#Process optimization studies

[aquariusindia]

Aquarius Projects offers training in process optimization studies aimed at minimizing process upsets and improving system efficiency for better treatability in Vadodara, Gujarat, India.

[sanjida1]

AI HIGH TICKET COMMISSIONS

[ismailfazil1-blog]

Rapid Learning Mastery: How to Absorb Information Quickly and Effectively

Unleash Your Brain's Full Potential

Are you tired of struggling to retain information or feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of knowledge available? "Rapid Learning Mastery" is your guide to mastering the art of efficient and effective learning. Discover proven techniques and strategies to absorb information rapidly and effortlessly.

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[jupiterpilgrim]

The Pleasure Equation: When the Nerd Solves Everything, Including You

Nayeon x Male Reader

word count: 8.2k

a/n: Yo, my first published smut. I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me what you think.

—

You're lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, in the 21st century, universities still think pairing people for projects is a good idea. Plus, you're terrible at this subject. Advanced Calculus? They might as well call it "How to Ruin My Weekend." The only saving grace is that your partner, Nayeon, the biggest nerd in class, will handle most of it. For you, it seems like a golden ticket: she does the work, and you pretend you helped. It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

The doorbell rings. Of course, it’s her. You were expecting it—you could almost time Nayeon's nerdy punctuality. And, as always, she looks like the picture-perfect good girl—cardigan, glasses, skirt, that innocent, serious air of someone more interested in spreadsheets than in people. The kind of girl most guys wouldn't look at twice. But you, well, you had to look. It was obligatory since she was going to carry your weight in this project.

You open the door, and there she is, laptop under her arm, shy smile and everything you imagined. The nerd who's here to save your semester.

What you didn’t know—and God knew you were about to find out—is that Nayeon had planned a different type of study for this project.

She walks in with that confident stride that only people who are either extremely smart or who know the subject is your lifeline have. And honestly, you’re not ready for the energy she brings.

“Hi,” she says, glancing around your house, skipping any small talk.

“Hey, Nayeon. Nice to have you here.” You try to sound more enthusiastic than you really are. “Want anything? Water, juice, tea?” you offer, hoping to buy yourself a few more minutes of procrastination before facing the project.

“No, thanks.” She looks at you over her glasses, almost as if she’s analyzing your soul. “I think we should just get started. The sooner we finish, the better.”

“Yeah, better,” you think. And with that, off you go to your bedroom. Yes, the bedroom, because it’s the only place in the house that seems even remotely presentable. There are piles of books (that you haven’t read, just skimmed for the basics), notebooks with ridiculously short notes you took, some clothes scattered here and there... oh, and your unmade but perfectly comfortable bed, where you sit on the edge. It was a clinically tidy room compared to the living room or the kitchen.

Nayeon doesn't seem to care about anything. She sits at the desk chair and opens her laptop.

The project, of course, is about "Modeling Algebraic Functions for the Optimization of Industrial Processes." Or something equally mind-numbing that only Nayeon seems to understand. You’re more lost than someone trying to solve a Rubik's cube in the dark. And it’s all because of your dad, who, in his non-threatening way, persuaded you to follow the family career path. Damn Engineering (and tradition).

Nayeon, as always, is already deep into the work, fingers flying over the keyboard while her glasses slip to the tip of her nose, balancing dangerously between focused nerd and, well... ¿sexy? nerd?

Not that you’d admit that.

She glances at you, and for a second, you almost feel like she expects you to say something useful. Which, of course, would be a grave miscalculation. Literally.

“So, I thought you could start with the part about differential equations,” she says, making the suggestion with the ease of someone asking you to hold a cup, when what she’s really offering is a grand piano. “And then the graphs…”

You pretend to be genuinely interested. Which means nodding in a way that could be mistaken for understanding if someone looked quickly, but in reality, you're utterly lost.

“Oh, sure, differential equations…” you repeat, as if the words held any special meaning. They don’t.

Nayeon sighs and goes back to typing, clearly aware of the level of uselessness you're operating at. She’s probably already mentally dividing the entire project, calculating how many extra hours she'll need to cover for the fact that you're, essentially, dead weight.

“Maybe you could review the introduction,” she suggests, polite but with the patience of someone talking to a child who still doesn’t know the difference between shapes.

You scratch your head, pretending to read the introduction she’s already written. One, two lines. Everything looks very... professional. You attempt to seem helpful:

“You know, I think you’re... um... doing great with this. Maybe... maybe I should focus more on the creative part of the project, like... the presentation design?” you suggest, smiling, as if making a PowerPoint full of silly animations was an undervalued talent in academia.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Design?” Nayeon asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “In an Advanced Calculus project? You want to fill the presentation with glitter and stars, is that it?”

“Hey, glitter makes everything better,” you reply, defensive, but unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe throw in some memes to lighten the mood… People love memes... I guess.”

“I’m not sure if you're joking or if you've completely given up on life,” Nayeon mutters, with a short, dry laugh, returning to the keyboard.

You shift on the bed, trying to find a position that seems less like a desperate student and more like someone slightly focused on the project. The silence is broken only by the sound of her typing and your occasional murmur of fake approval: “Hmm, sure, that makes sense…”

It doesn’t.

Then, out of nowhere, Nayeon looks at you again, but this time with a different kind of curiosity. There’s something in her eyes, something that goes beyond pure calculation—and we’re not talking about the equations.

“You live alone, right?” The question comes casually, almost innocently. Almost.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” you answer, a bit confused by the sudden shift. “Why?”

“Just... curious,” she replies, but the smile she gives is far from innocent. “It must be nice living alone. I bet you can do whatever you want, right? No one around to hear...”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Like... I can have pizza for breakfast without being judged. And play video games late. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

Nayeon laughs, but in a way that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, like she knows something you don’t.

“And... what do you mean by ‘do whatever you want’?” you ask, hesitant but unable to resist the curiosity.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, looking away for a second. “Just thinking... it must be interesting. Having that kind of freedom.”

She pauses and looks directly at you again, her fingers sliding slowly across the keyboard, as if the project was now the last thing on her mind.

“Tell me something... what’s your type?” The question lands like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sending ripples of confusion through you.

You almost choke.

“My... type?” you repeat, as if it’s a math problem with too many variables.

“Yeah, like... what do you find attractive in someone?” Nayeon continues, her voice far too casual for the situation. She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours.

“Well, I dunno.” You shift uncomfortably. “I guess... someone fun, you know? Someone who can make me laugh.”

“Hmm. And me?” Nayeon tilts her head, her glasses now low enough to reveal her sharp eyes behind them. “Do I make you laugh?”

You freeze, because the right answer to this feels like a trap.

Sure, Nayeon’s made you laugh plenty of times, especially when she freaks out over losing half a point on a test. But that doesn’t seem like the kind of "laugh" she’s asking about.

“Uh, yeah, of course!” you respond, quickly. “I mean, in a good way. Not that I’m laughing *at* you, but... you know what I mean, right?”

She smiles, and you’re not sure if she’s satisfied with your answer or just amused by your nervousness.

“You know,” Nayeon continues, “I think I prefer guys who... know what they want. Guys with attitude.”

You nod, trying to process what’s happening.

“Oh, sure. Attitude is always good, right?” you reply, having no idea where this conversation is heading.

She looks at you in a way that feels almost predatory, and you realize that, somehow, whatever control you thought you had over this situation (even a little) now belongs entirely to her.

“Do you have it?” she asks. “Attitude?”

At that moment, you realize two things: first, Nayeon isn’t interested in solving differential equations today. And second, you probably should’ve agreed to do the graphs.

You feel the pressure of the question like a multiple-choice exam where all the answers seem wrong.

"Now?" you stammer, as if time itself is about to collapse. "Uh… I don’t know, I think we’re in the middle of a project, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt…"

"Interrupt?" She lets out a short laugh. "I think work went out the window a long time ago, don’t you?"

With that, she stands up, closing the laptop, and starts walking slowly around the room, as if inspecting the space, or maybe just teasing you on purpose. Every step she takes seems more choreographed than anything you’ve ever seen on stage.

Suddenly, she stops, untying her hair and shaking it loose.

"You know," she continues, turning her gaze back to you, "I thought of a way to make things more interesting."

Your brain, of course, is already in full panic mode, but your mouth, as always, insists on trying to sound casual.

"Really? Interesting how?" you ask, hoping the answer isn’t something like "Russian roulette."

She crosses her arms. You realize that, at some point, you completely lost any chance of controlling your own fate.

"A game," Nayeon says, with a sly smile. "Let’s play a game. What do you say?"

"What kind of game?" you ask, already regretting letting curiosity win over survival instinct.

"Oh, don’t worry, nothing too crazy," she replies, shrugging as if the suggestion were perfectly innocent. "Something fun, to relax, since the project clearly isn’t going anywhere today."

She steps closer to you, with that conspiratorial air of someone about to suggest something really dangerous.

"What do you think?" she whispers, lowering her voice. "You up for playing with me?"

"Err... depends on the game, right?" you reply, trying to sound laid-back.

Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, and the smile on her lips is pure provocation.

"Let’s see… How about something simple?" she suggests, her eyes never leaving yours. "Questions and answers. To test what you've been learning in the course."

"Just that?" you ask, half skeptical, half curious.

She speaks with a lightness that contrasts the intensity of her proposal:

"Of course not. For every question you get right, I’ll take off a piece of clothing."

You blink. Blink again. And then a third time, just to make sure you heard correctly.

"What?" you blurt out, a laugh escaping before you can control it. "You’re kidding, right?"

Nayeon crosses her arms, that crafty smile still on her face. Apparently, she’s not kidding.

"I’m dead serious. And if you manage to make me take off everything, I’ll give you a prize."

"A prize?" You try to keep your composure, but all you can think about is that maybe studying Calculus isn’t so bad after all. "What kind of prize?"

Nayeon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifts her skirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties — white, of course, because even in this, she has to be precise and teasing.

You swallow hard, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rises by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with global warming.

"Hm... okay, let’s go," you respond, trying to sound casual, but in reality, your mind is a complete mess. Who knew the class nerd had this side to her?

"Great." Nayeon giggles before adjusting her glasses and kicking off her shoes to, let’s say, get more comfortable. "First question: What’s the basic principle of algebraic function modeling applied to industrial process optimization?"

You stare at her. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy game. Your brain tries, with herculean effort, to remember what the hell that means.

"Hm… I think… it’s using equations to simplify a complex process?" you guess.

She smiles.

"Well, close enough. You got the general concept," she says.

She starts with the most innocent pieces, of course. The cardigan that you barely noticed she was wearing, because let’s be honest, your focus was more on the project — or on how not to do it... Well, at least that’s what you thought. Now, the focus has definitely changed. Every button that opens feels like a small personal victory. And before you know it, the cardigan is on the floor. She looks at you with a sly smile.

"Shall we continue?"

"Damn right, I’m enjoying this!"

"How do you define an improper integral?"

You blink. Of course, she’d come up with one of those questions you never knew the answer to.

"An… improbable integral?"

She laughs, a clear, almost musical sound that fills the room. If Nayeon were the type of person who enjoyed academically torturing others, she was definitely on the right track.

"I’ll give you a hint," she leans forward, just enough for you to see part of the top underneath her perfectly white blouse. "It has something to do with limits."

Limits. Of course. Yours are being tested in a different way. You vaguely remember the professor mentioning something about this, between naps.

"Oh, right! It’s when the interval goes to infinity, right?" you venture, your heart already beating faster.

"Correct!" She claps her hands, feigning innocent excitement that definitely doesn’t match the way her hands move toward the buttons of her blouse. One button, two, three... and soon, Nayeon’s blouse is off, revealing a black camisole, tight enough to show that she had planned all of this meticulously.

You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Now, you’re invested in the game.

"Next question: What are the three most common methods to solve a system of linear equations?"

Linear equations? Of course, you slept through that class. But then… things start to click.

"Elimination, substitution, and… matrices."

"You’re getting the hang of it, huh?" she says, her voice almost a purr.

Without hesitation, she leans back a little and, with a slow, sensual gesture, removes the black camisole, now revealing a delicate white bra, almost the same shade as her skin.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but somehow, you’re starting to enjoy the game, and oddly enough, math too. Well, this is definitely a more rewarding way to learn something you don’t like.

"Now an easier one," she teases, as if giving you a break. "How do you calculate the area under a curve?"

You swallow hard, not because of the question, but because Nayeon is crossing her arms in a way that’s far from casual, emphasizing even more what’s... well, on display.

"Definite integrals," you answer quickly, perhaps with more enthusiasm than necessary.

She gives a small round of applause, but this time doesn’t make any immediate move to take off anything else.

"Very good! But... are you sure you want to continue?" she asks, tilting her head, as her fingers rest on the zipper of her skirt.

You’re not sure if you want to continue the game or skip straight to the “prize,” but whatever it is, you need this girl naked. But for that you need to concentrate, but how would you do it? It's certainly not easy. Not when she runs her fingers, provocatively slow, to the zipper of her skirt.

“Alright, just one more, then,” she says, with a false lightness that only adds to the tension in the air, “a simpler one, I promise. If you get it right, I’ll take off one more piece. If you get it wrong… the game’s over.”

Your mind is racing, a mix of nerves and pure curiosity. After all, how did you end up here, being quizzed by Nayeon, The Nerd™? And now, The Nerd™ was about to strip.

Weird world.

“Okay… ask the question,” you say, trying to seem calm. Just trying.

Nayeon raises an eyebrow, still toying with the zipper of her skirt, but not pulling it down at all, just… waiting. “What’s Stokes' theorem?” she asks.

You almost laugh. Not really, more like a nervous chuckle that escapes before you realize… crap, you actually don’t remember.

“Erm…” you begin, desperately searching for some vague memory of a class you definitely slept through.

Nayeon doesn’t miss the look of panic on your face.

“Ah, struggling?” she asks, her voice sweetly sadistic. “How about a hint?” She leans in, the skirt still untouched, but in a deliberate move, she adjusts her bra, already more revealing than it should be, giving you a clear view of her generous cleavage.

You clear your throat, dying a little inside but trying to maintain your composure.

“Uh, it has to do with surface integrals, right? Something about flows… and vectors…”

“Exactly! Flows and vectors,” she repeats, satisfied. And then, in an almost innocent gesture, as if she were merely taking off an uncomfortable shoe after a long day, she pulls the zipper of the skirt, which slides down her legs, hitting the floor like it didn’t even matter, revealing her bare legs and white panties. Her thighs are even more perfect than you imagined—toned, lightly defined. Your throat dries up as if you’ve just run a marathon, but the only thing racing is your heart.

Honestly, you’re never really prepared for every time she gets more and more exposed. She places a hand on her hip, looking at you with that expression that makes you wonder how you never realized this before—that yes, Nayeon, the “nerd” of the class, was a girl far more complex than any Stokes theorem.

“So, what now? Want to continue or… are you satisfied?” She pouts adorably, challenging you, and you know, at that moment, that she wants you to keep going. After all, she’s having way too much fun.

You take a deep breath, determined, even though your mind is light-years away from any coherent thought.

“Sure. Next question. I’m going to win my prize.”

“What a determined guy,” Nayeon chuckles softly, with that teasing air, as if you were on a quiz show and not in some sort of erotically torturous strip game for the brave. “Alright then… explain the principle of superposition.”

She knew you had no idea. You knew that she knew. But what did it matter? What mattered was that your eyes were glued to every movement she made. She tilted her head, playing with the strap of her bra.

You think for a moment. Superposition… electric fields… sure, you got this.

“It’s when, hmm…” your voice cracks, but you force yourself to sound confident. “It’s when the sum of the effects of multiple causes is equal to the sum of the individual causes. Each field acts like the others aren’t even there.”

She leans in, subtly, fiddling with the strap of her bra, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Exactly,” she says, letting the strap fall with a slow motion from one shoulder. And then, from the other. “Congratulations.”

The bra falls to the floor.

You try, honestly try, to keep your focus on what’s happening, but there’s a problem. Actually, two, and both of them are right in front of you, fully exposed. No matter how much your mind insists that you need to concentrate on the game… you simply can’t.

“J-just one more question, right?” You stammer, desperately trying to focus on your shoes, the wall, anything but… well, Nayeon, and the fact that she was now practically naked.

She leans forward slightly, arms “casually” crossed, and you’re convinced she did this just to make sure your brain imploded. One of her breasts lightly brushes against her arm, and your mind screams something between HELP and THANK YOU.

"Exactly,” she says, and there’s a hint of malice in her voice, that tone that indicates she knows by now you’re one step away from a complete meltdown. “One last question. If you get it right… you win your prize. If you get it wrong… you’ll do the entire project alone.”

Your head throbs, struggling to focus on anything besides her smooth skin and the hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

“Alone?” you repeat, dumbfounded. A simple word, but you can barely get it out.

She bites her lip, enjoying herself. And then, in the most seductive voice possible, she drops the bomb:

“Of course… if you mess up now in the final minutes, you’ll have to do it all on your own. But if you get it right, you’ll see what’s under this,” she pulls at the side of her white panties slightly, just enough to let your imagination spin. “And who knows what else…” Her voice is a caress wrapped in pure temptation.

Yeah, it’s worth the risk.

Focus, you tell yourself, as if that’s remotely possible. Here you are, in a state of complete mental confusion, and Nayeon is there, almost naked, suggesting there’s just one question left before… well, paradise. And hell, too, because clearly, you wouldn’t survive doing this fucked-up project alone.

“Alright, let’s go,” you force the words out. “What’s the last question?”

Nayeon smiles in a way that says, I got you. And of course, she did. She leans in again, this time closer, her panties still firmly in place, but for how long?

“Ready for this?” she murmurs, with the tone of a final temptation. “What law of electromagnetism describes the relationship between the circulation of a magnetic field along a closed path and the electric current passing through the surface enclosed by that path?”

You freeze. Your mind is almost there, trying to grab the answer from some corner not focused on the fact that Nayeon is practically naked in front of you.

“Uh…” you begin, Nayeon sways her hips as she waits. “It’s… it’s…” you struggle. Nothing. Your mind is completely blank, a screen of static.

Nayeon sighs, as if she’s genuinely disappointed. Of course she’s not. She’s having way too much fun for that.

“Need a hint?” she offers, with a smile as sweet as it is devastating.

You nod desperately. Anything, for God’s sake, anything to help!

She whispers softly, “This law introduced the concept of ‘displacement current.’”

You blink, and then, as if by some miracle, the answer comes to you. But before you can speak it aloud, Nayeon leans in again and your traitorous eyes glance at her exposed breasts.

You almost forget the answer entirely, but a slip or whatever that was makes you say, “Ampère-Maxwell’s Law,” your voice trembling, unsure if physics is about to save you or be the last nail in the coffin of your sanity.

Nayeon looks you up and down.

She approved.

Slowly, as if savoring the moment, in a exaggeratedly calculated movement, she pulls her panties down, revealing everything.

Her curves are so smooth they seem hand-carved by some Renaissance artist with a thing for naughty nerd girls. Her entire body is a work of art, every inch of her pure perfection, and as she moves closer, you feel like you’re about to lose control for good.

Nayeon sits beside you, her legs slightly apart so you can see her tight little pussy. She looks you up and down, the same look that used to seem like someone fully focused on her studies, now carrying much more obvious intentions.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem as out of control as you really are.

"Yeah... Very much..." you respond, your voice rougher than usual, and before you know it, Nayeon is leaning in closer, her body heat practically radiating onto you.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispers, her lips just inches from yours. The suggestion lingers in the air, and your body seems to move on its own. Your hand rises, hesitant, until it reaches her breasts, your fingers feeling the smoothness of her skin and the firmness that makes you forget about any equation or college project. You squeeze lightly, and Nayeon lets out a soft sigh that drives you even crazier.

She leans in more, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes are gleaming.

"I’ve always liked you, you know?" she confesses, lightly biting her lower lip as her hand slides down your chest. "I've always thought you were really hot… and smart, too. You just needed a little help focusing on what matters. You’ve got potential, you just need to get rid of the distractions."

You chuckle nervously, still trying to process what’s happening.

"I never imagined you were like this… You always seemed so… well-behaved." The words come out with difficulty, your mind still reeling between what you thought you knew about Nayeon and what you're discovering now.

She laughs softly, amused, her eyes half-closed as she replies.

"You can’t judge a book by its cover," she says, her voice almost a whispered secret, as if she’s letting you in on something few people are privileged to know.

She then pulls your hand to her waist, and you squeeze, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body under your fingers. Nayeon’s body fits against yours in a way that feels almost orchestrated. Her hands, agile and confident, slide down to your thigh, in a way that makes your breathing quicken even more.

And then you feel her touch on your groin. It’s a slow tease, and she looks into your eyes with a smile that’s almost victorious.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.

Your heart is racing so fast you can barely think of a coherent response, but you nod, without hesitation.

"I do." The word escapes your lips, more of a groan than a response.

Nayeon smiles, that wicked smile you would never have associated with the girl who sat in the front row of the class.

"I’ve been dying to," she murmurs, the heat between you two rising with each second, promising much more than just an intellectual debate.

Nayeon kneels between your legs and prepares to take off her glasses. At that moment, it seems like the last facade of the “well-behaved nerd” is about to fall along with them. But you, in a sudden impulse of something even Freud would hesitate to analyze, reach out and say, almost automatically, “No, leave the glasses on. I like you like that.”

She stops, her fingers still hovering over the frames, and smiles in a way only someone about to change your fate could.

"Really?" She tilts her head, clearly liking the idea. Not just liking it—loving it. The kind of smile she gives you is one of someone who’s just gained a new strategic advantage in the game.

"Can you… do it… with the glasses on?" you ask, and honestly, now that the words are in the air, the question seems less weird than it should.

"Of course. If that’s what you want," Nayeon replies, the smile gaining an edge of provocation that makes you wonder if she hadn’t planned this all along.

She reaches for your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. Nayeon touches your cock, and the sensation makes you realize how small her hands are. With incredibly soft fingers, she grips it firmly, as if evaluating something rare, a treasure she’s just found. Her eyes, still behind the lenses, look up at you.

"Wow..." she murmurs, impressed. "It’s so… big and thick.”

If you had any chance of keeping your composure, it vanished with that sentence.

"Your hand… is so soft," you manage to say, your brain desperately trying to keep up with what’s happening.

Nayeon smiles.

"Oh, if you liked that, just wait until I put it in my mouth."

And that’s exactly what she does. Nayeon spits into her palm, the quick, indecent sound echoing in the room, and starts stroking you, her touch now sliding with the ease of something well-lubricated, almost clinical—if it weren’t absolutely pornographic.

And then, with little warning, she swallows.

Just like that. As if she’d been trained at some secret school of forbidden pleasure, her mouth wraps around your cock, warm, wet, and with a desire bordering on voracious. She looks up at you from below, her glasses still firmly in place.

You writhe in pleasure. Nothing else matters. Not the project, not life’s worries. Just Nayeon, and the way she sucks, kisses, and takes you deep, with a dedication that would make anyone believe she’s indeed “studying” something.

"I’m going to use my breasts now," she says, stopping briefly, her voice slightly hoarse, as she adjusts her breasts, squeezing them around your cock.

Ah, Nayeon’s breasts. Warm, soft, and incredibly seductive, they create the perfect “pillow” as she starts giving you a titjob. And the glasses? Still there, perfectly framing her face, turning this whole thing into an improbable, yet wonderful fantasy.

The sensation of her breasts pressing against your cock is a next-level delight. Nayeon, with a mischievous look and a voice barely above a whisper, asks, "Are you enjoying this, babe?"

You can only groan in response, the sensation so intense that words refuse to form properly. Her breasts move up and down, creating a warm, sweaty pressure that’s almost indescribable. She adjusts the rhythm.

"This is..." you manage to say, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Fuck, this is amazing."

The pleasure builds, a rising heat that seems to have a life of its own as Nayeon keeps working her magic. Her breasts, pressing and rubbing with delicious intensity, create waves of pleasure that only get stronger.

As the rhythm quickens, Nayeon gives a satisfied smile. Her breasts continue to move up and down, the sensation around your cock hot and wet, and you feel the pressure and heat mounting.

You start to squirm, the sensations growing more and more intense. The pleasure is so overwhelming it feels like your body is on the verge of exploding. Nayeon adjusts the pressure and pace, making every touch and movement you feel even more intense.

“Am I making you feel good?” Nayeon asks.

You can only nod, the feeling of being on the brink of climax almost overwhelming. Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel yourself nearing the point of no return... something Nayeon hadn’t anticipated.

Then, just as the pleasure reaches an almost unbearable level, you cum. The first spurt surprises her, landing on her face. She stays there, wide-eyed and gasping, her glasses now smeared with your semen. She accepts what happened and keeps stroking you, and the second, weaker spurt drips down onto her breasts, slowly trickling. She finishes the job by rubbing your cock on her chest, spreading your cum all over her breasts until they’re thoroughly messy. When she stops, you exhale, feeling like you’re in paradise.

“Fuck… that was so damn good, Nayeon…”

She stays still for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and indignation. The intensity of your orgasm seems to have caught her so off guard that even she needs a moment to process it.

“Why did you cum?!” Nayeon asks, removing her glasses, her voice filled with a mix of irritation and unfulfilled desire. “You haven’t even fucked me yet!”

Breathless and slightly embarrassed, you try to defuse the situation.

“Well, take it as a compliment,” you say, a sheepish smile forming on your face. “You’re just too hot for me to handle.”

Luckily for you, this makes Nayeon smile, the irritation melting into a flush. She relaxes, though still with a teasing edge.

“Tsk. But next time, don’t cum on my glasses,” she says, her voice softer now. “But if it felt good for you, I guess I can forgive it. Just know that I’ll make sure you get hard for me again,” she says with an authority that makes her even more irresistible.

Nayeon moves closer, slowly, like a predator about to capture its prey, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and mischief. You feel the air shift as she approaches, as though the entire room is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low but filled with an authority that makes you obey without hesitation.

In an instant, you’re naked, sitting on the bed, vulnerable, your heart pounding faster. Nayeon watches you, a smile spreading across her lips, like she’s admiring a masterpiece she’s about to perfect. She sits beside you with a calculated calm, and before you know it, her lips are on yours—soft at first, then more intense, as if she’s learning every inch of your mouth.

Between kisses, her hand starts exploring your body, moving slowly, until it reaches exactly where you want it most. Her fingers wrap around your cock, and the touch is... electrifying. It’s not just any touch; it’s the kind that knows exactly what it’s doing. She strokes you lightly, almost teasingly, while her lips pull away just enough for her to whisper in your ear:

“Remember that time in class when the professor asked me to help you with an assignment?” She pauses, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you to fuck me until I came.”

The effect of her words is immediate. Your entire body reacts before your mind can even catch up. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, almost as if it’s following an unspoken command. She feels it and giggles softly, a sound just as provocative as every move of her fingers.

“Look at you…” she says, her voice full of amusement and a hint of mockery. “You’re getting hard for me again, aren’t you? What a naughty boy.”

Your heart races, and you can hardly respond. All you can do is gaze at her while your desire skyrockets. Her hand moves slowly and deliberately, teasing every part of you, while her eyes stay locked on yours, as if savoring every second.

“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Nayeon asks, her voice soft but filled with a promise you know she’ll fulfill.

“So much,” you reply, almost breathless, anticipation taking over every inch of your being.

She smirks—that dangerous smile that says, "Exactly what I wanted to hear." Her lips return to yours, but this time there’s more urgency, a hunger building with every passing moment. Her hand moves with more intention now, and your excitement grows at an unimaginable rate.

“I knew you were like this…” she murmurs between kisses, her lips nearly glued to yours. “Such a horny little thing, always wanting more.”

She tightens her grip slightly, making you squirm, the pleasure coursing through you with every squeeze, every word whispered like a secret shared only with you.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her eyes glint as her hand continues its strategic work. “You like me teasing you.”

“Yes,” you manage to say, your voice shaky with desire.

Nayeon pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile blending amusement with seduction.

“Good, because I love teasing you…” she says, then leans down, as if she’s about to do something even more daring. Her lips brush against your neck, lightly biting as her hand slides lower, teasing and gripping, leaving you on the edge of collapse.

“Think you can handle another round?” she asks, her voice now full of challenge.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you respond, trying to keep your composure but knowing you’re completely at her mercy.

“Let’s see then,” she whispers against your skin, and before you know it, she’s moving down, her lips traveling across your body, and you lean back onto the bed. She leaves a trail of kisses and bites along your chest and stomach, making her way lower.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and with one final mischievous smile, she leans back up just enough to brush her lips against yours without fully kissing.

“Are you ready to fuck me now?” she asks.

And without a doubt, you are.

Nayeon lies back on the bed, slowly pulling you on top of her until you feel the warmth of her body against yours. The way she molds perfectly beneath you feels like she was made for this. Your hands trace the contours of her breasts, fingers pressing gently against her skin as you slide into her slowly, savoring every second. Your lips meet hers in a slow, intense kiss, tongues moving in sync with the rhythm of your hips—thrusting in and out, deepening with each stroke.

She moans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your whole body, making you speed up a little while still keeping control. Nayeon breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, eyes closed, and you take the chance to kiss her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. "You like this, don't you?" you whisper in her ear, your voice low and husky as you keep thrusting, feeling how tightly she clenches around you.

"Fuck… yes," she breathes out, her nails now digging into your back, scratching you with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."

You obey without thinking, picking up the pace, each thrust deeper and more deliberate. Her moans grow louder, almost turning into screams, and it only drives you to go harder. You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, sucking her lower lip between yours as your hips move in a nearly frantic rhythm. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with her broken moans and your own heavy breathing.

"You're so fucking hot," you say between kisses, softly biting along her jawline as you lose yourself in the sensation. "So tight… fuck, Nayeon."

She opens her eyes, looking at you with a mix of challenge and pleasure, her face flushed and sweaty. "Come on, fuck me harder… don’t stop," she pleads, pulling you down for another kiss, this one desperate, as if she needs every touch of yours to survive. You oblige, thrusting harder, while her moans turn into muffled cries as your mouths stay connected.

But then, you decide to switch positions. Science, after all, is about experimentation. You position her at the edge of the bed, Nayeon's legs lifted and spread wide, her pussy on full display—pink and pulsing, inviting. The sight makes you lose control for a moment as you grab her thighs, pulling her closer to you. With one hand, you line up your cock, the tip already slick with excitement, before sliding it inside, feeling the warmth wrap around you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with both your moans.

Nayeon looks up at you, a wild gleam in her eyes, completely different from the girl everyone thinks they know. "You're such a filthy pervert," she growls through gritted teeth, her voice low and dripping with lust. "Fucking your study partner like this, so dirty… Do you see what you've done to me? The little nerd everyone thinks is so innocent, and look where I am now, all spread out for you…"

The sound of her voice, the moans slipping out as you fuck her harder and deeper, only makes you lose more control. "Innocent?" you mutter, your breathing ragged. "You pretend to be the good little student, but with me, you love being a slut, don’t you?"

She lets out a wicked laugh, cut off by a louder moan as you thrust even deeper. "I fucking love it. I love how you make me forget everything… I love being your little slut. I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."

Your movements grow faster, each thrust pulling louder moans from her. You grip her thighs tight, pulling her into you with each thrust, your eyes fixed on the sight of your cock sliding in and out, completely soaked. "Look at you," you growl, your voice dripping with taunt. "So depraved… No one would guess that the nerdy girl from class is here, begging to be fucked like a whore."

Nayeon lets out a long, drawn-out moan, almost a scream, her body arching beneath you, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "Yes! Fuck me harder, fuck! I want you to know this is what I love… I love being the little nerd only you can fuck like this. Faster, harder!"

You don't hesitate, your hips slamming against hers in a frenzied pace, the heat and pressure of every thrust consuming you both. Her legs tremble, and you keep pounding with force and precision. "Admit it, Nayeon," you say through gritted teeth, picking up the pace. "You love being my little slut…"

She opens her eyes, staring at you with an almost possessive intensity. "Fuck, yes! I’m your slut. Fuck me more, fuck my pussy like I’m only yours…" You lower yourself onto her, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of your heat into her through the kiss as you keep thrusting, and between desperate, erratic kisses, she gasps, "Take me from behind now. I want you deep inside me, you filthy pervert!”

You pull away from her, and Nayeon promptly positions herself on your messy bed, arching her back, ready. Your approach is almost reverent. You position yourself behind her as you lower your head slowly, your eyes tracing the sight she offers—her wet pussy, swollen with excitement, and just above, her tight little ass, teasing you. She’s so exposed, so vulnerable, yet there’s a confidence in her, like she’s fully aware of what’s coming. And that’s exactly what turns her on.

Before making a move, you let your warm breath brush against her skin, sending shivers through her body. Nayeon lets out a shaky sigh, and her back arches even more. “Don’t make me wait…” she murmurs, a mix of urgency and need in her voice.

With a sly grin, you lower your mouth, and your tongue finally touches the slick entrance of her pussy. The taste is addictive, just as you suspected. You start with soft, long licks, gliding along the length of her lips, savoring every drop of her juices. Nayeon responds immediately, letting out quiet moans, her breathing already quickening.

“You… know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks, her voice broken by little gasps.

You chuckle lightly between licks but don’t answer. Your hands firmly grip Nayeon’s ass, keeping her in place as your tongue slides deeper, exploring her sensitive folds. Each time you graze the entrance of her pussy, it clenches, almost begging to be filled, but you refuse to give her everything at once. Instead, you decide to tease her even more.

Sliding your tongue upward, you slowly trace circles around her tight little asshole, making it wet with your saliva. The reaction is instant—Nayeon’s body trembles, and her moans intensify. “Oh my God… keep going… please…” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea.

You alternate between quick, gentle licks, sometimes focusing on her swollen, slick pussy, other times on her sensitive ass, driving her to the brink of losing control. Your tongue dances between the two spots, teasing and pleasing her at the same time. With every new touch, Nayeon’s moans grow louder, more urgent.

“You… you like this, don’t you, you pervert?” she asks with a muffled voice, her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I love how you taste,” you murmur against her skin.

She lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Of course you do, I’m… delicious.” And you can’t help but agree. Your tongue continues to explore, licking deep into her pussy and then sliding up to her ass, enjoying the way her body reacts to every touch. Your fingers dig into her ass cheeks harder, leaving red marks on her pale skin.

Nayeon’s moans mix with uncontrollable whispers, each word escaping between ragged breaths. “Please… you’re killing me,” she begs, her voice thick with pleasure, her eyes half-closed in pure lust. “Fuck me… just fuck me already!”

Her plea is desperate, loaded with an almost imperious urgency, and you, with a mischievous smile, position yourself behind her, watching as she pushes her ass higher, her slick pussy begging for more. “You sure you can take it?” you tease, your hands already gripping her hips, but before she can even respond, you pull her back, aligning yourself with precision, the head of your cock brushing against her lips.

“Just do it, fuck,” Nayeon shouts, her tone commanding but dripping with so much desire that you can’t resist. In one swift motion, you thrust into her, and the wet heat of her pussy envelops you completely. Pleasure shoots through you like an electric current, and she arches her back, pushing against you, as if begging you to go deeper, faster.

You start slowly, savoring each thrust, each inch sliding in and out of her, but soon the pace picks up, driven by the uncontrollable moans pouring out of Nayeon. “Faster… harder,” she moans, her voice faltering with each deeper thrust, and you don’t hesitate. Your hands sink into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her steady as you speed up, the thrusts becoming more intense, more brutal.

“Look at you, so prim and proper in class, but here…” you say between thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Here you’re just my little slut. The nerd who loves being fucked like a whore.”

Nayeon moans loudly, her voice breaking into wicked laughter. “Is that what you want, huh? To know the nerd loves being fucked like this, like a depraved little slut… Make me scream, fuck!”

With each slap to her ass, she moans louder, her pale skin turning red with every hit. “Hit me harder,” she begs, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. And you oblige, slapping her harder, leaving red marks as you bury yourself deeper inside her.

“You’re an unbelievable slut,” you growl, picking up the pace, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate moans from her. “You pretend to be so good, but look at you now… begging for more.”

“I’m your slut,” she screams, pushing her ass back against you even harder. “Do whatever you want with me… I love being fucked like this, fuck! Make me yours, make me cum.”

You keep going, your thrusts becoming frenzied, your hips moving with an uncontrollable speed and intensity. “Fuck, look at you,” you taunt, feeling your own pleasure building. “You love being treated like this, like a desperate little whore. Scream for me, Nayeon.”

“Yes, yes!” she screams, her voice thick with pleasure, almost hoarse. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, babe!”

Her body trembling as her climax approaches. Suddenly, she arches her back, pushing her ass harder against you, and her voice cracks as she screams, “I’m... going... to cum!”

Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock, pulsing and shaking as she’s overtaken by the orgasm, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy while your relentless thrusts continue. But you don't stop. Her pleasure only drives you further, each thrust pulling everything out of her, Nayeon’s body writhing, each scream feeding your own growing desire.

“Yeah… Fuck me, make me yours,” she keeps begging, even in the middle of her own climax, completely surrendered to the sensation.

You can feel your own orgasm building, heat rising fast, pressure mounting. “I’m going to cum,” you warn, your voice rough and broken, unable to stop as the final thrusts send you both over the edge.

The feeling of her pulsating pussy around your cock pushes you to the brink, and with one last frustrated groan, you pull out. Nayeon gasps for a moment, recovering from her orgasm as she kneels down on the floor, almost like she already knows what to do – and, honestly, she does. Her eyes lock on you, her face slightly flushed, and her mouth already open, waiting eagerly like the diligent student she is.

You grip your cock with one hand, still throbbing, and bring it to her lips. With her mouth wide, Nayeon wraps her lips around you once more, sucking softly with a gentleness that almost belies the fevered desire etched across her face. You pull out of her mouth, stroking yourself quickly, feeling the pressure mounting further.

Nayeon waits, obedient, with her tongue stretched out, her eyes hungry and fixed on you, knowing exactly the effect that has on you. When the moment hits, the first spurt of cum lands on her warm tongue, and Nayeon doesn’t even blink. She takes it all in with pleasure, as you empty yourself into her mouth, your body shuddering, nearly out of control.

She keeps her mouth open the entire time, her tongue coated in your cum, and when you finally finish, she closes her lips, licking them as the taste spreads. With perfect manners, she shows you her full mouth, eyes full of playful mischief, and then, without breaking eye contact, she swallows it all in one gulp, her throat moving slowly.

“See?” she says with a satisfied smile, as if she’d just passed a test with flying colors. “I swallowed it all without spilling a drop.”

But, of course, Nayeon, ever the overachiever, wasn’t finished. Before you can catch your breath, she leans in again, taking your sensitive cock into her mouth, sucking with an intensity that makes you moan involuntarily. The jolt of pleasure is so sharp that you try to pull away, your body trembling, but she holds you firmly, her mouth working at a pace that borders on cruel.

“Fuck!... I can’t take any more!” you try to protest, your voice breaking, but Nayeon just hums in response, pulling you out only long enough to say, “Not yet,” before closing her lips around you again, sucking you until, finally, she decides she’s satisfied.

When she releases you, you’re left gasping, almost paralyzed from the intensity of it all. Nayeon smiles sweetly, victorious, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers before saying with calm satisfaction, “Mmm, Now that was delicious.”

—

As you desperately gulp water from your bottle, the silence that follows your impromptu "study session" lingers heavily in the air, a strange return to reality. Nayeon had stood up, her hair still slightly messy and a small smile playing on her lips, before heading to the bathroom. She walked with the confidence of someone who had just solved a particularly tricky math problem.

And now you're here, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water as she washes her face and cleans her glasses, removing any trace of... well, *you*. Then, because life loves to remind you that nothing is ever simple, your mind starts to wander. What, exactly, just happened? Oh, right. You were working on a project. A project that, incidentally, hasn’t moved an inch forward.

Nayeon steps out of the bathroom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor, dressing herself piece by piece, taking her time, like you were a couple with decades of shared intimacy. She finishes by adjusting her glasses, almost like she’s putting a crown back on after a victorious battle. She sits back down in her chair, opens the laptop as if nothing had happened, and lets out a satisfied but determined sigh.

“Alright,” she says, as if she hadn’t just left you weak-kneed. “Let’s get back to the project.”

You stare at her, incredulous. As if it were possible to get back to the project after that.

And then you realize you’re still naked. You quickly slip on your boxers and pants.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can focus on my part right now,” you admit, your voice still a bit hoarse.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” She smiles that smile—a mix of mischief and... surprisingly efficient academic prowess. “As long as you keep fucking me, of course. I have to be rewarded somehow.”

You’re speechless for a moment, because, well... you don’t exactly have a counterargument. In fact, it seems like the best deal you’ve ever made in your life.

“Deal,” you say, trying to sound cool, as if you weren’t absolutely thrilled by the arrangement.

Inside, though, you’re jumping for joy.

She adjusts her glasses, watching you for a moment, and you notice that glint in her eyes—a mix of ego, intelligence, and... something else that makes your heart race. Or maybe it’s just the recent sex.

Hard to say.

“But,” she cuts through your thoughts with a serious tone, “no one can know about this. We have to meet in secret. No telling anyone.”

“I swear I won’t tell.”

You wonder how you ended up in this situation, but the answer seems obvious. Who in their right mind would turn down a request like that?

She smiles, satisfied, and turns her attention back to the laptop, as if everything were perfectly resolved.

“Besides,” Nayeon adds, without looking up, “if you need help with any other subject, you can count on me. After all, I think we work well together, don’t we?”

You just nod, but there’s something about her—something between the proud nerd and the bold confidence—that drives you wild. Wild with desire, of course, but also something deeper. And as you watch her, so focused, adjusting her glasses like she’s planning the next phase of a secret mission, you realize that you’re falling for the class nerd.

Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she has a way of disarming you at every turn.

But it’s more than that. It’s as if every time she looks at you with that “know-it-all” air or talks about a complicated academic concept, your mind equates it with something incredibly sexy. And suddenly, your love life has turned into an equation you can’t—and don’t want to—solve.

And, of course, the fact that she’s amazing in bed doesn’t hurt, either.

“Should we meet tomorrow?” you ask casually.

Nayeon doesn’t even look up, just gives a small “mm-hmm” of confirmation, her fingers still typing away.

“Your place again. Same time. Clean up your room... And answer the door in your boxers.”

She glances at you slightly, smiling, and you know exactly what that smile means. And, well, you’re not in any position to complain. In fact, if studying had always been like this, maybe you'd have been the best student in class.

—

As you walk Nayeon to the door, you can’t help but think that maybe you’ve uncovered the true secret to academic success. And who would have thought it was a sexy nerd with glasses who secretly turned out to be a naughty girl who liked sneaking off for sex?

As she leaves, you can’t help but smile when your eyes meet one last time. Not just because of the deal you’ve just made, but because, for the first time in a long while, you’re genuinely excited to "study" with someone. Suddenly, the academic world seems a lot more interesting.

You close the door, but something lingers in the air. Maybe it’s the smell of your sweat—you still haven’t showered, after all. Maybe it’s the trace of Nayeon’s perfume. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one of the most unexpectedly erotic adventures of your life.

-----------

A/n: Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Thanks for reading.

[bortalis]

My concepts for the development progress of an Iterators Puppet

-my ideas below

-Feasibility Study  

[1]: First autonomous control module, any instruction to be given must be done manually through physical means (the keys), outputs were shown through the screen. A very primitive system, however, did its job proving the greater machine concept was achievable. While it does look like a lens above the monitor, this was a simple status gauge for benchmarking.

-Prototyping and Development  

[2]: Now with the capability to wirelessly and audibly communicate to receive instructions and inputs. The system was no longer directly integrated into the facility, and resided on the first instance of an iterator's arm. This was considered a feat due to the complications with isolating the control module from the rest of the iterators components, while keeping processing power. A permanent connection/umbilical was needed to sustain life and function though. 

To “talk” back, they were crafted with multidimensional projectors, the mobile arm allowing the angles and variance for this projection. Only later into development were advanced speakers installed for optimized understanding, however the extra computing power required to synthesize proper speech was found to strain the contained module, so this function had rare use in the end.

[3]: At this point there was a change in perspective in the project. What once were machines to simply compute and simulate, were now planned to be the home, caregiver, and providers. The further the project came to fruition the more religious importance was placed upon these “random gods”. From this stance not only did the puppets have to manage and control their facilities, they had to communicate with the people and priests. To represent benevolent beings who will bring their end and salvation. In this process iterators began to take a more humanoid shape, to better reflect their parents. Development was focused on compacting the puppet closer to the size of an ancient for this purpose. This stage was the first to incorporate a cloak/clothing into their design considerations, to further akin themselves in looks. The cloak would hide the iterators' engineered bodies and give a body to their silhouette. 

[4]: As bioengineering and mechanics were rapidly progressing due to the void fluid revolution, this allowed plenty of margin for developing the outer design of the iterator puppets. This prototype was the first to incorporate limbs for the purpose of body language. This was another step in the drive to give a body to their random gods.

-Final Iterations

[5]: First generation iterators had the final redesign of puppet bodies. Far different from their first designs, they are fully humanoid. Their bodies are shaped to be organic and as full of life as they could at the time. Their center of sapience has fully settled within their body, as can be seen as their unconscious use of limbs without the direct intention for communication. This can also see how they manage their work, where many of the functions (which can be done with just an internal request) are operated through physical gestures of their limbs. Their puppet chambers also allow for full comprehensive projection, where many of their working monitors are displayed. It is seen how iterators prefer to utilize their traversal arm to transfer between the current working projection window.

These designs were hardy and nearly self-sufficient, only requiring minimal power from their umbilical to charge. (However was still limited in the terms of internal power production, for this first generation extensive batteries sufficed)

[6]: Later generation not only incorporated advanced bioengineering internally, but externally. While still a hardened shell, their body plates have been incorporated into the organics of the puppet, maintaining the protective requirements while barely leaving a trace of hinges or plates. This “soft” skin had drawbacks, such as reduced durability to the first generations, this was offset by the greatly enhanced repair speeds and capability this type of skin allowed.

Internal power generation was implemented into these late generation models. If the case arose, the Puppet could be disconnected from their umbilical and still be conscious from an undefined period of time. (However this would limit the operating capacity of the puppet when running self sufficiently) This greatly eased maintenance works, as the Puppet could still run the greater facility wirelessly while work was done on the chamber, arm or whatever as needed.

[dipnots]

Mastering the Art of Learning: A Comprehensive Guide to Acquiring Any Skill or Knowledge

Learning is a lifelong process that can open up a world of new opportunities and experiences. Whether you’re looking to acquire a new skill, gain knowledge in a specific subject, or simply expand your horizons, the ability to learn quickly and effectively is an invaluable asset. This eBook will provide you with the tools and strategies you need to master the art of learning and achieve your…

[rosesareredrosa]

So Obvious part 2

Theo x fem reader

Summary: Y/n realizes her feelings and mistakes and now comes to Theo to apologize and slowly restart their friendship and maybe become something more.

w/c: 920

The days following Theodore's confrontation with Y/N were agonizingly slow. The weight of his confession hung over him, and the uncertainty of Y/N's response gnawed at his thoughts. He replayed their conversation over and over, wondering if he had been too harsh, too impulsive. His friends noticed the change in him, but they respected his need for space.

In the Ravenclaw common room, Y/N was equally tormented. Theodore’s words echoed in her mind, the raw pain and frustration in his voice a stark contrast to the calm demeanor she had always associated with him. She had always admired Theo’s quiet strength, his unwavering loyalty, and his subtle kindness. She had been so focused on her studies and her own world that she hadn’t seen what was right in front of her.

Determined to make things right, Y/N decided to find Theodore and talk to him again. She needed to understand his feelings better and share her own. She found him in the Slytherin common room, sitting by the fireplace, staring into the flames. Gathering her courage, she approached him.

"Theo, can we talk?" she asked softly, her voice tentative.

Theodore looked up, surprise and a flicker of hope crossing his features. He nodded, gesturing for her to sit down.

Y/N took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about what you said. About how you've been trying to show me how you feel. I’m sorry I didn’t see it. I was so caught up in my own world that I missed the signs."

Theodore's gaze softened slightly, but his expression remained guarded. "I didn't mean to be so harsh, Y/N. I just... I needed you to understand how much this has been affecting me."

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know, and I appreciate your honesty. I’ve been blind to what was right in front of me. But now that I know, I want you to know that I care about you too. More than I realized."

Theodore's heart ached at her words, a mix of relief and lingering pain. "You do?"

"Yes, Theo. I do," Y/N said, reaching out to take his hand. "I just didn't think you'd ever feel the same way about me. I thought you were just being a good friend."

Theodore squeezed her hand gently, a sad smile playing on his lips. "I’ve always felt more than that, Y/N. I’ve just been too scared to say it outright."

Y/N's eyes filled with regret. "I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to hide your feelings. I want to make it right, Theo. I want to try, if you're willing to give me a chance."

Theodore studied her for a moment, his emotions a turbulent mix of hope and hesitation. "It’s going to take time, Y/N. I’ve been hurt, and I need to trust that things will be different."

"I understand," Y/N said softly. "I’m willing to wait, and to show you that I care. You deserve that."

Theodore nodded, his heart swelling with a cautious optimism. "Alright. Let’s take it slow. We can figure this out together."

Over the next few weeks, Theodore and Y/N began to rebuild their relationship, taking tentative steps toward something more. They spent more time together, sharing their thoughts and feelings openly. It was a process of healing and rediscovery, and while it wasn’t always easy, it was worth it.

One evening, as they walked along the edge of the Black Lake, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the water, Y/N looked up at Theodore. "Thank you for giving us a chance, Theo."

Theodore smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "I’m glad we’re trying. I’ve always been a fool for you, Y/N. And I think I’m okay with that."

Y/N laughed softly, leaning into him. "I think I am too."

As they stood there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, they both felt a sense of peace. It wasn’t the end of their journey, but a new beginning. For the first time in a long while, Theodore felt hopeful about the future, knowing that they were facing it together.

Days turned into weeks, and their bond grew stronger. Theodore found himself opening up in ways he had never imagined. The quiet moments they shared in the library, the walks by the Black Lake, and the late-night conversations in the common rooms all became precious memories.

One afternoon, while they were studying in the library, Y/N glanced up at Theo. “You know, Theo, I’ve been thinking about us.”

Theo looked up from his book, curiosity in his eyes. “What about us?”

Y/N smiled softly. “About how we started, how oblivious I was. I’ve come to realize how much you mean to me. How much you’ve always meant to me.”

Theo reached out, taking her hand in his. “I’m glad you see it now. It’s been a long road, but I wouldn’t change a thing if it brought us here.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with emotion. “Me neither. I’m grateful for your patience, Theo. For everything.”

Theo leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re worth it, Y/N. Every moment of doubt, every second of frustration. You’re worth it all.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection, and she leaned in closer, resting her head against his shoulder. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s presence, finding solace in the unspoken words between them.

In that moment, Theodore knew he was no longer a fool. He was simply a man in love, and that was more than enough.

[poemsfor-her]

STUDY TECHNIQUES FOR YOU ✧ ⋆ . ˚

I. PARKINSON'S LAW

— Parkinson's Law states that work expands to fill the time available for it's completion. In a study context, this principle suggests that setting deadlines and time constraints can help you stay focused and complete tasks efficiently.

II. FEYNMAN TECHNIQUE

— Named after physicist Richard Feyman, this technique involves simplyfying and explaining complex topics as if you were teaching them to someone else. This process helps you identify gaps in your understanding and reinforces your knowledge.

III. BLURTING

— Blurting, or active recall, is a studying techinque where you try to remember key concepts or facts without looking at your notes or textbooks. This helps strengthen your memory and retrieval skills.

IV. ENERGY CYCLES

— Energy cycles refer to understanding your own energy levels and working in alignment with your natural rhytms. Some people are more productive in the morning, while others excel in the evening. By scheduling tasks accordingly, you can optimize your productivity and focus.

V. SECOND BRAIN

— The concept of a "second brain" often refers to using external tools like note-taking apps or digital resources to store and organize information. This frees up your mental capacity and enhaces your ability recall and apply knowledge.

VI. SPACED REPETITION

— Spaced repatition is a learning method that involves reviewing information at increasing intervals over time. It's designed to help you remember and retain information more effectively by revising it just before you're likely to forget it.

i looooove the feynman technique soo much! it makes learning fun :)

with love, t

[guxciestone]

🔮 ❛ SR JUPITER THROUGH THE HOUSES ༉‧₊˚ ˚୨୧

(solar return chart)

💜✧

‎ ‎

‎ ‎

❝ what is your abundance for the year? ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

‎i hope you’re having an amazing day. if you have an post suggestions i’m glad to consider them. enjoy <3

‎

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jupiter in the 1st house

This is an indication that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your outlook, appearance, personality, and how others and life treat you this year. You might notice that your mindset is leaning towards positivity, faith, and optimism this year. It may be easier for you to look on the bright side and for things to go your way. More luck than usual is usually what comes with this placement. This year you’ll feel like you can take on the world. You might want to expand your horizons and try new things, whether that be your social circle, career life, family life, spiritual life, or emotional life. During this time you’ll notice that you don't take things as seriously. It can be easier for you to recover from setbacks. On the other hand, be careful about overindulgence because this placement is notorious for allowing you to gain weight easily or become lazy and arrogant.

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jupiter in the 2nd house

This shows that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your finances, material possessions, and skills. It is possible that you might land a new job opportunity or discover an incredible source of income for yourself. Perhaps you experience some type of financial windfall. You might suddenly gain more physical items as well such as a new house, a new car, or or new clothes. This placement is useful for when you want to build on your skills or abilities to land your desired career because it is easier for you to do so. For example: If you want to get a job as a chef, this is the perfect year to enroll in culinary arts classes and practice. However, be careful with how you handle your possessions this year because it could easily fluctuate and you could become impulsive with your spending habits. Do not overspend or buy things that are unnecessary.

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jupiter in the 3rd house

This year is the year in which you find abundance and expansion in your mind, learning processes, communication, and peers. You’ll see that this year you’ll feel a strong need to expand your mind and learn things. Perhaps you’ll begin to read more books, study harder in school/college, enroll in a class, or watch more informational videos in your freetime. If you are in school, your grades may be significantly better than usual and there’s luck in your academic opportunities too. There is a possibility that you seem to be more extroverted and desire to be more social this year. You are charming and more witty, perhaps making friends through your peers. You could expect yourself to want more reflective and thoughtful talks with people this year. You might also be capable of handling more tasks than usual. You are able to be busier in your daily life because you mostly have a lot to do. However, it is almost impossible to get to know everything at once. It is important to slow down this year, and don’t overwhelm yourself with tasks.

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jupiter in the 4th house

This is an indication that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your family, home life, and sense of security. It is possible that your family life is relatively happier, brighter, and more stable. There could be increased peace in the home as well. It could be that most family troubles are going away significantly. There could be something expanding your family life as well–perhaps a new baby, new money, or even a new home or home renovation. There could even be small changes in the home such as making a new flower garden, painting the walls of your room, and much more. For the older individuals, perhaps you are considering retirement to where you can finally enjoy the fruits of your labor.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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jupiter in the 5th house

This shows that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your joys, self-expression, and casual relationships. It is possible that you could be trying new hobbies and aspirations, expanding your personal interests to learn more about things. This placement also calls for you to enjoy yourself more often. Perhaps you are going out to parties more, spending time with friends, having more crushes, or engaging in casual relationships. You could also notice that you are yearning to show yourself more, taking yourself out of your comfort zone and trying new versions of expression. It could be that you might get a new tattoo, a new style, or try different people than what you are used to. This placement is useful for you if you want to win the lottery within the year. This placement is also great for when you want to win the lottery.

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jupiter in the 6th house

This year is the year you’ll find abundance and expansion in your daily life, health, work, and routine. This is a time where you probably want something more out of your day-to-day habits, perhaps you strive to become more busy and fill up your to-go list during this time. You could be busier this year, especially at your work. Perhaps you are working more often and get recognized at your job for your hard work. It is also the case that you could even start an exercising regime, schedule more meetups with peers, or eat more exciting foods. On the other hand, it is important to be careful about overindulgence and laziness in your routine. There could be overeating involved and weight gain is more possible.

‎ ‎

jupiter in the 7th house

This is an indication that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your interpersonal relationships, your environment, and others. This placement is victorious for bringing in a new relationship or even a proposal if you are in a long-term relationship. If you are already married, the benefits of being with your spouse will show this year. You’ll notice that in general all of your relationships with others will improve. You are getting along with others and others are getting along with you. You may even meet significantly more new people this year. There is a possibility that you are more social, charming, talkative, and extroverted too. If there are any business partnerships or alliances, you’ll see that you’ll reap the success of it when you cooperate with them.

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jupiter in the 8th house

This shows that you’ll find abundance and expansion in other people’s possessions. During this year, it is possible that you’ll receive a gift from someone at some point. This could be an inheritance, monetary settlement, or even something you begin to own after a divorce–such as a house, car, kids, or even huge sums of money. If you receive huge amounts of cash this year, make sure to manage it successfully by hiring a financial manager or putting all of the money into an account. This placement is also known for when you are making huge purchases such as buying an estate. Your intimate relationships are also more apparent this year, especially towards your spouse or loved ones.

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jupiter in the 9th house

There is a strong need to search and expand on a higher understanding of the divine this year. Perhaps you are stepping into a new religion, learning about new religions, becoming a meditator, or getting more in touch with your higher self or spirit guides this year. You’ll find that you also desire peace and sanctuary more too. This is one of the perfect placements for when you need guidance and messages from your guides because you are more than willing to connect with them. There is also the possibility that you are willing to learn much more in general. You might engage in learning new things on your own. Perhaps you found new academic opportunities such as joining a college or enrolling in a new class. You could feel the urge to travel as well.

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jupiter in the 10th house

This year is the year you’ll find abundance and expansion in your reputation, image, and career life. It is notable that you’ll more likely find better career opportunities within the year. Perhaps you get a job promotion and land a new job with better payments. You could have a chance to expand your career as well. If you own a business, you are more than able to expand your business success and popularity. In regards to your reputation, your image is in luck because you’ll notice that you are more popular and this could help with any venture you are pursuing. This placement is great for fame in extreme cases.

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Jupiter in the 11th house

This is an indication that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your goals, friendships, and dreams. It is possible that you have more prominent goals than usual and you will benefit from these goals directly. There’s an opportunity to go after this goal only after a significant sacrifice in an area of the individual’s life. There is a possibility you will have to fight for what you want, but since luck is on your side in this area, it’ll be much easier and worth it. You’ll also find that your social life is more apparent. You might gain new friends or your friend group is more stable and tranquil right now.

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Jupiter in the 12th house

This shows that you’ll find abundance and expansion in your spiritual self, unconscious, and hidden parts of yourself. This placement indicates that the universe will most likely have your back entirely this year. You’ll feel more connected with your higher self and your spirit guides. Your shadow work journey, discovering ignored parts of yourself, self-discovery journey could be significantly easier to go through and deal with since the universe can give you more apparent messages during this year. At the same time, you are more willing to dive into those parts of yourself even without the help. Self-isolation for concentration for oneself is common.

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[smartgirrl]

the science of learning

understanding how your brain learns can help you optimize your study habits and make learning more efficient and enjoyable

how the brain learns

your brain is a network of neurons that form new pathways or strengthen existing ones when you learn.

neuroplasticity -> allows your brain to adapt and learn throughout life.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · .༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙

spaced repetition

...is reviewing information over increasing intervals of time.

this technique helps move information from short-term memory to long-term memory, making it stick better.

Anki or Quizlet use this technique for efficient studying

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · .༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

active learning

passive studying (re-reading) is less effective. use active learning methods:

testing yourself - with flashcards or quizzes

teaching others - explaining concepts out loud

turning notes into visual aids - like mind maps or concept diagrams

the more actively you engage, the better you retain information!

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · .༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

chunking

the brain can only hold a limited amount of information in working memory at once

break large information into smaller, manageable "chunks."

ex: group numbers into sets (like phone numbers).

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · .༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

the importance of sleep

sleep consolidates memories and strengthens neural connections + filters out irrelevant info, helping key details stick

studying before bed - improves retention after a good night's rest.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · .༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

multisensory learning

the more senses you use when learning, the better you’ll remember.

using visual aids, audio, and even physical movement can help reinforce what you’re trying to learn.

creating colorful notes, speaking aloud, or even walking while reviewing flashcards can make a big difference in memory retention.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · .༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

growth mindset

... believing you can improve is crucial to learning effectively.

embrace mistakes as part of the learning process – they’re essential for growth!

focus on effort and progress, not perfection

[alltoomaples]

Speed of Science🧬💻💌

I'm dating a STEM girlie and you're not (F1 Edition)

a/n: and im baaaaaacccckkkkk (like anyone even missed me lmao) with the long overdue request! life of a postgrad StEm girlie here and the struggle is really realll af. but besides that, I'm writing this down as a headcanon for the drivers requested on this poll i had posted long back here. I've always wondered how there's soo minimal povs/ocs where they are a scientific researcher, analyst, etc. sooo i dedicate this one to all the STEM F1 girlies out theree <33

alsoo quick shoutout to my girlieee @smoooothoperator for inspiring and motivating me to get back at writing!🥹🫶🏼 check out her lastest ongoing work 'What Was I Made For? ' its amazing and thats a FACT!! do check her works! its absolutely amazing❤️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

Scientific Art Illustrator - Charles Leclerc

As a Scientific Art Illustrator, you specialize in creating visually captivating and scientifically accurate illustrations that depict complex biological, astronomical, or technological subjects.

Charles first discovered you through your works at an exhibition where their stunning illustrations of Formula 1 cars caught his eye. Impressed by their attention to detail and artistic talent, they struck up a conversation about their mutual love for precision and creativity.

During a peaceful weekend afternoon, Charles suggests a spontaneous visit to a local art supply store. Excitedly exploring aisles stocked with vibrant paints, fine brushes, and specialized papers, the two of you engage in discussions about artistic techniques and innovative tools. Amidst laughter and shared enthusiasm for creativity, you bond over your mutual appreciation for the intricacies of art and science, making the afternoon a cherished memory of their shared passions.

After being away from home during race season, Charles always finds a framed series of sketches by you for the races you couldn't make it, capturing his most memorable racing moments. Each sketch is intricately detailed, depicting not only the speed and intensity of the races but also the emotions and determination etched on Charles' face. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Charles hangs the sketches in his study, a constant reminder of your support and admiration for his passion.

...

Data Scientist - Lando Norris

A Data Scientist specializes in analyzing large volumes of data using statistical methods and machine learning techniques to extract insights and make data-driven decisions.

You and Lando first connected through a mutual fascination with racing data at a technology symposium focused on sports analytics. Your presentation on advanced predictive modelling in motorsports caught Lando's attention for its innovative approach to enhancing race strategies.

During a cosy evening at home, Lando playfully challenges you to a friendly data analysis competition using real-time telemetry from previous races. Their banter and shared excitement over dissecting racing data create a lighthearted and memorable bonding experience.

You two would watch old races and analyze historical racing data together, playfully debating optimal pit stop strategies and analyzing driver performance trends, their shared passion for racing and data fostering a deep connection and mutual admiration.

...

Oceanographer/Marine Biologist - Oscar Piastri

An Oceanographer or Marine Biologist studies marine life, ecosystems, and ocean processes to understand and protect marine environments and resources.

You and Oscar crossed paths during a research expedition to study coral reefs in a remote location. Your expertise in marine biology and passion for conservation impressed Oscar, sparking their connection.

Amidst the hectic F1 season, Oscar surprises you with a weekend getaway to a coastal retreat, where they explore tide pools and participate in a beach cleanup together, reaffirming their commitment to environmental stewardship.

You gave Oscar a custom-made charm bracelet featuring miniature charms of marine animals they've discussed during their beach walks and conservation talks. Each charm represents a meaningful moment in their relationship, from their first discussion about oceanography to their shared admiration for marine life. Oscar wears the bracelet during race weekends as a reminder of you and all the love and support you give, both on and off the track.

...

Mechanical Engineer - Daniel Riccardo

You are a passionate Mechanical Engineer, specializing in advanced automotive design and performance optimization.

Daniel first encountered you at a technical conference organized by one of the team sponsors where you presented groundbreaking research on aerodynamic innovations that caught his attention.

Often, while you meticulously draft engineering schematics at their home office, he makes sure that you have your "engineering emergency kit" beside your workstation, which is a tray of snacks and their favourite coffee – ensuring they're fueled for their late-night brainstorming sessions. For when he's away for races, he stacks them up with small cute notes.

Before Daniel heads to a crucial race, you surprise him with a meticulously crafted miniature replica of his race car, complete with detailed decals and a personalized message of encouragement engraved on the base. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Daniel proudly displays it in his motorhome, a reminder of the reader's unwavering support both on and off the track.

...

Statistician - George Russell

A Statistician specializes in collecting, analyzing, and interpreting numerical data to help organizations and individuals make informed decisions.

You and Russell first crossed paths during a university seminar on advanced statistical modeling in sports. Your insightful analysis of Formula 1 race data caught George's attention, sparking a lively discussion that led to mutual admiration for each other's analytical skills and shared passion for racing statistics.

During a particularly demanding race weekend, the reader surprises George with a meticulously prepared statistical analysis report highlighting his strengths and areas for improvement based on recent race data. This thoughtful gesture boosts George's confidence and motivation, showing the reader's support in his pursuit of excellence.

During a weekend getaway, you guys stumble upon a local go-kart track. George, always up for a challenge, suggests they have a friendly race. Knowing George's competitive spirit, you secretly calculate his optimal strategy and surprise him by winning with a perfectly executed last-minute overtaking maneuver. George is impressed by the your strategic thinking and playfulness, and they share a lighthearted and joyous moment celebrating their shared love for racing and friendly competition.

...

Astrophysicist - Logan Sargeant

An Astrophysicist studies the physical properties, behavior, and evolution of celestial objects such as stars, planets, galaxies, and the universe as a whole, using principles of physics and astronomy.

Logan and you first crossed paths during an expedition to study a rare astronomical event—a comet passing close to Earth. Both passionate about astrophysics, you found yourselves sharing a telescope at a remote observatory, marveling at the comet's beauty and discussing its celestial significance late into the night. Their shared awe and intellectual connection sparked a mutual admiration that grew into a deep bond over their shared passion for exploring the wonders of the cosmos.

During a quiet evening at home, Logan excitedly shows you a new telescope he acquired for stargazing during race weekends, expressing his eagerness to learn more about the cosmos together and sharing their enthusiasm for both racing and astrophysics in equal measure.

Before a critical race weekend, the reader surprises Logan with a personalized star chart that maps out the night sky above the upcoming race venue during the race weekend. Each star on the chart is marked with a heartfelt message of encouragement, reminding Logan of their unwavering support and belief in his abilities on and off the track. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Logan treasures the star chart as a symbol of the reader's love and encouragement throughout his racing career.

...

Climate Scientist - Lance Stroll

A Climate Scientist studies climate patterns, environmental changes, and their impacts on Earth's ecosystems, using data analysis and modeling to understand and address global climate challenges.

Lance crossed paths with you at an eco-friendly racing event where Lance was advocating for sustainable practices in motorsport. Being a respected climate scientist, you caught Lance's attention with your insightful presentation on the environmental impact of racing and innovative solutions for reducing carbon footprints in the sport. Their shared passion for sustainability sparked an immediate connection and admiration for each other's dedication to making a positive impact on the environment.

One weekend, Lance surprises you with a homemade dinner featuring sustainably sourced ingredients, proudly showcasing his culinary skills while discussing ways to reduce your carbon footprint. His earnest commitment to sustainability and your shared vision for a healthier planet melts your heart, making this a cherished moment you both treasure.

You, being deeply involved in climate science, often spends late nights analyzing data or writing research papers. One evening, Lance bring him a cozy blanket and a mug of your favorite hot beverage, quietly sitting beside him as he works. You look up from your laptop, touched by his thoughtfulness, and pulls him into a warm embrace, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding of your demanding but vital work.

...

taglist: @lndonrris @thatgirlmj @lwstuff @dannyramirezwife-f1dump @moonypixel tysm for your suggestions! apologies on taking this long to write😅🫶🏼

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed reading this! this was my first time writing a headcanon and for f1 drivers beside charles and lando so hope i did justice to all.

i'm being wanting to read some good domestic bliss, sweet, adorable and lovey dovey blurbs, fics of lando (i talked abt it here) soo maybe i'll work on some drafts at some point cause i'm currently in the middle of project work of my masters degree soo don't know when i'll be posting soo until next time, see yaaa and going back to read mode 👋💓✨️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

[hbmmaster]

how many games are there?

"how many normal play partizan games are born on or before Day 4" is an unanswered question that, depending on how much you know about game theory (the mathematical field of study, not the youtube series) either doesn't mean anything, sounds like something we really should have an answer to, or sounds like something that probably cannot be answered with existing technology.

normal play partizan games

I recommend this video (RIP Owen) as an introduction to the concept, but this is a very specific type of "game". these are turn-based perfect-information games for two players, conventionally named Left and Right.

every game (or game position, or game state) is defined in terms of what options the two players have from that game state, if it is their turn while the game is in that state. these options are themselves defined by what state the game enters when that option is chosen.

the "normal play convention" part means that if it is your turn and you have no options, you lose and the other player wins. ties are not possible.

the standard notation for games used in combinatorial game theory is the form {L|R}, where L is Left's set of options and R is Right's set of options.

equivalence

one important concept to understand for this problem is the comparison of games, and in particular when two games are equal to each other. I again recommend watching the video I linked, but here's the short version.

two games G and H can be "added together" to form a new game, G+H. the way the game G+H is played is that on your turn you can either make a move in the G part and do nothing in the H part, or make a move in the H part and do nothing in the G part. the normal play convention still applies: you lose and the other player wins once you don't have any options in either part of the combined game.

it's also possible to subtract one game from another game by adding its "negative". the negative of a game is simply the game where Left's options are all the negatives of Right's options from the original game, and Right's options are all the negatives of Left's options from the original game. in essence, the two players are swapped.

so then, for reasons that make sense but I am not going to get into, two games G and H are said to be equivalent to each other if G-H, the sum of G and the negative of H, equals some game where if both players are playing optimally, the second player wins.

the birthday property

since these games are defined recursively in terms of what other games can be reached from them, all "finite games" can be generated in an iterative process, building a new batch of games out of the games you got from the previous iteration ("day"). this is called the "birth" of a game, and the "day" a game is "born" on is, naturally, its "birthday".

on Day 0, no games exist, so the only possible set of games that can be used to make more games is the empty set. the only game born on Day 0 is {|}, conventionally called "0".

on Day 1, two possible sets exist: the empty set, and the set containing 0. so, there are four games born on or before Day 1 and their conventional symbols:

{|} = 0

{|0} = -1

{0|} = 1

{0|0} = *

Day 2 is somewhat more complicated but not by much. now that more than one game exists, sets with more than one game can be used as options. but for advanced game theory reasons, only some of these sets actually work for generating unique games. a total of twenty-two games are born on or before Day 2:

{|} = 0

{|0} = -1

{0|} = 1

{0|0} = *

{|-1} = -2

{-1|-1} = -1*

{-1|0} = -½

{*|0} = ↓

{0|0,*} = ↓*

{0,*|0,*} = *2

{0,*|0} = ↑*

{0|*} = ↑

{0|1} = ½

{1|1} = 1*

{1|} = 2

{0|-1} = -½±½

{1|-1} = ±1

{1|0} = ½±½

{*|-1}

{0,*|-1}

{1|0,*}

{1|*}

I don't think those last four have established symbols besides their {L|R} definitions, but this stuff is not that easy to look up.

anyway, once you get to Day 3 things explode, and now there's 1474 games! and beyond that it's an open question.

on Day 4 we know that there are at least three trillion of them, but there could be anywhere as high as 5.2x10^443, a number on a googological scale.

if it turns out the final answer is somewhere in the trillions then it might be possible to brute force the full list with enough computing power and time, but the space of possible games that need to be checked is simply too vast.

anyway that's neat isn't it

[tswwwit]

Cult Reincarnation part Three! Here's parts One and Two if you missed 'em.

The followers of Bill Cipher are the most blessed of believers. Strong and devoted, they are empowered to overcome all things, through service to their god.

And in times of trouble, the devout always have something to turn to. 

Dipper bows his head before the golden image, and tries to force his muscles into a semblance of relaxation. 

Worship.

He hopes hating every second of it doesn’t matter. If it works at all. 

Praying to a god, in the domain of said god, should technically speaking be overkill. This kind of thing is supposed to reach through the veil between planes, not just partway across a building. The process has a lot of kick to it. 

That’s the theory, anyway. Dipper’s working with what he’s got - 

But he’s not sure Bill’s all that easy to reach. 

No worshiper has ever called for help and received it. There were excuses, of course. Dozens of them. But brushing them off with a ‘not worthy’ doesn’t work when it’s literally everyone.

Either nobody’s worthy, or no help is provided. From what Dipper’s learned about the god himself, it’s the latter. 

Probably because Bill doesn’t care about most of them. Maybe because he thinks it’s funny. The third guess -  that he thinks helping is boring - is currently leading the pack.

There’s another reason, too. One that’s… technically possible, but Dipper’s trying not to think about it. 

No matter what the cause of it, none of those bode well for Dipper’s plan. That’s on top of the fact that summoning Bill is, by all metrics, an incredibly reckless idea. 

Still, desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Dipper needs a quick way out of an awful situation, and it’s one he got himself into this time.

Focusing on the shape of Bill in the window, Dipper concentrates. Breathing in, then out. 

He snaps his fingers, and the candles bloom with bright blue fire, before settling down to the standard red-yellow glow. Despite everything, he spends a brief second admiring the tiny flames.

The magic comes so easily to him now. Studying mysterious texts found in a hideous nightmare realm is another bad idea, but you can’t argue with results. Whoever gathered the books in the guest room must have -

Another wailing howl rings down the corridor. A distant scrabbling echo, the scrape of claws on stone.

Dipper drops to his knees and scrambles to finish his makeshift setup. Something ninety percent cribbed from the ritual he ‘volunteered’ for, minus all the blood.

Rushing through this isn’t optimal, but hell, none of this is. Dipper’s working on a hope and a literal prayer. Being in the guy’s home instead of a dimension away should amplify the effect. Bill might not be able to ignore him, if he’s loud enough.

When the alternative is being devoured by wandering demons, Dipper’s willing to have a bit of faith. 

Just a smidgen, though. Enough to make this work.

Another chattering sound, though more distant, gives him plenty more panic-induced belief to work with. 

With all the setup done, Dipper claps his hands together. He tries to steady his breathing. The words of the ritual resonate in his mind instead of out loud, which should be good enough considering the god in question.

And he knows Bill, too. Personally, not abstractly. Dipper can hold the image of him in his mind as clearly as if he was standing in the room. The fact that it’s a human shape shouldn’t matter. He’s… ninety five percent certain it won’t.

Now. If he focuses. If he reaches out with sincere effort and desire, pushing with the magic that bubbles inside him - this should work. 

He really, really hopes it works. 

“You rang?”

His heart nearly leaps into his throat. Jerking up right, Dipper whips around towards the voice. 

Where Bill Cipher stands. He’s right behind him and just to his left, as smug and dapper as always. Appearing out of freaking nowhere.

Dipper slumps back down to the floor as Bill wiggles his fingers in greeting.

That’s one hell of a response time. He’d barely gotten started before Bill popped into place.

“Looks like you had a fun little jaunt!” Bill claps his hands together, leaning - but not quite looming - over him. “I wondered where you’d run off to!”

The phrasing makes Dipper wince. That’s not - he hopes Bill didn't really mean that. It would mean he got the wrong idea. 

Dipper didn’t ‘run off’, because he’s not stupid. No matter what other people might have said. 

All he wanted was a cursory look around. Checking out if there were other ‘apartments’, see if there were any windows. Something brief enough to let him get an idea of what kind of place he was dealing with, then heading back to the relative safety of Bill’s place.

Which might be the weirdest part of all. 

That it is safe, for a limited version of the word.

Since being kidnapped, he’s had zero new injuries. Plenty of comfort, reasonable safety, and very little to hide from. Material comforts, not promises that never get realized. Even his room in Bill’s place is the nicest place he’s ever lived, cozy by any definition.

Casting everything aside for the chance at an ‘exit’ is a dumb choice. 

Dipper was doing just fine where he was. No running off anywhere. He’s been perfectly fine with his three little rooms, even if it’s a bit limiting. 

Technically he has access to four, if you include the living room. But that one usually has Bill in it.

Some worshippers would have bled far, far more than Dipper did, for even the briefest chance at access to their god. Getting their messages to him directly, basking in his radiant golden presence, accessing all his mysteries - a dream that they could hope to think about achieving, one day in the future.

And they’d all be disappointed.

Turns out Bill’s both weirder and more crazy than any scripture made it seem. It’s nothing like… anything, really.

Dozens of passionate sermons on Bill’s infinite wrath, crumbling in the face of him being totally, bizarrely chill with everything Dipper’s done so far. Hours of speeches about his unknowable motives, and infinite grandeur, shattered by watching him pontificate on whether he should wear the ‘cool’ socks today, or the ‘ones with little duckies on them’. 

Hell, Dipper watched his god blow up half of a wall by accident and shrug it the hell off - then later get so mad at something on interdimensional television he choked on the gummy bears he was eating.

Years of study has done nothing to prepare Dipper for this, and he was the one looking in forbidden texts. 

It’s. Informative. But also, like, a lot. 

So for the most part, Dipper decided to hole up in the guest room. It’s easier than parsing the god puzzle, and the alone time is nice. 

In the last… few days? More than a week, possibly, he’s had time to read, write notes, take uninterrupted naps, and nothing bad has happened to him. Peace and quiet came at a premium back in the compound. Here, all he has to do is shut a door. 

Still, books only last so long to keep someone occupied. Confinement has always made Dipper kinda stir-crazy. 

And on the one occasion when Bill wasn’t in the living room, well. Curiosity has always driven Dipper into absolutely dumb actions. Including going snooping again. Maybe a tiny bit of peeking into Bill’s bedroom, because the door was unlocked. 

And since that was unlocked, it only made sense to test the knob leading out of Bill’s quarters.

It’s not Dipper’s fault the damn door disappeared the moment he stepped outside.

So really, he didn’t ‘run off’. He wasn’t trying to escape, or even go too far from his room.

He just got bored.

And when that went south, he didn’t have many other options. Turns out the Fearamid is full of demons. He saw that on the way in, but he didn’t truly understand the extent. 

Without Bill escorting him, the concept got hammered in pretty much immediately.

The moment he stepped out, he must have caught the attention of damn near every demon in this godawful place. One young human, basically catnip for monsters. The first one showed up within a minute.

Time is strange here, though. It might have been longer. 

Dipper has been running for what feels like hours. 

“What’s the matter, kid? Trip not as fun as you expected?” Bill gives his shoulder a friendly shake. “Or didja just miss me?”

Dipper shrugs. 

Sure, it’s nice Bill showed up. It’s great that he’s not deadly. But he’s arguably a different kind of problem.

A few tugs on his shirt make him reluctantly stand, turning to face Bill. Despite being summoned in his own home, he’s surprisingly upbeat. 

“Now I’m guessing you called me - and this is just off the top of my head here - that once you got going, you couldn’t find your way back.” Bill sets fists on his hips, eminently amused. “A little lost lamb like you musta freaked out!”

Before Dipper can do more than shrug, something with way too many limbs scuttles around a corner, filling the hallway with a writhing mass. He surges closer to Bill, heart in his throat.

A moment later the creature spots Bill, and freezes in place. Then, lifting each of its limbs like it’s tiptoeing, it backs all the way up and around the corner. Like it opened a door, saw something twice as horrific as itself - and then carefully shut it again, trying to pretend that didn’t happen.

“Do me a favor, though, and put a little less ‘oomph’ into the magic next time.” Bill pushes a pinky into his ear and twists it around, then pulls it out and flicks it clean. “That crap was loud.”

Dipper nods rapidly. Yep, can do. At some point he started clutching Bill’s elbow, but he’s not about to stop. Not here.

With Bill guiding him, the mazelike corridors present no further problems. Even though they do turn around at least three times, and at one point walk on the actual ceiling, Bill keeps going with perfect confidence in his stride. 

There aren't’ any interruptions, either. Compared to mere minutes before, the halls are mysteriously quiet and empty, leaving him and Bill to stroll along, hand on elbow.

When they arrive back at the penthouse, Bill opens the door with a sweep of his arm, and a slight bow that might be mocking - but Dipper’s too tired to be bothered.

So much for the ‘escape’ idea. Running around the Fearamid was nothing but an exercise in terrified frustration.

It would be rational, Dipper knows, to be more upset. But the cult was also a confusing, stupid, terrifying place that held him captive, and back there he could never count on having a hot bath, or privacy, or sleep. 

A few weeks ago he would have said the threat of death back home was lower, but now? He knows which one he’d choose, any day. 

The one confounding factor is Bill himself. 

In the cult, you couldn’t avoid him at all. Always talking about him, if you still were able. Praying to his idols, going to the rituals, chanting and waving your hands like an idiot in the air. Making sure that your every action pleased him. Following all his orders. Every day, some part of your day was spent thinking or acting on his wishes.

Actually being around him every day requires… precisely none of that. He’s so -

‘Different’ would be the wrong word. A being who’s lived for literal eons doesn’t change things up on a dime. 

This is Bill Cipher without any convenient ‘reinterpretations’. 

The priest was wrong about Bill. Everything he said was at best incorrect, and more likely a bunch of self-serving bullshit. Everything they ever did was stupid and wrong. Bill never cared about what they did, or all the prayers they sent or literally any devotional action. And that’s a true, unshakable fact, because the opposite idea - that Dipper’s mere presence changes Bill’s behavior, even one iota - is laughably outrageous.

Another slight shake. Bill, trying to catch his attention again. He’s raised an eyebrow, examining Dipper’s face as he thinks.

Right, Dipper should - uh. Probably just get out of here. Before Bill does something like get annoyed at his ungrateful guest. Or worse, put on the expectant look again.

With a quick nod, and a ‘cute’ smile, he shuffles out from under his arm, and scuttles for the guest room. 

Everything’s just as he left it. The open book. The tidy sheets. The notes he was taking, before he noticed Bill was gone and thought he’d have a tiny look around -

“Haven’t done much redecorating, I see.”

Dipper nearly leaps out of his skin. Shit, what - 

Behind him, Bill hovers at a disrespectful distance. His eye is narrowed, and his expression suggests a man who’s not terribly impressed. 

“A full week shoulda had you settled in way more.” Bill says, shaking his head in… disappointment? He stalks around Dipper casually, glancing around the room. “Hey, you made the bed! That’s rare!”

Dipper’s mouth works, but that’s an old, dumb instinct. He shuts it, and glares. 

Bill wanders around, casually pacing around the small space. A quick check of the bed, yanking out the sheets until they’re messy again - then setting his fists on his hips, looking proud of himself.

Okay. This is new. 

Bill’s been around, but he’s never intruded before. Every time Dipper wasn’t sure how to deal with him, he could retreat back to the guest room and be sure that he’d have some space. Quiet, too, aside from the occasional piano playing, drifting through the door.

Now he’s thinking all of that was a courtesy. 

Obviously Bill can’t be kept out of what is, after all, his place. He’s simply chosen not to intrude until now. 

With supreme confidence, Bill drops onto the bed, tucking his arms behind his head and crossing one leg over the other - yeah. Still his place, and he knows it. He didn’t even take his shoes off. 

“Oh!” A bright grin crosses Bill’s face. He rummages under the pillow for a second. “I take it back - you did make one addition to the decor.” 

With a grin, he brandishes the stupid plush of himself like he was holding up his firstborn child. Because he is, as Dipper learned, a narcissist. 

Ugh, of course he’d find that. Dipper looks away, trying to keep his annoyance off his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, glare all you like, kid.” Bill says, wagging a chiding finger. “You’ve been making yourself scarce, but you can’t avoid me forever! At the very least ya need to get those stitches out in a few days.” A smirk. “Though I’d love to see you manage that yourself.”

Dipper can’t argue with that. He does try to stop glaring, but it’s surprisingly difficult. 

“What?” Bill sits up, setting mini-Bill in his lap. He raises an eyebrow. “Not got anything to say?”

Obviously not. Dipper folds his arms, and tries not to look at - not an interloper, this is Bill’s. He’s the guest. Getting bothered by it is rude at best.

“But no! Silent as the night is long, and orders of magnitude more boring. This whole time, I haven’t heard a peep from you, Pine Tree. And I've been very patient.” Bill sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What gives?”

Like that’s not obvious, either. Dipper pinches his lips together, tight. 

There was a sacrifice. Made in Bill’s name, and for his honor. A devotion bestowed unto him. He can ignore cries for help, but there’s no way Bill didn’t notice that. Just like when he showed at the ritual, or at Dipper’s impromptu summoning. The call would have been too strong. 

No, even stronger. With that much blood spilled, it must have been like a signal beacon.

Bill knows what went on. He just didn’t care. 

And now he’s being an asshole, just because he can.

“It’s especially irritating when you have plenty of avenues to make a statement.” Bill rises from the bed with a sigh, dropping mini-Bill back onto the pillows. “You just haven’t put in the effort!”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks straight past Dipper and over to the desk. He runs his fingers over the surface, caressing the edge of -

Oh, shit, no.

His journal. That he left out, like an idiot, assuming Bill would never, ever come in here to see it-

By now it’s far too late - he must have seen a bit already -  but Dipper hurries over towards him anyway. It’s not like he can shove Bill out of the way, or smack anything out of his hand. The repercussions would - he doesn’t want to think about those; they make him feel so sick.

Bill’s already picked it up, he even turned a page - 

“See? You’re literate, sapling! Reading and writing, both at your command.” He rests the journal against where his heart would theoretically be. “Why haven’t you shown any of it off?”

For a lot of very good reasons. For fuck’s sake. Bill’s already intimated that he knows Dipper doesn’t really believe. But he is arrogant, and powerful. A terrible, awful, confusing god.

He can’t be allowed to read that journal, because gods do not like being called ‘assholes’. Even if it’s true.

Though it’s a dumb move, Dipper makes a grab for the damning evidence. Bill’s too quick though; he misses by a mile.

“Oop!” Bill raises his arm high, looking at Dipper with amusement. “Aww, nice try! So close.” With a wink, he dangles Dipper's own personal, very private notebook over his head. Why does this bastard have to be tall, damn it. “What, you want this?” 

Dipper grits his teeth. No, he was never going to get it back by force, or speed, or even a quick wit. One young human doesn’t stand a chance. 

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

It worked before. It might work now, 

Dipper takes a slow breath, and lets it out. Then he shuts his eyes, and kneels. 

Above him, he hears Bill’s laugh fall silent. Slightly placated, then. A little more should do the trick. 

With a great effort of will, Dipper bows his head, hands pressed together. He can get through this. He can kneel and - kind of sit awkwardly on his foot, he shifts his weight and braces his palm on Bill’s thigh for balance. 

He’s about to start praying when something hits him in the head with a thump. 

Dipper jerks back, hissing through his teeth. He starts rubbing at the spot, head lowered - 

And when he blinks at the floor, a book flops unceremoniously open on the carpet. 

Before Bill can move, Dipper snags the journal that was just dropped on him. Tucking it under his arm for safekeeping, and scooting back on the carpet. 

“Eh, whatever. Go ahead and keep it.” Bill folds his arms, turning away to sit back down on the bed. Weirdly huffy for a guy who was getting worshiped. Maybe Dipper did it wrong. “Besides! I don’t need to skim through some book to know you.”

Welp, that’s ominous. 

Dipper shuffles back over to the desk. He glances over at Bill - looking away, still in his odd sulk - then opens a drawer, drops his journal in, and shuts it with his hip.

Another huff from Bill. By his face he’s not in a great mood, but it doesn’t seem to be actively dangerous.

And he doesn’t make another move for the journal. Even though it’s full of secrets.

That’s one relief. Maybe he considers Dipper’s secrets too boring. Maybe Bill’s not interested in them, beyond using them to antagonize him. 

He’s a god, anyway. A demon slash god slash infinite being of pure energy. All human thought should be totally beneath his notice, just like the fleeting human lives that make up his cult -

But that doesn’t make sense, either. 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. Silently willing any part of this, at any time, to finally come together. 

Because if humans were totally beneath Bill’s notice, why is one of them here? Living in his home, taking up his space, eating his food and breathing his air and getting weird expectant looks. Even for a supernatural being, that’s no small effort.

If it were just about his blood, Dipper could understand that. It wouldn’t be very fun, but he’d get it. 

But it’s not. Because none of it has been spilled since the ritual. Because nothing’s been painful or threatening or - okay, a lot of it’s been weird, but nothing like the scriptures said it would be. All the rules Dipper’s learned simply don’t seem to apply. 

Bill’s supposed to be - 

He’s supposed to be different, is all. 

But hee can hardly blame Bill for that. It’s not his fault people got him wrong, or idealized him, or if he’s super weird - that last part was advertised, extensively. 

There’s a lot of things that a lot of people are ‘supposed’ to be, Dipper guesses. It never really fits them, in the end.

He just doesn’t understand why Bill’s doing this. 

“Don’t think we’re not gonna go over the main pain of the day, either.” Bill gives Dipper a long, annoyed look. “What kinda guy stays at another guy’s place and doesn’t give him so much as a ‘hello’?”

Dipper shrugs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He can’t quite meet Bill’s eye. 

Okay, technically Bill’s right. That would be rude, if it weren’t for certain circumstances. 

“And I don’t mean chanting a prayer, either! You got fully functional hands and a brain.” With a frown, Bill stands and approaches. Dipper backs up against the desk, but Bill stops a couple feet away, hands on his hips. “Why not write a thank-you note or something?”

Oh. Well. 

That was always an option. Dipper just didn’t know Bill wanted it. 

And why would he? Bill’s a mental god, a mind reader. Always keeping an eye on him. The idea that he just wants to be ‘talked’ to is…. 

Yeah, another weird thing. Hell, at least Dipper can do that. It might not even be too embarrassing.

Before he can grab a pen and paper off the desk, Bill shoves a whiteboard and marker in his hands. He nearly jumps back, before accepting it with reasonable dignity. Despite having seen it before, Bill manifesting things out of nowhere is remarkably startling.

Now he’s left staring at it. Wondering what he should do.

“Ahem,” Bill clears his throat. “You could start with a, ‘Hi Bill!’ or, ‘You’re amazing, Bill’. Y’know, any kinda standard greeting.” He claps his hands together, grinning wide. “But I’ll give you more points for creativity.”

Dipper glances down at the blank white board, then back up at Bill. He clamps his mouth shut, trying to focus.

That was a joke. Right? He’s, like, 90% the ‘points’ are rhetorical, not literal. How do you get a bad grade in talking to a god? What metric would Bill use to - damn it, he’s overthinking this already. 

What would be a good answer. What would be bad? And what’s the horribly wrong one that ends in disaster? 

Dipper hesitates, biting his lip. He hears Bill make a soft groan, either impatient or already disappointed.

Great. Yet another chance to fail his god. Just like all the other times Bill waited for something, and didn’t get it. Now he’s going to read something Dipper wrote, words made just for him, and those will be the first words Dipper’s ever said directly to him. They have to be - 

Shit. Right. 

Another glance up - Bill has his expectant look on again, and somehow it’s even brighter this time. Watching tantalizing treat, held just out of reach - but maybe arriving, in a moment.

Of course. That’s what Bill’s been waiting for.

The only truly wrong answer is not giving one.

Dipper gives a quick smile, and starts scribbling on the whiteboard. He can do this. It may not be great, but he can hardly do worse than nothing. 

The instant he puts marker to surface, Bill’s grin somehow widens to an impossible degree, even though it’s the single most boring thing that could be going on in the nightmare realm. He even claps a few times, like a particularly annoying, demonic seal.

His enthusiasm takes some of the pressure off. Even if Dipper can’t bring himself to use the most worshipful greetings, Bill should be pleased nonetheless.

“Lemme see, lemme see!” Bill beckons him closer, eye bright and lit from within. 

For a second, Dipper’s tempted to hold the board to his chest, feeling warm in the face. It’s really not a big deal. Bill doesn’t need to make one out of it.

After a second, he turns his head away and the board around, where he’s written a fairly neutral - but still devoted! - greeting.

‘I am at your service, my lord.’

Bill looks down at the board.

Then he looks up at Dipper’s face, searching it for something. Then down again. 

The smile has slid away, leaving a mix of alarm and disgust behind. Like Bill bit into a donut he’d been saving for a special occasion, and got a mouthful of frog spawn. 

The reaction is so unexpected that Dipper’s more baffled than nervous. What, is it his handwriting? A quick check proves it’s perfectly legible. 

“Cute, I guess! Give it another shot.” Bill says, and wipes the board clean with two fingers. He laughs, in the tone of someone who’s seen a terrible social gaffe and is glossing over it. “Try ‘Bill’, instead. ‘Handsome’, if you’re daring. A pet name, even!” His smile inches briefly downward. “But ‘bout skip the ‘lord’ or ‘master’ for the next few years. Minimum.”

Dipper slowly turns the board back around, though he does side-eye Bill for a moment. He gets a grip on the marker again, pausing for thought. 

What the hell, that was a classic. Every supernatural being likes deference. Especially the powerful ones. Except now the rules have changed up, again, without any rhyme or reason, because Bill just has to be super weird, all the goddamn time. 

Not that he’s going to comment on it. If Bill overthinks this ‘no groveling’ decision, he might change his mind. 

After a few seconds of deliberation - Bill staring the whole time - he goes with, ‘Hi Bill’

“Much better,” Bill says with satisfaction. He rubs his hands together, smiling wide. “Man, we have a lot of catching up to do!”

He leans in, very, very close, making Dipper lean back against the desk. He clutches the board tight, smiles awkwardly - and hopes this won’t be too bad. 

One of Bill Cipher’s domains of power is knowledge. Another is secrets. 

With the way Bill asks questions, it’s like Dipper has a bunch that he doesn’t already know about. 

Bill wants to know his favorite color - blue - tells him it should be yellow, with a haughty sniff, then erases Dipper’s apology and insists he tell him about his brief trip outside. And about how he likes the penthouse. How he’s found the accommodations - comfy, thank you - and a thousand other minor, dull details. Keeping up with the sheer barrage makes Dipper’s hand cramp, even when he skips out on full sentences. 

It’s one of the longest conversations - insofar as it is one - that Dipper’s ever had with someone outside his old cult. Bill, meanwhile, is the god of that cult, and he still doesn’t seem to know anything about it. Or at least he’s asking a hell of a lot of questions about really, objectively, boring crap. At some point, Dipper realizes that eternal smile isn’t there anymore, so it’s probably boring him, too.

“All of that aside - I think we oughta get to the heart of the matter, as it were.” Bill snaps his fingers, and the grin resurges. 

Dipper nods. He swallows, throat bobbing, and ducks his head. 

Okay. Everything else has been kind of surface level. Now he must be moving on to deeper secrets. Things in Dipper’s head that have never seen the light of day. Or the ones that have, and Bill’s going to dig into them, deeply. Possibly painfully so -

“Why won't you talk to me?” Bill whines. 

What?

Dipper runs that sentence back through his head, but there’s no other word for it. The high, nasal tone, the slump of Bill’s shoulders. A look that might be a pout - he’s sulking again, but way harder this time. 

But that - Dipper double-checks his board, recalling all his responses. It can’t be something he wrote, that was all pretty bland. So either Bill’s just being weird again, or - something. Another thing.

Damn it. He wishes he had more space to pick this apart, but Bill’s been so close and talking too fast. He didn’t have time to analyze while bracing against the flood.

“Seriously, what are we looking at here?” Bill says, straightening up. He paces around Dipper in a circle, arms tucked behind his back. “Vow of silence? Cause if so, I’m your god, and I say screw that! Pipe up anytime!”

Dipper shakes his head. No. If it was, he would have violated it a long time ago. It’s a weird guess.

It’s weird that Bill is guessing.

“Ethereal binding? A curse, maybe?” The idea must strike him as a fun one, because Bill perks up again. “Now if we’re talking curses, oh man! I’ve got a whole collection! There’s dozens of ways to break those, kid. Hell, depending on type, we could get you patched up this evening!”

Again, Dipper shakes his head. He huffs out a sigh, about to correct Bill’s incredibly wrong assumption - 

Then pauses with the marker above the board. Because - well - Bill wouldn’t want to be told the obvious. He should know this already. 

Dipper bites his lower lip again, frowning at the blank white space. 

Shouldn’t he?

Meanwhile, Bill rattles off more speculations, each one more bizarre than the last. No, he didn’t make a deal with a sea witch, or a harpy. He didn’t wander into the bog of silence, or sell his voice for some magic beans. 

By this point he’s not bothering to hold up the board and marker anymore, just so he can shrug better. Without writing down his responses, he has more space to think.

He already knew the ‘didn’t care’ part. An ambivalent, cruel god would hardly have reason to help any easily replaceable mortal. The ‘bored’ part might fit, if Bill wasn’t so bluntly fascinated by the topic. Obviously Bill thinks some suffering is fun, but this ‘conversation’ doesn’t entertain him. It’s something…

There… was a another idea. One Dipper kept to himself. 

An assumption, and one that he knows so, so much better than to speak aloud.

Not that he can ever do that again. 

Looking at Bill’s face, though. He’s gone quiet, momentarily. Looking back at Dipper with his head cocked to one side. Staring, intensely, like he wants to drill the answer straight out of his brain. Which he can, he’s Bill freakin’ Cipher. But he’s not doing it for whatever reason, so Dipper just has to roll with that.

At the end of the day, there’s no other conclusion to come to. 

That despite the all-seeing eye, the power of a god, and knowing mysteries of the multiverse - 

Maybe Bill actually, genuinely, doesn’t... 

Dipper has to try a couple times before he gets the letters down without them wobbling too much. He gets them down with careful strokes, board feeling heavy in his hands.

His hands only shake a little when he flips it around. 

‘You don’t know?’

“Hey, I know tons, kid! A billion things! I could tell you what I had for breakfast, January 25, 1938! Or what Machiavelli did in his spare time! But that’s stuff I was personally involved in.” Bill scoffs. Then waves vaguely, not meeting Dipper’s eye. “Whatever went on in your little conclave wasn’t on my radar. I might be short on specifics.” 

Even though he was already expecting something like that, the admission catches Dipper off guard. 

Holy shit, he was right.

Bill genuinely didn’t know. He just said it, though not in so many words. 

He just. Said it. 

There are things in the world that he doesn’t notice, or - or things that he misses, he’s not - 

As Dipper reels at the revelation, he braces himself on the desk. Bill’s arm shoots out, bracing his waist like he thinks Dipper’s going to fall. 

And. If this wasn’t for - if this wasn’t from Bill. If he didn’t command it from afar. If it wasn’t his order. Then it was always the people around him, especially the priest, and Dipper didn’t, maybe, do something wrong, he just. 

Dipper sniffs, then wipes at his face with his sleeve. Hopefully it looks like he was scratching an itch or something. 

Weirdly, Bill’s serious face starts edging towards… surprise? Alarm? He coughs into his fist. “So, about the-”

Dipper waves him off, then realizes that was stupid. He picks up the board again, and scribbles, ‘I can’t.’

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?”

How is he not getting this? Dipper huffs out a breath, and underlines ‘can’t’. Twice. 

Bill rolls his eye, patting the air in a calming motion. “Alright, alright. Straight up incapable! Now are we talking emotionally, spiritually…” It was already weird to see him serious. Now, his expression is far too calm.  “Or physically?”

Maybe Dipper shouldn’t admit this. Maybe telling Bill would get someone in trouble, but it’s not Dipper in trouble, maybe never should have been, and momentum carries him forward. 

It takes a second to write it. The words keep coming out wrong. 'They said it was for blasphemy’.

"Show me." Both Bill's face and voice are dead flat. 

The sharpness of the command stings. Dipper winces, jaw clenching tight. 

There’s the first order he’s been given. Until now, Bill hasn’t bothered, and all things considered it could be worse. 

But it is an order. Dipper swallows against the nausea rising, and clenches his fists.

Okay. He can do this. It’s been a long time since he took a look in the mirror at that particular sight, but - right, lord of nightmares. He’s probably seen way worse. 

Under Bill’s impatient gaze, Dipper carefully sets his board and marker aside. Then he shuts his eyes, points at his mouth, and opens it. 

He only holds it that way for, like, a little bit. Exposing this sucks. It makes his mouth dry, and having Bill stare at it makes the twist in his stomach worse.  A few seconds all he can stand before he shuts it again. 

A low growl rumbles. 

Then Bill’s thumb digs into the corner of his mouth, pulling it back and shoving in between his teeth. Dipper tries arching his head away, but Bill turns him back with a commanding grip on his chin. A thumb digs in, wedging his mouth open and pushing his teeth apart. The only choice is to open up or bite him, and it hurts - 

Dipper twists his head. Bill holds him still. The helpless ‘ah’ that comes out of his throat sounds strained and weak. Shit, he should just be quiet, it’s not like he’s not used to it at this point.

Continual pressure, Bill’s not giving in - so Dipper relents, letting Bill get his awful kicks out of the sight. Face burning, eyes shut. He’s never liked having to use his mouth since it happened, and Bill keeps staring when he should have only needed a glimpse to know what was wrong.

Bill holds him like that for a full ten seconds. Silent. Staring. 

Then he lets go. 

Dipper stumbles back, covering his mouth with both hands. Through the rapid blinking, he can see Bill take a deep breath in. 

And another one. 

Bill’s eye is twitching but otherwise, he’s dead-faced. No more smile, no easy stance. He’s tense and his fingers flex. His eye glows with a dull, burning light.

That’s… not a happy look. Dipper presses his back up against the wall. He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the heat from his own eyes.

When Bill punches the wall, it shatters as if hit with a sledgehammer.

Dipper drops. Legs folding, butt hitting the ground, and pressing his hands tight over his face. Shards of the wall tumble onto the carpet, and blink away into ash, as blue fire burns in the crater; drywall flaking away to reveal more of that same black stone.

“You have got to be kidding me! What kind of bullshit is THIS?” Bill’s voice rings through the room, loud and so angry. He starts pacing back and forth, throwing his arms in the air. “Bunch of half-witted jackasses ruining my stuff! And for what?” 

His voice turns strange and deep on some of the words, it resonates in the room, it makes the walls shake. 

Dipper shuffles up against the desk, taking shelter from the blooms of fire that seem to be popping up on the walls, and the floor, and - everywhere. It’s trailing along the baseboards, climbing up the corners.

Bill didn’t like that. He really, really didn’t like that. He’s angered his god again and it’s going to be bad.

“And in my name! Under my image! What a laugh!” Bill taps his foot against the carpet, teeth bared, eye glowing a bright, hot red - “They like blood rituals? Oh I’ll give ‘em a blood ritual.”

It feels like the entire building is moving by now, as Bill punctuates his statement with a kick. It tosses Dipper an inch off the ground, sending books and pens toppling to the floor. The door to the kitchen splinters into a thousand quietly screaming shards, before vanishing in acrid smoke. The heat’s rising, Bill’s way too close - and the light’s gone strange and shifting, casting stark shadows in dark black and bright light.

Dipper never should have mentioned anything. Never gone outside, never left his room, never spoken up, the last is a lesson he should know by now. Never should have thought that Bill didn’t have infinite wrath available, how stupid was he. 

All he can do now is try and make himself small. 

Tucking himself against the desk isn’t working but there’s nowhere else to go. Nothing in this room is safe, and it’s so hot - Dipper tries to breathe steadily but he can’t seem to get enough air.

“I never shoulda left that place intact in the first place!” Bill throws his head back, laughing to himself with a manic grin. “That’s the last time I let a bunch of stupid cultists live with their lungs on the inside.”

Bill punctuates his threat with another kick to the wall, which deforms like putty around him. Bill swears again. He yanks his leg, attempting to pull it out - and hey, the door’s open. Bill never shut it, he’s turned away for now and as long as he’s not looking - 

Dipper makes a break for it. 

Scrambling on hands and knees on too-hot carpet hurts, but the lower he keeps himself the less likely he’ll catch Bill’s eye again. A frantic couple of seconds later he’s out of the guest room, heart pounding, and he leaps to his feet and runs.

Can’t stay out here. Room’s too open, too many places to be cornered. Can’t be in the open or be seen, can’t remind Bill that the source of his anger is right here with him, so easy to catch and punish.

His brain catches up with him just as his foot hits stone. 

Dipper freezes in the doorway, breathing hard - but not stepping out. 

Okay, the exit opened easily enough, but he already knows that everything outside is terrifying and horrible and - he glances over his shoulder, at the blue light - it’s not much of an improvement. 

With a jerk, Dipper abandons that escape route, and turns back to face the penthouse. The light from the guest room is growing, Bill’s anger surging, and before he storms out Dipper needs a place to hide. 

There’s too much space under the piano. He’d never fit in the cupboards, or under the couch, and the fireplace is literally on fire - 

But there is one more open door that Dipper’s never been in before. 

Bill might not like it, but he also won’t look there first thing and it’s further away from him than where Dipper’s standing right now.

He’s through the door to Bill’s bedroom before he can stop himself -  no magical resistance, and no time to think about why - Dipper checks, but there’s no obvious exits, or closets, or even conveniently large wardrobes, why does - 

In the distance, Bill lets out a loud, angry incoherent sound. He hears the door slam, open or closed he can’t tell. 

As another rumble shakes the Fearamid,  Dipper ducks and slides underneath the too-large bed.

Thank hell the bed’s totally oversized; there’s enough space to crawl, so he shuffles up and back, towards the headboard. It’s a little dusty and there’s some clutter he can’t see, but all that is easily shoved aside until he curls up, tight, against the wall and under the frame.

That’s it. As far away as he can get.

Nothing left to do but wait.

It feels like a long time. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. There’s no way to tell, with the only frame of reference being his own heart pounding, too fast. 

The building has gone still again, which. Hopefully that’s a good sign. Maybe Bill’s calming down. Maybe he’s moved somewhere else. Maybe he noticed Dipper left, and he’s going to hunt him down and - 

But it might take him a while. This is a decent hiding space. The blankets draped back down after he slid under, covering any line of sight. And all the light. Everything’s dark, and the cloth and bed muffle all the distant sounds. 

Somewhere, Bill lets out a single, furious shout. Dipper winces, but he can’t make out the words anymore. It could be about anything.

After that, there’s silence again. 

Simply waiting means he could stalk in without any sign. He can be quiet, he’s basically a supernatural predator, and an ambush - he needs some warning. 

Dipper shuffles until he faces the wall, pressing his ear against the floor, listening for the approach - No footsteps. Yet. He can still feel his heart beating at a rapid pace, but he thinks he’s not panting anymore, so. That’s good. 

The quiet, and dark, and - for some, incredibly weird reason - the smell of the room itself all combine into a strangely calming effect. Not that it’s safe, because absolutely isn’t; there’s literally only a duvet keeping him out of sight.

It just. Feels a little safer. For stupid, back-of-the-brain reasons, totally irrational. Like an animal retreating into its burrow from a predator, pinging ancient instincts.

Which isn’t rational in the slightest. Not to mention the danger is Bill Cipher himself. Dipper’s putting his faith into a blanket keeping a monster from seeing him, and if it wasn’t so terrifyingly real it’d almost be funny.

This is the best he’s got for now. He’ll figure out the next step later. Whenever that is.

The one positive note is the yelling’s been done for a while now. Quiet is a welcome relief. Even if it’s temporary. 

Very temporary, as a sudden commotion starts up in the living room.

By the sound of it, Bill’s stomping around and making a clatter. He’s messing around with objects. Breaking something, maybe. Doesn’t matter, as long as he’s not breaking someone.

More thudding - faster, like a run - then Bill’s voice, loud and slightly breathless. “Hey! Pine Tree?” 

A long pause.

Dipper tucks his legs up against himself, wrapping his good arm around them. His other wrist throbs; he holds it close to his chest.

Swearing resumes, at a lower volume - then a rapid thump of a run, before an abrupt stop. 

Then Bill shouts again, echoing and distant, as if down a hallway. “Dipper!”

The name rings through Dipper’s nerves like a bell. It’s like being clanged against a metal pot, sudden and shocking, vibrations running through him. He clasps his arm tighter around his legs, and shuts his eyes.

It- maybe that was less angry? Bill, wondering where he went. Dipper’s not in trouble. He shouldn’t be in trouble. It wouldn’t be fair, it wasn’t fair before and it wouldn’t be now, he was just doing what he was told this time - and there’s no way to get out of here. There’s nowhere else to go.

Dipper pushes his nose into his sleeve, face against the fabric. 

It’s too much to hope that Bill’s not upset - but he might have taken off somewhere. Found someone else to take his anger out on. A more deserving target.

He won’t be mad forever. Right?. His emotions are flighty, and he’s easier-going than the sermons made him seem. Given enough time, maybe Dipper can uncurl himself from this place, sneak back to the probably-ruined guestroom, and -

Footsteps, again. Close. 

Dipper jerks his head up from the floor and he can still hear them, even through the cover of the bed and blanket.

Bill’s not just back, he’s in the room with him. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he take off, that was the worst thing he could ever have done. The eye of God is always watching, witnessing everything Dipper does. 

He can run, and he can hide, but in the end he will always face judgment.

He claps a hand over his mouth and nose. Holds his breath. A few more seconds. A minute. Every moment he can get is precious.

Bill’s shoes on the carpet make a loud, distinctive thump. The sound heads towards the fireplace of the room - then pauses, and turns back to the door. A quick, repetitive path, back and forth. Not near the bed, yet. Bill’s muttering something under his breath that’s too quiet to make out, staying in the room, not leaving, until Dipper’s lungs burn with the effort to keep still. Keep silent.

“Fuck!” Something slams into the bed, a thump on the mattress that sends the frame shaking. Despite all his effort, some air escapes Dipper’s lungs through his nose with a short, high sound. He clamps his fingers over it, but it’s too late. 

Silence. 

Bill goes still. He’s next to the bed. But he’s not setting everything under the bed aflame, or swearing or yelling anymore. Dipper holds his breath again, daring to hope-

“Aha!” The blankets whip up, letting all the light in - and showing Bill’s huge, sharp teeth bared in a grin. “There you are!” 

Dipper turns away. He faces the back wall, he lowers his head.

“I thought you almost ran out again for a sec!” A low whistle. “Be a real shame if you got devoured, kid. I’ve barely even started with you!” There’s a shuffle, like Bill - the god - himself might actually be kneeling, if only to get a better look. “C’mere.”

Dipper shakes his head. Behind him, he hears Bill let out a displeased grunt.

No, he’s not coming out. Not for this. Not even if Bill’s mad about it. 

There's punishment waiting, once he emerges. Dipper can handle it. He has before.

But he will not go willingly. He never has. 

Obedience truly offers no protection. Bill asked Dipper to tell him. Dipper did as he was told for once. Getting hurt for it is just unfair. Hi only did what he thought was right. That's all he's ever done, no matter what anyone else says, and even if some of it was blasphemous then it sure as hell wasn't any of Bill’s business. He doesn’t even know what was said. 

If Bill wants to make a big, agonizing show out of something that upset him, then whatever. He can't be stopped. 

But he doesn’t get to pretend it's anything but cruel. 

He'll have to drag Dipper out.

Another grunt behind him, and the shuffle of something on carpet. Dipper hears it come closer, then the soft brush of something on his back - he flinches. 

“Oh, for-” A heavy sigh, then a retreating scuffle. Bill mutters something under his breath, then, “Under the bed is where monsters live, sapling. By all rights I should join you! Might wanna get outta the way first.”

Dipper doesn’t move, or respond. He remains still, in the desperate hope that Bill will find it boring enough to leave him be.

There’s a pause. A long one, at that.

The silence lingers, for three seconds. Then five. Ten. 

“Okay! Okay, I get it.” Bill says. His tone is calmer, though more sarcastic than soothing. “So the little scene earlier got you freaked out. It’d be a pretty poor showing on my part if I didn’t inspire terror! But none of that was about you, kid.” A patting sound, like a palm on carpet. “You’re fine! No cowering needed!”

Yeah, right. Dipper almost rolls his eyes. 

Oh, no, of course he’s not in trouble. He just needs to come out so they can have a little ‘talk’, or participate in this one little ‘ritual’. With commentary that never once mentions his name, but says it louder than any words. 

It wasn’t true then, and isn’t true now. One of Bill’s major domains is deception, and in plain terms -  blasphemous ones - that makes him a big fat liar.

Dipper tucks his chin down further. Bill missed getting hold of his shirt earlier, so he’s sure as hell not offering his hair as purchase. If he wants to wreak vengeance, he better break down the bed or scoot back under.

Either way, Dipper gets the small satisfaction of making him work for it. It’ll almost be worth what follows.

“Seriously!” Bill says, indignant this time. “Cross my heart and hope to rot in a grave, you’re not the guy in trouble.” He waits a beat, then another - then an annoyed groan, as his lies have no effect. “Always a friggin’ skeptic, huh.”

He pauses, then, “What do you want, kid? A bribe, maybe? Do I gotta blackmail you outta there?” A hum of thought. “Okay, both! If you get outta there, I won’t read your dumb journal and will get you something reaaally nice.”

Let him talk all he wants. It doesn’t mean anything. 

“You gotta come out eventually, y’know.” Bill continues. Dipper tries to tune out his voice, but Bill’s very hard to ignore. “You can’t live there forever!”

It’s true, Dipper can’t. At some point, he’s going to need water, or to eat, or use the bathroom. All kinds of mortal human necessities. 

But until then, he can put off the consequences. Annoying Bill is just a bonus. 

Another, louder groan, and then Dipper hears Bill’s shoes on the carpet again. He stands by the bed for a moment, then goes back to tracing the same pacing path, back and forth. Not bored enough to leave, not annoyed enough to pursue. Even the slight reprieve is a surprising relief. 

Bill's also muttering to himself again. Mostly swearing, by the sound of it, but Dipper thinks he hears the word ‘stubborn’. Which tracks.

How long will it take before Bill gives up? Will he give up? Dipper’s kept his interactions with him to a minimum; he doesn’t know how much patience Bill has. Or how long it’ll last until the fire blooms under the already stifling bedframe, heat building -

“Ha!” Bill snaps his fingers. Chuckling, too, like he’s just had a great idea. 

Okay. Not that long, then. 

Before he can curl up even tighter in the cramped space, he hears Bill’s thudding footsteps - 

Running out of the room?

Dipper waits for a moment. He squirms around enough to tilt his head, checking the space left from Bill raising the blankets. Nothing there.

It’s too much to hope that Bill’s truly gone. He’ll be back. By his exclamation and sudden exit, he’s preparing for some dubiously good idea. He’s going to…

To… 

Something.

For a moment, Dipper almost wishes he had hung out with Bill more. Talked to him, or, well. Wrote something to him. Maybe then he’d have a better idea of what’s going on in that insane, convoluted head of his. It’s not burning Dipper out, apparently, or convincing him through lies. But that just leaves a giant blank space he can’t fill in with useful information.

It barely takes a minute before the sound of Bill storming back in breaks his train of thought. 

Since Dipper knows a scheme is being pulled, he’s sorta prepared. He hopes it won’t hurt, or not hurt too badly.

“Alright.” Bill returns to his previous position, standing by the bed. His breathing has slightly picked up, like he ran all the way somewhere and back. “How about this, then?”

Dipper doesn’t respond. He can tell Bill’s getting back down to peek under the bed; the shadows show it, there’s a scuffle on carpet. 

Then, Bill’s voice. Higher pitched, somewhere in the range of cloying and deeply annoying. “What’s wrong, Pine Tree?”

What.

“I heard that someone is reaaaal upset!” Bill continues, with the same godawful tone. “Why don’t you come out and have a big cuddle with your-” A pause, a quick ‘eugh’ - “Squishy little friend! Mini-Bill!”

Okay, what.

Dipper turns away from the wall out of sheer morbid curiosity. 

The first thing he catches is Bill - looking annoyed, until he sees Dipper turn to look and instantly brightens. He’s crouched by the bed, looking sideways under the frame, one arm extended, and he’s wiggling the stupid Bill plush.

Dipper stares at it. Bill jiggles mini-him some more, making the black legs and arms flop around like the most noodly of puppets. 

Bill dashed off like something was urgent, but it was really only just across the penthouse. Then he dug that out from under Dipper’s pillow, and ran back like he’d just had an amazing idea. 

It’s so…

Dumb.

With a playful whistle. Bill makes the puppet’s arms rise up like it’s offering a hug, clapping its little hands together.

In fact, Bill Cipher - is a goddamn idiot.

It’s the same phrase that always occupies a part of Dipper’s brain, only this time instead of the shame, the self-recrimination, and the memory of pain - he kinda feels like he wants to laugh. 

God. That’s. Vindication, isn’t it. Even while he’s in danger, it feels really, really good.

Bill catches him watching, and all his smugness returns in a rush. “Ha! Knew this would work.” He says - in his normal tone, thank fuck. “Your - ugh - little friend is waiting, kid! Come give ‘em a kiss!”

Alright, that’s enough. 

Dipper makes a swipe for the plushie, but Bill’s quicker on the draw and he misses by inches. That also brought him perilously close to Bill-range - he retreats before Bill can swipe right back.

Too bad. He’s not getting out of here yet. Being under the bed has been safe, so far. He can’t give that up. 

Bill groans, slumping down onto the carpet. He lies on his side, turning Mini-Bill around to glare like somehow it’s the reason Dipper didn’t give in. 

“Fine. Fine! Take your dumb toy, if he makes you feel so much better,” Bill says, mockingly. With a wordless sneer, he flings the plush in Dipper’s direction and flops down on his back. “He’s stupid anyway.”

Mini-Bill lands just far enough away that Dipper has to shuffle forward to grab it. Bill doesn’t move from where he’s lying, giving Dipper enough time to scoot back against the wall and bring it to his chest, holding tight. 

Yes, it’s dumb that Bill got this. Yes, it’s also dumb that Dipper’s glad he got it, and he knows it’s totally stupid, but having the one soft thing in his life in his arms again does make him feel better.

He checks Mini-Bill - still intact, undamaged - then back at the regular-sized version.

Bill lets out a derisive snort, but doesn’t speak. He folds his arms over his chest.

That… was nothing like Dipper expected.

That can’t have been his whole plan. Right? There’s another plot. Deception that he hasn’t seen yet. 

On the carpet, Bill lies flat on his back. He’s glaring at the ceiling. One finger taps an impatient beat on his bicep. And while there’s no smile on his face, he doesn’t look angry, exactly, even though his brow is furrowed.  It takes a second for Dipper to parse.

Bill. Actually looks…

Tired.

Not physically, of course, there’s no sweat on him. Simply like he’s run out of energy, and needs a moment to recharge. Like someone poked a pin in an inflatable plan, one he put a lot of work into, and now he needs a minute to sulk.

Which means he’s not up to anything just yet. 

Dipper squeezes Mini-Bill a few times. It’s soft and clean. A quick check proves it doesn’t even smell like smoke from all the burning; the guest room must be pretty intact. 

After a moment, he wriggles onto his stomach, plushie tucked between his shoulder and ear. 

But he slows down, and stops. Bill’s eye is on him again, half-lidded. Contemplative.

 “What a shame. My human’s decided to dwell with the dust bunnies.” Bill lays the back of a hand dramatically against his forehead, though his eye stays firmly on Dipper. “And here I was, just about to tell ‘em the real reason he’s here.” The barest flicker of a grin, quickly repressed. “Guess he’ll never learn it now!”

Okay, that's a temptation. Dipper glares, but it only makes Bill’s smile creep into a grin. 

And… fine. It’s effective, too. 

Whatever. Bill was right, earlier. Dipper really can’t stay under the bed forever. It’s cramped and dark and uncomfortably tight. It’s only been about half an hour and parts of him are already sore.

And if he’s got to get out, then now’s as good a time as any. 

He rolls onto his stomach, and inches forward, before pausing with a jolt as Bill scrambles up to a sitting position. But he doesn’t go for a grab. He just…  watches, with a weird amount of anticipation. When he sees Dipper hesitate, he starts patting his knees. 

Great, Bill’s not just stupid, he’s a dork. 

Yet another difference from doctrine. The list is getting really long - but Dipper’s okay with that. 

It could totally be worse. Way worse.

Crawling his way out is way harder than it was getting in. Without the energy of panic, it’s kind of a pain in the ass. Hiding in a barely accessible place seemed like a great idea until he had to get himself out.

It’s a far less eventful exit than he pictured. More awkward than anything. Also, the sideboard is lower than the space under the bed, and Dipper hits his head on it with a - well, he can’t swear. But he wants to. 

“Having trouble, kid?” Bill says, sounding amused. He gets to his feet, grinning wide. “No problem. Lemme get that for ya!” And snaps his fingers.

Light floods over Dipper. So does space, in an alarming amount. 

He glances around, where there’s no frame or legs or mattress or - where the hell did the bed go?

“Up you go!” Bill takes hold of Dipper’s arms, pulling him to his feet. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Dipper looks behind him - no, the bed wasn’t turned over, or anything. He can’t see a blanket or a shred of wood around. But if Bill he can make things out of nowhere, he can get rid of them too, and -

He. Probably could have done this the entire time. 

“Hey,” Bill says. He catches Dipper’s attention again with a little shake, holding onto his upper arms. “Listen up, ‘cause you weren’t earlier - You aren’t the guy I was mad at, kid.”

A brief, hesitant nod. Yeah. Okay. 

By now Dipper’s pretty sure that’s the case, or everything else wouldn’t make sense. But the way he - with the punching, and the yelling, the distorted reality -

“No, really! I wanted you in mint condition, sapling. I’m mad at whatever empty-headed asshole decided they should perform an objectively stupid surgery! ” His smile flickers into a grimace, sharp teeth very white in his face. “Someone made a real dumb call.”

On that, they can agree. Dipper nods, one sharp motion. He sniffs, and swallows.

Bill’s smile is back, but not the standard version. This is a thin thing, with tension around his eye. 

Though Dipper hasn’t been here long, he has learned a few things. One of them is how to read the variations of ‘happy’ that Bill puts on. It’s a clear cover for other emotions, running just below the surface

Right now, Bill’s still mad. He’s furious.

But like he said - it’s not at Dipper. 

This is anger with no immediate outlet, burning underneath his skin. His eye is focused elsewhere, off into the distance over Dipper’s left shoulder, like he can see the person he wants dead but just can’t reach them. Yet.

And Dipper knows exactly how that feels. For exactly the same reason.

There’s something they can both agree on. It was totally bullshit. Unfair and cruel and - and Bill himself had nothing to do with it, he’d never have ordered it done. Maybe Bill would never have said Dipper deserved to - 

Dipper takes another, longer, sniff. Clears his throat, blinking rapidly. No, can’t - not the time for that. Dwell on it later, not in front of a friggin’ god.

Bill clears his throat, smile shifting ever so slightly. “Hey hey hey! Easy, there.” He winks, sliding his hands up to pat Dipper’s shoulders. “I, for one, think a little vengeance is in order. And since it was your tongue, I’ll even let you pick the method! How’s that sound?”

That sounds… violent. Gory and chaotic and -  knowing Bill - filled with maniacal laughter.

Some deep part of Dipper even likes the idea, but he knows couldn’t go through with it. Even thinking about it makes him feel so, so tired. And awful. Pre-grossed out by the blood. There’s been too much of that already. Still, he nods again, which makes Bill cheer up. The prospect of future chaos, whenever that may be. 

Though if Bill tries following up on that, it’ll be pretty hard to pull off. The culprit was last seen dead on the steps of the altar.

“Welp!” Bill claps his hands together. “Can’t say this was a total shitshow! I learned a lot about you today.” He cocks his head to one side. “More than I thought I would.”

A dismissal. According to Bill, everything’s wrapped up. 

As he takes a step back, Dipper grabs him by his shirt. It stops him right in his tracks. For a single, stuttering heartbeat, Dipper thinks he’s fucked up, again. 

“Oh? Not done with me yet, are ya?” Bill purrs, clearly delighted. He spreads his arms wide. “What’s up, sapling? Miss me already?” He ruffles Dipper’s hair in a rough, annoying way. “I haven’t even gone anywhere!”

No, that’s not it. Dipper frowns, and shakes his head. Though it doesn’t dislodge Bill’s hand, he ignores it

There’s a lot of things Dipper doesn’t get about this place. How it works. Where, exactly, the hell he is. But ever since he was dragged from reality and brought to a weird god’s realm, he’s mostly wondered why. 

Why him. Why then, why bring him here in the first place, why stitch him up and feed and house him. Why not earlier, damn it. 

And Bill just beckoned him out with a clear, though indirect, offer. 

He doesn’t get to back out of it that easily.

“Do me a favor, will ya?” Bill says, slow. He moves in fast enough that Dipper has to back up this time. 

Wow, they’re, uh. Really close now. Dipper has a close-up view of Bill’s collar, before a touch on his chin lifts his head. 

“If you’re gonna invade my room, sapling.” There’s a twinkle in Bill’s eye. “You should get in the bed instead of under it.”

What, like. Hide under the blankets? Literally, next time? Dipper guesses that makes… some kind of sense. In a nightmare realm, made of thoughts. Shifting spaces, lingering ideas - maybe it actually does protect you from monsters. That’d be strange, but…

Damn it, this place better not run on metaphors, or that’s going to be really annoying to parse.

Also, Bill’s giving him a weird look. He stares forward, lips tucked in, like he didn’t say what he meant to, or a great line didn’t land.

Wait. Was that a joke? Weird god-demon humor? A reference? It could - no, he’s getting distracted. Letting Bill change the subject lets him get away without answering. He gives Bill’s shirt another tug, insistent.

“What’s up?”

Oh, for - Maybe Bill should put some of that infinite knowledge towards remembering what he said three minutes ago. 

Dipper holds his hand out flat, scribbling an invisible pen on his palm. Thankfully Bill gets that hint; another board snaps into existence, and Dipper takes it not very gently from his hold.

It only takes a second to write it out, though Bill keeps trying to lean over the board for a peek. 

‘Why am I here?’

“Oh, that.” Bill says airly, looking up and to the side. He’s avoiding Dipper’s gaze. “Y’know. Reasons.”

Dipper takes a deep breath, and lets it out. Okay. Secrets. Another of Bill’s domains, he gets that, but still. He underlines the question, twice. 

“Boy, you’re real curious arent’cha?”

Yes, he is. How much more obvious could it be? Dipper taps the end of the marker on the board - then sighs, and writes a quick addition. ‘Please’. 

“How polite!” Bill’s smile turns mocking, squeezing Dipper’s shoulders. “Wanna add a ‘pretty’ to that?”

That- Fine. Dipper grits his teeth. After the day he’s had, he can handle one last awful thing. For answers.

The marker smudges from the pressure as Dipper painstakingly scrawls down the word.

“Hm.” Bill’s eye narrows as he hums in thought, He rubs his chin, head tilting to the side. Taking his damn time, too, as he looks Dipper over like he’s evaluating a rather expensive purchase.

It never hurts to look presentable in front of a deity, when it comes to something important. The best he can do is stand up straight, and look attentive. Bill shouldn’t mind. He should just spit it out already.

“The reason you’re here, mortal…” Bill says, drawing the sentence out, word by word. He smiles, something slow and sharp, as his thumb strokes over Dipper’s cheek - then pinches it. “Is for me to know, and you to wonder about!” 

What? 

Fucking what?

As Bill draws back, Dipper’s mouth works, no sound coming out. Another yank on Bill’s shirt does nothing except make him laugh. 

It’s not funny. It’s important, it’s - Heat rises into Dipper’s face. His shoulders inch up towards his ears.

Bill can’t just do that. Not after today. Not after everything Dipper’s been through, the demons, the tantrum, the stupid talk to get him out of the bed. The totally humiliating plea. Dangling this in front of him, the reason he’s been kidnapped and confused and basically alone this whole time, then taking it back? 

Nothing ever goes right for Dipper when it comes to his awful god, and - and the laughter stings. Embarrassment burns and rises on the coattails of all the other bullshit Dipper’s dealt with today; there’s heat in his chest and a knot in his stomach. 

That’s not what he said. It’s not fair.

He can’t just do that. 

“Yep! You’re not getting that one outta me. Nice try, though.” Bill taps his finger against the end of Dipper’s nose, making him flinch. “You’re never gonna gue-”

Rational thought doesn’t have time to catch up before Dipper’s fist meets Bill’s face. 

It lands, painfully, in the juncture of his head and neck. With more of a thud than a crack - but it does jerk Bill’s head to the side, and that’s a minor win.

Or would, be, if it had the right effect. 

Bill looks surprised and totally unhurt, while Dipper’s knuckles definitely sting from the contact. He shakes them to get some feeling back. What the hell, how durable is that bastard - 

His brain, screaming from the background, kicks in again. 

Dipper grips his hand tight as shame rising higher in his chest, a burning tide. It feels like he’ll choke on it.

Stupid, stupid stupid. How could Dipper be this dumb, he’s in the realm of a god, helpless, powerless, at the mercy of his whims  - and if Bill wasn’t mad before then he’s definitely mad now. 

God, this always happens, Dipper does something stupid, he stupidly defies god’s will, and there’s always consequences, no matter how he fights.

He looks up at Bill, chest heaving. Bill looks right back, rubbing his jaw - and starting to smile, wide. Showing those dangerous, predatory teeth.

No way to get out of here. Leaving the penthouse means other dangers, and leaving the realm is impossible. Even if he could, Bill’s got a memory a million years long, and he put a knife in the priest’s chest so casually that it was like putting it back in a drawer.

But Dipper can avoid him, for a bit. Along with all other awful things he found out today, he learned that fact.

He turns on his heel, ready to make his second run of the day.

It fails almost instantly.

One step into his retreat, Bill seizes him by the waist and drags him in, too quick by far. Strong, too; kicking out doesn’t work, hitting him again doesn’t work, he struggles against the tight grip and it only makes Bill let out a terrible, cackling laugh. 

Arms come around him, then, drawing him in too close to even hit the bastard anymore, or struggle effectively. They squeeze so tight it’s nearly hard to breathe. Dipper feels a warm grip on the back of his neck, firm and relentless. 

God. He never stood a chance against Bill, did he. Too strong, too quick. Too weird to understand, or placate. Nothing was going to be clear, or forthright, or helpful or safe. 

Escaping the cult didn’t matter, all of Bill’s previous patience didn’t matter, things are alway going to turn against him and ruin his day and his life. It doesn’t matter where Dipper is, it’s always going to be like this. 

It was never going to be okay. 

The strangled noise that escapes his throat sounds so much worse than a normal person’s. A wordless, helpless sound he can’t stop, there’s too much frustration and anger and sheer exhaustion, and Bill’s holding him really right, up against his chest. Dipper headbutts his shoulder in one last attempt at escape, then just. Leaves it there. 

Bill can retaliate whenever he wants. Dipper can’t fight right now, he just - He needs a minute.

The minute lasts. And passes. 

Also, Bill’s shirt is really soft, so it doesn’t hurt when he rubs his face against it. Fuck, and now he’s getting it wet -  but actually, fuck Bill, he’s the one who caused all of this. 

Absolutely everything is Bill Cipher’s fault, even if indirectly. Dipper hiccups, then wipes his nose on the soft cloth. 

It’s all soggy and gross now, he screwed up again - 

But no, Bill deserves it. He hopes it sucks for Bill as much as it does for him, trying to stop his chest from heaving. Bill could have let him go and avoided this, but no, he’s stuck in his arms. Let that asshole get all damp. 

At some point Dipper started clinging back, but that’s only because he couldn’t go anywhere else. Bill hasn’t relented even in the slightest, this entire time. He’s stroking a palm up and down Dipper’s back in a slow, warm rhythm because he’s super goddamn weird. 

Much like living under the bed, this, too, can’t last forever. 

Eventually Dipper sighs. The breath is shaky. Still more solid. He doesn’t have any more to let out.

He’s. Still pretty embarrassed, but he can’t see Bill’s face and he’s not dead. Two okay points in what’s otherwise been… not the worst day of Dipper’s life. But maybe in the top ten.

The hand playing with the hair at the back of his neck slows. Then it strokes through his hair again, and down. Bill pats him between the shoulders, letting out a low sigh. 

“Aw, look at you. All torn up ‘cause the answer wasn’t handed to ya on a silver platter.” Bill pats his back a couple more times. “Man, are you full of fluids!”

A little squirming manages to free Dipper from Bill, at least by a few inches. Bill gives him a once-over, then pushes a handkerchief into his face. 

It’s too late to pretend none of that happened. Or cover up, for dignity’s sake. Or back up, for that matter. With his cover totally blown, Dipper takes the damn thing so he can stop ruining Bill’s shirt, and wipes his face.

“Tell ya what. You had yourself a big day, and your poor human brain’s probably way too overwhelmed to be of use, sooooo…” Bill says, drawing out the word slowly. Smug, again, despite his snotty shoulder and too-close human. “I guess I can part with one hint.”

Dipper looks up. Bill meets his gaze with a grin, totally unbothered. Oddly unbothered.

It’s… it’s like he truly doesn’t mind that his shirt is ruined because some random human’s having a fit, or that he’s been bothered by pointless crap ruining his evening. Bill looks…

Well, he’s… not amused, exactly. Something less snide, and downright impossible to place.

“Truth is…” Bill leans in close, and winks. “You’re special, sapling.” He lingers for a moment - then squeezes Dipper again, slightly more gentle. “Have fun working out what that entails.”

Special. 

Sure, it’s a hint. One that’s sorta true. With everything else that’s happened, denying it outright would throw all of the other hints out with the bathwater. But…

Dipper, of all people. Special. 

It’s one hell of a word choice - and it’s totally, classically Bill. 

With just one word, Bill implied a secret with deep importance. Saying that, deep down, Dipper has something nobody else does. 

Because of course he did. It’s about the allure. 

Everyone wants to be important. Being important to a god, triply so. It’s the carrot at the end of a long, long stick. A temptation. Doesn’t Dipper want to know why he’s ‘special’? Wouldn’t it be cool if he was? The intrigue is exactly why it’s so dangerous.

His first instinct was right. Bill is an asshole. And a big fat liar. 

Dipper blows his nose into the handkerchief, sniffing again. Looking awed at the ‘reveal’ would be the right response, but he’s too tired to play along. And by the look of it, Bill doesn’t mind that either. 

“Gross,” Bill says, but his smile doesn’t alter a fraction. Dipper can’t see any other emotion behind it, for once. He reaches up, thumb smoothing some hair behind his ear, before his arm slips around Dipper’s waist. “No amount of special stops you from being organic, unfortunately.”

Yet more Bill, revealed. A liar, an asshole - and definitely the type of guy who can’t leave an insouciant comment unsaid. It’s completely unsurprising. 

Even though he doesn’t need to, Dipper blows his nose again, just to watch Bill make a face. He rubs at his eyes, trying to dispel some of the lingering heat. 

It doesn’t matter though, Dipper guesses. Bill’s always going to be really goddamned weird and erratic and insane. A person that no amount of learning enables you to entirely predict.

He’s just going to have to work around it. Somehow.

With a smile, Bill starts up his slow petting again. His arms are warm, and that inhuman strength isn’t so bad when it’s just. Holding. 

It’s been a long time - or, how long has it been? Years, maybe… god, Dipper can’t remember the last time someone just- 

He takes a slow, shuddering breath. Bill goes very still for a moment, then he squeezes Dipper around the back, with both arms. Not hard, just tight enough to be kind of…

Wow. Okay.

This is a hug. Bill might lie about it later, but there’s literally no other word for it. 

Dipper turns to rest his forehead on Bill’s dry shoulder, and listens to him chuckle. He can feel his chest moving under his hand, and the steady beat of an inhuman heart. 

There’s a secret here. One about Dipper, and what he means. Bill’s partially revealed it, and he wants Dipper to work out the rest. Best thing to do would be to get on that immediately.

But he’ll have time for that later. 

He can stay here for a bit. Until Bill gets bored with this part too. 

Dipper lets out a sigh, and lets himself relax. He feels the slow stroke start up on his back again, and a low contented hum. This warm body, firm under his arms. 

Even if it’s a lie, it makes Dipper feel like he’s special. Just for a moment. 

[bilgiarena]

Healthy - Platin

Introduction to healthy snacks and their importance in a balanced diet Healthy snacks play a crucial role in maintaining a balanced diet and promoting overall health. These snacks are typically nutrient-dense and provide essential vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants that support optimal bodily functions. They are also low in added sugars, unhealthy fats, and artificial ingredients, making them a healthier alternative to processed snacks. By incorporating healthy snacks into our daily diet, we can ensure that our bodies receive the necessary nutrients to thrive. Benefits of including healthy snacks in daily diet Including healthy snacks in our daily diet offers numerous benefits. Firstly, they provide a steady source of energy throughout the day, preventing dips in blood sugar levels and helping to maintain focus and productivity. Additionally, healthy snacks can improve nutrient intake, as they often contain essential vitamins, minerals, and fiber that may be lacking in other meals. Snacking on nutritious foods can also help curb cravings for unhealthy options, reducing the likelihood of overeating or making poor food choices. Role of healthy snacks in weight management and overall health Healthy snacks can play a significant role in weight management and overall health. When chosen wisely, they can help control hunger and prevent overeating during main meals. Snacks that are high in fiber and protein can increase feelings of fullness and promote satiety, reducing the desire to consume excessive calories. Additionally, incorporating healthy snacks into a balanced diet can support weight loss efforts by providing essential nutrients while keeping calorie intake in check. Moreover, healthy snacks are often associated with the Mediterranean diet, keto diet which has been widely recognized for its numerous health benefits. This diet emphasizes fruits, vegetables, whole grains, lean proteins, and healthy fats, such as those found in nuts and seeds. Studies have shown that following a Mediterranean diet can help prevent heart disease, improve brain health, and reduce the risk of chronic diseases. By choosing healthy snacks that align with the principles of the Mediterranean diet, individuals can further enhance their overall health and well-being.

[soulfulsam42]

I read that Edwin's birthday is January 1st, 1900 and decided to see if a star chart for someone born in London, England on January 1st, 1900 at 8:37 PM would match his personality. It's like a freaking character study.

*Full description of Edwin's birth chart below for anyone having trouble reading the picture

______________________________________________________________

Sun

Capricorn, 11°1'46"

fifth house

The sun determines your ego, identity, and "role" in life. It's the core of who you are, and is the sign you're most likely to already know. Your Sun is in Capricorn, meaning you are fundamentally responsible, serious, efficient, and rational. This can lead to a power-hungry ambitiousness (you have a tendency for workaholism and success), or support for the dreams of those around you. Emotionally reserved, you need to learn to express your inner world and have fun. It's in your fifth house, meaning you feel the need to distinguish yourself from others through romance, self-expression, creativity, and pleasure.

Ascendant

Virgo, 1°59'39"

first house

Your ascendant is the "mask" you present to people. It can be seen in your personal style and how you come off to people when you first meet. Some say it becomes less relevant as you get older. It changes every two hours, so if it doesn't make sense, reconfirm your birth time to be sure. Your Ascendant is in Virgo, meaning you come across as precise, diligent, peace-seeking, and organized. You may seem a bit too attached to work, details, and the pursuit of perfection, which sometimes makes you seem a bit boring.

Moon

Capricorn, 14°49'49"

fifth house

The moon rules your emotions, moods, and feelings. This is likely the sign you most think of yourself as, since it reflects your personality when you're alone or deeply comfortable. Your Moon is in Capricorn, meaning your emotional self is somewhat repressed in the name of responsibility, seriousness, and rationality. You crave the guidance and comfort of a teacher or parent. It's in your fifth house, meaning you find security and safety through romance, self-expression, creativity, and pleasure.

Mercury

Sagittarius, 20°6'13"

fourth house

Mercury determines how you communicate, talk, think, and process information. It also indicates how you learn. It is the mind's planet. Your Mercury is in Sagittarius, meaning your intellect is expansive, boundary-pushing, and independent. Through your sincere and irreverent curiosity about everything, you have a critical opinion of most things. A big picture thinker, you find yourself unconcerned with details. You tend to be fairly sarcastic and make other people feel uncertain. It's in your fourth house, meaning you are curious about and inclined to analyze how to take care of people and what feels like home.

Venus

Aquarius, 7°26'32"

sixth house

Venus determines how and what you love. It indicates how you express affection and the qualities you're attracted to. Your Venus is in Aquarius, meaning your romantic side is unconventional, intellectual, and somewhat detached. You can be bubbly and obvious when you like someone, but typically you prefer forms of intimacy less obvious than romance. It's in your sixth house, meaning that for you, love is often expressed in routines.

Mars

Capricorn, 14°31'46"

fifth house

Mars is the planet of aggression. It determines how you assert yourself, take action, and the energy that surrounds you—particularly in your sex life, your ambitiousness, and when you're angry. Your Mars is in Capricorn, meaning you assert yourself in a way that is responsible and efficient, and you think things through very intentionally. Highly motivated by ambition, your rationality sometimes seems soulless. It's in your fifth house, meaning you put a lot of energy into romance, self-expression, creativity, and pleasure.

Jupiter

Sagittarius, 1°18'14"

fourth house

One of the two social planets, Jupiter rules idealism, optimism, and expansion. It's also very philosophical. Your Jupiter is in Sagittarius, meaning you grow and find understanding through questioning, curiosity, independence, and debate. It's in your fourth house, meaning you find success through your home and family.

Saturn

Sagittarius, 27°48'53"

fifth house

The other social planet, Saturn rules responsibility, restrictions, limits, boundaries, fears, and self-discipline. Your Saturn is in Sagittarius, meaning you struggle with restlessness, self-questioning, boredom, and your bluntness. It's in your fifth house, meaning you have had difficulties with romance, self-expression, creativity, and pleasure.

Uranus

Sagittarius, 10°11'13"

fourth house

Uranus stays in each sign for seven years, meaning it rules a generation more than a person. It rules innovation, rebellion, and progress. Your Uranus is in Sagittarius, meaning other generations are shocked by the boundaries your generation are pushing, along with your restlessness and criticism. It's in your fourth house, meaning that for you, this manifests in rebelling against dated expectations about the home and family.

Neptune

Gemini, 25°11'45"

tenth house

Neptune stays in each sign for around fourteen years, meaning it rules a generation more than a person. It rules dreams, imagination, and the unconscious. Your Neptune is in Gemini, meaning your entire generation finds inspiration through curiosity, mental adventure, and trying new things. It's in your tenth house, meaning that for you, this manifests in your ideal—verging on unrealistic and impractical—about success and responsibility.

Pluto

Gemini, 15°14'15"

tenth house

Pluto stays in each sign for up to thirty years, meaning it rules a generation more than a person. It rules power, intensity, obsession, and control. Your Pluto is in Gemini, meaning your generation's psyche is comparatively dynamic, restless, scattered, and anxious. It's in your tenth house, meaning you personally are transforming outdated definitions of success and responsibility.