#so its not even like AH MY BILLS

[fandomsandfeminism]

Is there anything worse than the gap of time between submitting an application and hearing back?

[augustinewrites]

your little flower stall is strategically set up a few feet from one of the trendiest restaurants in this area of tokyo. 

it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate when he’s already ten minutes late for his date. he’d quite literally just left work, a last minute meeting having forced him to get ready in the back of his car in his haste to arrive somewhat on time. his shirt is untucked and his pants are wrinkled from being left in the trunk for so long.

he winces when he catches his reflection in a window, running a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. he definitely can’t show up empty handed when he’s late and looking like this. 

“good evening,” he greets, a little breathless as he approaches your stall. his eyes scan the bouquets available, looking for any safe picks and frowning when he realizes you’re out of roses. so he shrugs and picks up whatever’s closest. some kind of yellow flower.

“yellow carnations?” you murmur as he digs into his pocket for his wallet, prompting him to glance up at you. “an odd choice.”

“how do you mean?”

“it’s an unusual choice for a date, is all.” 

he raises his brows. “how do you know they’re for a date?”

“oh, come on,” you grin, leaning against the counter. “a handsome guy like you doesn’t have someone to buy flowers for?”

he knows it’s probably just a marketing pitch, but his ego swells nonetheless. “handsome, huh?” 

you simply shrug - tease - and place the carnations back into their bucket to grab a different bouquet. you cut a strip of white ribbon from its spool, winding it around the stems. “go with these instead. if your date knows anything about flowers, these will definitely get you laid.”

reo actually laughs at that, as he strongly doubts the wannabe influencer he’d been set up with knows much about the meanings of flowers, but he’ll take your word for it. he hands you his card, not-so-secretly hoping that you’d caught a glimpse of his name on its surface before you swiped it through your machine.

when you return it to him, he pulls a handful of bills out of his wallet and stuffs them into your tip jar.

“oh,” you start. “that’s too much–” 

he flashes you a smile that’s been called ‘swoon-worthy’ before, waving you off as he tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “don’t worry about it! you’re saving my life here.” 

“your sex life, you mean?” you quip, but your eyes sparkle at his praise as you hand him the bouquet. “well, thank you for your patronage, sir.” 

he quickly dips his head in thanks, a little reluctant as he heads towards the restaurant. 

_____

monday mornings aren’t especially busy for you, as bleary eyed office workers don’t have much need for flowers. 

which is why you’re surprised when the man from last friday starts approaching your stall, holding a cup of what you assume must be coffee. he doesn’t quite look like you remember, from the impeccable cut of his suit to the way his hair is neatly pulled back. he’s even wearing aviators that you’re sure would look ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason make him look like a movie star. 

he pulls them off with his free hand and hangs them off the pocket of his bag, waving at you like you’re old friends. he looks so earnest and excited that you can’t do much else than blush and raise your hand in response. 

“morning,” he greets once you’re close enough to hear. “this is for you. for last friday. i wasn’t sure what you’d like so i just got their special.” 

he holds out the cup, whose logo you now recognize from the overpriced cafe down the street. you take it, smiling. “i take it your date went well then?”

he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging. “sure.” 

“did you come to buy her more flowers?”

“ah…i don’t think i’ll see her again.” 

you perk up at that. just a little. “oh?” 

“yeah,” he sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “i, uh, kinda wanna see where things go with someone else.” 

oh, of course there’s someone else. a guy like him probably never has a shortage of options. (and who are you not to capitalise on that?) “maybe some flowers will help.” 

you think there’s something mischievous in his smile. “definitely. what do you recommend?”

_____

reo is running out of places to put his flowers. 

they’re all over his office. they line the entirety of his windowsill and take over the free space on his desk. a small clump of white daisies in an old coffee mug. a single rose in his pen cup. his assistant has to crane her head around a vase of lilies to deliver her reports at the end of each day. 

what can he say? you’re one hell of a salesperson. if anyone had asked him what his favourite flower was before, he’d have no idea what to tell them. in truth, he’d never given much thought to something so impermanent as flowers.  

but you easily become a permanent part of his routine. each day he stops at your stall, utilising the information he’d gathered from the internet just moments before to impress you with an educated floral choice. 

you always smile when you hand him the bouquet, and he wonders how your product isn’t sold out at the end of each day, with a smile as enamouring as yours. 

when his office is overrun by floral accents, he starts bringing them home instead. his neighbours gush about what a great boyfriend he is each time they catch him returning with a new arrangement. they say that whoever he’s coming home to must be a ‘very special someone.’

they don’t know that it’s just nagi, who barely looks up from whatever game he’s playing but comments mildly that he didn’t think reo was a flower guy. 

“everyone’s a flower guy,” he’d quipped as he unwrapped the brand new vase he’d bought to accompany the bouquet of peonies and anemones you’d given him. 

and if nagi noticed he’d come home blushing the day you called him your most important customer, he didn’t say anything.

_____

“hey,” he asks on a particularly slow sunday afternoon. you’re in the process of wrapping - by his request - a bundle of lilacs, which happen to be your favourite flower. “come to lunch with me. i can get us a table—” he points to the restaurant behind you. “—there.” 

you don’t answer right away, allowing yourself a moment to make sure you’ve heard him right. “what would your girlfriend think?”

he looks confused as you hold the lilacs out to him. “girlfriend?”

“yeah…isn’t she the one you’ve been buying all these flowers for?”

he blinks a few times before hanging his head with a chuckle. “no i— i don’t have a girlfriend.”

he doesn’t have a girlfriend. so that would mean…

“you’re asking me out,” you realize, averting your gaze to the counter with all the awkwardness of a kid receiving their first valentine. “i’d love to, but i can’t just close—”

“what would you make in a day?” he blurts. “ideally.” 

“well, ideally i’d be sold out—”

he flips his wallet open and hands you his card. “i’ll take everything then.”

“everything?” you echo. 

he shrugs, shooting you a wink. “what can i say? i’m a flower guy.”

“reo,” you laugh, pushing his card back towards him. “i’m not going to let you pay me to go out with you. just go grab some takeout and come back here. a pretty face like yours is bound to sell.” 

“you’re whoring me out for business?” 

“i’m just being entrepreneurial,” you counter. 

he crosses his arms over his chest, a handsome grin on his face. “alright, but i’ll need to be compensated for my efforts. maybe even with a kiss…”

you roll your eyes (albeit with a smile) as you point at the restaurant. “at least buy me lunch first.”

[emphistic]

Interlude

A/N: did i write this in half an hour? yes. am i crazy? of course.

"Ah ah ah. I never said you could leave yet."

You immediately stopped in your tracks upon hearing a familiar deep, raspy voice at your back, coming from the confines of your shared bed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You whipped your head around, and were met with a set of half-lidded eyes in a shade of deep red. Their owner was propped up on one elbow atop the messy sheets, yawning loudly before running his long fingers through his unruly locks.

Sukuna was never a morning person, and his shifts always started later in the afternoon, so he always used it to his advantage.

Blinking once, twice, thrice, as you nervously averted your gaze away from your very enticing boyfriend, who only continued to stare at you sleepily.

The thought of going back to lay in your comfortable, warm bed was already something you wanted to do terribly, but adding Sukuna into the mix, too? This was like trying to drain the sea.

Merely one look at the pink-haired man, who was only covered waist-down by the blankets on his legs, was enough to pull you back beneath the covers and curl into his side.

However, you had already called sick two times in only a fortnight, and those bills were not going to pay themselves.

Unfortunately for you, or not unfortunately, you and Sukuna had been over this many times. Sukuna always told you, "I don't understand why you keep going back to that shitty job anyway. Just let me take care of you back in my place, I provide substantially for the both of us, anyway."

And besides, there really wasn't a way out for you no matter what.

Sukuna had had so many clients back-to-back lately, that he was forced to stay at the tattoo shop for nights on end. On top of that, Choso was unavailable for God knows why, so Sukuna had to fill in for him as well. And if that wasn't enough, sessions would take longer than expected because clients just wouldn't stop flirting with him, moving or twitching, accidentally messing up his work, talking so obnoxiously to the point Sukuna couldn't even pay attention, etc.

Only recently — just the night before, he was finally granted the chance to come home to you.

And you best believe he was going to spend every hour, minute, and second reminding you that you were his, and his only.

Not even your job's employee, apparently. Sorry not sorry.

But, it's not like you wanted to leave him anyway. You had missed Sukuna as much as he had missed you, if not more.

Phone calls while he was on break, sending memes through your text messages, playing together on Game Pigeon, FaceTimes while eating lunch together, were your only escapes from the sad, miserable Adult Life, into just Sukuna and You World.

"Baby, you know I have to. But I'll be back before you know it, okay? And besides, you need the free time. They've been working you nonstop—"

"I'm fine, not even tired. Don't you dare worry your pretty little head about me. As for free time . . ," Sukuna's held a mischievous glint to them, "how about you spend my free time with me?"

You bit your lip, in contemplation. Although you knew, clear as day, what would happen in the end despite everything.

Deciding to make a run for it, you swung your legs over the bed and planted your bare feet on the freezing-cold floor of your apartment. But before you could even stand up, a thick arm swiftly made its way around your waist and pulled you back to meet a hard, bare chest.

Sukuna was now sitting up.

You lightly gasped, as he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

"Don't think you can run away from me just yet, doll. I haven't seen you in days, and I'm not going to be apart from you for another second."

You squirmed in his grasp, but when you realized his strong hold around your middle wasn't going to let up any time soon, you sighed, and, left with no choice, only slumped back against his chest.

Sukuna grinned, victorious, once again.

The rays of the early sun filtered through the cheap window blinds, and you fluttered your eyelashes, squinting to hide away from the inevitable.

"Yeahh," Sukuna laughed, "that's right, princess. Just listen to me from now on."

You frowned, turning your head around to narrow your eyes at Sukuna.

"Now, what can we do with all this free time? I'm thinking we should try something new." Sukuna raised a brow teasingly, twisting your body around and settling you onto his lap with your thighs on either side of his.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mister. I'm only staying for five more minutes," you crossed your arms.

Sukuna placed both of his large hands on your hips; it seemed like that was their default resting spot. Every chance he got, they would always end up there. No matter the setting or occasion.

Sukuna let out a deep laugh, "We'll see about that."

-

"Five minutes? You said? Either way, I don't think you're even able to move your legs at this point and walk out of this room."

"S'kuna, you're—ngh—not funny!" Your nipples hardened, and rubbed raw against the material of your shirt.

You braced yourself by placing both hands on the headboard, but it didn't look like anything could help stable you now.

Sukuna licked a stripe up your dampening clit.

Your situation wasn't looking too good. It didn't help that your asshole of a boss just had to call you right then and there.

[ckret2]

Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.

It goes so great.

As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.

"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.

"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."

"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"

"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"

Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?

Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."

"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."

Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?

####

When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.

"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."

Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."

"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."

"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."

They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—

—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.

"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"

"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"

"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"

Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."

But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."

"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.

Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"

"Yep!"

"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"

"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."

"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.

"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"

"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."

"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."

"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.

Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.

"All of them!"

Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"

"Yep! Every last one!"

"Is the design changing that much?"

"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"

"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"

"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"

"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."

"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."

Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.

He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.

On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?

After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"

"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.

"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?

But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"

"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.

This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.

Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"

"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"

"Loud and clear," Ford said.

"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."

Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"

"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."

Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"

"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."

"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...

He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"

"Is it working?"

"It was! Don't let us distract you."

Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—

"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"

"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"

Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."

"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"

"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."

Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...

Then something went wrong.

There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.

"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."

Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.

"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.

"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.

The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond. 

They screamed.

"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"

They screamed again.

"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"

Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"

"Ow. What the heck, man."

Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it. 

Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.

Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"

"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"

"How?!"

Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—

"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"

"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.

The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.

He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"

"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.

"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."

There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper  through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—

Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"

"What—!"

Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.

Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"

He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.

Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.

Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"

Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"

"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"

"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"

"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"

Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.

Ford said, "You're never doing that again."

"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.

"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"

"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.

"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.

Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.

"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.

For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.

Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.

"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"

Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."

####

"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"

Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.

Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"

Teeth waved his hands emphatically.

"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"

Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.

"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"

"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."

8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.

8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."

Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.

8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."

"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.

"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."

Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.

"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.

"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."

"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"

"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."

"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."

8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"

"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."

"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"

"I'm in."

"Teeth?"

Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."

"Big Z?"

Zanthar gave a thumbs up.

Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"

Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."

She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."

"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.

Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."

"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."

Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.

Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."

####

Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.

And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.

As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."

"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."

"So, we're doing the right thing?"

Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."

####

(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)

[revasserium]

hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

60. home

zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual

summary: a friday afternoon

a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!

The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM

Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.

It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.

“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.

“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”

He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.

And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.

Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —

oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?

He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.

“Hello?”

“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”

Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”

Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”

“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”

“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”

A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”

Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”

“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”

You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.

“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.

“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.

City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM

“You made it!”

Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.

“You sound surprised.”

A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”

Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.

“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”

“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.

“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”

Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.

“Is Liam here?”

“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”

“Zayne.”

The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.

“Do you know someone here?”

Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.

“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”

Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.

“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.

“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”

“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.

You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.

“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”

Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.

“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”

Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”

You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”

Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”

“Oh. Then…?”

Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”

You blush, looking down, “I am!”

It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —

“He said it didn’t make him happy.”

You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.

“Liam? About… being a doctor?”

“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”

You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.

“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”

Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.

“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”

Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM

“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.

“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.

“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.

“Hold still.”

You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.

“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.

“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”

You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.

“Zayne?”

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.

“I — I am?”

He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.

“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.

“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.

“Alright then.”

There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”

He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.

He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.

“What is it?”

You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.

“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.

“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”

You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.

“Say… what?”

Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.

“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”

“For what?”

“For being late to meet you.”

You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”

Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”

You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.

His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.

“No touching… not till I say.”

Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.

And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.

“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”

After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.

“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.

He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”

[xuchiya]

"photograper" || drabble || park seonghwa

park seonghwa. the sophisticated, formal and world-business and philanthropist man known to this generation. he is young to be successful, but age does not choose its successor but yourself.

hence, with all the trophy, money and luxury in his hands, a woman is his least item in his hands. he had respect for love and biggest respect for woman he come across (even with the greediness and the aura of gold digger), he ends them with respect.

that's why no one can speak ill about him.

and here you are, with your headphones on, a nikkon camera sling on your shoulder and a laptop on your lap. you are free-lancer, a woman with many dreams. you like reading, you like writing, you like painting, you like so many things that you wanted to achieve them even with the smallest amount of money couldn't stop you.

that is until you spoke too soon.

you are indeed a free-lancer yet things still stop you from reach your dreams except for the bills.

and here you are, with your headphones on, a nikkon camera sling on your shoulder and a laptop on your lap, looking for a cheaper apartment that you could stay for a while.

"fuck ... i am so sorry!" a spilled of coffee were on your laptop. you watch in horror how it sparks and the screen died, how your hopes died along with it.

you cried. banging your head on the table, the person who spilled the drink glance at you then to the curious crowd. they lean down, trying to stop you from crying, "hey hey .. i can pay for it."

"t-that's my only hope of getting a job or pay my bills ..." you rose your head, turning towards the person only to be left starstruck. seonghwa who didn't notice the space between you two before he pulls away, face slightly red but composed.

"w-well to make it up to you, i'll hand you a new one or ... maybe i can help you with a job. as my compensation for wrecking your device." seonghwa notice the camera on your neck.

an idea came in his mind.

and that is how he found himself, in a studio, lights everywhere and camera flashing with new poses. you, as his new and personal photographer, checks from the big screen if the angle is good or not.

"that's good. let's take a break!" few staffs thank you as they went outside to take a breather while his make-up artist re-touch his makeup. you lean on the table, checking the photos until you felt a presence in front of you.

you look up and smile, placing the camera down before throwing your arms around his neck. his coat, draping around his broad shoulders, fell from his shoulder yet your instinct were fast. you caught it on time and place it back on his shoulder.

"hi honey." you shake your head but your cheeks were flaring. seonghwa has a big effect on you, from his hair, down to his pouty lips down to his broad ass shoulder that you can imagine throwing your legs on them, to his body proportion and down to his glory.

you have seen them. being a personal photographer to the well-known man has its perks.

"hi." with a yank, you pulled him down by his coat and smashed your lips on him. your relationship isn't a secret to the others afterall, it was about time he settles down.

your lips interlock on one another, a surprise left your lips when his hands run down your back to your ass, gripping them on his hand and giving it a squeeze. he had you mushy and whimpering.

he picks you up and places you on top of the table, he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips before he pecks your lips again and again, "seonghwa ... stop we're in public and we have to finish your photoshoot. hongjoong has to arrange-- ah~!"

you were cut off when he grips the fabric of your fish-net stockings and heard it rip. you look down to see around your underwear.

"hey ... i like this fish-net" you can see him rolling his eyes before he undo his belt, your eyes widen looking around the studio if any of the staffs came back.

"i gave them an hour and a half break..."

with a thud, his pants pool around his ankle and your legs were on each side of his waist and around on one of your ankles is your panty hanging, "why?" you ask, knowing fully well why.

he smirks, his other hand jerking his cock before leaning towards you. his tips nudging your clit a few times, you grind on him, mouth gape open in pleasure.

"oh .. so i could hear you scream for me and maybe .. take a couple pictures of you and me." with a wink, he thrust in one swift motion.

[zorosbeau33]

You Go Shopping Together~ Domestic Hawks Headcanon

❖ BNHA/MHA, Hawks x Gender Neutral reader

❖ Headcanon, Fluff, Domestic Life

❖ Established Relationship AU

❖ wc: 548

❖ @atiny-piratequeen @kimnamshiks @tojiseviltwin ❖ Masterlist ❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Enjoy this little pathway~ Comment or reblog with any other Heroes you'd like to see~

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“You’re moving too fast~” The whining, because only with you can he be lazy and baby.

He’s still very dashing and proud but he absolutely loves to whine and walk slowly behind you. Fingers interlocked forcing you to slow down or drag him along, and with his giant wings and strength there is no dragging this man.

Hawks is smiling the entire time, oohing and ahhing at everything around him, yes you started this journey outside to buy groceries for the house but look the game store has a sale on pokemon cards!

These excursions with him are another way he susses out what things you like or are newly interested in. Because he will remember them and get you little gifts the next time he's on patrol or wants to watch tv.

You both have picked up so many new hobbies from this. Due to him signing you up for the pottery/dancing/painting/cooking classes the moment you stared a second too long at an advertisement.

And games too, pokemon card collecting together, board games you rope his side kicks into, mini figurines of your hero friends to go on the mini figure shelf he’s crafted for them (they also have been dragged into board game nights more often than not)

You are of course obligated to stop by every street cart selling chicken. He single handedly will keep the chicken industry going strong and may even nudge you down side streets to get a skewer or two from some of his favorite places even if it's technically out of the way.

You are always offered the first bite, it is a way he shows affection

Grocery shopping is usually you fighting to put back all the extra snacks and things he keeps grabbing with his feathers.

He thinks its a game and it amuses him and he laughs the entire time you (smilingly) scold him or put back the food

Your grocery bill for chicken is astronomical especially if you’re a good cook after those classes he will beg and plead for you to cook all the time (he will of course help you don’t need to ask him though it's more his feathers helping as he hugs your waist).

Another reason for this outrageous food bill is his adoration for Tokoyami and the other side kicks and people at his agency. He buys them small snacks that remind him of them. “So what if it's $100/¥16000? The black of the crystalized part of the candy is the same as Toko’s colors!” 

Shopping always ends up with fans but he is very good about being fast with them or asking them for privacy since he needs to spend some time “With my cutiepie/sugarplum/bunny babe-” the tabloids have talked about the sappy extra nicknames so many times and he has never repeated the same one somehow?

If you need to do some serious shopping don’t expect him to let you carry anything. Even if you are physically stronger than him, his feathers will take them from you. “Your hands are only meant to hold mine”

Honestly shopping with Hawks is filled with food, laughter, and indirect moments of him showing not saying how much he loves you and those important to you both.

[billskeis]

Hey.. I recently read that fic “On the bus” AND IM GOING CRAZY. PLEASE PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP AND BEGGING ON MY FUCKIN KNEES, MAKE ANOTHER ONE🙏🙏 I’m SOSOSO DESPERATE (totes fine if you don’t!)

hehe bill and his luv for semi-public sex :3

˖ ࣪ ⟢ in the dressing room

bill is an insatiable man. like holy shit, he is always never satisfied having been on tour and the road for so long that jerking off to pictures of you isn’t cutting out for him. he needs you, bad. so when rumours has it that you’re joining the band for his last concert he is over the moon.

you could tell.

you could tell by the way his hands will linger on the dip of your back as he presses his chest against your body from behind you, soon sliding his hands down to the curve of your ass for a light squeeze. he breathes in your scent as he watches your face flash a bright red, immediately shoving him off as a smirk decorates his face.

“bill. not now. there’s people around.”

“and when has that ever stopped you?”

oh so referring to the first time that the two of you fornicated on the tour bus while the rest of the band was on it, possibly more. your eyebrow twitches in irritation, and embarrassment as, of course, he had to bring that up.

“you little shit.”

“you know you want me.”

and he was right. the way he leaned against the kitchen counter facing you as you turned to look at him directly. his jeans hung low that his star tattoo peaked from beneath the seams, mini t-shirt revealing his midriff that left your mouth to water. a smirk curved onto his lips as he quirked an eyebrow to you. suggestive, of course, but irresistible.

a bead of sweat dripped down your forehead as you and bill for sure will get scolded by their manager. when it happened the first time you wouldn’t even begin to hear the end of it. going off on how it wasn’t even concerning how disrespectful it was to fuck around while people were there but if “you and bill were going to do it, do it quietly.”

you had that man on a leash as he practically skipped behind you as the both of you waltzed towards his dressing room. closing and locking the door shut as soon as the both of you shoved yourselves within the private area. he couldn’t help his giggling until you slapped him on the shoulder and he winced with a “ow :(.”

“mm.. fuck—!”

he had your tummy pressed up against the wall as he slid his length in. oh how your gummy walls fit around his length so perfectly bill’s jaw hung so low as spit threatened to fall out onto your ass as he watched his cock disappear into you.

hissing, bill didn’t even wait for you to tell him when he can move as his body spoke on its own. deep strokes against your cunt as his tip forced harsh kisses against your cervix.

“y-you couldn’t wait!?”

“what? yer gunna tell on me?? tell my manager that i was so impatient to fuck you?”

“fuck you.. ah!”

angling his hips, he fucks against your g spot in a slow and rhythmic manner. despite your lack of compliance with his wishes to have sex, you’re for sure moaning like someone who would die for it. taking his hand, bill shoves two of his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to suckle on the digits and coat them with your saliva.

“quiet, schatzi, don’t want another incident.. do we?”

saying that as if he isn’t purposely jerking his hips hard enough into yours that leaves your legs shaking and cunt quivering with pleasure. waves of ecstasy can only surge through your limbs as he drags in and out and in and out of your sweet pussy. relishing in the wet noises of how skin sounds together, bill emits a breathy moan into your ears sending shivers down your spine.

“god baby you feel so good..”

“i guess i c-could say the same,”

“hmm c’mon baby don’t lie you love this cock.”

one could say hearts began to form in your eyes with the way his fat tip hit up into your cunt just right. feeling every single vein of his swollen length as he mercilessly pounds into you against the wall, your body impacting against the wall with a tempo to a thud.

getting frisky has its perks, but you will potentially have to ear another lecture by the manager a few hours from now.

you thrash from between the wall and bill as you feel your orgasm coming. that is, until a knock is heard from the door that was only a couple inches beside you.

“bill? you in there?”

it’s tom.

leaning into your ear, bill teasingly whispers, “answer him, or else i’ll stop. right here, and right now. your choice, liebe.”

and that pet name just drips off his tongue like honey. you pout and whine, hoping that it’ll get him to crack, but he only smiles at you. a taunting smile. as you open your mouth to speak, bill begins moving his hips again. this time, faster than before, seemingly to chase after his own orgasm. how unfair!

“h-hi tom..”

“oh! y/n, i thought you’d be in there, may i come inside—”

“NONO! p-please—ngh..—don’t.. i’m uh, i’m changing..!”

bill snakes his hand under your crop top as he holds onto your tit, pinching the bud and kneading the flesh of your body to his liability. licking and nipping at your neck to further initiate a conversation with his older brother. your brain is mushy and cock drunk as you struggle to get the words out.

“ooookay.. where’s bill then?”

“wah..w-washroom~!” with a hard thrust, bill hilted the whole of his cock into your cunt, pelvic bone resting flush against the curve of your ass as he trembles from behind you.

“fucker.. he beat me to it, i needed to take a shit, well! see ya y/n!”

“b-bye!”

behind the sound of bill’s small thrusts, you can hear footsteps getting quieter and quieter. seems like tom finally left! you turn your head to look back at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes, biting your lips that swelled from how hard you bit on them to hide your noises.

“you’re.. *huff* you’re mean..”

“i love you too baby.”

having not realized, bill pulls out as beads of white spill out of your cunt, he came and you didn’t even know it. probably because you were too occupied with having to avert a crisis with tom catching you and his twin brother in the act that he came inside of you. thank god for birth control amiright?

“how ‘bout, i make it up to you, hm?”

bill is slowly kneeling down to face your cunt, sticking out his tongue as he lets his own seed fall onto it. he begins to lap at your folds, sensitive, but having not come yet, you already feel the bubble begin to form even bigger in your tummy as he flicks his tongue on your clit.

greedily eating at your cunt, bill thanks you for the meal before his show tonight as you pet his head from below you.

“s’good mama, wanna do this before everyyyy show.. how s’that sound?”

bill is a cum eater cause i said so fuck you :3

hey i’m alive , for long ? idk .. i just got diagnosed with postnasal drip so YIPEE SICKNESS !!! praying for a speedy recovery 😔

[burntb4bydoll]

If your comfortable with it Could you please write overstimulation with Bill & Tom like reader is a fan and they both liked her and they decided that the one who eats her out the best gets to fuck her (but they just start overstimulating her Couse she tastes addicting) with hair pulling and all that (you can't tell me they never fought over a girl at least a little)

I absolutely love this idea thank you for the request! They literally both had their first kiss with the same girl so I agree

Bill and Tom Kaulitz x Reader

Summery: The twins both want you to themselves but why not have both😇

Warnings: hair pulling, overstimulation, light choking, oral (fem receiving), threesome ish? Idk don’t worry the twins aren’t touching each other or nothing😭

You barely remember how you ended up here. One second you were meeting your favorite band and now your making out with two of the members? You are currently living every girls wet dream. Your train of thought was broken when Tom pulled your face away from Bills.

“Hey, you need to share her Bill. Im sure she wants me more anyways.” Tom smirks, holding your face with one of his hands. Bill rolled his eyes and lightly pushes Toms shoulder.

“Yeah? Well look how flustered she is from kissing me. Im pretty sure she wants both of us so calm down” They were talking about you like you weren’t even there. You huffed, missing their lips on yours. “Aww its ok, Ill give you my attention honey.” Bill coos at you, flashing his beautiful smile at you. But before he could kiss you again, Tom pulls you into him and smashes his lips onto yours. You gasped at the roughness of the boy, which made him smirk into the kiss. He pulls away slowly and tilts your head up to look up at him.

“You want me to touch you baby?” You shake your head quickly leaning closer to him. Bill comes up behind you and starts leaving hot kisses anywhere he can reach. You tip your head back to lay your head against his chest.

“Tom, we need to take turns with her.” Tom sighs and looks at Bill.

“Hmm ok, I wanna go first though” Bill nodded and pulled you towards the hotel bed. Bill sat on the bed and yanked your body so that your back was touching his chest. Tom sits in front of you and starts pulling your pants down. “Is this ok?” You nod at him, which makes him stop his movements “use your words baby, cmon.”

“Yeah its ok Tom” you tell him shakily. Bill plays with your hair to calm you down. Tom finally gets your pants off and immediately rip your underwear off of you. You gasp, he seriously just ripped some of the cutest underwear you owned.

“Don’t worry, we’ll buy you some more.” Bill laughs, making your body bounce against him slightly. You can feel Toms breath against you and you buck your hips up, hoping he gets the hint. He chuckles a bit before looking you in the eyes and attaching his mouth onto you. Both of you moan at the contact. Tom grabs your thighs and pulls you closer, needing to taste more of you. You can feel him groaning into you, sending shocks through your body. You reached up and hold onto Bills arms that we’re holding you in place.

“Fuck, she tastes so damn good.” Tom groans while still using his tongue to fuck you. You whine and grind onto his pretty face. You couldn’t stop yourself from finishing on his mouth. He continued working his mouth on you for a while until Bill stopped him.

“Ok let me have a turn now.” Bill said, shoving Toms head away from you. Tom rolled his eyes and moves to sit behind you like Bill was doing before. He pulls you into his chest and lets his hand rest on your throat. Bill wastes no time, immediately lowering his head between your legs. You whine, already feeling sensitive from Toms mouth. Bill sighs happily and closes his eyes once he tastes you.

“Ah! Bill please- give me a minute I just-“ you were cut off when Tom squeezed your throat and tilted your head up.

“Let him play with you baby, doesn’t he deserve a turn?” He mocked you. You could feel Bill lightly giggling against you. He sped up his movements and dug his nails into your hips. You moved your hips, trying to escape his assault on your clit, but Bill yanked you back and pushed his fingers into you. This made you see stars and you whimpered loudly. Bill can feel you squeezing around his fingers and curls them up to make you cum faster. Once you cum, your left with shaking legs and you chest burns from trying to catch your breath.

“Oh sweet girl, just wait till we fuck you.” Bill smirks. Oh this was about to be a long night.

PART 2

[rosezza]

࿐Silent treatment

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

-r

Warnings: strong language, violence, mentions of drugs, drug use kinda dark!rafe

You were pushed against lots of other sweaty bodies that jumped around as the loud music and flashing lights surrounded the entire room. You were at one of Rafes house parties again. You and Rafe had an arguement before the party started. And he had been ignoring you since, silent treatment.

Usually Rafe had his arm wrapped around you or had you sitting on his lap as he snorted cocaine. But not today. He knew the silent treatment triggered you, which is why he always used it whenever you made him mad.

He was seated at a table with a couple dollar bills around him. Aswell as lines of white substance. Doing coke as usual with a couple of his friends. You had memorized 2 boys since they were always with him, Kelce and Topper. You were out on the dance floor, dancing with a few new friends of yours that you had made at the party. Trying to forget about Rafe for a while.

You didnt like that Rafe did cocaine. But he got pissed everytime you brought it up, telling you to mind your own business. So you decided to let him do whatever he wants. Even tho it hurt you.

"Hey y/n! Grab us another drink will ya?!" Your new made friend Ariel asked loudly with a smile so you could hear it over the loud music and crowd screaming in your ears. You nodded and began pushing yourself through the sweaty bodies. Making your way to a less crowded area. As you got there you placed your hand in your back pocket to check your money before going to pay for some drinks.

But your eyebrows frowned as you didnt feel any money in your pocket at all. You kept searching moving from one pocket to another, desperate to find it. But then you gave up and groaned, someone had probably snatched the dollar bills out your pocket as you were dancing.

"Rafe?.." you asked as you approached the table he was at. He looked to where your voice came from but he ignored you and went back to counting up the money he had in his hands. You sigh as you slide your hand onto his shoulder. Tired of this silent treatment already. He shrugged your hands off his shoulder and you let your arm fall to your side

"What." Rafe said calmly. Still not wanting to talk to you.

You cleared your throat before speaking "Someone stole my money i had when i was dancing and-.." you started as you brought your hand up to the back of your neck as you watched Rafe continue to swipe through his money.

"Mhm" Rafe hummed. Clearly not listening to you trying to give him the hint of giving you some money since you didnt have any. You sighed.

"Rafe i need money" you said akwardly and Rafe pouted his lips. "Ah, thats sad. Go work or something yeah?" Rafe joked which earned a laugh from his friends which just embarassed you. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. Giving up on this. He was clearly not listening to you at all.

You sighed as you turned and began walking away from the table. Giving up on it all to go back and dissapoint your friends with no drinks, and no money.

Even tho they were probably just using you for money because they knew your boyfriend was rich.

But just as youre about to go back into the crowd an unfamiliar arm snakes around your waist. Pulling you closer and into their body. You turn your head, thinking its Rafe. But instead its a middle aged man, probably in his 30s.

You immediately begin feeling uncomfortable and you try to move away from him but that just results in him pulling you even closer, forcing you close. His mouth lowers down to your ear. His lips ghosting over your earlobe as he whispers.

"Boyfriend aint giving you money huh?.. ill give you some for a piece of change" the middle aged man whispered seductively in your ear as you got even more uncomfortable. It felt wierd if it wasnt Rafe who was saying it. Your eyebrows frowned and you shook your head.

"Get your fucking hands off her." You heard Rafes voice sneer before you could answer. You felt the man behind you being pulled away from you forcefully. His arms finally leaving your waist.

The man stumbled a bit and before he could regain his balance again, Rafes fist collided with the mans jaw forcefully. The man stumbled back but Rafe followed after, pushing the man into a table and staring emotionlessly into his eyes.

Your lips parted as you watched the situation unfold infront of you. But too scared to do anything about it. A few people close by walked away from the scene.

The man brought a hand to his jaw as he held himself up by the table with his other. Blood ran down the mans chin. But without saying another word the man stumbled to the side before making his way out of there like a scared dog.

As the man walked away Rafe turned back to you and walked closer to you, placing a hand on your hip as his other hand tucked in a few dollar bills in the waistline of your skirt. His fingers digged into your side.

You looked up at Rafe. "Thank you" you said softly. Which in response you only got a small "mhm" from him.

Rafes gaze moved down your body. Checking you out. You had a short skirt on. A little too short actually. Just a few centimeters shorter and your panties would be for everyone to see. The top you had on was tight. Making your curves more noticable. And Rafe didnt like that one bit.

"Go change. You look like a slut" Rafe said calmly. His face straight showing no emotion what-so-ever. Even tho his pupils were dilated. Showing that he was on coke.

You bit down on your lower lip. Your teeth biting at your skin. You looked back at where your friends were. Remembering you had promised them drinks. Rafe looked down at you, waiting for a nod and for you to obey and go change.

"But-"

"No. Go change or ill force you to it." His voice calm and serious as he looked at you. You shook your head. "Rafe i dont-" but before you could finish your sentence Rafes cold hands gripped onto your waist. Pulling you closer and lifting you up and over his shoulder. His arm wrapped over your ass. Making sure the skirt stayed down as he began walking towards the staircase that led to his room.

"Rafe youre embarassing me i look like a child-" you said as you hanged over his shoulder. Your hands holding onto the back of his shirt.

"Act like a child, get treated like one." Rafe said calmly as he continued his way to his room to get you changed into something more appropriate then what you were wearing.

"But i think i deserve something for saving you, yeah?"

Taglist: @necroflame ♡

I need ideas/requests bc i have no idea what to write

[leah-lover]

Ibiza.

Part 1. Part 2

Leah Williamson x Alessia russo.

With the season coming to an end the girls needed some rest and most importantly some sun. living in england and playing for the arsenal has its perks but the biggest downfall is the weather. So as soon as the season came to an end leah and alessia rushed to get out of england before the international break. Ibiza was the perfect stay for them. 

Surprisingly, they were the only ones to want to go to Ibiza, contradictory to previous years where a bunch of the girls wanted to go with them. This did not discourage the girls from going as they opted for a quiet relaxing stay with one another. 

They agreed on Alessia booking the hotels and flights and splitting the bill in half. 

The flight to Ibiza was comfortable. They sat in first class and enjoyed themselves on the way to the island. 

Leah enjoyed Alessia's company. She found her sweet, endearing and kind of hot. Alessia on the other hand saw a strong willed leader, a ruthless and protective friend and an attractive person too. They were polar opposite when it came to style with Alessia preferring dresses to Leah's more boyish look. Their personalities were in sink with one another as they both liked more chill relaxed vibes. 

“ The reservation is in the name of Alessia russo.” said Alessia to the receptionist when they arrived at the hotel. 

“ Ah yes, a suit overlooking the pool.  Here are your keys miss russo i hope you enjoy your stay.” responded the receptionist while handing Alessia the keys to her room. Leah wasn't a part of the conversation, preferring to go sit on the couch while Alessia got the keys. 

They were both comfortable in each other's silence so there was no need for small talk while riding the elevator. 

The first mishap of the trip was the state of the room. It was gorgeous and spacious however it lacked the availability of beds with the existence of one king sized bed in the middle of the room. 

“ oh my god less.” said leah with a disappointed tone upon seeing the bed.

“ Holy shit , I think they gave us the wrong room.” panicked Alessia and hurried to the phone in the night stand. 

“ Hello, uhmm, this is Alessia Russo from room 2099, I think you guys gave me the wrong room. You see there is only one bed and we are two people.” 

“ no miss russo the reservation says only one bed in the room you confirmed it.” 

“ shit, well isn't there another room with two.” 

“ No, I am afraid all the rooms are booked out. I am sorry.” 

“ okay.” said Alessia, disappointed. 

“ I am so sorry Leah. I thought I checked the beds but turns out I didn't. Since this is my fault I will be sleeping on the couch so you can enjoy the bed. If you excuse me I will go to the bathroom.``. alessia hurried to the bathroom and locked herself in, cursing at herself for her stupidness. In the meantime Leah was confused about the reaction that Alessia made but she didn't give it much thought.

 Leah didn't know how tired she was because as soon as she put her head on the pillow she was out like a light. She left space for Alessia to crawl in bed after she got out of the bathroom but she didn't stay awake long enough to tell her that she wanted her to share a bed with her. 

When Leah woke up it was about 2 in the morning. It took her a while before she realized that Alessia wasn't in the bed next to her. She first panicked, then got up to look for the blonde girl only to find her curled up in a ball on the couch. The sight brought Leah some sadness but it also brought up a small smile to her face. Seeing Alessia's peaceful sleepy face, her hair down and wet, and her overall position brought some joy to the defender. 

“ Less, less wake up. You can't sleep here“ whispered Leah. Alessia was in deep sleep, she couldn't even hear her. 

Confused about what to do, she mastered all her strength and decided to pick up the sleeping Alessia and put her in bed. She gently picked her up bridal style without waking her up and she walked a few feet to put her in the bed. Alessia was out like a light as Leah had hoped but she got the job done. Alessia didn't wake up but she moved a little to reposition herself comfortably.

Having slept for a few hours, Leah went to take a shower before rejoining the sleeping beauty in bed. 

When Alessia woke up she was confused as to the comfort and space beneath her. When she came to realize she was indeed in bed with Leah her face became red. With her legs intertwined with Leah's she felt an unusual feeling in her stomach. She wondered about how she got there but her thoughts were quickly erased as she looked upon Leah sleeping status. 

“ You are staring you know “ said Leah, her accent on full display. 

“ Oh my god I am so sorry I was just confused about how to get here “ responded an ashamed Alessia. 

“ I picked you up last night from the couch. It didn't seem very comfortable. I hope that was okay “

“ Yeah, thank you.” 

After a moment of silence. Each one moved to her own space, both of them squeezing their legs together. 

“ I think I might skip breakfast and head to the beach,” said Leah. 

“ I think  so too. I am not hungry right now.” Answered less. 

The girls both got up and got ready. Leah was wearing shorts and a shirt while Alessia opted for a blue swimsuit. 

“ You know since you play for Arsenal you are forbidden from wearing blue.” joked Leah when she saw the dashing young woman. 

“ Do you think it looks bad?” 

“ Oh no you look absolutely stunning. I am just worried that the people will see this as an announcement for you signing for the dreadful Chelsea. But it makes your eyes look absolutely stunning.” 

“ You can't stop thinking about football can't you. Besides, if they see me with you in a bikini, I doubt they will talk about football.” 

The girls  then head for the beach. They lounge  in the sun for a bit before Alessia  needed  to get up to reapply her sunscreen. 

“ Let me do it.” demanded Leah. A nervous Alessia agreed to her demand and turned around to give her full view of her back. 

The older blond’s touches could have melted Alessia's skin. She couldn't breath throughout the whole process and once she was done Alessia thanked her and ran quickly to the water in order to calm herself down. 

After a while in the water Leah joined her and they both played around in the water for a bit. Their laughs and small screams were heard a mile away as they spaleshed each other in the water. 

The afternoon found the friends in a restaurant by the pool.

“ Why are you looking at me like that? “ said Alessia.

“ like what?” Paused Leah. “ You just look stunning.” She said. 

“ You have said that word so many times today .” 

“ It is true you do look stunning.” 

Alessia went quiet after that. 

“ What are you thinking about? Is it what I said?.” 

“ I am thinking about going back to the room where I have to share a bed with you again.” 

Leah’s face had a confused look to it.

“ no it's not like that. It's becoming very hard for me to do so.” said Alessia while looking down at her plate. 

“ We are in Ibiza Less. It's far away from England and arsenal. We can do whatever we want.”

“ Leah.” 

“ What isn't that what you have been thinking all day? My breath has been short because of you all I want to do is be close to you so why not do it “ 

Alessia looked at Leah for a few seconds before she launched herself over the table and gave Leah I quick kiss. The kiss eventually turned into a makeout session in the Middle of a restaurant. 

“That felt so good. You feel so good less.” Whispered Leah. “ Let's go back to the room.” 

“ What about the food?” Asked Alessia

“ You are the only thing I want to eat right now.”

[honeqq]

Not saying Bill hurts Dipper on purpose, but like, Bill was supposed to protect and supervise but things went wrong and the blame falls on him since he’s an all powerful demon and he can’t even protect a preteen

oh!!! Tbh I just think he's not there while it's happening, like kids being kids go play outside in this weird town and accident happened! My bill also still have a job with his followers and stuff so he rarely walk outside the shack or in the shack either

While he sure kinda blame himself for it cuz didn't See its happening. Great thinking! you give me idea !

Ah oh sorry I get it wrong quite confused before

[slut4kaulitz]

❣︎𝖧𝖴𝖲𝖧❣︎

Tw: Past Abuse, Nfsw, P in V, fingering.

(Sub fem) (Dom Bill) (2009 era)

Description: Bill and y/n are arguing over something silly Bill reaches over to grab her wrist and Y/n flinches. Bill then comforts her which “slowly“ leads to smut.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

“I don’t care!“ “Its my life!“ I exclaimed sassily Bill rolls his eyes and reaches over to grab my wrist I stupidly thought that he was going to hit me I immediately flinched very hard.

Bills expression softened slightly. “Prinzessin..” he mumbled softly and stroked my cheek comfortingly he pulled me into a warm embrace.

“I would never hurt you Prinzessin..don’t worry.” He said calmingly. I looked up at him with my teary doe eyes he wiped the tears that escaped and placed a soft kiss on my lips he then carried me upstairs.

He placed me on his lap..”let me make it up to you Prinzessin..” he murmured as he kissed my neck causing me to shiver with pleasure.

He smirked..”you okay with that miene leibe?” I nodded as I felt a familiar heat between my legs. Bill began to slowly kiss up my neck before slowly connecting our lips the kiss was slow and sensual but it slowly got replaced with desire and roughness..

I whined softly against his lips he pulled away a string of salvia connected us before it broke. Bill slipped my shirt off along with my pants and undergarments I was now naked on top of him he began to rub circles against my clit I whimpered shamelessly.

He shoved 2 fingers inside of me causing me to let out a choked moan. “M’mph so g-good..” I whimpered quietly

His eyes darkened with even more lust he then laid me on the bed and took his clothes off he slipped his boxers off revealing his hard member.

I felt his tip rub circles on my clit I whined softly causing Bill to chuckle.. ”you know the rules Prinzessin..use your words.” I whined and squirmed.

“Please fuck me bill.!” I whined desperately as my hips bucked for more friction. He chuckled and shoved his length into me harshly I winced in pain but that immediately faded when I felt the pleasure.

“Mm! Ah! Fuck!” I cried out as Bill rammed into me with no mercy.

“Fuckkk..~ taking it liek the good little slut you are huh? ᵘᵍʰ~..Fuck your- ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳ~ so tight..“ he groaned and looked up his eyes shut and his lips were slightly parted.

“B-Bill.! I’m close.!” I moaned softly. “Fuck me too..” Bill grunted.

“Cum for me Prinzessin..” he grunted. I let out a pornographic moan as I climaxed Bill reached the end of his high at the same time coating my insides white.

He collapsed on top of me.. “I Love you Prinzessin..” he placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

“ I love you too..” i mumbled tiredly.

A/N: I hope you like ☺️💞

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Dogs

Hildur Knutsdottir: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the night guest Knutsdottir: its about a woman who gets a full night's sleep so you would think she would be well rested (she's not) Knutsdottir: it's almost like something is possessing her while she sleeps (something is)

Knutsdottir: this possession Knutsdottir: you might think it's the yule lads (it's not the yule lads) Knutsdottir: or maybe grylla (its not grylla) Knutsdottir: perhaps its the hidden people (its not the hidden people)

Knutsdottir: now this woman also has a dead sister Knutsdottir: so you would think maybe the ghost of her dead sister is possessing her King: Poe: Lovecraft: Koontz: Barker: King: um King: was there supposed to be a parenthetical there Knutsdottir: not saying

Knutsdottir: now of course when this woman has weird sleep problems, you would of course take advantage of our socialized medical system to see a doctor (she does this) Knutsdottir: but even socialized medicine is not free from the scourge of sexism (there's a lot of it) Angela Carter: yes yes this scans

Knutsdottir: anyway that's the Icelandic socialized medicine system for you Dan Simmons: why do you have to bring politics into this? Simmons: i just want a nice apolitical scary story Knutsdottir: ok i'll fast forward to the cat murders Lovecraft: WHAT

Knutsdottir: yeah someone's been killing cats (it's her) which you wouldn't expect (she loves cats) Lovecraft: i can't listen to this! Lovecraft: i can tolerate rac- Barker: we know howard you say that everytime Lovecraft: it's my catch phrase! Barker: no it's not!

Knutsdottir: every night she walks across the city (to the harbor) Knutsdottir: now you think she might be visiting Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur (but she's not) Cynthia Pelayo: aw that hot dog ain't no good! King: what? hot dog? Knutsdottir: you're entitled to your opinion (it's actually the best in the city)

Pelayo: what dya even put on a hot dog over there? King: why are we talking about hot dogs? Knutsdottir: með öllu Pelayo: pfft! með öllu indeed! Pelayo: ya don't even know what you're getting!

Pelayo: i tell you, you want a hot dog, you get it CHICAGO STYLE Pelayo: mustard, chopped onion, pickle spears, sport peppers Pelayo: YEAH! CHICAGO STRONG, BABY!!! Pelayo: GO BEARS OR MAYBE WHITE SOX!!!

Knutsdottir: no no see a hot dog should have remolaði sauce (and apple ketchup) Pelayo: wtf! the only sauce that goes on a dog is mustard Knutsdottir: WHAT?! like the infidel bill Clinton?! (he ordered with only mustard during his 2004 visit) Knutsdottir: NEVER!!! Knutsdottir: it's með öllu!!! always með öllu!!!

Lovecraft: now i prefer my sausages providence style Barker: no you don't Barker: that's not even a thing Lovecraft: no it is! its when you put a Vienna sausage on a slice of white bread Barker: howard, we all know you don't eat ethnic food

Pelayo: who's ready for mouth watering hot dogs?? Lovecraft: ah sausages! Pelayo: Hebrew national hot dogs! Lovecraft: Lovecraft: [sweats]

[gilverrwrites]

at this point we should give dick a sionis!reader and call it a day 💀 all the batboys have one now except for him (but I have no idea what his plot would look like compared to the other three)

Yeah, Jason and Tim dating with his kids and now Bruce sleeping with his ex-wife, Roman’s hatred of them is becoming more and more justified. . Can I also just add that Roman would be the most miserable girl dad. Imagining him with his 3 bastard girls and ex wife who he's still hung up on but can't win back fills me with joy and its becoming a full on AU in my head.

Anyway, okay, so hear me out with my pitch; Jason/The Rebellious child, Tim/The Favourite child, Dick/The forgotten child

Specifically, one who has tried so hard all their life to not be. Even more specifically, a dancer, a singer, maybe a triple threat. It’s not that you need the attention, you’re good at what you do, you get the parts, you have a small fanbase, you’ve won some minor awards. But just once you’d like to look out into the crowd and see your father or your siblings out there cheering for you.

You try so hard to be supportive of the rest of your family, always there for everybody. You listen to your rebellious sibling and your father bitch about each other constantly, you help them mend their bridges. Rebel is notoriously flaky, but you always step up and cover for them.

You help the favourite study. You were the only one who knew when they started seeing Tim and you helped keep it a secret.

You attend all your fathers parole hearings, all his club launches. You wear the stupid clothes and play the happy, smiling child whenever he wants to show his kids off at events.

But no matter how much you do for everyone, they never return the favour. As soon as you bring up an audition you need help with or a new show you’re in, everybody dips. Nobody takes you up on the free tickets you can get them. When you were training, Roman footed the bills and told all his buddies about his kid the dancer/singer/whatever, but not once did he show up to a single one of your recitals.

But one day, at one of his stupid galas, Dick Grayson catches you dancing by yourself on the patio outside and is instantly smitten.

“Where’s your dance partner?”

“Oh, haha. Can’t you see him? He’s right here.” You jokingly gesture to the air.

“Ah of course, hello sir. Mind if I cut in? Not at all, please be my guest.” He puts on a silly voice as he answers himself before offering a hand to you. “May I?”

And you’re sceptical at first, but you take his hand, and you let him whisk you off. You dance around in circles all evening, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. You have the night of your life, but dating Dick Grayson seems like a bad idea, it’s not that you don’t want it, it’s just that your dad would so not approve. So, you resolve to move on, but will always remember that magical night.

Until a few weeks later, you step on stage and spot him front and centre in the audience looking elated. And although it's downright euphoric for you to see him there, you're not prepared to face him. Alas, he comes to your dressing room straight after the show anyway. Reaching you before you can sneak out, and confronting you about never calling him back.

You explain your hesitations and that golden child part of his brain understands, his heart aches for you. But he so selfishly wants to see more of you, so he gently mentions how your dad doesn’t seem to care what you do... and hey, maybe he’s out of line here and if you want to tell him to take a hike he will but all he wants is a chance to be a part of your life, can’t you spare him one date? Please?

And damn is he hard to say no too. So, you concede. And one date becomes two, then three, and so on…

It doesn’t take long for you to fall hard and fast for him. C’mon who wouldn’t?

He’s handsome, and charming, funny, smart, and superb dancer to boot.

But what really does it for you is how badly he really does wants to be a part of your life. Dick Grayson wants to dance with you anywhere and everywhere; At galas, in the rain on the way home from a date, in your kitchen at 3AM.

Dick Grayson could listen to you talk about anything and everything all day long. Doesn’t have to be performance related, but he likes it best when it is. He especially loves reminiscing about his circus days with you.

And though his job may get in the way sometimes, Dick Grayson wants to be front row at every single one of your shows. He wants to clap the loudest, and bring you flowers, and tell all of his friends, THAT’S MY BOO up there! From the moment he met you, Dick Grayson could never, ever forget you.

How we feeling about this concept?

[batrachised]

SO.

Dean Priest.

Watching the book trundle its way towards this chapter has been interesting, because as Emily steps into her own voice (although really, she's always had it) - Dean appears. This is going to be a weird analogy, but Dean is kind of like a rotten onion. There are so, so many layers to unpeel there - LM Montgomery seemed to have him as a pet character, he's rife with symbolism and allusion, he's disgusting, he's ominous, he haunts the narrative - but in the end, after all that peeling, you just have a rotten onion. This is my clumsy way of saying my personal opinion (personal! opinion!) is that while looking at Dean, saying "pedophile," and moving on is more than valid, (He is a rotten onion!), there's also key elements to his character that I think are incredibly essential to the book as a whole - specifically, the book's commentary on women writers.

Dean is like the evil version of a kindred spirit. There's some old saying about if you don't listen to your kids, they'll find someone who will, and I think this heavily applies here. It's not lost on me that we get Dean's perspective at length; it feels very significant in a book that, excluding throwaway lines, has Emily's voice front and center - until Dean appears. He's presented as enticing and disturbing all at once - @gogandmagog and @no-where-new-hero had an absolutely brilliant post the other day comparing him to the Big Bad Wolf. Emily seems drawn to and repulsed by him at the same time. He seems to fancy himself as a Rochester, which we can take or leave (I leave lol), and from the beginning, from the very first interaction, he makes clear that he wants to own Emily.

So, if Dean is so awful, why is he presented as appealing at all? I mull over this a lot. The easy explanation is that LMM had no problem with age gaps and grooming, as shown in other stories where she outright endorsed it (unfortunately, it seemed to be a popular trope of the time). But Dean is presented as ominous, and age gaps are criticized, and one minute he's denoted as having "strength, tenderness, and humor," and the next he's flinging "cobweb fetters" over Emily.

I would say (and thank you to @limestreet for the brilliant analysis a few months back, best take on Dean I have ever seen imo), that Dean represents the threat of the patriarchy to women's artistic voices. Of course Dean is appealing - he's a more viable threat to Emily's voice specifically because he's not an Aunt Elizabeth or Uncle Wallace. It's easy enough for her to dismiss them. But Dean quite deliberately enmeshes himself in Emily's life and explicitly (in later books) threatens her writing. Dean is the "it's your writing or me," and he's chillingly effective at making sure to make that a hard choice, when Emily at no other point hesitates to pick her writing, whether when burning her account book, writing on letter bills, risking the wrath of relatives, or any other of the endless hurdles she has to overcome.

Knowing that Dean represents that threat (how women writers often were forced to pick between, one might argue, the 'seduction' of marriage/family and writing), puts a curious light on this passage:

“That’s good. Because you see your life belongs to me henceforth. Since I saved it it’s mine. Never forget that.” Emily felt an odd sensation of rebellion. She didn’t fancy the idea of her life belonging to anybody but herself—not even to anybody she liked as much as she liked Dean Priest. Dean, watching her, saw it and smiled his whimsical smile that always seemed to have so much more in it than mere smiling. “That doesn’t quite suit you? Ah, you see one pays a penalty when one reaches out for something beyond the ordinary. One pays for it in bondage of some kind or other. Take your wonderful aster home and keep it as long as you can. It has cost you your freedom.”

According to Dean, Emily reaching for something out of the ordinary (such as a writing career) must cost her in bondage. And this is where I think of LM Montgomery, miserable in her marriage to a jealous, resentful, unstable husband, LMM for whom Emily was heavily autobiographical, LMM who despite her writing success, had to marry to secure her future. I have never agreed with Dean being Ewen's stand in, but I do think Dean as a character feels pointed.

I'm going to be reblogging past discussions on Dean later so hold onto your hats!