psychoneuroticremedies-blog

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

Awkward Situations

Please ignore grammar mistakes I'm still in the process of editing it but here the rough draft//

Chapter 1: In The Locker Room?!

Three years. That was how long he had been here, walking these halls with his classmates- all of whom he adamantly call his friends- yes even Katsuki. Though, friendly was a tricky word to describe their relationship, sometimes Izuku wondered if the term frienemy would be a better adjective. At least Ururaka did, and Iida, and Todoroki, and All Might...okay maybe that was the EXACT term to use for their relationship. Izuku didn't mind though, he knew inside that Katsuki still held an important place in his life, alongside many of the personalities he had gained the pleasure of knowing these three, long years. Admittedly, some friendship were a lot closer than others. Izuku had grown very close to the gravity quirked hero Ururaka and her (now boyfriend) Iida. He had also grown fairly closer with Todoroki over the years and even grew to be someone Todoroki could rely on in need and vice-versa in almost any situation. Again, the green haired boy held pride in saying he now held a bag full of heartfelt relationships with his future pro-hero allies. There was one someone though, someone who he surprisingly found himself drawn very close to in the past year and now resided a more or less permanent physical spot right along side him. His eyes skimmed over their line, Kacchan was to his left, Kaminari on his right. Izuku leaned back some, then forward, then back again with a mutter on his lips. His eyes caught sight of spiky red hair and a flash of teeth before a little crackle went up in his face- resulting in a mess of sputters and a half-hearted glare towards his frienemy. “Oi, loser what the fuck stop fidgeting you're making me wanna blast you.” “I feel like you want to blast me anyways Kacchan.” “Okay but that's not the point.” “....Are you sure?'' “YES. So stop moving! Fucktard!” A small series of blasts and soon Izuku could see a very disheartened Aizawa glaring their way and giving a warning of his own. Ah, Kacchan had never lost his urge to fight Izuku that was for sure, but he had grown a little more tolerable over the years. They no longer held their urge to battle in until it burst. No now the two would find themselves happily fighting and challenging each other on an almost regular basis. Oh, maybe that was why everyone called them frienemies. Izuku hummed, scratching his chin in thought with emerald eyes shining at the prospect. Which was where the boy still found himself dazing when a gentle “psst” and a soft poke to his arm made him jolt. Looking to his right, where Kaminari was snickering and point to his left. Oh god did Kacchan get mad again. Izuku looked left, his gaze up to not blonde but red hair. Those dangerous teeth showing in a radiant smile and a fist held towards him. Izuku returned his smile, his cheeks started to feel warm as he raised his own fist and gave the red head a gentle fist bump. With locked eyes full of hormones and god knows what emotions the two let their hands stay in contact behind the secrecy of Katsuki's back until said blonde got suspicious and turned to look at them both. Red eyes calculating the looks on their faces as they tore their hands apart. While Izuku gave a firm gaze ahead as if nothing had happened, Kirishima cackled and slung a daring arm around the blonde's shoulders. “Ayyyeee Bakubro you ready for these matches?” “Get off me hair-for-brains. Ill own your ass- Deku's too.” “Mhhmmm all right man, y'know it's been three years since I seen you actually take Midor-” “SHUT UP ILL KILL YOU.” “Aight man.” Kirishima held up his arms in a resolute fashion with a little laughter on his lips, another glance back to Izuku and soon he was blushing as well and turning away to continue riling up his best friend. In the mix of Kacchan's fuss, Izuku had almost forgotten what they were doing out here on the field. His eyes returned ahead to focus on Aizawa, Midnight, and All Might who were looking to the two students dueling it out right now. Izuku watched with intent, seeing Todoroki and Ururaka in the heat of a battle while he ran through the usual vast scenarios in his head between the two possible winners. Just as the battle rounded out to an end declared heartily by Midnight and applauded by All Might (or rather Toshinori considering he was in his deflated self) Izuku was pushing his hair back out of his face and slipped a headband over the green to make sure it stayed back. “All right, next up. Midoriya and Kaminari. Let's go don't waste our time.” Aizawa oh-so endeared as he gestured for the next two in line to get to it on the field. Izuku adjusted his gym clothes, shot a grin to Kaminari and parted with a rather stinging high five from the sparky boy as they walked to their ends of the field. With an array of whoops and hollers and a warning from Midnight, the two dashed forward to start a clash of a glowing fist and sparks hazing everyone's visual. - After a long hour of practice battles and a few Recovery Girl visits everyone was more than happy to be dismissed to the showers. The boys all but clamoring over each other to get in the locker rooms and peel off their sweat soaked and singed suits. The girl equally following suit albeit less aggressively as they parted ways to head into their own ocker rooms. This is where Izuku found himself now, rubbing at a light burn on his arm and stretching his aching elbows and wrists under the hot spray of water. Boys were clashing and talking all around, voices bounding of the tiled walls and floor and mingled with the sound of running water, steam fogging up the room and mirrors leaving everyone feeling refreshed and relaxed. Izuku cracked his eyes to look around, taking in the sight of changing bodies and fresh bruises, excited faces and listening to their rambunctious chatters. A small smile graced his features as he skimmed over to a certain red head who took up the shower stall practically vertical again. As if on cue, Kirishima graced towards Izuku and they held their breaths. The duo would never get use to seeing eachother, Izuku confirmed that even after a year of their relationship they were always going to find themselves praising one another with raw looks and scandalous, dancing fingers on eachother's skin. Izuku had his hands on his neck, fingers dug into his shoulders to ease the tension, Kirishima had a hand scrubbing some dirt and char off of his arm from where Kacchan had aimed an explosion to the rock hard limbs. Just when the boy thought it couldn't get worse, the red head dared to wink. He fucking winked. Izuku's heart practically fell out of his body then and there and was now flurrying down the drains in a slew of emotions. The greenette's ears went red and he was praying that he could still blame his flush on his hot shower. Izuku was feeling bold though, after three successful matches he found himself still bursting with adrenalin- and maybe Kirishima was as well causing this surge of brashness- because he smiled coyly, lidded his eyes and slid his hands way too slowly down his body. Accentuating the shape of his tone torso as they curved over his hips and drifted low, too low past the short shower barrier for Kirishima to see. He had to hold in laughter as Kirishima slipped then, trying to see over the wall cockblocking his voyeuristic behavior. Just as Izuku was about to draw his hands back up over his chest for a cheap tease to his poor boyfriend he suddenly felt radiating pain low on his back. Something he was definitely not expecting, but the wet smack of a wound up towel on his skin wasn't what made the locker room go quiet- no it was the noise that escaped Izuku. The wide helpless eyes that were still locked on Kirishima when his lips parted and that noise came tumbling past his lips. A noise that could only be described as a gasping, broken moan that turned into a startled pant. Izuku's scarred hands scrabbled forward at the tiles, and his eyes were wide when they turned around to see a very smug looking Bakugo twirling the towel for another hit. A beat past in silence. And then Izuku found himself wrapping a towel around his hips and all but chasing Bakugo around the room as they swatted one another with towels. Their rowdy behavior spurred on a series of towel swats and wrestling until Iida was breaking people apart by force and herding the dressed ones out of the rooms. In an urgent voice he herded teens to get dressed and “Just be decent you are U.A. third years for goodness sake.” After having most of their butts chewed out by Iida and the playful atmosphere died down, many of the boys left to continue their rough-housing outside of the locker room. Luring Iida, Mr. Class President to follow along and try to keep his peers in tow. Izuku wasn't sure when it happened, but as he was sitting down on the bench and tugging on a shoe he realized he was the only left in the room. A disappointed grunt left his throat, but it quickly died in his throat as strong arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him abruptly into the air. The green haired squawked and twisted in new hold, laughter bubbling up his chest as playful teeth nibbled on his neck, teeth that Izuku found all too familiar. “Eijirou! Come on! St-Stop you know I- You know I'm ticklish when you do that!” His words were swallowed in betrayed laughter, squirming around until the lips that belong to those teeth found his and ate up his contagious laughter. Below him, Izuku felt a solid chest rumble with laughs of its own. Two faces parted and Izuku felt his feet touch the ground once more, but those arms stayed wrapped around him firmly. “Sorry, couldn't help it. Y'know how much I love tickle wars.” Izuku snorts, his hands resting on Kirishima's shoulders. “Dirty trick, you snuck up on me!” “Its an adequate tactic! Now I'm in the lead 9-8 of the great tickle battle.” “You're no fair..” Izuku whined, a playful whine with a smile on his face. “I'm no fair?” The red head squeezed Izuku's side. “What about you? You gave me those eyes in the shower babe, then that thing! That thing that Bakubro did with the towel!” He could feel Eijirou shudder against him. “Babe that noise was amazing an all, but c'mon only Im suppose to make you sound like that!” “I didn't do that on purpose!” Izuku heard Kirishima hum in feign disbelief. “I swear! I was just trying to make you, I mean, I wanted to return your, uh, gazes and, stuff s-so..” “Awe...c'mon, you're too innocent. I think. Somehow you're so innocent and sexy at the same time. Cause that shit was totally makin me wanna do things to you babe.” “Mmh? Things? Well, like what things?” Izuku felt his earlier spark of determination and bravery light up in his chest and he leaned close to his red haired partner. Nosing alongside his strong jaw with a little sigh. “Well, for starters...” Izuku gasped, hands slipping low on his back, one curved to hold his hip possessively while the other massaged his ass. Strong, broad hands that he had felt touching and marking up his skin so many times. Hands that at first hesitance melted away his anxiety and coaxed him into a bubbly ruse of need. He heard Kirishima speaking in his ear now, the breath on his ear spiking his heart beat. “I wanna get you outta these clothes, sit you on my lap babe, and see how long you can keep quiet..” Izuku groaned, pulling his face back and trying to shape his head. “Eiji, we can't do this here- what if we get caught! What if Kacchan sees us? We still haven't told him about us, should his knowledge of our relationship really come to existence by seeing us-” He felt lips on his, firm and heated. His own lids fluttered a bit, heat rushing over his body before it settled low between his legs and he found himself pushing back into it. His lips parted and grew slick when Kirishima's tongue twirled around his, in a little battle for dominance of the kiss, Izuku lost when Kirishima raised a hand and smacked it down on his back end. eliciting a torn gasp that was smothered with Kirishima's tongue down his throat. Oh god dammit sometimes he really hated Kirishima's “practical tactics”. In a blur of limbs Izuku was deemed an official mess under Kirishima's hands. The shark toothed boy had moved them back to the bench, where they straddled the poor wood with Kirishima pressed to Izuku's arching back. Fingers were twining with the freckled boy's tongue and caused drool to slide down his chin. Izuku could feel as Kirishima's free hand had undid his pants and slipped down to cup at his groin, groping at him through his underwear and barely easing up, even as Izuku choked on a moan and his arms almost gave out on holding up his torso. With a chuckle at his back and wet, slick fingers pulled from his mouth, grazed his teeth and trailed spit over Izuku's cheek- the helpless boy whimpered. His pupils were blown wide, more black than green at this point and dark with unchecked need. “Eiji, please, come on..” Izuku whimpered, pleading whispers as Eijirou cooed and kissed the back of his neck. Encouraging whispers of praise left him teary eyed, so distracted by the teasing that before he realized it Eijirou had pushed two slick fingers into his ass. Stretching him and burning him in all the right ways, Izuku's back bowed and his nails left scratches in the wooden bench. Izuku had to hold his tongue between his teeth to keep himself quiet, else they get caught and Izuku adds a whole new story to his list of “Reasons I Need Therapy”. Given the moment however, the idea of making Kirishima stop didn't dare to cross his mind, he was much too pleased with their current predicament- no matter the awkward scenario and/or consequences if someone were to walk in on them. “You're beautiful, gorgeous, have I told you that? I need to, every day for as long as I live baby, absolutely perfect. God, you're too good for me, fuck.” He could hear Eijirou panting against his neck. “The way you move, your hips, your back, your skin is so soft, you feel so good, I love it. I love you.” Izuku thinks he's dying, he knew he shouldn't be surprised because Kirishima was always like this. Always encouraging Izuku and praising him, always giving the boy confidence and raising him to new, better levels of self esteem in any given category- whether it was homework, battle strategies, or sex. Izuku always returned the favors, always praising his boyfriend and gushing over his abilities, in sex he also did his best to return his talkative nature. However, his words always ended up jumbled and mashed into incoherent moans. But Kirishima always said he got the idea. Izuku canted his hips a few times, trying to meet the quick hardening boy with each roll of his fingers until Kirishima deemed him stretched enough. Trying to soothe his panting and begging counterpart when he slipped his fingers out and pulled a familiar foil square form his pocket. Bastard was totally planning this, Izuku would get his revenge. Later though. He promised. Right now he just wanted to occupy his mind with this, deciding to dedicate this scene to his memory he turned to look over his shoulder. Two sets of clouded eyes locked on each other as sharp teeth tore open the little foiled packet and Kirishima rolled the thin rubber onto his throbbing member. A sight that had Izuku aching all over again and rutting his hips to achieve even the slightest amount of friction on his confined cock. The two third years shared a heated look, Kirishima hed himself at his base as the other hand spread Izuku's cheeks. Kirishima pressed slow and determined into Izuku with locked eyes on one another. Izuku was breathless, being filled to the brim and stretched in all the right ways. He couldn't hold up eye contact for his eyes rolled back and fluttered shut, his head craned back to moan breathlessly into the air. Their positions proved to be perfect, for Izuku could feel Kirishima's dick throb against his prostate, causing his body to collapse against the bench. The two stayed there for a moment, giving Izuku the time to adjust to being stretched wide by letting themselves kiss eachother sloppily over the green haired boy's shoulder. When Izuku gave a meek nod against Kirishima and felt their foreheads press together he crooned. Kirishima pulled himself out slow, careful and methodical like usual. Pulled out until he was practically no longer sheathed in Izuku and then he pushed, slid himself right back in. Izuku didn't catch another break then. Immediately his red haired lover was thrusting, fucking him deep and sloppy, making izuku a downright mess. Their bodies creaked on the bench and Izuku's moans were free in the open air of the locker room. Kirishima was thrusting into Izuku, pounding him into oblivion while the green boy was clutching at bench and bouncing, rolling back to meet each thrust against Kirishima's hips. Sweat was coating his skin and Eijirou's all over again, hell they might have to sneak into the dorms in order to catch a proper shower after this. Maybe a round two if Izuku was lucky (he usually was). With sloppy thrusts and slobbery kisses, Izuku and Eijirou were soon reaching their end. They could both feel the heavy pit growing in their stomachs and weighing them down, driving Kirishima to thrust more wildly and with almost reckless abandon. Something that Izuku would secretly treasure, he loved the rough, wild side to his otherwise gentlemanly and charming partner. Kirishima groaned Izuku's name, while Izuku screamed for Kiishima and they found their wild ride coming to deep, grinding halt. Izuku's pants were suddenly wet and his insides were flinching with every throb Kirishima's dick gave. The two teens were breathless and laying onto one another. Izuku's hands were carding through Kirishima's hair while the red head's hands were massaging his sore thighs. Both were shuddering and gasping as they forced themselves to separate. In the silence of their heartfelt afterglow they dressed and cleaned each other, leaving with trails of kisses and lazily whispers to declarations. They found themselves laying on the slightly damp bench and embracing one another. Izuku could die here and now, as his trembling thighs held up his weight and he leaned tiredly against Eijirou's side. A strong arm wrapped around Izuku's waist in both the means of keeping the boy upright but also just to keep him pressed close. They wandered from the locker room and into an empty, dark hall that they filled with their own laughs as they walked leisurely to their dormitories.

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

Eggsy+ bruised and battered

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

“That boy needs therapy.”

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

What’s a Puppet Without a Puppeteer

Chapter 5: A Warning

Notes: I wonder how Bill knew Stan and Ford were coming back home? hmmm “Stan?” A voice rang into the darkness, husky but clear and thick with age. A tall, elderly (in body not mind) echoed around. Bouncing in a total darkness that seemed to swallow out his vision, preventing him from determining his current predicament. Ford walked along, the heels of his shoes clicked against the floor of ink as he pushed himself further into the darkness of his dream. He knew this was a dream, well mentally he did, but his body acted through as if it were totally normal and not a reaction from his brain forming images and choking him with conspicuous and unconscious thoughts. Ford pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes in any attempt to allow even the slightest light to penetrate his vision. Much to his pleasure it did the trick, kind of, it at least allowed him to focus enough to see the rough and melted outline of a building. His feet were walking a little quicker and he bounced up to the mirage, his hands outreached and feeling for something in the darkness. His hands brushed against a railing made of splintery wood. Holding onto the beam he lifted a ginger foot to feel for steps, and after a couple careful moments of blind touches he believed he was standing on a platform, a porch? He wasn't sure honestly, what he was sure of now was that he could see a rectangle of gold before him. His eyes blinked hesitantly and adjusted to the light, was that a door? It had to be, that means there was a light inside of the building he was standing before, thank gods. Those same, six-fingered hands reached out, brushing against the rough texture of the definite door and grabbed for a door knob, when he found it he sighed in relief as it gave way with a twist. He wasn't assaulted by the light per-say, but rather caught off guard. The room was littered with candles, candles which were burning such in immense amount and brightness he rubbed eye his eyelids to ease the sting. He walked in and payed no mind to the door that slammed shit behind him, looking around he recognized this place. This was the living room of the mystery shack! He looked with a fond look, admiration bubbled in his chest as he fondly recalled of his nephew and niece, and that pig too. Gosh, it had been awhile since he and Stand had visited the shack- last he heard Dipper was moving in to help around the shack while he attended college. As he found himself getting lost I thought his breathing stopped when something creaked up above him. The soft groans of footsteps on the upper level of the shack startled him, but something about them made just the right amount of unease and anxiety bubble up his throat and worry his mind. He grabbed one of the candles closest to him and allowed his curiosity to drag him up the stairs, creaking and crying loudly under his feet- a noise that seemed all to loud for that very moment and made him wonder why whoever else was here wasn't saying or revealing themselves to him. Of course this was all still just a dream, right? “Hello?” Ford called out, stepping onto the even flooring now and walking himself down the hall. His candle's flame flickered and jumped around, light licking the walls a mere few feet before his face before cutting off into darkness. Ford stopped himself to listen to the old house, he counted a good , heavy second or two before he heard the faint creaking of steps yet again. It took his a few concerned seconds before realizing the noises were coming from the attic. 'Isn't that Dipper's room?' Ford thought, mumbling incoherently under his breath as he started towards the attic. Once his candle's light graced the image of the attic door before him he leaned forward just enough to hold his ear near its surface, listening inside for the same creaks, or even a familiar voice. What he heard was much more unsettling, faint little whispers were being uttered in rushed sentences, the sound of huffing and panting and the shuffling, ruffling of papers and other inanimates were just barely audible through to Ford's side of the door. 'Is that Dipper? Is he okay?? Maybe I should..' His heart lurched when he heard another voice, a higher voice that was speaking in low hushed tones. Ford could recognize it as another male's voice, perhaps older than dipper, simply based on how rough it spoke and the depths it reached. Ford had to breath in deep through his nose in order to not throw his shit out the window right there. His six-fingered hand reached out just enough to graze the door, feeling it waver against his touch he realized it was just barely opened a sliver. He held an unknown breath as he pressed a little more and the door opened enough for him to peek in. His eyes went hazy for a split second, and then focused their gaze on a figure in the middle of the room. The form was smaller than him significantly, but still large enough to be identified, and its face was lit enough by the circles of candles that burned around it. It was Dipper. The boy was hunched over his arms, his legs were tucked against the floor and he looked to be wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, or maybe those were boxers that was not what Ford was focusing on. No, what he was looking at were the markings littering his body, he had designs inked into the majority of his back and his arms were littered din cuts and bruised. There were smaller bruises that peppered the back of Dipper's neck, where Ford's eyes blew wide at the image tattooed there. Staring at the black eye which he swore was looking right through him. The older man wanted to step forward, to touch his nephew and hold him, but some instinctual factor was taking over his actions and he was frozen to his spot, eyes wide as he watched. Before his eyes he could only see the shaking shoulders belonging to a beat up Dipper. The boy was whispering what sounded like gibberish and rocking slowly on his knees, back and forth, back and forth to a silent rhythm. Suddenly the candles flickered, and Dipper's body tensed, his arms curled up before they fell limp on either side of him. His panting grew louder, as well as little desperate and frustrated noises. Ford didn't have to see his face to imagine that the poor kid's face was clenched and glittering with sweat. Ford's heart was pounding at his ears and against his brain. With Dipper's arms now lying in better view of Ford, the older man noticed deep lines of liquid oozing down and dripping off his finger tips. The liquid looked black and sticky, it clung in heavy trails on Dipper's skin and globbed into thick puddles on the floor. It wasn't until he saw this new creep factor that Ford smelt the heavy scent of metal wafting around the air. If it weren't for many decades stuck in another dimension and dealing with much more gruesome things he would have puked at the overbearing stench. Ford's eyes widened whenever he found himself stepping into the room further. One hand was limp by his side and the other still held up the candle, holding the light out at arm's length allowed the man to see Dipper in a more focused light. His pupils twitched as they tried to focus on those odd markings that blurred all over Dipper's back. The closer he got the more he could focus on them, the more his heart fell into his chest at the realization of what those runes were saying, what they were claiming his nephew's body to be. He still couldn't see much in the darkness engulfing the two people there, but what he did see made his heart stopped. Two reflective surfaces were about at Ford's eye level, staring him dead on and filling his old heart with dread. Before his thoughts could gather the door slammed shut behind him, startling him into dropping the candle and feeling helplessness wash over him after being flooded into darkness. He gulped in much needed huffs of air and turned over his shoulder, he saw only shadows and he whipped his head in front of him again at the sound of soft creaking. “Grunkle Ford?” That small, broken voice piped up from its spot on the floor. Ford looked down and winced back at the sight. His nephew was still on his knees with his arms behind his back now and limp as noodles. In fact, the boy's entire body looked like a puppet. Dipper's head was snapped back, exposing that pale neck. His back was bent at a sharp and painful looking angle that pushed his ribs abnormally far from the excruciating degree. “Dip...Dipper...Dipper what's going on? I'll-Here let me-” He reached down, he was stepping close to pull the man up off the floor, he didn't get very close however, something hit his chest hard, making it feel like he was shot by a bullet and slammed onto his back down to the floor. His vision went double as he tried to catch his breath, struggling to right his position and get back up to his knees. He didn't get far, his blurry eyes settled back on Dipper in front of him. The boy's body was bent even further in half and head dangling uselessly on a neck. A neck that had a skinny hand wrapped around it. Long fingers stark against white skin, right before his eyes hands began pushing up from the ground. They slid like silent predators, grazing up Dipper's skin and enveloping him with those long loose fingers. Ford began to sputter out warning as a large form grew into focus right in front of Dipper, stalking and looming over his boy's bent up body. The dark creature's body began to dissipate, wisps of smoke floating low to the ground and building up around the room. Ford's eyes trailed carefully as those snake-like tendrils of smoke were slithering and passing over Dipper's face. Those little slivers sneaked greedily passed Dipper's lips, they smoke out his lungs and crowded up his nose, the boy's chest stuttered and his eyes rolled back. Ford sat in silent terror, seconds turned into moments of Dipper sitting there like that, being suffocated. Dipper's eyes snapped open after the last bit of smoke snaked in and corrupted him. His eyes no longer held that light of happiness with warm brown irises, but now were dull and glassy, yellow and diseased. Dipper's head snapped around with his shoulders and torso, his body twisted in two as arms contorted and crawled his upper portion towards his great uncle. His legs dragged backward on his body before they spread and twisted to sit correctly once again on his body. Ford jolted back, the sound of popping and creaking bones and muscles grating on his ear drums, making his stomach churn and eyes water at the mere gruesome sight. “Dipper? Dipper snap out of this! Dipper wake the hell up boy!” Ford rattled, he kept crawling back, Dipper's paced picked up and he creeped his way up into the older man's face with a sickening grin, from his lips dribbled black blood and clotted up on the front of Ford's shirt. “I don't wanna wake up old man,” Dipper's- no that wasn't Dipper. The male's young voice was in there somewhere but it was buried behind a mountain of crackling, echoing voices bouncing around the room. “I wanna stay asleep forever, but..” He cooed, leaning down and popping his shoulders from their sockets, Ford lurched at the sound. “I think you should,” Ford jolted up so quick his head slammed into the extremely low ceiling, the force pushed him back down into his creaky little cot and he rolled over too quick to catch himself as he tumbled from the bed. Laying on the floor his heart was beating hard in his chest. By the time his disoriented mind seemed to collect its thoughts he rubbed at his temple, groaning and pushing himself to sit up. He could feel the familiar, rhythmic rocking of the waters beneath surface of he and Stan's boat. He could hear the steady sounds of steps from above his head and his body shivered in a quick lapse in memory. Those steps up above him started to grow louder and nearer to him, and off to his side a small door was pushed open and he looked over to see his brother, Stan, walking in. “You alright down here poindexter I could hear you from up on deck? If you're seasick again can you at least hurl it over the side of the boat this time and not on it?” Stan grumbled in his usual, husky and gurgle of a voice. Cocking his brow when he stepped close and examined his twin closer. “Why are you on the floor? I ain't that bad a driver- and what's that nasty shit on you? Squid ink?” Ford's breathing stuttered, his eyes widened as he now took notice on the way his shirt clung to his chest, it was stiff and wet. His eyes slowly slipped lower and his gaze landed on a splotch of black colouring staining the front of his shirt. He slowly raised one f six shaky digits and gathered a bit up onto his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. The dream wasn't all fake, it meant something, he had to help Dipper. This was a warning, he could feel it, he had to get back to Gravity Falls. “Stan,” Ford muttered, breathless. “We have to go see Dipper,” Ford mourned. “Wait, what?”

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

dude I would die for that like lowkey prompt inspiration right there

I kind of want

A Gravity Falls AU where Bill Cipher is the ringleader of this crazy, gothic, strange circus with a freak show and everything, and like always messing with kids and just doesn’t really care. And Stan and Gideon both hate him so much, like a triangle of rivalry and despise. 

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

oddly enough most my stories are created by writing a rough of the last chapter first and building a story up to it based on that end goal.

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

Writers

Writer says: So I had this crazy idea one day and I just had to work on it. Here ya go!

Writer means: So I had this crazy idea either right before getting in the shower or right before falling asleep so I grabbed my fucking laptop and shat all over it to create the steaming pile of crap that I now lay before you. I don’t even know if it’s good anymore. I haven’t slept in two days.

Writer says: Wow, real life’s getting busy! Sorry on the slow updates.

Writer means: My life is a literal storm of shit at the moment. Why did I decide to do this. Why am I still doing this. Everything around me is spinning out of control and I am staying up ‘til 5:30 in the morning every night to create a piece of work that will only get two comments and 12 demands for quicker updates. I hope no one’s mad at me, all I wanted to do was write.

Writer says: Wow! Would you look at that! I updated on time! Please enjoy!

Writer means:  WOOOOOOHOOOOOO BITCHES LOOK AT THIS PRODUCTIVE ASSHOLE GO YEEEEEHAAAAWWWW TAKE THAT YOU NASTY REVIEWERS ALWAYS DEMANDING ME TO BE FASTER! I GOT THIS SHIT I GOT THIS SHIT

Writer says: This chapter was a toughie. Glad it’s finally done!

Writer means: I don’t know if this is good or not. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’ve read the same words over and over and over again and I just couldn’t look at it anymore. My beta said it was ok but I’m not confident but HOLY SHIT I JUST NEED TO STOP WRITING THIS FUCKIGN CHAPTER.

Writer says: Thanks for reading!

Writer means: Please, oh please oh please oh please leave me a review. A comment. Anything. Please tell me you’re out there. Please tell me someone is reading this.

Writer says: I just want to say that real life is getting pretty hectic right now. Please try to be patient with me, I know you guys want updates. Thanks! :)

Writer means: FUCK. YOU. Who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from me?! You don’t know my life! I have a very busy life! I create shit for free, you entitled son of a pig-fucker! STOP LEAVING ME COMMENTS TELLING ME TO UPDATE SOON OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PUKE ALL OVER MY COMPUTER 

Writer says: What’s gonna happen next? Who knows? Hee hee ;)

Writer means: I have no fucking clue what the next chapter is going to look like. What’s my plot? I don’t know. I feel no emotion.

Writer says: Please leave a comment! It helps me write!

Writer means: I am begging you to leave me a comment because I swear it’s the only thing that’s keeping me motivated right now, I hate the work I put out and I need reassurance that people are actually enjoying this.

Writer says: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, big things are coming up! ;)

Writer means: Buckle up bitches, someone’s gonna die.

Writer says: I know I’ve missed a few updates, but I swear I plan on finishing this story! 

Writer means: *high pitched eternal screeching*

Writer says: Here we are at long last! This has been one wild ride. I want to thank you all so much for your support and love, I adore each and every one of you. I am so happy to say that this story has come to a wonderful close.

Writer means: My body is numb. Voices call out to me from the void, but I can no longer hear them over the beating of my racing heart. I am stressed to the point where I feel no relief. The story is done. It’s fucking DONE. I loved it, I hated it, it was a fucking storm of horror and pain. I can no longer see color. Now I can at last relax and…wait……wait a second………..holy shit I just thought of the best idea for a one-shot that’s totally gonna turn into a 50 chapter slow burn AU fic leT’S FUCKING DO THIS

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

What’s a Puppet Without a Puppeteer

Chapter 4: Paint

Notes: This is a little short, kind of a filler leading up to the next chapter because it was too much o add into one of the others so I just let it stand on it's own. Dipper still thought of himself as crazy. Even after he peeled himself up off the floor and cleaned the mess off his body, scrubbing away the old blood and scabs of his tattoos. A part of his mind was nagging at how he just agreed to Bill's whims at the promise of a good touch. Though, it had been awhile since anyone touched him like that. Or even held him. Anymore Dipper was so isolated from the touch of other people he had kind of forgotten what it felt like, and the way Bill had rubbed and held him so tight, he shivered at the memory of those hands between his legs and nails scraping over his scalp. He bit the inside of his cheek in a failed attempt to choke down the thoughts. There was a voice in the back of his mind that still told him all of this was one long fever dream, that he was just a fucked up kid with sick fantasies. Though if Bill really could do as he promised, make all this mass of coldness that lingered in him go away- simply in return of a true form was it really that bad? He felt as if he would be asking a lot more questions the next time he ran into Bill- before he started getting his hands all over him. Dipper found his thoughts still running around long after he climbed out of the shower. He took care this time, wrapping his hands and feet a little more properly and tending to his back and neck a little longer. He pulled on some old jeans and a ratted old hoodie with holes worn into the elbows and lower hem of the pockets. A lot of his clothes were pretty worn, he hated shopping for new clothes that was Mabel's thing, always had been. He tended to his messy locks, and by tended it was more like running his fingers through until there weren't any huge knots and leaving it be. After finding himself fully dressed and feeling a little more dignified in himself, he began to wander around his room. He held his journal up as he paced and jotted thoughts about his encounters with Bill. Now knowing that the thing had claimed to be Bill, and something about t screamed Bill towards Dipper as well. “Spread the word,” He wrote. “The eye. His eye?” How do you spread an eye? He gave a small pout down at the pages in his arms. He twirled his trusty pen between his fingers and searched the page as if it would answer him itself. He moved to shove the end of his pen in his mouth and began to incessantly chew it's plastic. He always had a bad habit of doing that, he remembered over thinking so much something he'd eat right through and the pen would- he gagged, coughing out the ink that assaulted his tongue and spitting it onto the floor at his feet. Yeah, he did that. He looked down at his hand and groaned, the black ink dripped down onto his sleeve and bled through his bandages. He tossed the pen aside without care and began to peel off the fabric. Grumbling about the mess under his breath as he tossed the wrap aside too. He looked down to inspect the damage done to his skin, only a few ink splotches here and there it wasn't too bad. His eyes trailed over the scarring image embedding his hand. His own pupils locked onto the single line that made up His pupil, he brought it up to his face and looked closer, his eyes shifted focus to the wall behind it. His gaze darted between the two things for a bit, intense gaze shifting from the eye on his hand to the blank wall. Something about the wall being blank made him feel uneasy. It felt wrong, something was missing and it made Dipper feel angst. Dipper approached the wall, placing his palm against it and gasping. That was it! The eye! All he had to do was put the image up on every inch, he could plaster it over the town's wall and trees and every little 'secret' crook and cranny he could imagine. He reeled back to grab a new pin and flipped to a fresh page in his journal. He scribbled down with harsh lines a sloppy image appearing on the page below him. The misshapen oval with three little lashes on each lid-symmetry- shit that was nice. He drew the single line as the pupil and ripped the page from his journal, dropping the book in the process as he stepped over it to stick it up against the wall. Finding some old tacky tape from one of his old monster posters and using that to stick it to the wall. He paid no mind as the older poster next to it fell to the floor, all he could focus on was the eye adorning his wall and he beamed proudly at it. Something felt so right, it felt so good seeing the eye. In his own eyes it looked so much brighter, colour seemed to be more present wherever he put the eye. It was beautiful, compared to the dull outlook he had begun to look at the world with, the visibly noticeable splash of colour gave Dipper some hope. Made his heart flutter in his chest as he ran down the stairs, bolted into the basement and began to drag old tins of paint and bottles of spray paint back up to his room. He wasted no time in assaulting every square inch of free wall paneling with the holy image. Dipper didn't stop until he felt his arm grow too sore to lift a brush or can once more. He didn't stop until his eyes were being assaulted with bright, heavy tones of colour stroking into his vision like art. His perception of his old grimy room soon changed into one of utter admiration. He sat on his knees in the middle of the floor. The triangular window behind him allowed the setting sun to cast the heavenly shape perfectly around him. Another image that made his heart flutter, he crawled around to grab a thick brush and slopped it full of white and now-tacky paint. He followed the edges of the light cast in. And after much careful tracing and gently turns to make those perfect angles he found himself sitting in his new shrine. Surrounded with eyes of different colours and sizes on his walls. The white outline around him made him feel warm, like he was being embraced. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he felt something he hadn't truly felt drown out all other emotions. Happiness. 3:00 A.M. Dipper stayed in his bubble of warmth until well into the middle of the night. He stayed inside until all traces of natural light were dead and the moon was heavy high up in the stars. He pulled on gloves, sole heavy shoes, as well as a heavier jacket to keep himself warm in the chilled night. He slinked quietly out of the shack with a backpack full of paint in tote. He had a dark blue bandanna tied around his head, covering his nose and mouth from recognition and harsh paint fumes. Though he wouldn't lie, the nice little buzz he picked up from mystifying his room were rather pleasant. Dipper was careful to trek along the more discreet paths not only heading into the main part of town, but also while traversing through it. He avoided parked cars and windows, he stuck to hiding out in the empty alleys and made sure he was utterly alone before he began his duty. He shook up a can of old black paint and began to spray His beautiful eyes onto the grungy brick walls. His breath was stolen from him when he finished and sore he was seeing the utter mural of beauty that it up the brick wall. For an instant it almost looked like it was pure gold before fading back to black. He stayed out for lord knows how long that night, Spraying eyes onto walls, dumpsters, even tackled a few garbage cans on storefronts and much smaller eyes in lower and upper corners of doors and sorts. Dipper was practically buzzing with excitement as he walked down the main street. His gaze was alight in the presence of shining golden eyes and heightened appearances of the naturally dulled colours from the town's normal scheme. Dipper was just about to head back into his home when the newspaper of a local grocer caught his eye. He didn't think it was really who he saw on the front, but the familiar gleam of evil in those creeper's eyes filled him with disgust. He grabbed the paper and held it in trembling hands, practically ripped it open to reveal more of that pig's disgusting face. “Former Sweetheart to Return” Oh Dipper wanted to vomit. All he could see was red as he filled with dread and disdain. His colours were deflating from his anger. That damn deceitful pig was going to come back to Gravity Falls. The Gleeful creep didn't deserve to be here, to smear disdain on his home and ruin his work. Cause that's all the brat ever did was ruin stuff. He tried to posses Mabel as an object and tried to kill Dipper for Christ's sake. The twerp never was the same after Wierdmageddon. For a brief moment Dipper found himself uttering dark thoughts. “He should have killed you the moment he found you alive.” Dipper angrily shredded up the paper in his hands and dropped it with a grimace before turning away sharply to storm back home. Something wasn't right though, some big piece was still left untouched and he began to feel panic at the idea of not completing his job. His eyes were just beginning to look around fearfully before he heard a voice in the back of his head. “Look up,” It whispered, silky smooth from the base of his skull, almost like it resonated from the eye at the base of his neck. His head jerked up on command. He stared in confusion for a hot minute before he smiled, oh, oh he knew what he had forgotten now. He chuckled at his foolishness and trotted his way up a familiar dirt path. One that stretched partly through the forest but didn't dip too far into its depths. He hummed idly as he walked on with an almost idle stature, casually Dipper strode up to the impending tower, the water tower of Gravity Falls. He nibbed his lips with little ease in mind as he adjusted the straps of his backpack tighter and began the climb up the tower's latter. Somewhere in the back of his mind was screaming that this was a bad idea, but he couldn't stop- literally he felt so little control over his body at this point he just had to out. He had to make Bill happy. These became the idea and purpose plastered in Dipper's head as he found himself shuddering in the cold gusts of the wind. It was all so much stronger from up here, but the town looked so beautiful with all its golden eyes every time he manage to catch a glimpse of it. When he finally reached the top of the tower he stopped to pant, resting shoulder against the tank and holding himself up by the hands on his knees. He took a few good moments before pulling out his trusty paint and getting to work. “How the hell did Robbie do this?” Dipper muttered under his breath, that man and his stupid muffin- sadly a piece of work which still reside on the tower, but not for long if Dipper could help it. After a few excruciating minutes of careful navigation so as to fully look at his progress without throwing himself to certain death- he finally sighed in completion. Reveling in the warmth of gold that the eye emitted before the much smaller man. He turned away from the eye to look over Gravity Falls, the golden eyes glittered back and forth like secret little calling cards. Special and all for Dipper and Him alone to witness. It made him feel giddy, like it was a big secret to be kept between the two of them. Dipper sat down on the edge of the water tower's railing. His arms rested in the slots and legs dangling off the edge he sighed, only now realizing how exhausted he was. Sleep crusted up in the corners of his eyes, the balls burning in his skull for the ache of sleep. Dipper let his eyes slip shut for a few seconds, this time whenever he felt like that in pressure, the presence surrounding him Dipper didn't panic. Only sighed in relief as hands slid up his back and draped loosely around his shoulders. “You did so well my little Pine tree,” His voice whispered against the back of his neck and Dipper wanted to whine at the lack of lip to skin contact. “You can see what I see now, open your eyes and look out for me,” Dipper complied with little refusal, he peeled open tired orbs and looked out at the monochromatic scheme of the sleepy town of Gravity Falls. He gasped, the eyes he painted were looking back at him, they shined at him in glowing approval and bathed him in a calming warmth. Dipper's eyes fluttered when he felt the arms slinking around him tighten and pull him closer. Those cold lips pressed into the back of his neck and he arched his chest forward. Sighing as the heavy weight of anger inside him subsided and his eyes went a little hazy. “You're so angry Pine tree, relax kid. As much as I love how your emotions taste to me; There's too much work ahead of you for stupid things. So many great things to be taken care of,” He kissed his neck again and the same sensation over took him. “But for now you must rest, we have a very busy schedule ahead of us,” Dipper whined and shook his head. Much to Bill's amusement. “Why? What do you mean busy? I thought all I had to do was paint your stupid little eyes everywhere,” They weren't stupid. They were mesmerizing, beautiful, blessing. Bill just chortled against Dipper's back and shook his head. A bony hand came up and wrapped gently around Dipper's jaw. “You have to get prepared. We have guests coming very soon.” “Guests? Like, what monsters? Demons? Shit Bill are you going to open another rift and cause hell? I don't think I'm up for that yet.” “As much as those things sound good to me, no I'm afraid not I don't have the energy yet for any of that yet. No. You have some guests coming. I can still keep an eye on enemies my dear sapling. Looks like Ol' Sixer and Fez are coming back home.”

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

What’s a Puppet Without a Puppeteer

Chapter 3: Spread the Eye

Notes: Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyysmut Dipper spent the rest of his morning moping, curled up in the attic window and looking out its red stained glass onto the idiotic tourists and the beginning of the lush nature beyond them. It still beckoned him, calling for him to visit it again and reclaim its creatures as family. However, every time he attempted to move he was rattled with pain from his previous 'accident'. Not long after he had awoken and practically mutilated himself further in futile attempts to rid himself of these incriminating scars, Dipper had caved and began to conceal them instead. He had crudely wrapped up his hands and feet in a thick cloth to clot up the wounds. He looked own at his own hands and feet at the memory and grimaced at the speckles of blood seeping through the bandages. He had slapped a large, knee sized bandage on the back of his neck hoping it would do as a moderately decent cover-up. Lastly, he had very poorly tended to his back, he more or less just lathered on some Neosporin to ease the stings and slipped a baggy long sleeved shirt over his head. He could feel bits of blood here and there, wetting the fabric, making the fibers tacky and clingy against his skin. He couldn't get the memory out of his head, the hands that plastered themselves all over his body, holding him, making him feel so complete through mere contact and then suddenly forcing on him the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. Water pricked the corners of his eyes and he sniffled, wiping his nose and eyes clean with the back of his hand and barely flinching at the stings the action aroused. Turning his gaze from the patrons outside to looking back into his room, he mentally scolded himself at its filthiness. It was such a silly thought, but now with the actual sun shining in he could see the blotchy wood floors, pieces of trash and broken pencils littering every inch and not to mention the circle of candles now haphazardly strewn about the floor. A part of him wondered what Mabel would say. Oh god did he miss her, he wished she her were here, he wished he could call her to talk to her, cry to her and beg her to come home to him. “Don't be stupid,” he berated himself. “She's happier away from here. Away from you and your stupid craziness,”. Dipper shuddered and hugged his knees tighter. “No one wants to mope around with your pathetic ass. Stewing in your grimy attic and panicking about a monster that's not even real.” But it had to be real, right? He wasn't just making up all those dreams. He pulled out his phone and quickly tapped into the little google search bar: Am I crazy? Well shit now he was asking a search engine about his mental status. However, the websites offering quizzes seemed rather appealing. Was he schizophrenic? Bipolar? No he had to be Delusional? Disassociate? Maybe. What could give people nightmares but woke them up with real life injuries. Maybe he should go see a doctor. “ No you can't do that stupid then everyone in town will know your just psychotic. ” Oh Jesus Christ he was losing his mind over this. He tossed his phone aside and huffed out his aggression as it clattered to the floor. He pushed his face back into his knees so hard his eyeballs felt as if they were being pushed way back into his skull from the force of his knee caps pressing on them. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing after that, rubbing pale fingers through his hair as he shuddered weak little sobs into his knees. His tears soaking through the frabric of his sweatpants uncomfortably so. “ Stop crying. ” He jerked his head up and almost fell out the window, that voice echoed through his room almost forcefully and scaring the shit out of him. Again. “No. No not again this is not happening again I'm just- just hearing things just fucking voices this is fucking perfect.” He pushed the heels of his palms against his ears and clenched his eyes as he ranted to himself. “ You are not. Stop Crying. ” “It's not real this isn't real.” “ Yes, it is now- ” Dipper started shaking his head furiously, he lifted his hands from his ears only to slap them back down. He was trembling as he began a mantra of “No” and “Stop talking” and pounded his hands forcefully against his skull so hard it began to make him feel a throbbing inside of his said skull. “ STOP ” Dipper really did scream this time, hands wrapped around his wrists and yanked him onto the floor, sprawled on his back now and held down by those familiar bony hands Dipper began screaming more. Maybe if he screamed loud enough someone would hear him, come upstairs and snap him out of his delusion. He didn't get very far into his plan before a third hand appeared and slapped over his mouth. “ Open your eyes dammit look around. Look where you are. ” Dipper didn't respond immediately, staying very still for a few long moments before curiosity got the better of him. His eyelids very slowly peeled back and allowed his vision to be graced by the washed out grey tones of his bedroom. The hands still held on tight, way longer than Dipper began to feel was necessary before the voice spoke again.” Now. Im going to let go of you, you have to stop that incessant babbling nonsense. Its really annoying. Okay ?” Dipper blinked, once twice, then a third time for good measure. And very carefully he nodded his head in understanding. After a few seconds, the hands melted away and he pulled his wrists back into his chest to rub gingerly at the aching skin. “Where am I?” Dipper whispered, sitting up slowly to observe more of his surroundings. “ Wow it hasn't been that long kid, don't tell me you already forgot what my reigning reality looks like? ” That voice. Holy shit it was THAT voice it was His voice. “This cant be the mindscape? Wasn't it destroyed, wait are you telling me you really are alive?” “ So many questions, not enough time Pine tree listen up cause I have quite the wish list for you. ” “No.” “..... What? You don't even know what I'm- ” “After last time? No. I'd rather not.” Dipper began to stand up, walking around his room. “You can't be Him. He would have showed up by now- egotistical little triangular bastard.” “ Woah kid! Offense taken, come on just cause you can't see me means you're gonna keep retelling yourself that stupid little mantra you were flipping out about earlier? ” The voice huffed, it was beginning to sound grated and strained- irritated. “ I doubt you'd want to see me now. Everytime you have you've screamed at my present form. I mean I know it's a little gruesome but its not THAT bad kid. ” “That was you? The fucking shadow, thing or whatever? Wait-what the hell why did you slit my throat what was that for?” Dipper pouted. “ Just having some fun kid, besides, if you'd just listen to me I could explain it all to you. ” Bill paused, Dipper didn't respond, and the body-less voice took that as the go ahead. “ Okay. SO you smarty pants thought you killed me off. I can only hope that you puny little brain knows the one simple fact about pure energy, that important law that resides in every dimension? Surely you know the one. ” Dipper mulled the words in his head, and after a second he opened his mouth. “Energy... Energy can't be created or destroyed.” It clicked. “You. You're pure energy, you're made of energy- you weren't destroyed you were just-” “ Yeah yeah you know it. I was scattered out your pathetic realm, little pieces and fragments floating around. In order for me to regain a form, I need my energy to be united back into a form. I need to regain all those lost particles – which is what you are going to do for me my little sapling. ” “Why should I help you? What have you ever done for me? Hah just last night you attacked me.” “Don't be such a baby now. I only marked you. Its nothing but my eyes kid that's all I need. Well not really but its one of the simpler things I need. You gotta spread my word kid. Ever since my fall your little race has degraded all my eyes around town. I need you to put them back up. The more I see, the more I can regain my energy and get my form back.” The voice purred than, and Dipper felt the nail of a clawed hand trace gently over the back of his neck and sent a tingle of warmth and pleasure down his spine. That empty spot inside of him clinched. “I know what you've been feeling; empty, hopeless, just at a loss of what to do with your pathetic husk of a body. Dipper, I can fix that, fix you. Isn't that all you want? To enjoy your pathetic life again, run around in your little woods and chatter happily with that sister of yours?” There were lips at his ear now and Dipper closed his eyes to sigh, his knees felt weak all of a sudden and his chest felt warm. “I can make it all go away...I can touch you..” As if to prove his points a hand appeared from around his back and rested on Dipper's chest. He moaned, knees buckling as the black inside of him felt like it was being seeped out of his deepest cavities. “..And all that useless aching can be gone. Forever.” “Why...why do you need my help?” Dipper whispered, he couldn't make his voice any louder than a whisper, another hand touched his body and he groaned. “Because kid, I like you, you're my puppet. I have to take care of what's mine.” The voice sounded breathless in both of his ears now and Dipper whimpered. “How do you...how do you know what Im feeling?” “Cause I can feel it to. Inside myself, empty and pointless. Its like a heavy weight just-” “Crushing my insides and taking over my head..” Dipper gasped, the digits touching him clenched a little tighter and a rush of something strange rattled him down to his bones. The two were silent, heavy breathing was filling the room and Dipper found himself laying on the floor again. “Trust me. I know how you feel. I need this Pine tree. Dipper you need this just as much as I do.” “If I help you...what'll happen?” The boy slurred, his eyelids fluttering shut. “If you help me get my energy. I can be with you, in your realm. We can make a hole big enough for just me to slip through. If we're in the same world, you won't have to feel this way anymore sapling.” Dipper hummed, fingers gently brushed hair from his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. “I can hold you for real, suck that pain right out of you. I can do so much to you.” “Will you hurt me?” “Well if you're into that kind of thing-” “Dumbass I meant like- killing me. How should I know if you won't just off me once you get what you want?” “How about a deal?” “Bill, no-” A hand closed over his mouth again and he groaned in annoyance. He swore he could feel like, three? Four hands on him now? “Shh just listen to me. We are connected Pine tree. By the stars on your skin,” Holy shit did Dipper just feel lips on his shoulder? He whined and shuddered almost convulsively, that inkiness inside wavered again. “To the stars inside myself,” Another kiss to his opposite shoulder. “We are a prophecy Dipper. We are connected as much as you hate to believe me. We can make a deal if it will make you more easy going. A deal that will connect us, if I kill you Ill die. Vise-verse on you as well. It would be suicide to kill you.” Dipper's world spun, his eyes snapped open to find himself laying on his back. He could see a mass of shadows above him but he couldn't make it out as a distinct shape. He lost the effort of trying once he felt it press closer. Felt Him press closer. Hands slid up his sides and encircled his wrists. Something akin to a face pressed against his neck and Dipper was seeing stars. He could recognize the feeling of lips on his neck, below his ear and breathing that hot breath on wet skin. “B-b...Bill...” He gasped, his chest flipped, every time Bill's lips touched his skin the whole inside of him was sealed just a little bit more. He lost the ability to form coherent words as he felt jagged teeth scrape oh so gently down his neck and rest at his collar bone. His back arched and his eyes rolled back, his knees spread apart, making his heels dig into the wooded floor. He wanted to be closer, he wanted to feel more, he needed to. “Bill please..make it go away.” He gasped again and mewled, the lips moved down and rested above his sternum. He began to writhe below the shadowy form of Bill. Bill's form may have looked like a solid mass, solid enough to touch, to hold, but it barely felt like a graze when anything other than lips and hands touched him. “Is it a deal then Pine tree?” He cooed. ''Yes! Yes yes its a deal. Please keep- keep keep-” “shhh shhhh calm down, don't worry Pine tree. I wont stop anytime soon.” Bill chuckled, suddenly those lips were back on Dipper's neck and he felt those dangerous teeth smiling against his skin. “You taste so good. That bad energy inside of you. I can suck it right out-it makes me feel like I'm burning from the inside out. It makes me feel so much stronger.” “Please...take it out. Take all you need just-” He whimpered, tears slid down his cheeks. “I don't wanna feel so...broken anymore...” “Oh, Pine tree,” Bill cooed and ran fingers through Dipper's hair. “My little puppet, you are never to be broken. I will fix you, clean you, I can heal you.” Dipper felt tears roll down his cheeks, the words Bill uttered to him made his heart flutter, it made him feel warm inside and made something spark an interest deep inside in body. Specifically his lower regions. Dipper was going to open his mouth to speak again but he screamed. He screamed hands painted up on his form and slid over his skin. Up his shirt and raking nails over his flesh. Pressure began to build in his gut, pooling and coiling up as he arched up high. His neck looked as if it would snap from how he was bending his form. The hands circled his thighs and squeezed him in just the right places. It was when a hand began to wander lower, slowly down his stomach and teasingly light under the waistband of his pants. Warm weight, heavy and feeling so real just barely grazed the source of his rampid heat and whining.. The feeling was catharsis. Dipper's vision went blank as he felt his body contract, toes and fingers curled up tight, body wound and tight with convulsions as that pressure in the center of his chest felt like it was literally sucked from within him. He felt Bill's lips on the center of his chest, a grin on the demon's face. For a moment Dipper thought he could feel a solid body resting atop of him. But suddenly he was awake- in the real world. Brown eyes snapped open and a moan ripped from his throat in aftershocks of pleasure, his hips twitched and thighs tensed apart. His back rolled up from the floor before he let himself fall again. Panting and sweaty, he looked around to find that the colour scheme was back to normal. Dipper lay on the floor a mess, limbs sprawled apart and dampness sticking him to his clothes uncomfortably. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. Fucking peachy, now he had a mess between his legs he would have to clean up as well as his room. “Spread the word. Spread the Eye. Bring Him back.” Dipper had found his new mantra.

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

The weird kids.

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

keep it together, kid

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

Here’s the full pic for the @gfzine \o/ 

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

Dress me in your gaze tonight.

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

“Later, suckers!” 

my thought for this pic is like, Dipper was caught by some random pirates and Captain Cipher is here to take back what’s his. 

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

more BillDip coffee shop AU   ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[psychoneuroticremedies-blog]

Bill: *whispers* if you love me, blink.

Dipper: *didn't heart what he said* ??

Bill: *blows air at Dipper's face*

Dipper: *blinks*

Bill: Yessssssss!!