’s sunburnt. 

“Y’know, I’d say how much I love fucking you, but eh. You won’t take my word for it. You’re a guy who loves having proof.”  Bill’s voice lowers, as he leans further back - “Good thing I left you plenty.”

Dipper glances at their reflection again, grimacing - then does a double-take. Because Bill’s cock has risen with interest again, nearly covering Dipper’s own embarrassing sight. And well. He’s only human. He might look a little bit longer at that. 

“You want another round?” Bill asks, almost nonchalantly, all-too innocent. Fuck, yes, of course Dipper does, he doesn’t know why Bill asked -  “You wanna come on my cock?” Dipper nods again; he swallows. Yes, he really does, he’s aching and empty and been left hanging - And Bill laughs.  “Then go ahead, sapling.” Voice lowered, deeply amused. “Put it in.”

Bill’s really going to make him - Dipper slumps a little, realizing that of course he is. Bill’s not in position to do it himself, and it’d be stupid to let him just poke around and hope it found its mark. If Dipper wants -  then he’ll have to - 

Dipper hesitates, then reaches down to get Bill into position. Hard and throbbing in his grip. Strokes it once, just to feel it, and hear Bill moan. Teamwork is rare, but as Bill lowers him slowly, Dipper adjusts his hips and holds him steady. 

The blunt head of Bill’s cock pops in easily; Dipper draws his hands back up. Glancing, inevitably, at his reflection.. He already knew Bill was impressive, he’s handled it hundreds of times. Watching is different.

The very sight of Bill’s cock entering looks so much more impossible than it is. Like it shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Dipper’s own cock twitches and he takes a quick breath, watching as Bill slides him down his length, inch by inch.

“That’s it. So ready for me.” Bill moves his hips in slow motions, small, teasing thrusts. A slow push-pull that makes Dipper want to slap his hands away and sit down, take the rest in already. With Bill holding him, all he can do is watch. As Bill guides it in, then draws back, nearly popping out before making him take more, and Dipper can see the length of his cock streaked with white from his previous release.  “Good boy.”

Dipper nearly shoves a hand into his mouth - no, he’s not supposed to cover the sound - then grips tight at the sheets instead. Shit, those words shouldn’t affect him this much, but they sound really good. Or maybe it’s the way Bill finally sets Dipper in his lap, fully seated, and lets go of his legs. One of the two leaves Dipper shaking, and pushing against that heavy length inside.

“Feel that?” Bill pushes his hips up, and Dipper whimpers. Being so full, so completely taken, he can feel it inside and it’s so much, enough to almost make him lose it- “You got all of it in, kid.”

Bill adds a particularly vicious thrust behind the words. No hesitation, no gentleness, and Dipper braces himself, getting his legs under him. Because he can take it, he wants to - and joke is on Bill; he has no idea what he makes Dipper feel. Why he asked for him. Why he thinks of him when he jerks off, and why he wants this, exactly this; Bill inside him, treating him roughly, it’s going to make him - 

Dipper’s aware he’s talking, this time. Making sounds, and words, both too loud and too embarrassing- but Bill got him started on it and now he can’t stop. A meaningless ramble, total nonsense about how it’s good, how he likes it, urging Bill to fuck him, no harder, all in a stream of thought that he can’t stop, even though his face burns.

Which Bill really likes.. Even his rhythm occasionally stutters. Like he can’t help but move when Dipper says something he truly likes, and that seems like every other word, with his touch constantly roving. Straying from Dipper’s hips, just to grope at his chest or his stomach or legs.

“You want it so bad. Like you were made for me.” Bill growls, finally setting his grip on Dipper’s waist, leaning back more to jerk up into him -  “Have you any time I want. My own personal slut.” Bill’s not only fucking up into him, he’s now holding Dipper tight, strong arms lifting and shoving him down, ; it takes everything to try and match his pace - “A perfect little toy.”

And Dipper would let Bill have him, like it if Bill took him, whenever. He could be trying to make notes at his desk and Bill would walk up and shove him down, taking him just because he wanted to, or was bored; make him kneel and suck his cock, heavy in his mouth - or sit in his lap, feeling Bill staying hard inside, impossible and inhuman, waiting for Dipper to be ready to get fucked again, fill him up with every load of come Bill has, over and over - Bill’s touching his dick, but he barely needs to stroke twice before Dipper’s coming in and over his hand. 

Behind him, Bill swears again, long and loud. Then he’s coming again, his chest heaving and his cock pulsing inside. Dipper pushes into it with a few nudges of his hips.

They sit there for a moment. Both catching their breath Dipper lets his head loll back. god he needed that.

Getting up should probably. Be one at some point. But Bill’s still petting his sides, and his legs feel like jelly. 

Lesson learned: Calling Bill over for this. For, essentially, a booty call, was a fantastic idea. No need to doubt it, it’s quick and effective and great. Absolutely the right choice. 

Cuddling like this is nice, but with the pleasure faded it’s. Vaguely sticky. Dipper shifts a bit, trying to get up the urge to move - but Bill takes the initiative, and Dipper lets out a little ‘mh’ as he’s lifted up and plopped on his side onto the mattress. The gesture’s oddly disappointing - 

“Ugh,” Bill groans, and follows a moment later. He tucks an arm under Dipper’s head, another pats his hip. “Y’know, I used to hear all the time about how getting hitched really killed the bedroom stuff.” His fingers idly trace nonsense patterns on Dipper’s side, over his stomach. “No idea what they were on about.”

Dipper huffs out a little laugh. Figures that Bill would pick up on that cliche, over all the time he’s been around. One even Dipper’s heard of, for that matter. 

All he can do is shrug. “They must be doing it wrong.” Dipper suggests. Behind him, Bill hums in agreement.

Not that Dipper really knows much about how other people go about their relationships; he’s only had the one himself. Plus, well, demon involvement, that always complicates things. Especially a marriage so strange and unnerving. Complicated, and weird, unexpected in some ways, a billion things. Something neither of the people actually in the damn thing have completely figured out.

Though Dipper can’t deny that it’s very functional. 

He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

When Bill nuzzles into his hair, Dipper takes his hand in his own. Holding it up against his chest, where Bill can feel the beating of his own heart. And because Bill is a jerk, he takes that chance to sneakily pinch a nipple again. Which leads to the predictable bickering, though it’s a little calmer than usual.

Eventually, it kind of just. Trails off. Dipper guesses they’re both too pleased to put real effort in, even for appearances. With a sigh, he rolls onto his back and stretches. Feeling a lingering ache, but mostly relaxed - and Bill’s warmth, so close, is adding to the latter. Plus, everything that Bill’s done to him. Even now, he feels a bit tingly from all the touch.

After a moment, he reaches up to the collar, lazily searching for the clasp.

“Hmmm.” Bill props himself up on one elbow, narrows his eye, and catches Dipper’s hand with his own. He draws it away from the collar, interlacing their fingers with a grin. “Not just yet.”

Oh. Surprising, but not unpleasantly so. Dipper glances down, then back up again. He gives Bill’s hand a squeeze, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Ahem.” Bill rises up, smacking a palm on his chest with pride. “You summoned me, sapling. Trust the contractor you contacted! I’m a real expert in this stuff, ya dig?”  He leans over Dipper, planting a kiss on his chest, then his shoulder. “And I don’t think you’re gonna be satisfied with just one.” 

Dipper swallows. Right now he’s doing just fine. Relaxed, a little achy, and satisfied. But. 

Okay, Bill does have a point; he was in a particular mood earlier. One that’s not completely gone. Even the suggestion has sort of exacerbated the problem.

Though he’d be an idiot not to make it a little tough for him. Just for kicks. 

“I summoned you for one thing,” Dipper retorts. He swats his husband on the top of the head, then squirms a little, like he’s about to wriggle out of his grasp. Predictably, Bill reacts by grabbing onto tighter. “You can’t change the deal now.” 

“Ha! Didn’t prepare for a double-cross, didja?” Bill draws him back down, looming once more. Pressing Dipper’s shoulders into the bed and grinning, white and wild. He clicks his tongue. “Classic rookie error.” 

“You monster.” Dipper presses the back of one hand to his forehead, turning his head to the side - and watches Bill’s shoulders shake with repressed laughter.  “I’ll need a minute, though.” Some people have a refractory period, for crying out loud.

“Sure, no problem! The night is young, so are you, and best of all,” Bill says, cheerful enough. He smacks another kiss on Dipper’s forehead, stroking his sides in a not-at-all subtly possessive gesture. He throws in a wink.  “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

Arrogant ass. Taking charge of things is par for the course, but now Bill’s acting like this was his idea. 

Fine, let him have it. It’s nothing but a pretense, anyway. Dipper rolls his eyes.

They both know who really had the clever idea this time. 

Though he does surge up, arms around Bill’s neck, to drag him in for a kiss. “Right back at you.”

[sylvies-chen]

okay I’ve refrained from posting my thoughts on the ted lasso finale until now in the interest of making sure they’re expressed properly so that people understand how correct my opinions actually are. but I’m here and I’m queer and LET’S DO IT FOLKS:

TED LASSO FINALE THOUGHTS

THE GOOD:

Nate!! Nate was a timid, sweet note in this episode. It was such a gentle little reintegration of his character back into the team and seeing him get a secure happy ending after all that time of insecurity was the part of the episode that provided the MOST payoff. Seeing Nick Mohammed’s post about Nate and his family life and understanding how much he put into that character was so beautiful to see too. I adore actors who very publicly (and in a nerdy way) love their craft!

His conversation with Ted also made me cry like I have never cried before.

COLIN KISSED HIS FELLA AFTER A WIN!! Ugh such a beautiful payoff and full circle moment for him, I was truly squealing with joy <3

The team’s rendition of So Long, Farewell had me GIGGLINGGG oh my god, I’m a die hard Sound of Music fan so I loved it! I would have maybe liked a little more emotion from Ted, I felt like his reaction was kind of… meh? meek? but other than that the song itself was FANTASTIC.

Obviously I love that they won the game, duh

They also had a lot of really amazing and thoughtful callbacks in this episode, like Keeley’s parallel to her entrance in the pilot was great, Ted’s bbq sauce mantra, Nate leaping into Ted’s arms, the ussie guy, the winning play being the play from season 1. All of those little moments showed a strong attention to detail I truly loved.

I love that Rupert made HIMSELF unlikeable in the end. Rebecca didn’t need to ruin his life; she stopped caring and soon saw he was doing a perfectly fine job of doing it himself. Karma truly is Rebecca Welton’s boyfriend!! Or is it?

Jake the motherfucking client seducer over here turning out to be a total dud like yesss!! I don’t want Ted and Michele back together by any means but fuck that guy lol, glad to see she and Henry were getting sick of him

BELIEVE. 😭

Which leads me to…

THE BAD:

I know you all know I ship Tedbecca, but this is truly not coming from a shipper standpoint when I say that that first scene of them was absolute BAIT. It was pretty disappointing because I know Ted Lasso’s been prone to red herrings and fakeouts every now and then but I didn’t take it as a show that would truly bait their fans with something like that??

I don’t care if I’m biased, I don’t care if the writers were trying to be avant-garde with their ending for rebecca, I’ll say what I’m about to say a million times: writing off 1 of your 2 most main characters into a happy ending with a man whose name the audience doesn’t even know is literally never a good writing decision. I think this should be obvious.

I have no hate to Boat Guy, Rebecca’s whole thing with him was basically the plot of Before Sunrise + Before Sunset (all hail Richard Lanklater) if someone watched those movies and then tried condensing them into fifteen accumulated minutes of television

Keeley, Roy, Jamie… they did you three so fucking dirty my babes. Keeley you especially. I’m beyond disappointed, bordering on genuinely hurt, by how much they screwed up Keeley and all of her adjacent storylines this season.

I loved RoyKeeley so much in seasons 1 and 2, they had such a sweetness and a magic to them. There were so many elements like that to season 1 and 2 that I feel the writers gave up on in the name of growth or… honestly, at this point, I don’t know why they did this. Roy was a little insecure in seasons 1 and 2, but I never felt like he was needy. It felt so cruel to have shown us RoyKeeley in all of these moments of such stability, such healthiness, and such genuine love for so long and then rip it away for some version of Roy Kent that felt hollow, twisted, and who just Did Not Get It. It makes me so sad.

It makes me sad for Jamie too. Him falling for Keeley again was like the last thing I needed to see from his character. There’s so much else they could have done with him, and instead they took that beautiful moment of him being accountable and respectful with Keeley and the tape, and they turned it into something ugly: they had him weaponize it as a bargaining chip against Roy.

I don’t understand why they thought having our favs engaged in this very sexist outdated convo with such possessive language in the name of comedy was a good idea. I get it was poking fun at them but it was the kind of fun that shouldn’t have to be poked at by now. They’re not these men, I don’t recognize this version of them. It’s such a regression.

speaking of weird and uncomfortable shit being played off for laughs… beard and jane got married! ted wasn’t even there! she shredded his passport to keep him in captivity! how creepy! (see the joke is that they’re crazy and do toxic things to each other. you’re supposed to laugh.)

[zodiactalks]

These Zodiac Signs get Really SCARY when MAD

It isn’t fun to be on the opposite side of someone’s anger. It feels awful to be the target of a friend or family's ire. Even a stranger can cause people to shrink if they are sensitive.

It can be easy to brush off certain people when they are mad. They are all bark and no bite. Then there are the ones who will take action on their anger.

There are a couple of zodiac signs who are downright terrifying when they are truly angry. Don’t make them mad, you don’t want to be the focus of their anger.

Let’s take a look at the zodiac signs who get really scary when they are mad.

#1. Capricorn

Capricorn is known for their vindictive nature when they are wronged. 

It can take a while for Capricorn to truly reach their limit and become wrathful. But when they do, they are out for revenge. 

All bets are off the table and Capricorn will get as low as they have to, to get back at someone. If harsh words had no effect, they can find themselves turning toward sabotage.

It could be they are catfishing the person online or spreading rumors to ruin their reputation. Capricorn wants to see the person's downfall.

If they aren’t first in line to watch the world burn, they won’t feel satisfied with their revenge.

#2. Taurus

Taurus is known for their explosive rage.

Taurus has an extremely long fuse, but everyone has their limits. When Taurus has finally been pushed too far, they can use all of their knowledge of a person to verbally thrash them.

It hurts more than expected because nothing Taurus will throw at them will be a lie. Every single word will hit on the person's deepest insecurities with sharp accuracy. 

Taurus is usually a safe person to talk to about sensitive subjects. But if they are pushed to the point of rage at others, everything ever said to them becomes a weapon. And they are a master of wielding it. 

Now, Taurus doesn’t enjoy having these violent reactions. This is why they take so long to explode. They know they can destroy other people's self-esteem by exposing them. 

But sometimes, someone deserves it. And when they push Taurus too far, they will get what’s coming to them.

#3. Scorpio

Scorpio is known for their unforgiving nature. 

Once someone has wronged Scorpio, it can never be taken back or remedied. What’s done is done, and now Scorpio is an enemy. 

Scorpio has very little patience when it comes to being targeted by others. Passive-aggressive jabs will be met with head-on hostility from Scorpio. They don’t have time or interest in playing behind-the-scenes games with people.

If someone has an issue with Scorpio, they should just say it. Forcing them into a cat and mouse game will not end well. 

Scorpio may decide to get physically violent or scheme revenge plots. It depends on if they decide the source of their anger is worth it or not.

Scorpio can hold grudges from childhood to their grave. 

#4. Cancer

Cancer is known for their hot and cold nature.

It is easy to spot an angry Cancer. They will embody the phrase “like a walking storm.” Everyone around Cancer can feel it.

Whether Cancer is angry at a specific person or a situation, their reaction can be hard to predict. 

One moment they are giving others the cold shoulder, the next they could be flinging an object to the floor because it kept falling over.

It’s not out of the question that they cried out of anger in the bathroom before returning to work. 

It is extremely hard to pick the best way to support an angry Cancer at any given moment. Best to let them know someone has their back and wait for them to come to you.

#5. Sagittarius

Sagittarius is known for their live and let live attitude. Until they are royally done.

Already a blunt person, Sagittarius can use their words as a bludgeon when they want to. It isn’t in their nature to intentionally hurt others. But when they want to, boy, it is effective.

When Sagittarius snaps, they will verbally rip the other person apart. In public. 

It takes a special kind of person to push Sagittarius over the edge. Usually when they’ve been relentlessly targeting a friend of Sagittarius. 

Sagittarius is an extremely protective friend and can become surprisingly scary when they are angered. 

Not only will Sagittarius become verbally anger they will also commit a crime without a second thought if their friend asks. 

Sagittarius isn’t all that worried when someone comes at them, but for their friends, they will go to jail. 

[askew-d]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "askew-d "?

hello, there! sorry for the long wait, i forgot to check my notifs :( i will do better next time. thank you for this question! i feel like i’ve waited ages for someone to ask me exactly that, lol. i could talk about well-written fanfics forever!! can i give you a hug? because this is wonderful, really.

let’s go for it! my range of fanfiction that i enjoy vary, but one thing remains: i will adore your fic, no matter the fandom, if it’s written with passion and if it contains good, poetic introspection. i love poetry. for me, if there’s melancholic tropes of any kind i’m into it. immortal character and reincarnation? give me now. supernatural elements or slice of life with doomed narrative? i’ll ignore sleep to read it. angst with happy ending? my endgame, for sure.

however, i also adore silly, comedic, cute pieces of domestic life or otherwise. i had a hard time choosing from my bookmarks for this, and i also reviewed some of my favorites, it was fun. before we continue, here are some of the tags that i don’t dive into for whatever reason: porn without plot (it personally just doesn’t interest me at all), non-con, gore, a/b/o dynamics, soulmates au. sorry if you were hoping for it! i’ll try classify them into an order of what i like most.

1. jellyfish, by mystery twin, for the haikyuu!! fandom — i read this when i was finishing high school and coincidentally the story talks about finishing high school! i have a personal attachment that makes me reread it every year. it’s some sort of tradition at this point. not to mention i love kagehina dearly.

2. teen project to change the world, by animeloverhomura, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — respectfully speaking, i would find this author and give them a big hug. their writing is spetacular! if you've never seen this one and you're into mdzs, know it's a story where the characters get to see every event from the novel and donghua, even the dead characters. they watch wei wuxian journey, can you believe it? so goddamn entertaining. promptly waiting for the next update!

3. a hundred or so hellos, by iwillstillopenthewindow, for the haikyuu!! fandom — remember i said i love melancholic stories? well, this one broke me so hard, i had to mention how i hold it with tenderness (we love things that breaks us, dont we?). this fandom manages to write the cutest, most unhinged things sometimes. even it's an anime about sports. i always get amazed by it.

4. no certainty of doors between us, by betts, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — certainly the most silly little fanfic i've ever seen, it's hilariously sweet. i want everyone to read this masterpiece because, seriously, whoever did this deserves only the best. so, so, cute. it had to be in my top 10!

5. their kindred encounters, by fireflavoredwhiskey, for the untamed rpf fandom (bjyx) — you know those kinds of shows, books, any piece of media, that tears up apart? well, this one was it for me. it's a very famous one that deserves all praise, certainly well-written and enjoyable to the core, with doses of angst, romance and beauty overall.

6. as the clouds part and clear, we finally meet again, by 12262325, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — aaaaa, i was truly torn between putting this in the third or fourth place, but i ended up putting it here. come on, i love an age difference kind of story, especially for wangxian, and this one was perfectly done. sweet and funny. the development? the yearning?? outstanding!! i read this many times already, i'll never get tired.

7. pursuit, by emleewrites, for the haikyuu!! fandom — mystery, romance, lawsuits, poker games, adventure, slice of life, AMAZING depictions and so, so goddamn well-written? that's what you're looking for in any fanfiction. the author dedicated herself entirely for this story, and, like i said, i love stories that are written with passion, you can see it pouring through every paragraph. besides, highly entertaining. i'm not very into long fics, but once i started it off, i couldn't stop. that's how addicting it is.

8. linger by the door (i’ve always been yours), by piecrust, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — epistolary?? have i mentioned how i love it?? some of the phrases in this are gold, in my bookmarks you can check some of them (i ought to make a list of my favorite fic quotes, btw, i will sure do it). through each letter i could comprehend more of wei wuxian's feelings and his internal conflict. i love feeling this connected to a character.

9. all the world is ours to take, by khrys, for the fugou keiji fandom — i have more than one favorite fanfiction for this couple. you know these kinds of developing relationship where the transition from (maybe enemies too) friends to lovers happens so smoothly that it feels like they've been soulmates first and foremost at the end? i don't even know how to explain. i just love how, when they finally are together, it's like they've been together for years. and they just... made it official? i like it. i love my mr. kambe haru.

10. he won’t tell you that he loves you, by hellshandbasket, for the house m.d fandom — i found this to be the most fitting, perfect story for this specific couple. they deserved more stories like this, but we dont see it anymore. i would hightlight the feelings realization in this one, that is so fucking real? haha in any case, it's a fanfic that i enjoyed a great deal.

that's it, i guess! i wanted to add link click fanfics also, however i barely started reading fanfictions from its fandom, i'm drowning in it lately but it's just a start. perhaps very sooon!

oh, i’m gonna finish explaining about the name! in my native language, i’ve heard someone tell me before that ‘life’s a little askew, nothing’s ever perfect’, and that quote remained in every biography of any english website i ever went to. then in literature class someday i had to write about historical women and came across this one named anne askew (i wanted to write about the mostly barely-spoken women). it was the second time i saw this word. i didn’t think of it as a proper name before, but then i had to create a nickname for my ao3 profile and thought, humn, why not just ‘askew’? the quote has been engraved in my heart anyway, so i went for it. we’re all flawed and askew. so, yeah, it just… fit? the ‘d’ here on tumblr it’s only because my surname has a ‘de morais’ in it. i also liked that it resembled ‘alaska’, the john green character i was kinda of obsessed with back in my teenager grunge phase. i don’t like these kinds of books anymore, but i guess some details stay with you. do you think it’s weird? never thought of changing.

thanks for this outstanding ask, it certainly entertained me. and hope you have a nice sleep today, big hugs coming your way! 🤍

[murkycran]

Human!Dreamling AU

Hob is a former soldier turned history professor (original, I know)

Dream is a successful author; he writes under the pseudonym of Morpheus because he likes his privacy

Dream starts sitting in on Hob’s history classes because he’s doing research for his next book

Which would fine and all, if only 1) he had bothered to tell Hob that rather than just showing up one day, and 2) he wasn’t so distracting for the actual students in the class

As it is, Dream just starts showing up after class one day and Hob is like “um?? Can I help you???”

Dream: “your Department Chair said I could be here”

Hob: “well no one told ME that”

It starts off a bit contentious; Dream refuses to tell Hob what he’s writing about, just asks vague questions, and his attitude makes Hob feel inferior or like he’s being judged

In truth Dream is just an awkward idiot who has a hard time talking to people, hence the need for writing under a pseudonym and saving his privacy

Hob, finally reaching his limit with feeling like he’s being judged and deemed inadequate, asks why Dream doesn’t just sit in with the other history professors

Dream, getting huffy and defensive, says “my sister praised your passion and depth of knowledge in your field, but if you truly find me so bothersome, I’ll find someone else”

Hob: “sorry, did you say sister?”

Hob served in the army with Death, who was a combat medic

Death and Hob kept in touch after being discharged from the army, but they both kind of got busy with life and only occasionally saw each other on social media

While Hob went on to get his degree in history and teach, Death got her PhD in medicine and opened her own practice

When Dream complained about needing to do some research on an era of history for his next book to Death, she suggested Hob and talked about how good of a teacher he was. So Dream pulled some strings and got permission from the Department Chair to sit in on Hob’s classes.

Hob is a little embarrassed - he considers himself a pretty average professor and doesn’t have the same years of experience as some of the other professors - but feels honored that Death recommended him so highly

Ofc before he can actually say anything like that, Dream leaves because he’s Offended and needs to sulk

Feeling a little bad about how they parted (only a little bc Dream can be an ass when he wants to be), Hob reaches out to Death again and tells her about it. She’s pretty much like “sigh yeah that’s Dream for you, dw I’ll talk to him”

Cue her calling Dream and calling him an idiot and telling him he needs to use his words more rather than expecting everyone to simply accommodate him.

Death uses Older Sister Voice to strike a blow!! Dream sulks about it some more but realizes she’s right and shows up to the next class Hob is teaching

He doesn’t really apologize but he does say he overreacted; Hob DOES apologize for misjudging Dream, however. He’s still willing to give Dream a shot now that he knows Death specifically recommended him to Dream

Hob tried to ask Dream about the books he’s written before but Dream Will Not tell him what his pen name is; hob also tries to ask what the current book is about, and Dream still won’t talk about it

This is all frustrating to Hob, bc if he knew even what genre Dream was writing he could probably help more than by just giving a basic history lesson. He could be specific about what he tells Dream, give plot relevant info, etc etc.

Dream dgaf tho and plays it all close to the vest bc he doesn’t want someone ‘interfering’ with his writing process. It irks Hob, but he comes to see it as a game, trying to figure out Dream’s pseudonym from little clues in their conversations.

Leading to not only many more classes where Dream shows up (Hob’s students are INTRIGUED bc who is this man randomly hanging around our professor?), but also some one on one meetings either at Hob’s office or at the New Inn over drinks. Dream even offers to pay Hob, but Hob insists he just pay for the drinks when they go out, bc he sees his talks with Dream as a favor to his Death, who saved his life more than once out in the field

What started as a rough partnership evolves into a comfortable friendship over months, as their meetings eventually start to progress past just talking about history to other topics. They get to know each other outside the original context of their meetings by talking about things that, yknow, friends talk about. Food, hobbies, family, past experiences, etc.

I think the tipping point for Hob realizing he’s got a crush on Dream would be him coming into the university building where he teaches one day and seeing Dream talking to another professor.

All the social studies and liberal arts are taught in the same building. Dream showed up early for Hob’s class bc he thought he heard a different professor reciting Shakespeare to their class once. He likes Shakespeare ofc so he thought he’d show up a little early to listen to the Shakespeare class out of curiosity. He ends up in a discussion after the class ends with the professor. The professor, named Will (bc I think I’m hilarious), is an English professor who teaches a class on Shakespearean Literature to third and fourth year students.

On his way to his own class, Hob sees the two of them talking after the Shakespeare class ends, and feels a little weird about it but he has a class to teach so he ignores it

Or at least he tries to. The feeling grows when his class starts and Dream is nowhere to be seen for at least the first 30 min of class. When Dream finally does come in, it’s the latest he’s ever arrived and it bugs tf out of Hob so much he tells Dream after class that they can’t meet that day bc there’s a faculty meeting that Hob forgot about.

Dream is a little surprised and disappointed, but is okay with putting their meeting off for another day. After he leaves, Hob finds himself wondering exactly why he told Dream they couldn’t meet, bc now that Dream’s gone he regrets lying and just wants Dream to come back. Now irritated with both himself and Will the English professor, Hob goes home for the rest of the day to grade papers. If there’s a little more red on the essays than there normally is, that’s only bc his students had a particularly hard time with the recent unit and not at all bc he’s mad.

Hob doesn’t have any classes the next day, but he does actually have a meeting with the Department Chair about next semester’s classes, so he goes to the university. After his meeting with the Chair, he happens to walk by Will the English professor’s class out of curiosity and sees Dream sitting in the back of the class. Hob gets aggravated all over again, stewing outside the closed classroom door (it’s one of those with the window on the door) and thinking not very nice thoughts about Will the English professor when Dream looks towards him and sees Hob at the door. He looks surprised.

Without even thinking about it Hob automatically leaves bc shit! Dream caught him standing outside the class like a creepy stalker! Fuck. Hob drives all the way home mortified and cursing himself before he realizes he’s blushing all over. Cue the realization that hey maybe this is about more than just his friend becoming friends with Will the English professor.

I have more for this AU, but this post is getting a little long for mobile so I’m cutting it off here (for now…)

Now with a Part 2!