#bills get bored very easily

[irregularbillcipher]

going over old fic notes and outlines and character talks with friends and it's always really funny when i get to the stuff i was developing early-mid 2019 where bill just literally kept kryptos around to rag on, and he genuinely just. did not like the man. like was just completely annoyed with his general existence. boy have things changed

[citricacidprince]

Could you draw that "I trust you" scene with Mabel and Stan but with the relativity AU? (The stan twins and pine twins swap ages au)

OF COURSE, I WILL GLADLY DRAW THEM!!! 💥💥💥

I’m gonna post a long winded thesis about my thoughts on this AU, my take on the AU, and two additional arts under the cut because ooooh boy it’s a tad bit long lol. Also, please please forgive the formatting, I’m writing this all on the fly and it’s extremely disjointed, sorry- 💥

I know there’s the ‘canon’ Relativity AU designs and character dynamics, however I don’t really like them that much ngl. I feel like it mostly just ends up with ��Mabel and Dipper get switched with Stan and Ford with no nuances once so ever’ and that BLOWS!!! There’s so much potential there and no one is playing with it!! YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN HAVE MABEL PRETENDING TO BE DIPPER, WHATS THE POINT????

Not only that but I feel like making Dipper and Mabel’s dynamic just Ford and Stan’s when they’re adults is a HUGE simplification of their characters. Like, Mabel and Dipper fight, but they don’t fight like Stan and Ford, they’re not as hard headed and stubborn. Mabel would commit some crimes yes, but I don’t believe she would get into some of the heavy shit Stan had in his past. I refuse to believe Mr. Dipper ‘Undiagnosed Anxiety Disorder’ Pines would fall for Bill’s flattery as easily as Ford did.

The Pines Twins are very different from the Mystery Twins. Mabel and Dipper didn’t grow up with a father constantly comparing the two and pinning them against each other, outright telling one kid they’ll always be a failure while the other is going to have the burden of making their family rich. They never had that tension. They wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around eachother as adults.

I know that makes the concept sound boring to some, ‘Where’s the fun in the AU if you take away the sibling fighting’. You cowards, you can still have it, young Stan and Ford are RIGHT THERE. During the second half of the show when Dipper comes back through the portal, instead of having the older set of twins, something that doesn’t male sense with their characters, have a building tension that’s going to explode soon and keep it between Stan and Ford, don’t take it away from them. If anything, I think taking away the resentment and anger growing between the two and giving it to Mabel and Dipped is a butchering of all the characters.

Sure that means some of the episodes would have to change or be completely erased, but that’s fine!!! Make up some new ones!!! Get silly with it!!!

Mabel and Dipper talk about feelings, Stan and Ford don’t. Mabel and Dipper can’t stay mad at each other, Stan and Ford will try and stay mad for decades because being angry is easier than being upset.

In my idea of this AU that fight at the end of Weirdmageddon HAS to be between Stan and Ford, and Stan HAS to still be the one getting his memories erased.

💥 Post Not-What-He-Seems Relativity AU Rambling Below 💥

Dipper is a paranoid man, fool him once you’re never going to fool him again. He would never in a million years ever work with Bill again. Ford however is an extremely lonely child, both he and his brother are desperate for any type of positive attention. I think Bill would see him as a potential protege, especially since Ford is a ‘freak’ like he is and the kid is extremely smart for his age. He’s malleable, Bill probably thinks he could shape him uo to be the perfect lackey.

Ford, being the lonely kid he is, probably does fall for the praise initially. He craves attention and Bill pushes all the right buttons and says all the right words, tries and gains his trust even if time has proven again and again that he shouldn’t be trusting the demon.

The tension between the Stan Twins would grow after Grunkle Dipper comes back because Ford is upset that Stan didn’t listen to him (even if it was for the best that he did) and that Grunkle Dipper forgave Graunty Mabel so easily because if Ford was in those shoes he wouldn’t have. It grows more and more as Ford becomes distant and Stan tries to connect with his brother to no avail. Which, of course, comes to a boiling point when Ford says he’s going to stay in Gravity Falls and learn under Grunkle Dipper. Stan is rightfully upset. He can’t go back to New Jersey by himself. It’s always just been the two of them, he needed Ford, he couldn’t handle school or their father by himself. He can’t be alone.

Unlike Mabel who just wanted one more day of summer, Stan wishes that he wouldn’t be alone, which indirectly causes Weirdmaggendon.

Stan’s prison bubble would probably be a fake New Jersey-esc town full of a bunch of little Stans running around. Town O’ Stan. A place where no Stan is left behind.

Ford says some nice words to Stan there to get him outta there but there is still this intense tension between the two.

During the Cipher Wheel Ford is the one who tackles Stan. The two fight, whining out hurtful words neither of them mean and only stop when Bill shows up and captures them. Graunty Mabel and Grunkle Dipper run off and distract Cipher in hopes that they can keep the attention on themselves long enough that their great nephews could come up with a plan to escape.

The younger twins don’t find a way out and instead, finally, have an actual talk about their feelings, one that definitely ends up in tears as the two talk about the pressure that’s put on them or how worthless they feel. After that the boys get a rush of determination to escape when Stanley has a plan. Ford immediately hates the plan but Stan insists that they do it, in his own words, ‘Let me prove I can do something right for once.’

When Bill comes back and threatens to kill either Mabel or Dipper just for the hell of it, Ford calls out that he’d like to make a deal.

He wants to work with Bill, let Bill into his mind willingly. Bill immediately jumps on that offer. Ford is a promising young kid, perfect henchmaniac potential, not to mention it would absolutely devastate Dipper is his great nephew willingly turned to Bill’s side.

He goes into Ford’s head, revealing Stanley just in time to reveal that he was trapped, panicking as he was erased with a swift left-hook along with a kid who was happy to prove he was good for something after all.

Everyone was devastated after Weirdmaggedon of course, a child had his mind completely wiped. Stanford took it the worst, he just managed to finally break down those words that others built in his head, that he was too good for Stanley or that he didn’t need a knucklehead like him dumbing down his brain, and now his brother was gone. Just like that.

We all know what happens after this, Stan gets his memory back, everyone celebrates and the Stan twins are sent home, promising each other that they’ll never let anyone try and tear them apart ever again. Dipper and Mabel stay at the shack, after all, all they could ever want is there, where else could they possibly go?

Sorry this was… extremely rambly and long, I am extremely tired and can’t think straight I have a bunch more ideas and concepts so if anyone’s desperately wants to hear them just ask I guess, sorry you read this dumb of ass essay haha 💥

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Tim Drake was an obsessive creature by nature. Ever since he was little, he’d always been easily swallowed by his obsessions. His wants and desires, the little things that fascinated him. And, more than that, he never fought it. He gave himself into it, wholly. It was how he’d gotten this far in life.

He’d taught himself how to code, how to hack. He discovered Batman and Nightwing’s true identities. He’d learnt how to fight, how to keep the city safe, how to fling oneself off a building without fainting. He’s taped the family back together again and again after every splinter. He was one of only two Robins left, and that would soon be the only once Bruce retired and Damian graduated.

And this was all done through obsession. And it was obsession. He was self-aware enough to know that. While the rest of the family often indulged in delusions, he never had the time for them. He’d spent countless nights pushing his lagging body along with caffeine and sheer willpower. He’d often forget to sleep or eat even on the calmer days. All that was to say, Tim Drake was obsessive.

But, his obsessions never lasted. Sure, he’d keep the skills and the relationships he’d make, but when the dust settled, he’d find himself feeling empty. Tim Drake was obsessive yes, but his true obsession was the conquest. The rush he’d get when he finally claimed a new skill, a new person, a new piece of knowledge or wisdom.

And then, too quickly, far too quickly, the rush would disappear. The tingle in his spine would leave, the energy would disappear, and that feverish nature of his would flatten. Cool down. The others in the family knew it as one of his ‘moods’, but Tim thought it was probably more than that. Still, he was definitely in one of them right now.

It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered. The point was, right now, he was quite simply depressed. Bummed out, if you would. He’d finished a mission from Bruce, one that had taken him months of desperate, undying effort, and it was now done. And he didn’t have anything to do.

It sucked.

Boredom was a sinister demon. While Tim was by far the most emotionally stable of the family, he was still, well- not. Not by a long shot, honestly. The League’s mandatory therapy sessions had confirmed that. He just needed something to entertain himself, and quick. Usually, on a day like this, he’d be at home working on any random degree.

Unfortunately, he had responsibilities. He could not alleviate his boredom, because he was in the most boring place on earth.

A party. Not a party by any normal person’s standards, but one of his adoptive father’s galas. Even more horrifying, Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He was doing his billionaire playboy persona, and Tim couldn’t stomach it. It was no shock no one else had shown up. Even Dick was busy in Bludhaven, and he sometimes enjoyed these. Sometimes.

And once again, as every year, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.

Tim’s eyes rove over the very boring gala. Your gala, for your birthday. You weren’t here, because you never were. He couldn’t blame you. These balls sucked, even the better ones. This one was miserable, and the atmosphere was sombre. While it was your birthday, it was more than that, a day of death.

Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.

And Jason. Jason, who now walked the earth again, flesh and blood. Jason, who tore himself through a wooden coffin and grave dirt. Jason, who even Dick couldn’t seem to bring back into the family. Jason, alive and well and probably spending the night at Roy’s house. It was still the anniversary of his death, and while Jason did his best to put on a front, anyone with half a brain could tell he found today… upsetting.

But, he was alive. That was more than Tim could say for your family.

None of these people knew that. They saw one of the great Wayne’s dead, and they mourned. They saw the new wife and step-children of Bruce Wayne dead, and they lamented. Tim was sure most of it was faked, at least in this gala. The rest of the city truly grieved the Wayne family's tragedy. Especially Jason, one of the princes of the city. But here? No, they just wanted to rub shoulders with Bruce.

The man you very clearly insisted had never been your father, and never would be, was… probably a little sad. Tim was probably a little sadistically pleased about that. He was bored, alright? Anyway, Bruce did not know how to deal with you, and you with him. Both of you were stubborn people, unable to communicate or reach a place of cooperation. You never showed up to the galas or the manor, you did everything in your power to never have to interact with anyone from the family. The only reason you even still lived in Gotham was to be close to your dead family. And above all, you made sure that everyone knew how much you hated Bruce. That the sight of his aging face made you nauseous. Everyone else found that hilarious, of course.

And Bruce, because he was stubborn, kept trying to reach you, despite your angry protests. Even if he had absolutely zero legal ties to you, he still kept trying. And so, another birthday party passes without its leading star. The memorial tomorrow would be missing you too. Christmas, easter, hanukkah, new years, Rosh Hashanah, you refused to show up to any of them.

Still, he had to agree with Bruce. They couldn’t just leave you. Not with the way you were.

You’d once quietly admitted to him that you hoped you’d one day go to sleep and not wake up. That you’d rot away in your room, disappear from the world entirely. That was one of the last few times he talked to you face-to-face. And then a few months after that, you’d blocked him on all social media.

He’d read hundreds of books on therapy, and he knew what suicidal idealisation looked like. Luckily for his sanity, he was not your therapist, nor was he your keeper.

That was poor old Dick’s job, and he was, hilariously, failing at it. Badly. Technically, you were the second massive failure Dick had taken on, and it was starting to show in his mental state. Old Dickie was spending more and more time in Bludhaven, preferring to patrol there instead of Gotham. Still, he insisted he could get through to you. Tim was doubtful. Dick had better luck with Jason, of all people.

Jason actually wanted to be a part of this family. You hated them all, viciously. And so, you’d obviously never show up at-

Wait. Wait, no. He definitely recognised that face. Why the hell were you here? Well, that was irritating. Tim prided himself on being prepared for any situation, for any unlikelihood. He was the son who would be taking over Wayne Enterprises, after all.

You being in the same room as Bruce Wayne was impossible. Completely impossible. At least willingly. You should be kicking and screaming, scratching like a hellcat at anyone who tried to make you stay. Instead, you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, chugging back champagne like your life depends on it. He could already imagine the chaos the media would be starting, to his misery. ‘Estranged ex-Wayne shows up at birthday gala and drinks like a fish’. Well, he had been complaining about being bored. Careful what you wish for, and all.

Shit. He was not prepared for this.

He was, despite it being your birthday, not at all expecting you to be here. He didn’t even have a present. Shit. He pulls out his phone and shoots off an order to his assistant, who would probably go to Dick’s for help.

He sees you over there, obviously uncomfortable, and realises he should probably rescue you. He tells himself he should, that he’s gonna get up and go do it.

Instead, he crosses his legs at the ankle, leans back in his chair, and watches. You won’t catch him off guard twice. He has his pride, after all.

You throw another glass of champagne back. Tim winces. Okay, maybe you might. This was all a bit of a shock. And the rest of the gala seemed just as surprised at your appearance as he was. They obviously didn’t know what to do about you, creating a wide ring of people who refused to step closer to you. And you seem oblivious to the social pariah you have suddenly become. Or maybe uncaring, as you’ve already claimed an entire buffet table and champagne tray for yourself.

Just… just drinking. You seem to only care about ingesting more alcohol and confectionaries. It’s your twenty-first, but uh… this definitely doesn’t look like the first time you’ve been drinking. Not that he cared if this was your first time drinking. He’d done his fair share of illegal activities. Sure, they were mostly superhero stuff, but still illegal. Frankly, it’s kind of impressive. You might even be able to drink Jason or Alfred under the table.

…Good for you, he guesses. A talent’s a talent.

He realises, after a few minutes, that you have absolutely zero plans of socialising. You’d showed up here of your own free will, and then just scared off anyone who’d talk to you. Not that there’d be many who’d be interested in talking to the swaying woman who looked like a threat to herself and everyone around her. No, you were still just drinking. You’d gotten halfway down the buffet table, trying every single cake and a few of the savoury items as well.

You kept circling back to have more champagne and Victorian sponge, and then you’d go back to wherever you were in the buffet and try something from there. Your choices seemed sporadic, and more than once you spat something back out into a napkin. You look at some of the dishes like you think they might be poisonous, taking wide circles around them.

He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward to press his face to his intertwined fingers. He’s definitely past the point where he should go help you. You’re making a mess, both physically and socially, and yet, he still just sits there. He can’t help himself, it’s interesting.

“Tim.”

Uh oh, your knight in shining armor is here. Or well, dark. Bruce had never been known for pastels. Tim turns his head to the giant man blocking out the light, giving his father and leader a smile.

“Hey Dad,” he greets, in an open attempt at manipulation.

Bruce shakes his head, not caving begrudgingly like he usually did. Shit, that usually worked. Guess he must be actually mad. He glances from Tim to the object of Tim’s apt fascination. You. He turns back, looking down at Tim with his ‘I’m trying to be a good dad’ look. It’s not very convincing.

“How long has she been doing this?” Bruce asks, straight to the point as always.

“Twenty-seven minutes. You’re ruining my process,” Tim replies, telling B to screw off in the kindest way possible. He doesn’t take the hint, because he’s a bit of an ass. Even Batman fanboy Tim could recognise that.

“You can’t just count when someone is getting drunk in front of the public. You need to actually do something.” Bruce shakes his head, hand lifting to massage his brow. It was just that easy to give the old man a migraine. Poor baby probably needed some Ibruprofen. Tim had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to offer.

“I was going to eventually. And aren’t you curious? She refuses to show her face for months, and then pops out of the blue to… what? Steal from your liquor cabinet? She knows she doesn’t have to come to get whatever she wants,” Tim ignores B’s nagging, turning his gaze back to you. You’re having a love affair with that cake, honestly. Oh, you’re going for another shot… You do realise the stuff you’re chugging goes for millions, right?

You probably don’t care. You never had about money.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s here, and we should be taking care of her. This is obviously her reaching out for help, and she obviously needs it,” B insists, splaying his worn and scarred hands over the table. Tim has the same hands, everyone in the family does. Vigilante work left scars and callouses.

“Then why hasn’t she come over here, yet? My theory is she’s just trying to smear your good image. Which doesn’t need smearing in the first place, but who understands the minds of young, drunk and miserable women?” Certainly not Tim, as he had proven in his relationship with Stephanie.

“Tim, enough with the sass. Go and help her.”

“She’s not your responsibility anymore, B.”

“Her mother would disagree. Now go,” Bruce orders, his words final. Because they always are, in the end.

Tim groans, letting his head fall back. He glares at the ceiling and all the sparkling diamonds strewn about, and then he pulls himself to his feet. Cracks his shoulders, and parts the Red Sea with a glance. The crowd in the gala splits so the young heir can easily find his way through, and he gives everyone he passes a kind smile.

He strides up to your side, calmly waiting for you to notice him. You’re still imbibing, completely oblivious to his presence. It’s funny. And fascinating. Usually, you were so paranoid that he wondered how you weren’t always a single breath away from a panic attack. Like a feral animal, ready at a moment’s notice to fight or flight.

He sees that you’re dealing with those social anxieties in a way befitting the Wayne name. Which is to say, absolutely shit. His head tilts eyes flickering over you. You don’t look too good, which is no real surprise. Even with your people’s perfect styling, they can’t cover up the shaking and sweating in your form. It might just be anxiety, but knowing you, it’s probably not. He wonders if you even notice how sick you are.

You don’t look like you notice much of anything. Maybe the cake, but that seemed to be pushing it.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” Tim starts but is unable to continue when you spin on your heel and drop your flute of champagne. It crashes to the ground, and he finds his socks becoming uncomfortably wet.

The two of you look up from the mess and meet gazes. Your mouth is open in horror, eyes comically wide. Tim has to bite the inside of his lip so as not to immediately burst into laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, you do a weird crouch-pop-up movement, and then your eyes swivel around frantically, “I’m- am I supposed to clean this up? I can totally clean this up.”

You look just about ready to kneel into a pile of thin glass shards, so Tim stops you. Because God knows Bruce would hang him from the rafters if he didn’t.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Somebody else will handle this. It’s your birthday after all, right?” he says, giving you a charming smile. It’s sort of a shock when you don’t scoff at him, and instead just stand there with a deer-in-headlights sort of look.

“Hey, are you alright?” Tim asks when you don’t say anything else.

You startle, and then blink at him rapidly. Distracted and inebriated. Lovely. He doesn’t think you know what you’re doing here either, which was a bad sign for your mental health. Have you been refusing to go to your therapist again?

It wasn’t like he went either, so he couldn’t judge.

“I’m good,” you say, your words only slightly slurred. You blink again, your head cants towards the floor, and then you glance back up at him. You look like he’s caught you committing a crime. “Do you- uh, want some of the cake? Sorry for stealing it all, it’s really good.”

You were acting… really strange. Tim found himself with the undeniable urge to follow along with your strangeness.

“You know what? Yes, yes I would,” he says, taking one of the little plates of strawberry cake and a delicate three-tonged fork. He scoops up some of the cake, the cream and jam, and eats. Chewing he keeps staring at you, as you fidget awkwardly. It’s good, but all the food here’s good.

“Did you like it?” you try to smile at him, but it looks more like a grimace.

“I did. Javier did really well with these desserts,” Tim says, before waving over one of the staff to clean up the mess the two of you are ignoring. You look surprised when he offers an arm to guide you away, and he wonders if you’ll accept it. He can’t imagine a world where you would, but today seems to be full of surprises. In the end, you do, but it takes you a good five seconds of awkward staring before you take it.

He takes you over to one of the tables, careful to make sure you don’t slip and fall face-first into the spreading champagne puddle.

“Oh. Is he the chef?”

“He’s the pâtissier.”

You give him a blank stare. Right, you probably don't speak French.

“The pastry chef,” Tim clarifies, as he helps you find your chair. You slump down with zero grace, and for a second Tim thinks you’ll fall right off. You manage not to with a desperate grasp at the table. Good for you.

“Oh, cool. That’s super cool. I think I love this Javier guy, honestly.”

Tim snorts, taking his own seat, “He has that effect on people.”

You’re not looking at him, instead grimacing at the mess you made that two of the staff are cleaning up. Tim’s sort of surprised. It wasn’t that you had been particularly mean to the employees before, but you rarely acknowledged them. You had barely acknowledged anyone, completely unaware of your effect on the greater world. You didn’t care. To be fair, it didn’t seem like you cared about anything but your family’s gravestones and memorials.

Still, there was definitely something different about you, today. And he couldn’t blame it all on the alcohol. Today, you looked a little green about the whole accident. Like you actually gave a shit. Maybe you’d had a change of heart. He hoped you had, for Dick’s sake. You looked more alive, even if it was a confused, embarrassed, uncomfortable sort of alive. It was still an improvement. Usually, your expression was dead, a blank stare. It reminded him of Jason’s as he’d been lowered into the ground.

The two of you wouldn’t like that comparison. And it’s hypocritical too, Tim knows he sometimes resembles a zombie after one of his little sessions.

He can’t help himself. He’s curious, so damn curious. What had prompted this miraculous shift? And plus, you could still be planning something, even if it was seeming more and more like you’d stumbled in here drunk and confused, not able to remember you hated them all. Maybe you had a concussion or something. A head wound sounded like a good explanation for all this.

“Why’d you show up here today?” he finally asks, caving quickly to his need to understand.

You give him a weird look like he’s the one being strange.

“It’s my birthday.”

Tim tilts his head. “That it is.”

“Was that- that the wrong answer?”

“I don’t know, was it?” Tim knows he should stop playing with you. You’re making it far too easy, though. And he's bored, damn it.

“I don’t know either. That’s… that’s why I’m asking you.”

Before he can react to the strangeness of that comment some (awfully rudely, might he add) intrude on your conversation. One of the board members of W.E., someone he had to pay the proper respect to. When his hand slaps down on Tim’s shoulder, he has to suppress a withering sigh. There were less fun parts to his job, and this was one of them

“Drake! It’s so good to see you,” the old man greets, and it takes even Tim a second to remember his name.

“Lancaster! You as well,” Tim replies, noticing your barely there flinch.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you tonight. My project’s funds are running a little low, and everyone knows you’re the one to go to for an easier time. Bruce is a great leader but…” the man chuckles, and Tim grins at him. It’s fake, of course. When in Rome, they say.

“A bit strict, yes. I have struggled with his attitude before, too.” Understatement of the century.

Tim glances at your quiet form, eyes set on the tablecloth in front of you. Even still it’s obvious you’re listening to their conversation, head cocked just slightly to the right. The board member doesn’t even seem to notice you. Tim’s curious if he recognises you.

You’d been out of the public eye for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. That’s the way you’d wanted it to be, after all.

“But let’s talk about this later, I’m entertaining a very tipsy birthday girl at the moment,” Tim says, hoping you don’t mind him using you as an excuse.

“Oh wow!” Lancaster cries, at your mere presence. Subtlety is not this man’s strength, “I didn’t see you there. Wow, jeez. Didn’t think you’d be here today. What made you change your mind?”

You give him a long, assessing look. Whatever you find makes you pull an expression like you sucked on a sour lemon.

“My assistant forced me to,” you answer honestly. Seems you’ve realised that ‘it’s your birthday’ isn’t an adequate reason. Not that you’ve never failed to reject any and all pressure to attend these events before. Like Tim had said, kicking and screaming.

“Ha! I know the feeling. Well, I’ll leave you two kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” the old man chortles, gives you a wink, and leaves. Your gaze follows him into the crowd, and stays there, even when he disappears behind it.

It’s quiet for a moment. Tim waits for you to speak first.

“Who was that man?” you finally ask.

“Charles Lancaster, one of the newest board members of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim says, surprised you’re curious. You’d never been interested in W.E. or anything involving the family. Surprised, surprised, surprised. He should just accept any odd behaviour from you at this point, start expecting it.

You slump in your chair, pressing your forehead against the table. Then, you let out a long, unhappy, groan. Tim gets it, he really does. He does not get what you do next.

Your hands slap against your cheeks, and Tim jerks in his seat. Okay, maybe Bruce was right, you probably do need help. He couldn’t imagine the big guy sending you to Arkham, though. It was obvious you were only a threat to yourself. You take a deep breath, completely ignore his confused stare and get to your feet.

And you immediately fall sideways.

Tim’s arm shoots out, grabbing yours before you crash into the shining marble floors. You look down at him, mirroring his shocked expression. You look down further down, and Tim follows your gaze.

Your stilettoed heel looks the same as it always does. Still, you stare at it like it’s a shark biting at your toes. Tim thinks this is one of the first real emotions you’ve shown in months, and it’s desperate fear of your shoes.

“I told her I can’t wear heels,” you say, more to yourself than him.

“What? Yes, you can. You wear heels to all these events,” he replies anyway.

“What- Well, I meant… heels this tall. They’re really tall.”

He just blinks at you, at the inanity of your statement. They were really tall, but Tim had seen you wear taller. Why were you lying about something like this? Had you drunk too much and were too embarrassed to mention it? Or maybe you’d hurt yourself?

He looks down at your ankle again. No, the flesh seems unharmed. And you hadn’t been walking with a limp earlier, you were just stumbling around now. Must really just be too much champagne. You’d already dropped a glass earlier and had been obviously embarrassed by it. Even if Jeanine had swept in just like she was supposed to, fixing the situation. You’d apologised profusely.

He’d never heard you apologise before. It’s… well, it’s strange. That’s the only way he can describe this encounter.

“You can let go of me now. Please?”

Tim lets you go, and you rub your arm. Shit, he grabbed you too hard. He knew you were on the delicate side, wasting away both mentally and physically. You didn’t take care of yourself and rarely even left your apartment. Even now you looked oddly sickly.

“I’m going to uh- I have to go pee,” you say, and immediately wince at your words.

Tim, without thinking, replies, “Go piss girl.”

You make a shocked choke of laughter, nod at him, and then run off as fast as you can while grasping every piece of furniture in your reach. You look genuinely ridiculous. Well, it’s not the first time a Wayne gala has turned into a clown show. Compared to Dick’s younger years, this was completely unnoticeable.

Bruce still loved to complain about the chandelier he’d broken in an impromptu trapeze show. It’d been diamond, and over a hundred years old. The ones above him now were just as expensive, but not vintage. Jason thought it was hilariously funny, and was always trying to get Dick to do it again. Luckily, Dick had matured, if only a little bit.

Speaking of which, this is a perfect opportunity to mess with Dick. He pulls out his phone and the secure channel they use to communicate. Dick was in Bludhaven right now, probably on patrol. Doing something fun. Sure, tonight had gotten more interesting, but you’d just run off and with you his only entertainment. Tim was bitterly envious of Dick’s fun, and because of that, he had to make Dick just a little more miserable. Just to make things even, of course.

‘Smartest_Robin’: guess who just showed up to her own birthday party?

‘Underwear_guy’: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. why?

‘Smartest_Robin’: hell if I know. she’s drunk as hell lmao

‘Underwear_guy’: please don’t let her do anything stupid.

‘Smartest_Robin’: yeah, yeah. i’m the idiot who has to deal with the fallout anyway

‘Underwear_guy’: how’s it feel being the ‘favourite son’?

Tim snorts. The media often called him that, purely because it was well known he was the one inheriting W.E. It was hot gossip that it was Tim and not Damian, the proudly stated ‘blood son’. They didn’t know Damian was inheriting an even greater responsibility. And it wasn’t like he particularly wanted it, he just knew he was best for the job and it helped the time pass in between missions. It was fun sometimes, too. He enjoyed giving Luthor Corp a good thrashing every now and then.

‘Smartest_Robin’: same as always. im bored, anything interesting going on over there?

‘Underwear_guy’: bludhaven’s my city, dickhead. go do taxes or something

Tim sighs, and puts the phone back down. He had to try, at least. When it becomes obvious you are absolutely not returning from the bathrooms anytime soon, he gets up, adjusts his cuffs, and walks back off into the fray.

He greets and shakes hands, he takes photos and makes deals. It’s all a blur, really. He does it with half his attention, the other focused entirely on you. Amidst all this pomp and splendour an intriguing new mystery has been born. A puzzle to hold his attention, just for long enough till he gets to the next one. And your sudden shift in personality is more than enough. And if he focused on that, he could get through all this politics.

He’s talking up a chairman of a rival company when the lights go out. When the windows shatter inwards, his heart starts to race. And when familiar masked thugs break in through the wide open doors, guns up and ready, he’s already prepared for the fight. People start screaming, scrambling, and even more gunmen follow through the side exits. While guards raise their own firearms, everybody knows they’re completely outnumbered.

The Joker’s here, and he’s brought his army. Well, shit, all this excitement, and Tim left his suit upstairs. Guess he’ll have to improvise.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[dejabooooo]

The Anti-Pines family is utterly fascinating. We have the blueprint for an entire pseudo canon AU, and remarkably I have seen little input from the fandom in regards to it. I can’t imagine why because there is SO MUCH TO WORK WITH HERE.

Anti-Waddles being as nefarious as Anti-Mabel. “The first pig to ever go to jail for armed robbery.” Like 😭😭 imagine waddles standing upright and holding a tommy gun. Imagine no one in the bank their holding up taking them seriously because they’re an adorable little girl and a chubby pig, and mabel threatening to put a bullet between someone’s eyes like “u better cough up the bacon before this bacon smokes u.” I wanna see what other heinous atrocities the cutest crime duo in the multiverse get up to.

ANTI-SOOS BEING A FORBES BILLIONAIRE HOW AND WHY DID THIS HAPPEN

You’d think if Anti-Ford represents the opposite of Ford that you’d wind up with someone who is exceptionally normal and uninteresting but NOPE. Anti-Ford is easily the weirdest here. FUCKING??? YOUTUBER??? DJ?? A sixty-something year old man with 200 subscribers who posts about his dubstep set lists daily. Utterly baffling.

Anti-Stan and Anti-Dipper are the most understandable in terms of being complete opposites of their counterparts, but all of this makes me wonder how differently their stories would play out because of this. Anti-Mabel was “chased out of her dimension” for being so evil. How does her family feel about this? Are they trying to get her back? Does this bizarre cast embark on a comical and heartfelt journey to try and bring her home? A journey that ends in an emotional reunion? Perhaps one that Mabel fights as she clings to her indifferent, cold ideology while her family begs her to come home. All of them recollecting her horrible crimes with proportionately little exasperation and an abundance of fondness. Stan recounting when she stole all the money from a fundraiser he’d held so she could instead invest the funds into remodeling their entire house to have a monochrome minimalist decor. Ford reminiscing about the time she tried to use his channel to funnel money into a crypto/nft scheme. Dipper having countless stories. like how happy she’d make him when he’d get to skip school thanks to her (because she burned down the school, multiple times). About how she’d sabotaged pretty much all of his relationships, but it was a good thing in the end because it allowed him to realize that who he always really loved was that dorky socially awkward corduroy girl he hadn’t noticed at first. All of this retrospection from her family chipping away at her hardened heart and- phew, I'm getting carried away, but the possibilities, man! These characters could be so much more than a one time joke.

There is also the matter of Anti-Bill. “He is very boring.” Shut up??? Speak for urself, schmebulock, he sounds delightful. This is another character I believe you could expand in many interesting ways. I mean think about it, a being possessing the same caliber of bill’s omniscience and using it for good sounds amazing. Knowing all the beauty in all the universes and going out of his way to share it with weary minds through their dreams. Nullifying nightmares. What if he were a healing antidote to the mind, a medicine to bill’s mind unraveling madness? What if they knew each other?

Do you see my (delusional) vision here guys?

[just-a-toast]

Book Of Bill Spoilers‼️

Rant about Bill’s Original dimension

OKAY I REALLY NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS BECAUSE IT HASENT LEFT MY MIND

Bill’s world is COMPLETELY DOGSHIT AND OPPRESSED HIM IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE

We know that Bill’s world is very similar to Edwin Abbott’s Flatland, as said in the Bill Cipher AMA and the picture of flatland in the book if bill on the chapter cover of his origins.

So we can assume that the same laws and way of life that exists in flatland also apply to Bill’s dimension.

First of all, Bill could be canonically adopted.

Just to give a little background, in flatland, if a shape has a son (only men are shapes, women are lines) that shape gains one side. (A square has a son, it’s a pentagon and etc). Isosceles triangles that are deemed acceptable to have kids don’t follow this rule. The isosceles triangle would correct one of its angles by a half a degree, continuing until they become an equilateral triangle. This is their whole purpose so that they can eventually have a triangle start a new line of polygons that can make circles.

In Flatland, isosceles are deemed lower in society than polygons and are less educated than polygons. So once an isosceles triangle has a equilateral child, they are IMMEDIATELY TAKEN AWAY FROM THEIR FAMILY AND PUT WITH A POLYGON FAMILY SO THEY CAN BE INTEGRATED INTO A “NORMAL” SOCIETY AND NOT CORRUPTED BY THE ISOSCELES.

Not only is Bill’s existence really rare and takes a lot of time and generations, he is immediately taken away from his family and put in a family that are higher on the social latter than him. This could EASILY lead to his family not respecting him in any way. (Really proves what Hirsch said in one of his Q&A)

Another thing that royally fucks him over is his mutation to see the third dimension

He was born with mutation that if he even TALKED about it he would be EXECUTED. A square (the protagonist of Flatland) was only sent to jail for life but since Bill is a triangle he would have easily been executed, no questions asked. The flatland government loves executing people in the book. That’s like if a person was color blind and said the sky was grey they would be killed.

So Bill’s vision is illegal, he’s the lowest on the social chain, in a family that is higher socially and could easily discriminate against him. What else could his family do?

FORCEFULLY MEDICATE HIM WITHOUT HIM KNOWING.

Yeah on the silly straw page the codes tell us that Bill when he was younger was taken to the eye doctor by his family and got a sort of prescription that made the 3rd dimension go away. We don’t know how long he didn’t know but we can assume it was for a while.

“The Doctor says Three sips a day Will make the visions Go away”

“Eye doctor of a different kind Who wants to make his patient blind”

He was literally forced to be normal.

And to get off track a little, I understand that “make his patient go blind” means ‘blind from the truth’ but what if they actually tried to make him go blind so he couldn’t see the third dimension anymore?? DO YOU REALIZE HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS?? BILL IS BASICALLY THE GYPSY ROSE OF HIS UNIVERSE

Back on track we also need to talk about how Bill DESPISED being normal.

We know that Bill is a wild person, always looking to have fun, loves the weird things in life! But in his world, everyone hated things that were not socially acceptable. In his universe, his socially assigned purpose in life was to get a family and have kids. Like I said, everyone wants to have kids in his universe that eventually become circles (the highest on the social latter). Bill would NEVER want to have such a boring and meaningless life! For his only purpose was to continue a line of oppression and meaningless things like “social status”. But his world would probably force him to have kids or else throw him in jail.

Really explains why he said no one has a purpose, and that you can make your own, because he made his own.

Also his differences caused him to possibly get bullied in school. This is implied from his description of his pyrokenesis power

There’s a bunch of reasons why he would want to destroy his dimension, But from what we know, it was completely by accident. Now we don’t know if he was lying, but from his origins page and the other evidence we know that it was at least partially on accident or something that so out of control that it destroyed his whole dimension. He wanted to prove everyone wrong by showing them the beautiful stars he saw, but ended up killing them instead.

And he regrets it.

He had SO MANY reasons to hate his dimension and destroy it without a second thought, but he misses it, misses his family, his people. They haunt him.

None of this trauma excuses anything he does in the future, but the fact that he misses such a horrible place that treated him terribly to where he literally goes insane from guilt and self hatred is truly tragic.

If anyone has anything to add to the “shitty things that happened to Bill in his universe” feel free to add!

[mosaickiwi]

14DWY As a Drama AU

Hey remember when I said I’d post this in February oopsies!! (don’t ask me about demon!ren i will cry)

Open at your own risk this thing is LONG. Tried to give everyone at least a little something! upon putting this in my drafts i realized olivia exists i'll add her at some point uhhh. Also you can tell how much I love Elanor... hehe

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

The cult classic romantic thriller, 14 Days With You, is now a drama! Coming to all your favorite streaming platforms this summer. A whirlwind romance gone right and wrong that you DON’T want to miss.

Cast List

[REDACTED]

🖤 Quiet kid that used the after school theater program to delay returning home. Never wanted to perform, but loved doing costumes, make up, and correcting others (in his mind) on how to portray their roles. 

🖤 Spent a little extra time perfecting the costumes of a certain someone who didn't even know they existed. He always traded house chores with his sister so she'd sit in the audience to solely film Tree #2's performance.

🖤 Was an apprentice special effects makeup artist after graduation at first, particularly for horror films, but it didn't exactly pay the bills when they left home.

🖤 Easily rose to the top in their acting career due to his dedication for crafting characters to perfection. 

🖤 Dolly Parton/Lady Gaga-esque in their separation of work and life—completely unrecognizable in their regular civilian attire. Paparazzi have never gotten a picture of them in all their years trying.

🖤 Has zero issues getting into character, but does "method acting" on occasion to make sure people leave them alone on set. And also to fuck with directors and producers they don't like. Notoriously difficult to work with because of it + their overall attitude towards others, still gets hired somehow.

🖤 Got offered the role as the main love interest in 14DWY without an audition, thanks to a previous manipulative pink haired character he played in a film that ended up never being released. (2017 Ren because it's funny)

 Angel (you!)

💜 Participated in the same after school theater program as [REDACTED] and Leon for a few semesters before you got bored of it. Curiosity for acting resurfaced later in life.

💜 Newbie actor at the recently formed talent agency of your friend. Only starred as non-speaking roles or background characters in small productions until the drama. You moved back to Corland Bay after uni for the better industry prospects.

💜 You initially auditioned for a very small role in the drama as an employee in a seaside shop at first, but somehow you wound up as the lead? (un)lucky you.

💜 Feel free to fill in the blank for any whys and hows you think of to fit your OC/self/sona as you so please <3

Elanor

💖 Normally an actress and casting director, first time as an executive producer for the drama. Dreams of bringing her own romantic screenplays to life. Hasn't quite proven herself the way she wants in the industry to feel confident enough in them. 

💖 Catalyst for the drama being made. A "friend" mistakenly recommended the 14DWY book to her. She absolutely loathes all the psychological horror of it but sees the potential it has.

💖 Also the reason [REDACTED] was immediately cast, and you as well once she saw your chemistry with him while reading for a minor role. He hadn't shown a fraction of as much interest when reading lines with other potential candidates, so she decided to take the risk of an untested talent as the headliner.

💖 Refuses to use her family's name to get her stuff made. She wants her works to speak for themselves. Very picky about who she works with due to her family having hands in most of Corland's entertainment industry so she hardly gets a genuine interaction beyond ass-kissing.

💖 Always partial to working with Conan's small studio since he was the only director to give her any sort of criticism in spite of her family, as gentle and polite as it was. She still cried a little in the dressing room though.

💖 Genuine confusion when Conan wants her to act as both a producer and assist with direction. She only intended to bring it to his interest. But how could she say no to someone whose judgment and opinion she respects so much?

Conan

💖 Runs and owns a small scale studio in the Bay that seems to pick and choose its productions at random. It is in fact Alice sneaking into her dad's home office and putting scented stickers on the ones she likes. (She only reads the titles)

💖 Extremely proud of Elanor for getting so far on her own, and would take on one of her dozens of scripts no questions asked if she'd only work up the courage to show him one. So imagine his surprise when she comes to him with a romantic horror instead of one of the fairy tale romances he sees her scribbling notes on during breaks.

💖 While he’s the one with the final say, he does try to let Elanor have as much free reign as possible on the project in the hopes to boost her confidence.

Kiara

💖 A super-star actress and model that got her start in Corland’s local industry, but quickly hit it big. 

💖 When she isn’t drowning in work, she’ll swing through town to check in on her sister.

💖 Desperately wants to star in one of Elanor’s productions, but respects her sister’s desire for independence. Though she does like to tease about certain casting decisions on the drama when made aware of them.

the rest of the cast are unfortunately very silly i couldn't resist

Moth

💖 Started a talent agency out of spite for the terrible castings in their favorite media. Got further invested upon realizing they could read the scripts before the movies or show adaptations were even announced.

💖 The one who pushed you to audition for a minor role in the production once the rumor about who was cast as the main love interest reaches them. They've heard all the horror stories about [REDACTED] so wanted the inside scoop. Horrified and fascinated to find out you get the lead role. It’s like watching a train wreck.

Leon

💖 Joined the theater program initially because of you, but got really into it. Moved away to attend a performing arts school until his mother got sick.

💖 Took every wacky infomercial or street performance gig he could find to pay the hospital bills until Teo found out and swooped in.

💖 Eternally grateful for the burden of financial ruin being relieved, so he always accepts the jobs Teo gets for him. He definitely won’t complain since he’s not dressed in an animal costume and shouting nonsensical slogans for cleaning products.

Teo

💖 Met Leon through a shared production and quickly bonded. Attended a different performing arts school and met Jae as a child.

💖 Almost the exact opposite of his game character purely for the funnies. Shy, introverted, can’t flirt to save his life. Still a nepo baby but he can hold his own in acting. Doesn’t like his character much, but is extremely jealous of the confidence he oozes.

💖 Leon and Jae are his only friends in the industry so he uses his sway to get them parts if they haven't already gotten a call back. Gets REALLY nervous on set for certain roles so he needs their support.

Jae

💖 Attended the same school as Teo when they were kids, and is constantly pitching intentionally bad ideas and joking on set to reassure his friend.

💖 A little bit of a thrill seeker, so does all his own small stunts if he thinks he’s capable. Stands there and gawks watching the more extreme stunts, loudest to clap when they go well.

💖 Kept bringing Maple to the shoots cause how could he even think about leaving her at home? She would occasionally break her leash and wander into a scene for head scratches and kisses. The film crew always booed when a PA came to take her off set.

Violet

💖 Completely terrible at caring for plants. Inspired by her role, she starts vlogging about her plant mom journey before shooting even begins. All her advice is completely wrong and terrible. Her personal assistant keeps her in the dark by tending to the plants themselves to fix her mistakes.

💖 Finds out she has a talent for flower arrangement, though. Does thank you vases for the cast and crew on all her future productions that last a lifetime because her PA made sure all the flowers were fake.

Exposition

(silly on set shenanigans)

🎬 Scenes get retaken quite a bit, since you’re still extremely new to it all. Most of the cast and crew expect anger out of [REDACTED] after the 4th call for a re-shoot on the first day’s library scene, but he’s surprisingly cracking jokes about his dye job and reassuring you that you’re doing great. The infamously ill-tempered actor is smiling somehow… even being patient? Not glaring down his co-star for minor slip ups? They cannot recognize this person.

🎬 Violet and [REDACTED] naturally butt heads on set. She respects their acting, not the actor. Zero hesitation to snap back if he’s getting snarky with a PA. You’re the one people have to beg to separate them, and you’re completely baffled that [REDACTED] doesn’t treat others as nicely as he treats you.

🎬 Even though Elanor is a nervous wreck about the first real thing to ultimately make or break her career, she’s scarily efficient on set—as long as no one distracts her. She does get sidetracked once in a while, only because she loves chatting and answering any questions the cast or crew might have. She even brings one of her own cats to set during a slower day to see if they can get along with Maple. Leaves Conan in charge when the horror scenes are being shot. They’re both put off by how vivid they feel, but Conan at least can grin and bear it. 

🎬 You and Leon manage to catch up on set while [REDACTED] is otherwise occupied shooting said horror scenes. You tease him about a few infomercials you saw when looking up his actor reel, and Leon teases you back about your unlucky streak of being a tree or a rock in every play the theater program put on when y’all were younger. Laughs even harder once he finds out your most prominent roles until then were “unnamed zombie #5 at the bottom of the pile” and “sleeping train passenger.”

🎬 Try as he might, [REDACTED] doesn’t convince Elanor to change up a few crucial parts of the script for his benefit. His offhand threats of leaving the production fall on deaf ears, as she is all too happy to do re-shoots to make Teo the lead. His innocent hints to you about the shoddy script fly over your head for some reason! You love how it's turning out, what does he mean?

🎬 Super shy Teo prefaces and warns his co-stars before acting in every scene of his character being excessively flirty. Most of the actors have worked with him at some point or another beforehand, so they let him go through his routine without issue. Some crew members love the whiplash of him switching between overly courteous and smarmy, others vastly prefer the flirty character and mourn the loss as production comes to a close.

The Build Up

📺 The higher ups pressure Violet to start a short-lived streaming career to boost interest, since she’s hopeless with plants. She amasses a cult following for her MMO reviews, blind raids on new patches, and her wild ride of a Minecraft playthrough. In the end she winds up preferring to play games off stream, but once in a blue moon she’ll do a first time raid stream so her more dedicated fans can join and watch her alliance get wiped. Creative trolling is highly encouraged.

📺 Teo, Jae, and Leon appear on a late night TV show for promotion. It was meant to be for Teo and [REDACTED] at first. (Where’s the leading lover? [REDACTED] refused all promo appearances or sit downs without you being involved in them.) The host plays a clip that Teo’s particularly embarrassed about, and he hides his face in shame when the crowd hoots and hollers praise about his portrayal.

📺 [REDACTED] comes across as doting and overprotective of you once you’re pushed into the spotlight of celebrity, and shows increasingly concerning behaviors as the premiere looms closer. Depending on your response, they’ll back off to a point or dial it up. Interviewers and consumers mistake it as the eccentric actor’s “method acting” so the red flags just slide right past.

📺 Elanor and Conan guest star in a podcast for off-the-cuff romance enthusiasts. Their strangely cagey and joking comments like “there were so many retakes we couldn’t keep track of what was meant to be the actors messing around or part of the final cuts,” and “we’ve actually sent all the reviewers 1 of 14 versions with completely different endings,” leave listeners all the more curious to see the film.

The Climax

🎉 Reception is huge, in good ways for most. The majority of the cast see a surge in popularity if they didn’t already from the hype. 

🎉 Teo bemoans his endless offerings for sarcastic pretty boy jobs, Leon makes enough to get picky about his roles (and pay Teo back), Jae somehow cons a studio into an action film starring Maple—and subsequently adopts every single one of her stunt doubles. 

🎉 Moth throws the agency away to start adapting anime and manga themselves. Elanor finally feels validated enough to bring one of her romantic screenplays to the big screen, starring her sister Kiara and a very enthusiastic Violet as the leading couple. 

🎉 Conan’s studio is overloaded with scripts, and Alice runs out of scented stickers that much quicker. They are severely backlogged send help.

🎉 One determined conspiracy theorist sets out to prove those missing 13 versions of the ending are real, based on minor cuts and inconsistencies purposefully left in the public release.

The End, Roll Credits

choose your own ending

Bad End 💔 - A Falling Star

💔 If you respond negatively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor during shoots and promo: he plays the waiting game, uses his connections and blackmail to make sure all your roles without his name attached don’t garner nearly as much attention as the ones where you’re co-stars.

💔 Your negotiating power quickly plummets as you fall out of demand and end up begging just for the non-speaking roles you once loathed.

💔 The careers of anyone you got close to on set fall apart much faster than yours, before they’re outright blacklisted in the industry.

💔 You begrudgingly call up your last option. He can’t do much for your friends, but their offer to help you make a comeback is always open.

Neutral End 💌 - Just One More Try

💌 If you respond indifferently to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: the drama leads to you getting more offers, though a handful are for playing opposite of [REDACTED], as the on-screen chemistry was too much for studios to ignore for cash grabs.

💌 Elanor has rid herself of the drama’s subsequent rights, despite positive reception, so a sequel sprouts up in the works at a different studio. One that doesn’t mind catering to the whims of their actors when it comes to script integrity.

💌 You arrive on the set to find that not just one, but all of your cast mates except for them were written to have much smaller parts in the sequel. In fact, you rarely find a scene in the revised script where [REDACTED] isn’t alongside you.

💌 Sadly the contract is air tight, just put up with it until it’s over… What’s this clause about further sequels?

Good End 💍 - Off Into the Sunset

💍 If you respond positively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: you’ll sadly announce at the post premiere press conference that acting was a one-and-done adventure for you. Retired effective immediately, no farewell interviews.

💍 You’re spotted around town for a few weeks in a mask with a tall, darkly dressed companion at your side before you disappear from the public eye and Corland Bay all together.

💍 A few of your friends at least have an idea of where you are, and they meet up with you whenever you're in a nearby city. None of them can recognize the man glued to your side, though. Not that he'd say anything to clue them in.

💍 After months of near inactivity, [REDACTED] mysteriously deletes their socials without a word, sparking confusion and outrage among hardcore fans still desperately hoping for a sequel.

[bl4ckros3s]

how I feel about gravity falls ships (pines twins edition)!:

younger pines twins:

dipper x pacifica: I love this ship so much!!! They complete each other!!! Practically canon.

mabel x pacifica: they would be the best sugar and salt couple ever!! Love this!!!

mabel x gideon: nope. Gideon is too manipulative and pushy and doesn’t match her, but I am curious about someone that would like gideon and gideon would like them back.

dipper x wendy: if dipper were the same age as wendy then obviously, but if he isn’t, then it’s a no.

dipper x bill: I literally gagged writing that. No way. Even though dipper is like ford in several, he can’t be swayed as easily as him and has a problem trusting people he’s just met. And bill would literally appear out of nowhere in his dreams. He’d call bs to that.

dipper x mabel: 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ get the hell away from me. Ur ass don’t deserve this show😡

older pines twins edition:

ford x bill: YESSSSS. A HUNDRED PERCENT YESSSS. NO ONE WILL EVER BE ABLE TO SWAY ME INTO THINKING ANYTHING ELSE. THEY WERE TOGETHER. THEY BELONG TOGETHER. IT IS CANON.

ford x fiddleford: they would be the cutest couple ever. Forehead kisses and holding hands and talking about being nerds together. Such couple goals💕💕

stan x fiddleford: bonded over a egotistical and self centered ford who treated them badly. Can one hundred percent see this happening after ford was thrown into the portal.

stan x bill: it wouldn’t work out. They’re both con artists and can see through each other’s tricks. But that could also be something that they bond over so I kinda don’t know…..

bonus: I’m a fan of toh and gf, so stan x eda. It would be fuckin hilarious if eda was the woman that stan married in Vegas. They would definitely bond platonically now because they both got a chance to be someone’s parental figure. They’re both big softies in the heart and willing to do anything to protect their families. But just me, if I got someone as hot as eda, she won’t be able to get rid of me…. Rose x eda forever…

I felt like writing an essay because well—I’m very bored and enjoy procrastinating.

[drdemonprince]

ok big question as someone looking at ENM, which my partner has also expressed interest in. I know myself to have too little spoons to be aware of more than one person at a time. I dread that pursuing someone else, even if just for a night, takes away resources from me that would make my main partner feel neglected. That and the general idea of neglecting to work on the relationship when there's a whole array of companions ready to serve a good time w/ no deeper work involved. What would you consider an ideal way to negotiate with these feelings?

You're touching on something that I've been wanting a word for for some time.

In nonmonogamy circles (I will not use the term ENM, because categorically declaring yourself to be ethical to be seems like a huge barrier to recognizing the ways in which you are not), there is much talk of jealousy -- the feeling that one's partner is not giving them enough attention and love. But there's comparatively little talk about the guilt one can feel about not giving enough love and attention to one's partner. That troubling sense that you are not showing up enough for everybody, that you are in some sense leaving a long-term partner behind.

I suffer from this guilt more than jealousy, much of the time. I find that I cannot be emotionally available to any kind of new partner because my heart is lingering in another room, waiting and longing for the partner I'm already attached to, and i'm anxious to dash off and get back to them as soon as I can, to make sure they feel cared for and to ensure I don't lose them. This happens even when I have a primary partner who fully does not mind that I'm off with somebody else, and does not feel insecure or jealous. I'm still intensely attached and anxious to reinforce that attachment. I have a horny slutty body, but a monogamous heart.

I think you may find, if you pursue nonmonogamy, that your attachment to your partner means a lot to you and quite difficult for a new relationship to replicate. Though the thrill of a new relationship or sexual encounter can certainly pull one's focus, most of the people you'll hook up or try dating won't share that spark with you that you share with your partner, and regardless, you won't have the shared history or bond there.

Other people won't be "easy" either -- they will come with their own host of traumas, insecurities, expectations, annoying quirks, hangnails and bad breath and baggage from their exes. It's true that some nonmonogamous people use new partners to try and fill what holes they perceive in their own lives, but they always fail if that is their outlook, because humans aren't an easily expended resource, they're a source of pain and annoying complexity just as much as delight.

Sometimes dating new people makes you aware of just how aligned you and your partner are on a variety of domestic life issues and long-term plans. Other times, yes, some long-neglected corner of yourself is rekindled by a new person and it's thrilling and you do feel called to open up more space in your days for them. And that can be tough, but it's also fine. But I generally wouldn't head into nonmonogamy with the expectation that it's going to be all fun and effortless sex with a cadre of available strangers. No, it's gonna be a fuckin pain in the ass, as all human relationships must be -- lots of tedious negotiations, awkward stumblings over who is going to pay the bill at dinner, farts in the bed, tantrums, bored moments watching some movie they love but you hate, cute chit-chat while petting their cats, and just all the other mundane stuff that makes a life.

And you gotta be ready to treat the new people you are dating like full people, too, by the way -- not see them as either a looming threat to your other relationship that you must steel yourself against, or as an ever-flowing river of pleasure that you think you're gonna drown in. Both those outlooks can become very dehumanizing, and I have often seen that when a couple opens up their relationship, it is their *new* partners who get overlooked and shafted and treated like shit, not their existing long-term partner. So that's something to be really aware of too, I think -- remember that you are getting to know a whole person and there are a lot of responsibilities that come with that, if it's anything other than an anonymous cruising hookup.

[thicctails]

curious about Bill's relationships with the twins in gbc

Bill is the twins' very reluctant, pissy, shithead older brother. At first, his ass is NOT conversing with them, because he's butthurt and jealous that he has to share his parents now that he knows they're alive, and he certainly doesn't consider them family (more like bothersome strays his parents picked up), but he's also smart enough to not hurt/torment them.

Eventually, though, Dipper and Mabel start to claw back his walls and nestle their way into his heart-equivalent organ, like the preteen parasites they are.

Individual twin stuff below!

Dipper: 🌲❔⭐

He likes picking on Dipper more, because the kid is easy to rile up, what with his anxiety and embarassing crush on Wendy. Bill looks at Dipper and sees a smaller, sweatier Sixer, complete with his own (and in Bill's opinion, better) abnormality.

However, where Ford was selfish and willing to give Bill everything and anything for answers, soaking up praise like a sponge, Dipper is far less susceptible to Bill's bullshit, and will actually give him sass. Bill gave Stan a nightmare once early on, and Dipper got so mad that he pulled out Bill's full, legal name and cursed him out in Euclydiean. He's seen Scalene's drawings of Bill as a baby in his comically large shoes, and thus is not at all afraid of him.

Bill, a creature that lives in the NIGHTMARE REALM, is wholly unused to this. It's weird and different, but it's not... Bad. As they get closer, Bill finds that Dipper is more than just the awkward potential puppet that he initially thought he was. He's got a good moral compass, yes, but it wavers now and then, and Pinetree is more than willing to do mean, vindictive things with Bill if someone crosses his family.

While Mabel got her Unicorn adventure with Bill as her first big bonding moment, Dipper's comes when he gets knocked unconscious during his encounter with Gideon's robot. Bill appears to Dipper and offers to wake him up and help him save Mabel, if Dipper is willing to let him possess his body. Now, Bill knows he's desperate, and could have easily added the condition that he gets to keep Dipper's body, or simply just not held up his end of the deal, but he doesn't. When Dipper awakes, he's bruised and sore, and his knuckles are covered in drying blood, but he is himself, and Mabel is safe, grinning at him as she grapples them down to the ground.

After that, Bill starts to casually hang around a lot more, usually by possessing Gompers or one of Mabel's stuffed animals. When Dipper starts to dress up again, Bill makes him a set of star earrings. Now, they are made out of teeth, but it's dragon teeth this time!

Mabel: 🌠💓💥

Bill bonds with Mabel much faster, because it's easier for him to relate to her! Mabel is flashy, chaotic, and unapologetic, and Bill loves that! Usually, humans are very predictable and have boring Dreamscapes, but not Mabel. She changes gears faster than a Mantis shrimp punches, and her antics are way more amusing than anything Ford did.

He 100% enables her crazy plans. She wants to set off fireworks for Waddle and Gompers' wedding? Stan keeps the good stuff under his bed. She's making Dipper a special jug of Mabel Juice? Here kid, have some Smile Dip Ultra! (See you in the astral plane, Pinetree!) Cops are trying to send you to Washington for uncovering a government secret? RUN THEM OVER WITH A CAR!

...okay she doesn't listen on that last one, but you get the idea.

His absolute favorite moment with her was watching her punch Celestabellebethabelle's snout until it looked like a gnome threw up on it. He, at that time, was busy suffocating a Satyr with his plushie Unicorn form, but he was sure to give her plenty of praise.

He was surprised at the warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed when she grinned at him, rainbow blood splattered on her cheek. Hmm. Had he eaten something recently and not chewed it enough? Maybe he was getting sick or something equally stupid. Surely he was not experiencing... Emotions. Ew.

Mabel bedazzles his bowtie for him. She is the only being aside from his parents who have touched his accessories and lived.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

An Undeserved Punishment

pairing: hyunjin x reader

warnings: dom reader, sub hyunjin, dumbification (kinda?), objectification (again, kinda?), oral sex (both the reader and jinnie receiving, the reader's gender isn't specified at all), jinnie's called puppy a few times, jealousy,

wc: 5k

a/n: this was literally one of the first fics that i ever wrote that i found half-done in my drafts, kinda rewrote, kinda just finished it-do with that information what you will~

It’s been a little under a week since Hyunjin has last cum.

A little under a week because of loads of things.

Because you’ve been busy with work. Because he’s been busy with work. Because neither of you have just had time and whenever you did, it seemed that you were never really in the right mood: wanting to spend quality time with him and cuddle and coddle him-with clothes on.

And he supposed he could respect that.

But only because he loved you.

He hadn’t cum in a few weeks because of those things. Normal things, y’know?

Oh, and there was also one more tiny little reason, that wasn’t all that important. Because Hyunjin had apologized and felt bad and grovelled, and well, he still got a punishment out of it-but it wasn’t a huge deal.

No, of course not.

It had a little to do with a few things. Y’know, tons of things, loads of things he could barely control, that honestly didn’t deserve this kind of punishment. 

Y'know, you were in a bad mood when you gave him this sort of punishment because now you’d surely be level-headed enough to realize that really, he didn’t deserve this.

Surely, you’d been more angry than normal because you were pent up too, after not getting to ruin your pretty little good boy after so long, or maybe it was that asshole at work that you’d complained about a few times, or maybe you were just stressed.

Or maybe it was because of you, a small voice in his head that sounded eerily similar to you reminded him, of exactly what he did to get in his situation.

How you’d invited him to an important work event, with a bunch of important executives and other people, it was all a snooze, really. 

Boring old people that could drop a thousand dollar bill on the floor and not be bothered to pick it up; rich assholes with sticks up their asses and snotty looks on their faces, somehow thinking that they deserved to look you up and down like you were a piece of meat and not someone with a heart and feelings and a high enough position that could probably fire them.

There was also your stupid boss that kept pulling you away from Hyunjin, glaring at him as if he were the dirt under his ridiculously expensive shoes.

All in all, Hyunjin had millions of reasons to act out.

But you’d told him to behave, to be respectful because your boss was there and a few other higher ups that weren’t very many but could essentially could ruin your whole career and that were all easily offended enough to do it with the slightest thing not to their standard.

And yes, of course he cared about all of those things-of course he did, how could he not? Your career was greatly important to you. And if something was important to you, it was absolutely important to him.

But…wasn’t he important to you too?

Your sweet, pretty, perfect boy? Your Jinnie?

Wasn’t he important to you?

Because on that very day, when he was getting out of the shower-the one that he was taking for your very super special job event, you’d teased him and by doing that-I mean, you were just asking for him to act out at this thing.

He’d come out of the bathroom, steam rising out of the doorframe, a towel hanging haphazardly and low on his hips, you seemingly couldn’t control yourself.

So really, who’s fault was it really?

Your's Hyunjin, that annoying little voice reminded him once again.

You’d eyed him up and down, nearly drooling at the sight of him, hands aching to touch him; after all-it had been so long, hadn’t it? 

How were you supposed to keep your hands off him?

When he came out of that bathroom looking so very, very sexy? Water dripping from his hair and down his lithe body. His smooth skin just begging to be marked and claimed by you and that damn towel. 

Jesus Christ, that towel.

Really, how were you supposed resist?

And he certainly wasn’t complaining as he was shoved down onto your bed, your tongue already down his throat, hands already pushing away that towel by the time his body hit the mattress.

You heard no protests.

Not a single peep, only muffled groans and needy whines between kisses, egging you on further to run your hands all over his body, relishing in the way he shivered and moaned so wantonly, so desperately.

You’d kissed him breathless, kissed him raw and deep and hard, like you were starved and he was salvation. 

You kissed him until his breath ran out and yours did too and he began to feel lightheaded.

His lungs screamed for air as he panted, trying to catch up with his thrumming heart until he jolted at the feel of your lips on his chest.

“Lay back baby, let me take care of you,” was all you said, trailing lower and lower down his abdomen, tracing a trail of water that had made its way all the way down. 

Lower and lower still, licking over his v-line, smirking as his hands came to grasp at your hair-not controlling-you’d never allow that but simply resting against your scalp.

He’d whimpered and writhed, begged for more-for anything more as you swirled your tongue around his tip, hand pumping along the base of his dick.

“Such a needy little thing for me, aren’t you, baby?”

Yes, he wanted to scream. Yes, for you. 

His tongue numb in his mouth, his hands frozen and tense, trying their very best not to shove his cock down your throat.

You’d looked up at him with such a tantalizing look in your eye, promising pleasure or pain or a little bit of both that he would gladly welcome in return for your touch.

Your smile was sly as you took him into your mouth again and again, pulling off right as he was on the brink, driving him certifiably and definitely, maddeningly insane.

“Aww, you’re so cute. So adorable when you’re all dumb for me.”

As per your words, he’d nodded dumbly, how could he not? Because really, in the end, that’s all he was. All he wanted to be. Only a little thing that got so hot and bother by being dumbed down to little more than a mindless toy for you.

Only a slave to the pleasure. An obedient little dog to the commands, chasing and performing and granting every order and whisper for the chance at a treat.

While his hands twitched in your hair, while his dick throbbed in your mouth, while only an endless stream on moans and pleads fell from his mouth.

“So close, p-please, ah! So-so fucking cl-close.”

“Don-don’t stop, pl-please don’t stop, nngh!”

And what had you done?

Stopped.

“W-why?” 

You’d only smiled, so sweetly, so cruelly, crooning about how cute he was all blushy and red. 

Then you’d gotten up and patted his bare chest, thumb swiping over his nipple too teasingly, lingering for a touch too long for it to be anything but purposeful.

He whimpered, trying to push up into your touch, maybe entice you to stay for just a little bit longer…just enough longer for him to cum and you to cum and perhaps a quick round two?

You hadn’t risen to the bait though, in fact, his neediness just seemed to make you more eager to deny him.

Reaching down and grabbing the towel that you had thrown there, picking it up and tossing it over his chest before crossing the room, feeling his gaze on your back all the while.

He pouted as you had found your place back at your vanity, assessing yourself in the mirror like you hadn’t almost just made him come in your mouth.

“We’re leaving in a half hour Jinnie,” Your eyes had trailed over his bare body in the mirror, eyes darkening for a moment as you practically devoured every inch of skin before just as quickly looking away, messing with your hair a little, making sure every strand misplaced in your endeavour had been fixed back into place. “So I suggest that you start getting ready.”

Hyunjin was hard and needy still throbbing for your touch, certainly less than excited to go to this event. Less than excited to have to tolerate a bunch of egotistical assholes that acted as if they were better than him.

“But-“

“-Hyunjin.” The bratty whine in his tone hardened the last of the lust that was in your eyes, leaving behind a kind of sterness that only made him twitch and bite back the moan ready on his lips. 

“Get ready.” You’d turned and walked back over to him, allowing him the last of your kindness with a gentle touch to his face, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead. “And be a good boy tonight.” You moved on just as quickly, passing him on to go into the bathroom. “Be a good boy and perhaps I’ll give you a treat tonight, okay baby?”

—-

In some world, your words, your promise might’ve been enough for him to adhere to what you told him to do. To be a good boy.

In some world knowing that if he was good, you’d reward him for it later on. Just a little puppy eager at the chance-oh it was almost enough for him to listen. For him to behave.

But he can’t help it. Can’t help the want pooling deep in his tummy, the need to let you have your way with him just as you were doing before. He didn’t care at this point anymore. 

You could edge him for hours, overstimulate him to tears, tie him up and tell him what a bad mutt he was. As long as you’d look at him with that dark predatory look in your eye, as long as you’d coo at him as if he were nothing more than a dumb puppy.

Anything at this point could satiate him.

And he had a growing problem underneath his fancy dress pants, steadily making things such as even sitting here even harder.

“Hyunjin.”

You voice snapped him out of it, looking up and out the window of the car to see that you were there. 

Already? So soon?

His eyes flickered to the time, seeing that you were fairly early, technically speaking, you didn’t have to be there for at least another half hour before you’d be seen as tardy.

“Ca-“

“Nope.” You cut him off before he could even finish the word, seeming to somehow read his mind.

“Bu-“

“Hyunjin. I said no.” Your voice was stern as you assessed your reflection in the mirror one last time, leaving any possibility until after the party only a fantasy he’d replay over and over to keep him sane throughout the night.

One of the things Hyunjin has always loved about you was how you were able to keep up with him, even maybe surpass him with your sexual desires, able to take everything he gave in stride and give some of your own as well.

Most often you were open to anything he wanted to do, seeing most things as ‘you only live once, might as well make the most of it.’ And you’d never before had any issues doing anything risky regarding the publicity of the act but he could tell you were serious this time.

If only you putting your foot down, talking to him in such a steely manner didn’t make him twitch in his pants.

“Okay.” You finally pushed your hair back, looking to him. “You ready?”

—-

No.

He wasn't ready.

He was anything but ready to be here. Around these people, shifting uncomfortably under the heavy weight of their judging gazes.

They all thought they were better than him, he knew. It was impossible not to know. Impossible to ignore with way they scrutinized him and looked him over, over his expensive clothes he bought with your money-with their boss’s money.

Hyunjin knew they were criticizing him, the way his posture was slightly slouched, the way his hair was windswept and messy because he’d decided to stick his head out the car window on the way over, wanting to feel the cool air glide over his face.

He hated this place. Hated these people.

Hated whatever image of him they had in their mind and wished that they would look at him as if he were actually a person or at least not look at him at all.

But this was for you. For the job that you loved, that you’d tell him about at the end of the day with a spark in your eye, for the pride at the work that you did. 

It was important to you. And if it was important to you, then it was important to him.

Even if he did want to rip his hair out of his own skull just to give himself some kind of sensation other than the intruding kind of eyes on him. At least you were here with him. 

He clung to you like his only lifeline in this place, his arm threaded through yours, your gentle words pointing out the most important people here, the people you needed to impress and the ones it would be best for both of you to avoid tonight. The ones that would try to make a scene and the ones that would rather not waste their precious breath.

To be honest, he wasn’t listening much to the exact words but your voice comforted him beyond belief, gave him some relief in this kind of personal hell he seemed to be trapped in.

It was him and you. You and him. Facing this together.

Until it wasn’t.

Until you were being swept away by your boss, making it very clear with the way he directly asked you, not even looking in his direction as he wondered if he could ‘borrow you for a second?’ like Hyunjin or you for that matter really had a say in the matter.

And quickly, he was left alone. 

Alone with the weight of the stares on his back, the whispers that he heard hushed whenever he turned his head. 

Really-what did you expect him to do? 

It wasn’t his fault that you’d left him all alone in this place.

Hyunjin walked over to the bar, pulling out his phone to send you a quick text on where he was before ordering something ‘strong’.

Every few minutes he’d check the time, waiting for you to come back to him. Waiting for a time that it would be appropriate to leave an event like this. 

He was a few drinks in, a bit tipsy, nothing more, when someone finally approached him.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, warm breath pressed close against his skin.

“Hey there,”

He stiffened, a kind of wrongness filling him with unease.

Not you.

“H-hey?”

He turned to see a woman holding onto him, clinging to his shoulders, very obviously drunk.

She pulled away and slunk onto the stool next to him, eyes travelling the length of his body.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

Drunken confidence or perhaps she was some other rich socialite that normally acted like this, she let a finger run slowly from his bicep to his wrist, smiling in a way that seemed to be seductive but only made that anxious knot inside of him tighten.

“Hyunjin-I, um, I’m here with-“

She shushed him, calling the bartender for another drink before turning back to him. “I don’t really care who you’re here with pretty boy.”

Her voice was slurred, her body slightly swaying as she fell into his chest, making him nearly jump out of his seat.

She was warm against him-abnormally warm like she was a living furnace. She smelled like alcohol and strong artificial perfume, making his head spin in the worst way.

From across the room Hyunjin caught your eye, you glanced from him to the woman pressed up against his chest, arms loosely thrown around his shoulders.

He watched the question in your eye turn into something colder as she nuzzled closer to him, whispering something he couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears.

‘What the hell are you doing?’, is what he got from you mouthing it from a distance. You looked kinda angry-he thought at least, still tipsy, still distracted from this woman who now asked him lazily if he wanted to dance with her.

Well he shouldn’t.

Any other time he wouldn’t.

But you look positively pissed as he takes her hand in his and helps her sit upright.

You look like you’re about to stomp across the room and press him over the bar counter right now.

In front of everyone.

In front of your rich asshole coworkers, in front of your stupid boss, in front of this woman who clings to him.

And he doesn’t think that he’d mind, or maybe that was the alcohol talking,

But all he wanted was for you to touch him-shove your fingers down his throat

You look jealous and hot and he twitches under his dress pants, his cloudy mind coming up with a bright idea he’d know if he were sober is stupid and probably childish.

But in the moment it’s his brightest idea.

His hands find their way to interlock with the woman’s, she smiles at him and he wishes it were your’s. Wishes that he wouldn’t have to go to this length for you to pay attention to him.

“Would you like to dance, milady?” She swoons at that, nodding along with a smile that makes his stomach churn uncomfortably.

She giggles as he raises an eyebrow, trying his best to smile back at her. “I would!”

And so he dances, he twirls her in his arms, he dips her and pretends she’s you, glad that this isn’t the type of outing that includes dances with any kind of grinding. Glad for once that the rich have some kind of class.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, sneaking small looks over her shoulder as she rambles on about something or other.

You’re in a conversation with your boss and someone else he can’t identify but you’re not listening, you’re not talking or even acknowledging them.

You’re watching him.

And his heart soars at the attention.

The only attention he’s wanted all night. 

The only eyes on him that he hasn’t felt uncomfortable with. Even if it’s paired with a hot glare, burning through his skin.

If looks could kill he would be six feet under the ground.

Maybe it would’ve encouraged him to stop if it didn’t make him feel so hot. 

You’d ruin him tonight. 

You’d make him regret every little second of letting her run her hands all over his body. Every word he’d used to sweet-talk her. You’d touch him and tease him and torture him until he’d be little more than an incoherent slut for you.

And he’d love every second of it.

He’d get high off of it, drink it in like a drug. Like an addiction, a craving that he could never even fathom breaking. 

Not when it would render him so much more useless than any alcohol would. 

Not when it felt like ecstasy and euphoria in his veins. 

Not when he was so completely and utterly obsessed that he’d sink to levels this low to get you to look at him.

Someone said something. Someone close. Oh. Her. He’d nearly forgotten about her.

He hummed, tearing away from you to look down to her. “Hmm?”

She smiled somewhat awkwardly. “You’re a good dancer, you know?”

Hyunjin smiled, taking the compliment. “Thank you-and you as well.” He hadn’t forgotten all his manners after all.

“Why thank you! You know-“

“Hyunjin.” A voice snapped, cutting her off. An involuntary shiver ran down his body and he thought to be ashamed for a second before he realized that he didn’t really care.

“Yes?”

You smiled at her, then at him, trying to seem pleasant. Trying to keep up that facade you’d been wearing all night. “I’m sorry,” you didn’t sound sorry as you gripped his arm, nails digging through the fancy fabric of his shirt. “But would it be alright of I borrowed your dance partner for a bit?”

You didn’t even wait for her reply, pulling him off of her and off the dance floor before the words were even out.

Your voice was a hiss into his ear. The sound like music to his ears. “You’re fucking dead-do you hear me Hwang Hyunjin.” 

It wasn’t a question, no, not in the slightest. No. It was a threat.

—-

“Do you have anything to defend yourself?”

He was on his knees in front of you. Your hand in his hair, tugging his head up to look at you, it aches. It hurts and it feels like heaven, it’s where he belongs. 

“I’m sorry.”

He isn’t.

“Just wanted your attention.” It could be pitiful the way he says it. Voice shaking, trembling slightly. But that’s not the case.

Because his eyes are alight with glee, relentless triumph that tells you the brat got exactly what he fucking wanted.

This is what you love about him though. The push and the pull. The back and forth. It’s something new everyday. It’s a challenge and it’s fucking hot.

But not tonight.

Tonight was important. Tonight was the one night that you didn’t want this. And you’ll make him pay hell for it.

“Bull-fucking-shit, sweetheart.” Your tone is bitter, cold and there’s no taking the words any other way. 

He doesn’t want to take the words any other way. 

Your cold tone and the fury in his eyes only proves one thing-he got his way. “You wanted me to punish you-right darling?” He can’t even keep himself from nodding, admitting it all, completely transparent. 

You laugh, mean and malicious, promising him pain and pleasure and everything in between. “And guess what?” He closes his eyes as you lean down and brush a hand down his dress pants, pressing the heel of your palm against the hard-on he’s been sporting for half the night. “You’re getting exactly what you wanted.”

You suddenly tug him up by his hair and he follows like an obedient dog as you press him back, the counter of the sink digging into his back in a way that would be uncomfortable.

But he can’t think of that.

Not when you press your lips against his, quips and bratty remarks, smartass responses getting buried into the very back of his mind.

This kiss was different. Not gentle and certainly not soft. Hungry and rough, ravenous and demanding and hard. Practically devouring him, eating him alive, all tongue and teeth and lips.

You let yourself get lost in the process. In the movements. In nothing but pure unfiltered yearning and longing. 

And just for a second, only a second, you forget about tonight. Forget about the woman and your boss and these rich assholes you hate almost as much as Hyunjin but can’t do anything about.

You think about how busy you’ve been. How much you want him, how much you’ve needed him. How much you love him.

A feeling you could never begin to put into words so you pour it all into this. Into nipping and biting and turning his brain into mush.

Exactly as he wants.

For a second that’s all there is, not an ounce of anger, filled only with scorching desire.

"I want you,” he whines, hands pressing against your hips, pulling you closer, pulling you into him as you let him slide his tongue into your mouth. “I want you so bad.”

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and his head spins and drool is covering his chin and he can’t get enough.

Of you and your lips and your touch. It’s bliss and it’s so, so much, so overwhelming. He can hardly think straight. 

You hiss out when his hands dig into your hips so hard you’re sure that it’ll leave marks. He pushes himself against you and sobs out, lips trembling, legs shaking. “Miss you-please, miss you so much.” 

You press his hair back, tucking your thumb just under his shirt, running it over his skin to soothe him, hushing him and holding him close.

He shakes, gripping onto you for dear life, burying his head into your chest like if he were to let go, like if he were to not feel you against him you’d disappear.

He mutters something you can’t hear. Low and unintelligible.

“Speak up.” You pull him back, look him in the eye.

Hyunjin looks shy, that desperate look in his eyes, his uneven breathing becoming apparent in heavy pants as he works himself up even further against your thigh. “C-can I make you feel good?”

He’d do about anything for you in this moment. He’d hang the stars in the sky and make a trip to the moon just for a little extra to see you smile. He’d do anything-anything at all, anything you wanted.

You cup his face in your hand and watch as he nuzzles into it, dumb and desperate and focused solely on you. “Only if you want to.” 

He nods and you give him the room to drop to his knees, onto the dirty public bathroom floor, where people still roam about outside.

When you turn and take up his previously place against the counter, pulling down your pants and underwear in one go he whines, a moan rumbling in the back of his throat. 

You look so good, so pretty, he nearly cums in his pants from this alone. 

Who knew you’d look so good standing above him like this? Legs spread open wide, beckoning him closer with a single finger. He flushes and scoots closer, resting his chin against your stomach. “C’mon, don’t get shy on me now Jinnie.”

That’s all the permission he needs as his hands grab at your skin, no hesitation or teasing before he’s pulling you into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

Finally.

Your moan bounces off the four walls of the venues tiled walls, echoing and leaving you glad you had locked the door when you came in.

"Shit!" You curse sharply as his tongue flicks against you.

You’d forgotten how good he is with his mouth when he’s using it for something other than trying to piss you off.

The tongue on him is like no other and you know he knows that as he licks up and down, knowing exactly where to suck and exactly where the spot is that makes you throw your head back with a groan, gasping for air.

Your thighs squeeze around his head as you groan, knuckles turning white as you grab onto the counter. “Fuck!”

He murmurs something against you that you can’t hear, something that vibrates deliciously against your sensitive skin. 

“So good, such a good boy~” You praise him and you know it does something to his head, know that it affects him when he whines, slurping obscenely before shifting closer and pulling one leg over his shoulder. 

Your other hand finds its purchase in his silky hair, digging your fingers almost painfully into his scalp, thrusting into his mouth while name after name falls from your lips.

You don’t even know what you’re saying, too absorbed in the pleasure, but he hears each one.

Hears you call him a slut and a pretty boy, your angel and your little whore, your toy, your puppy. His head swirls, as does his tongue and he knows you’re getting closer, with the way your voice grows more frantic and your hand in his hair pulls harder.

He groans and he whines and he whimpers, throbbing, so very close but he can’t touch. He won’t touch. He’s going to listen. Going to be a good boy and wait.

Not give into the urge to fuck his cock into his fist like his hand is itching to do or start thrusting against your calf like his hips are aching to.

He’s a good boy.

A good puppy.

He can listen.

And in this very moment if all you want to do is use his face like a toy, that’s all he wants to be. 

A perfect brainless toy, pleasing you, ignoring the way his body craves your touch and aching for any kind of stimulation.

All that matters are your moans, the way that you call out him name. The way that you let out a cry as you see white, thighs trembling before they clench tightly around his head, holding him in place as you pet him like he’s your favourite dog.

He better be your favourite.

You look down at him, eyes hazed, smile lazy. 

This is what he is here for. To make you feel good. To be a good puppy for you.

You let him go but he doesn’t move, clinging to your leg, pressing his forehead against your knee as he makes sure to lick up every bit of you.

“Good boy~” He shivers.

You reach down and put a single finger under his chin, pushing his face to look up at you.

His blood runs cold when he recognizes that look in your eye. 

“You were so good for me puppy, too bad,” you muse, to yourself really as you smirk down at him. “Too bad my good puppy can’t cum for another two weeks, as per his punishment.”

His eyes go wide.

He’s fucked up. 

You look sadistic, sweaty hair sticking out in odd directions but still the hottest person on the planet to him. 

“I don’t let other people play with my toys.”

taglist is open here: @lino-jagiyaa, @missrobyn81, @shincode, @laylasbunbunny, @hahagay, @d7dream, @hobihearteu, @imsolovelylovely, @lemonhongjoong, @abcdefgiwsmcty, @xcookiemonsteer

[gallusrostromegalus]

You mentioned once that Mai Valentine likes her sweets boozy and also you had a bunch of other preferred flavor profiles for TPOFATGIF. Any chance of something similar for AEIWAM?

I know Kubo made canon notes on everyone's favorite and least favorite foods, but this is for the AEIWAM versions of the characters. Here's much of the cast's food preferences, as characterization practice:

Ichigo:

As much as he gets teased for it and his name, Ichigo loves him some fruit. He will inhale any fruit or juice left unattended within arm's reach of him in seconds. Melons, berries, pineapple, pears, guava- he does not care. There is fruit, it's going in him. Isshin is pleased his son likes healthy snacks but sometimes the grocery bill can get alarming. Ichigo's least favorite food is anything with capsaicin in it- being a ginger means he's unusually pain-sensitive and with an equally touchy tummy. It burns on both ends and all the way through the middle too.

Orihime:

Tatsuki likes to joke that the gods were drunk when they made Orihime, and they put her taste buds in backwards. Truth is, Orihime is a sensation-seeking kind of autistic girl and loves novel flavors more than anything else. She read "salt, fat, acid, heat" and took it's advice very literally, so you end up with things like "cream (fat) of tuna (salt) balsamic vinegar (acid) sriracha (heat) casserole" . The only thing Orihime really dislikes is foods she's gotten bored of.

Chad:

Beef. The boy needs beef. Chad spent his early adolescence on his Grandfather's Cattle Ranch in Mexico, allowed to eat as much red meat as he wanted and his physique shows it. Now he's back in Japan where it's prohibitively expensive and he is DYING. Please. He is a large carnivore. He can't live like this. Chad's least favorite food is ironically, his most reliable source of red meat: the fast food burger. It's not the same. It mocks him.

(More Karakura Gang and Some Captains under the cut)

Uryuu:

Uryuu is the son of a doctor and a little weirdo in his own right and he will assemble a baked potato or disassemble a slice of pizza with surgical precision. He just sort of likes customizing his food before he eats it. Hence, his least favorite foods are things where all the ingredients are mixed together and inseparable, like stews and casserole.

Tatsuki:

Tatsuki is a hot wings afficionado- she likes all the flavors, because there's a lot of really nice flavor interactions in the milder sauces, but also, the hotter the better. She once entered a hot wings eating contest in middle school where every round was hotter than the last and sailed easily into the "scorpion death pepper" round before being declared the winner, much to her disappointment. She was still hungry, and those were a 5/10 at most for her. Tatsuki's least favorite food with anything with even a hint of clams or other mollusc shellfish in it. She hasn't been diagnosed with an allergy, but given her extreme aversion to shellfish, she's not going to press her luck.

Keigo:

Keigo lives on a rancid diet of junk food, novelty soda, and instant ramen and likes it that way, thank you. Ichigo periodically makes him eat an apple at sword point to get some kind of fiber and vitamin into him. Keigo's least favorite food is anywhere can't cook in a microwave, and all vegetables.

Mizuiro:

Mizuiro is way too vain about his skin and hair to live on Keigo's garbage raccoon diet, but he can't cook to save his life. His favorite foods are multivitamins and everything he can get delivered, and his least favorite is anything deep-fried and greasy

Rukia:

Rukia was raised in fantasy medieval Japan, but is a "I'll try anything once!" Girl and this has lead to her favorite food being Oregano. Favorite condiment. Puts it on everything, even ice cream. Once things calm down a little when she returns to soul society, she gets Orihime to send her a "care package" of assorted spices, snacks and modern "puzzle" foods (juice boxes and ramune) to show to Byakuya, who starts inviting friends and coworkers over to try these things too, and the resulting video makes Ichigo laugh hard enough to rip out a few of his stitches. Rukia's least favorite food is jellybeans, because she can never remember the flavors and keeps putting bad combinations of them in her mouth.

Renji:

Like Chad, Renji needs his fucking protein, and sure loves him some beef, but he's also got that ADHD Hyperfocus going on and regularly forgets to eat so while he's not specifically partial to the flavors, his favorite food in terms of 'keeping him alive and hale' is nutritional protein shakes. Like Ichigo, Renji is also partial to fresh fruits and has the spice tolerance of a recipe blogger from Kansas, but he does have an extremely strong aversion to Bananas that he refuses to explain.

Byakuya:

Byakuya is a sensation-avoidant autist who has had his aversions largely ignored in favor of "you need to uphold the clan honor by being POLITE at this dinner and EATING WHAT YOU ARE SERVED, you can throw up in private later", so his regular diet is quite mild and limited, which moderately terrified Unohana (she IS partially responsible for keeping him alive). A chance encounter with Zaraki Kenpachi accidentally saved the Kuchiki line because he introduced a New Food to Byakuya by being normal about it, and now Byakuya loves BEANS. All of them. Red, Black, Soy, Kidney, Mung, Great Northern, Purple String, Adzuki, Anasazi, Edamame, Pinto, Pole, Striped, Yard, Garbanzo and Navy. Peas too- English, snap, snow, lentil, black-eyed and split. Paired with already-acceptable rice, this makes his limited diet startlingly nutritionally complete and high in fiber. He'll never eat squid or octopus again if he can help it though.

Kenpachi:

AEIWAM Zaraki Kenpachi was raised by eagles and it shows through in weird places, like how he insists on eating poultry and fish bones like his mother taught him to. In fact, the bones from deep-fried chicken are his favorite, and he will help himself to the bones other people don't want. He has a cast iron stomach that rarely gets upset and a notable sweet tooth, but is extremely picky about texture. This surprises some people who think that living as a beggar for a few centuries means he'd eat anything, and comes as no surprise to anyone who HAS been that destitute- an off texture is often your only warning before a potentially lethal case of food poisoning. Hence, Kenpachi's least favorite foods are anything "slimy", which puts him off many sauces and seaweed-based dishes.

Yachiru:

AEIWAM Zaraki is significantly more amiable and cunning than his canon counterpart because, realistically, he had to keep Yachiru fed. No village will let a random murder-hobo in to eat, especially if he's broke, so Zaraki got exceptionally good at ingratiating himself with strangers and getting hired at odd jobs in a hurry. This was an extremely sharp learning curve because he found Yachiru when she was an infant and not yet weaned, and he had to go to some fairly extreme measures to get milk for her. It's a point of pride for him that his little girl has never gone to bed hungry, even if he did. Yachiru is very aware of the fact she has historically eaten better than her father, despite his best efforts to disguise it, so her favorite foods are anything she can share with him- bags of small candies or chips or other snacks she can divy up and insist he eat too. She gave Zaraki his sweet tooth sharing candy like this, but anything she can share while eating is a favorite. Her least favorite is boiled vegetables. There is nothing that can make boiled broccoli worth eating.

Unohana:

Retsu Unohana has severe ADHD and makes food choices based first on the dopamine reward she gets from eating them, and the medical knowledge of "you need vitamins and fiber too, bitch" second. She would live on high-octane coffee with an excessive amount of sugar and cream if it were nutritionally complete, but alas. She does have a notes fondness for organ meats like liver, kidneys and lungs because they taste "richer" to her, and the novelty appeals as well. However, she has seen the horrors of what The Wrong Mushroom will do to a human body up close far too many times, and it's put her off eating fungi entirely. She'll eat her own hand before she'll eat a mushroom.

Komamura:

Food is both a joyful and distressing experience for Sajin. Joyful, because his exceptionally sensitive sense of smell and taste means he gets to experience layers to even the most simple foods that humans can't even begin to comprehend. Distressing, because humans have a very weak sense of taste and over-season their food accordingly, often with poisons. A lot of the reason he started wearing a helmet was less about fear that humans would attack him for being a wolf man, or that he would inspire undue fear in others, and more that he has a hard time saying "No" to people, who keep unwittingly offering him food full of toxic onions or worse, grapes. The helmet was not easily removed, and kept the dangerous gifts at bay. Fortunately, modern humans are more aware of things that will poison him and more willing to make accommodations on his behalf. Still, his least favorite food is Raisins, which keep being added to otherwise perfectly good dishes, like someone deciding to sprinkle a bit of Water Hemlock in their tacos. He still keeps the Occasional "Carnivore Outing" he and Zaraki take to the distant mountains to celebrate their shared cultural heritage a secret though, because he's not sure most of his friends and colleagues are ready to learn that his favorite food is "Elk bone marrow, either still hot from the kill or after it's been buried in dirt for a week", but at least these days he has Zaraki "You know how it is with Liver and Eagles" Kenpachi to commiserate and split the carcass with.

Tousen:

Kaname did his required tour of duty in the living world in Oaxaca, Mexico and while he was there he developed a taste for Chapulines, or fried grasshoppers. He didn't mention this delicacy when he returned to soul society, not out of fear that people would think he was a freak- his coworkers already largely did, either because of his blindness or his Blackness, if not both- but because one of the few coworkers who he genuinely liked and got along with was Lieutenant Mashiro, whose favorite animal is Grasshoppers. His least favorite food is any alcoholic beverage or boozy dessert, because the one time he tried drinking with some friends from Shinigami academy, he developed a case of the spins just two drinks in and immediately became completely disoriented and couldn't right himself, and quickly became too nauseous and panicked to speak. His friends were having a GREAT time and thought Kaname was doing his usual wallflower nonsense until Liza Yadomaru finally realized something was amiss and she and Love Aikawa ended up taking him on a drunken sprint to the emergency room. He got better by morning but now even the smell of alcohol makes him feel sick again.

[lcandothisallday]

Jeremy concepts: Jeremy sees you at a pickup game and shows off to flirt

A Shot Worth Taking - Jeremy (WMCJ) x f!reader

Part 1 - Meet Cute

note: this started as a concept (that’s why the writing is very unprofessional lol) but the idea has sparked an idea for a series

warnings: none

series masterlist!

no because imagine you and your girl friends are there because your friend vanessa is supporting her man while he plays a different game, and you're just sitting there on the bench slightly bored and scrolling through your phone.

but then jeremy sees you and his breath gets caught in his throat--your beauty just stopping him in his tracks completely. and he glances down at his outfit--specifically at his wacky sandals and its the first time he feels a bit self-conscious so he KNEW he had to step up his ball game if he wanted to impress you even an ounce.

kamal notices jeremy's internal conflict and he follows his line of sight and sees you sitting there which causes him to smirk. "finally considering your god awful outfit choices?" he teases the curly haired man. Jeremy scoffs and shrugs him off nonchalantly. "fuck off" he mutters. "we gotta win this pick up," jeremy mumbled.

kamal begins laughing before he smirked, his intrusive thought winning. "AYO!!!" he yelled out towards you, causing you and your home girls to look up and pay attention to the group. immediately Jeremy's eyes widened and he smacked kamal. "man what the fuck are you doing?!" he exclaimed.

"getting her to pay attention," kamal responded. "now pull up and work your magic," he mused, moving towards the middle of the half-court to begin the game.

jeremy groaned and sluggishly followed, hoping you didn't catch on. but the thing is--you did catch on. after kamal had shouted for your guys' attention, you were intrigued, a playful smile on your lips.

"oh my god," Vanessa exclaimed. "what the hell is the white boy wearing?!" she laughed. you cringe playfully but you can't help your giggle.

"its not...that bad" you laughed. "I wonder if he's any good."

your other friend destiny scoffed. "looks like he was dragged from an organic smoothie shop to play in the pick up...aint no way this white man can jump."

as the game starts, you lean forward, resting your elbows against your knees as you and your girls watch intently. jeremy nervously glances you once more before he laser focuses on the game.

you observe as he runs around the court, effectively working with kamal before he approaches the 3-point line for the first time and easily sinking the ball into the basket. your friends gasp in shock and all you can do is grin. jeremy had a proud and cocky grin evident on his face, before he turned, made direct eye contact with you, and confidently winking your way, causing you to blush madly.

destiny instantly caught on and playfully shoved you in disbelief. “the white boy is into you!” she laughed. you go to deny and she scoffs. “don’t try to deny that shit! own it babes!”

“i cant lie…he’s really cute,” you breath out, feeling your face get hot at the confession. you all continue watching as jeremy puts on a record show. he was unbelievably good and extremely funny just from what you overheard him say to the other team.

“oh he’s definitely showing off to get your attention,” vanessa points out after a while with a smirk. “i say you shoot your shot after the game…maybe you need a white guy after the shit show you experienced with that lebanese guy that did you dirty.”

“ugh don’t remind me,” you shutter.

jeremy and kamal were huffing as they stood in front of the other two guys, effectively waiting for the pay out with smirks on their faces.

“pay up bitch,” jeremy mused cockily, his right hand held out while the other held onto the basketball.

the guy whined as he pulled out the bills and handed them over. “you’re gonna get beat up one day with that strategy,” he muttered sourly.

jeremy could only grin. “pleasure doing business.”

“nice game,” he hears someone say, causing him to swing around to face the person, coming face to face with you. he grinned even wider if possible.

“hey,” he breathed out.

“hi,” you smile. “you were really impressive…i cant lie—me and my girls didn’t think you’d play that good,” you admit shyly.

jeremy licked his lips and looked at you with amusement. how the fuck did you manage to be even prettier up close? “i played at gonzaga—”

“yeah i figured with your knees,” you replied, causing him to smirk. “so you paying attention huh?”

you scoff playfully. “how can i not when you’re so obviously trying to impress me,” you flirt back confidently.

Jeremy grinned. “how can i not when such a pretty girl is in the stands watching me?” his comment makes you blush. “im jeremy by the way.”

“im y/n…”

“would you maybe wanna grab dinner sometime?”

[bloodismymedium]

Ur urbanspook headcannons? brava. Spectacular give me 15 more of these

Your wish is my command anon🫀🫀🫀

🦷 Mona’s favorite holiday, predictably enough is Halloween and she loves the autumn season in general. Bill meanwhile, as a stark contrast, REALLY gets into Christmas.

🦷 Mona is touch starved and she doesn’t know it. She completely melts when Bill runs his fingers through her hair or touches her for any reason but she tries to hide these reactions since she doesn‘t want to come off as “weak”.

🦷 Nathan Cole was Bill’s partner and the more level-headed of the duo, being the one who had to reel Bill in whenever he got “overzealous” during police work. Nathan’s a legit good cop and generally nice guy while Bill was an asshole who was the epitome of police brutality.

🦷 The Gimp seen in HELL was Mark, as in “Mark The Machine” who was a blogger/YouTube personality who covered real crime and serial killers and was documenting Mona and Bill’s murders for years, which piqued Mona’s interest in him as she believed he genuinely appreciated her “art”, resulting in her stalking him for a while until finally kidnapping him and turning him into a pet, which is the full extent of her showing any actual affection towards someone. The title of Mark’s “portrait” is a reference to his background as an Internet personality and how Mona has managed to break him down to essentially just a machine, a toy for her to use as she pleases.

🦷 As mentioned before, Mona has an extreme allergy towards sunlight and photosensitivity that makes direct contact with sunlight very painful for her. As a result, Mona only goes out late at night or very early in the morning when the sun isn’t up. On cloudy days she’ll wear a “disguise” composed of a sun dress, opera gloves, stockings, a sun hat, a tattered parasol and a pair of sunglasses, allowing her to comfortably be outside during the day while also protecting herself from any potential rays that may be peaking out.

🦷 Mona is double jointed and is extremely flexible as a result. Her flexibility and ability to contort herself comes in handy in her murders as she is an expert in hiding and breaking in and out of places and she can squeeze herself into tight spaces quite easily as well. This talent of her’s comes in handy on nights when she and Bill get naughty 😏

🦷 Mona does not care for personal hygiene, she likes being a decrepit, stinky girl. However, if there is one form of self care she actually likes it’s brushing her hair because she finds it soothing and she likes her hair in general. Bill is tasked with brushing her hair and has a tendency to smell it while he does.

🦷 Mona has a bit of a hoarding problem as she is an avid collector of many things ranging from knives and human bones/skulls to dolls/stuffed animals and many of her hideouts boasts some impressive collections she has amassed over the years.

🦷 Mona also has an interest in entomology and mycology and boasts some fairly impressive knowledge on the subjects as a result. She’s got some nice bug and mushroom collections as well but she keeps them hidden because Bill keeps trying to eat them.

🦷 Bill loves coffee while Mona is more of a tea gal. Bill prefers iced coffee over hot and Mona prefers hot tea over iced. Also, Mona can take or leave coffee, Bill meanwhile HATES tea.

🦷 Bill loved breakfast foods, eggs & bacon, pancakes, waffles, donuts, you name it, he was also a fan of eggs in general and isn’t too keen on sweets most of the time. Mona is a MEAT girl, any kind of meat will do but human meat/organs is her favorite.

🦷 Mona dislikes guns because she finds them to be an incredibly boring and “impersonal” way of killing someone that doesn’t inspire her much, preferring a more “hands on” approach to murder. Bill meanwhile doesn’t just like guns, he practically worshipped them and was a typical second amendment, NRA type before meeting Mona.

🦷 Mona’s favorite genres of music are Industrial, Alternative Rock, Grunge, Horror Punk, Goth Rock and Dark Cabaret, her favorite artist is either Voltaire or Tom Waits. Bill’s favorite genres are Hard Rock, Thrash Metal, Death Metal, Nu Metal, Groove Metal and Psychedelic, his favorite artist is either Rob Zombie or Disturbed.

🦷 By far, the worst thing Mona has ever done was when she blew up a daycare on Christmas Eve, collected the charred remains of the infants, stitched them back together as macabre flesh dolls and sent them to their parents in gift boxes on Christmas day. Even Bill was kinda shocked when she did this and genuinely didn’t think she could get anymore depraved until she did it… which only made him love her even more in the end.

🦷 Mona’s choice for a final meal would be brown sugar glazed pork chops with colcannon and roasted asparagus, filet mignon with lobster tail, black pudding, a slice of spiced apple cake with french vanilla ice cream and a cup of earl grey. Also if given the choice, Mona would choose to be executed by firing squad. Bill’s final meal would be two pounds of fried chicken with a pound of fried shrimp, scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, a pound of strawberries and a bottle of fireball whiskey. Bill wouldn’t care how he’s executed, just as long Mona is there to see him off.

[prideofcelestia]

❝grocery shopping with him❞

« characters - demon brothers, solomon, diavolo»

« gender neutral reader »

« headcanons »

LUCIFER

He is very efficient. Knowing exactly where every aisle is, the shopping basket is full in the blink of an eye. You are there only to keep him company. Time with you is precious and he intends to keep you close whenever the opportunity presents itself.

He scans the prices and brands before making a decision. He gets the best coffee beans directly from the plantations and he pays them well. He is “husband goals” if you are of an economic mind. He has a lot of coupons but his pride forbids him from using those. Beel is only too happy to receive it from his eldest brother. Owing to his busy schedule, he sometimes gets the necessities delivered. The bored cashier straightens up and greets him very respectfully.

He insists on carrying the bags himself and doesn’t listen to your protests.

MAMMON

Well, he’s scared to visit some stores because he hasn’t paid them back for decades. He is very particular about the stores you two can visit. Once there, he vanishes to check out the shelves and schemes about what he can sell for a higher price.

“After all, demons would pay extra to buy it from THE Great Mammon. We can send the bill to Lucifer. Hahaha,” says Mammon with a bunch of mismatched stuff in his shopping basket.

The burden of completing the shopping falls on you.

You sigh, “Let’s get it done before Lucifer calls and asks for dinner.”

You two carry the shopping bags together.

He buys you a gift while browsing.

LEVIATHAN

He is incapable of completing this mission alone. You must accompany him as he makes a comeback in the outside world in what feels like an eternity! His eyes dart to and fro as if afraid that someone will be disgusted by his presence.

“Where can we get this item, [Name]?” he asks for literally everything on the list.

You give him a tour for the future despite him refusing to follow.

“Levi, you should know where everything is!”

He literally gags when he sees seafood and runs away as fast as he can.

“Levi, wait! You can’t go out with the basket without paying first!”

You apologise for him but keep supporting him. You carry all the bags because he looks shaken and weak.

ASMODEUS

“Oh, [Name], look at these cute shaped cookies. We should definitely get these for my Devilgram!”

Within a few minutes, he has gotten everything in the store that’s not on the list.

“Asmo,” you say breathlessly as you try to catch up to him, “We need to buy groceries for dinner! We can’t eat chocolates and cookies… is that lip gloss? Let’s grab some vegetables!”

Asmo pouts but you shield your eyes from his cuteness. “No, Asmo! It’s been an hour. We should get started now. Plus, the two of us can’t carry all that!”

That’s when he gives up. “You are right. Maybe we can come back some other time. Let’s get the food before Lucifer gets mad.”

He returns some items since it got too heavy and then you two easily carry it to HOL.

SATAN

He’s very methodical and knows where the best deals are to be found! The shopkeepers know him only too well. Oh, vegetables? He knows a place where you can get fresh ones. Ah toiletries? Why, allow him to show you where good quality yet cheap toilet paper can be found. Name it!

Owing to his influence, he never returns from a shopping trip without getting everything that’s on his list - even if it’s sold out everywhere.

“I must get fresh ingredients to prove that my food is better than Lucifer’s,” he grins as he starts dinner preparations. “Oh, and try this coffee. The beans are a delicacy. I stayed awake for 2 days after drinking half a cup. I completed an entire series by a writer I like.”

“Sounds dangerous for the health, Satan.”

BEELZEBUB

You accompany him to make sure that he doesn’t eat the grocery store while he’s at it. He listens to you and tries to control himself but his hands still stretch to grab some food items that nobody should eat raw. So you have to devote half of your attention picking items for dinner and the other half to make sure that Beel doesn’t cause a lot of trouble.

“I’ll make you something you will enjoy for dinner so just wait for a bit longer, bub,” you promise and he behaves.

The rest of the trip is spent imagining all the delicacies that he will request you to make.

He carries all the bags back.

BELPHEGOR

He’s too lazy to care.

“Why didn't you ask one of my brothers to do the shopping in your place?” Belphie groans, looking drowsy. The supermarket was not his idea of an ideal date. “You know that they would have been only too happy to do it if you had asked. Then we could have taken a nap together instead.”

You put some onions in the basket and turn towards him wearily. “But it was my turn today. I can't always drop the burden on someone else. Besides,” your tone softens, almost apologetic, “Why don't I make something you like tonight? Something light on the stomach that will help you get good dreams?”

He narrows his eyes but looks pleased, “It seems that I am no different than my brothers. I can't say no to you. You make me melt. What can I say? You know me too well… ”

You carry the bags while he carries a pillow.

DIAVOLO

He tags along to spend time with you. The idea of chatting with you while doing the most mundane daily activities appeals to him. It’s sweet and endearing and he likes to stop talking and instead observe you deciding between two brands. These are Barbatos’ duties so he never gets the chance to enjoy these. He seems to be familiar with tea and coffee and can guide you about the best ones, even though he rarely drinks store-bought beverages.

He bombards you with questions about what you usually buy and make for dinner and promises to join you again if he's free.

He won’t let you carry the bags. Let him help you. Whoever sees the demon prince with grocery bags in his hands feels startled. Even royal demons are involved in housework! Mothers will be telling this story to the little ones for centuries to come.

SOLOMON

Solomon takes his time since you are there with him. A man needs to relax after researching all day.

“Ah look at this leafy cabbage. This was grown at the Hellfire Plantation. They use a special kind of manure. It’s very tasty,” he says and buys two.

The extent of his knowledge is bizarre. When he catches you looking mystified, he laughs. “Haha you look so suspicious of me. I am sorry. For some time in the last century, I took special interest in learning about the agricultural and rearing practices in the Devildom.”

“Wow Solomon,” you say impressed. “There seems to be nothing you don’t know!”

“Haha, that’s kind of you but there’s still a lot to learn about the world.”

“Thank you for coming shopping with me. Why don’t we return to Purgatory Hall? I will treat you to my cooking?” he offers with a satisfied smile.

Your instinct tells you to run but you ignore it and smile shakily instead. “Eh… ah… I actually promised Levi that I will play games with him tonight. Sorry! Maybe next time?”

That's when your legs start moving in the opposite direction, deserting him with all the bags.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

hi okay so idk if your reqs are open rn (if not oops im really sorry) but pls plsplspls could you do svt with a socially exhausted introverted s/o (just coups if not svt) (this is totally not based on me and how absolutely tired i am of social gatherings) please only do it if you are inspired and have time! Dont force yourself!!! Also lysm youre doing great

ABSOLUTELY I will do this for you (also hi very rude of you to call me out like this, i am ur resident socially exhausted/overstimulated introvert gf) but since you brought up cheol I can't stop thinking about it for him and it fits so well! so here you go my lovely!! so: cheol with his socially exhausted s/o, or you can't filter your thoughts when you're peopled out and accidentally tell seungcheol you want to marry him (and maybe have his kids) gn reader, this is all meant to be comforting and cute, there are mentions of gambling at the beginning, pet names are used (baby, honey).

It's seven in the evening and Seungcheol has to settle a bet.

"Sorry guys. It's over." He throws in his cards, tosses some spare bills onto the table, and grabs his coat while the other boys groan.

"You owe me $50," Vernon says in English to Joshua, who shakes his head in disappointment.

Seungcheol decidedly will not be telling you about how the guys had bet how long you'd be able to last at your social engagement before texting him to come get you. Almost nobody had had any faith in you, and Seungcheol privately hoped they were right because you'd been so busy lately and he'd been missing you, but he knew that you'd be grumpy about people betting against you.

He's almost giddy, skipping to his car and humming along to the music as he drives to come pick you up, but that all changes when he sees you. Normally, not even your introverted nature can keep you from lighting up when you saw Seungcheol, but all you can manage is a tired smile and a wave as he pulls up to the curb where you're waiting.

"Hey baby," you call to him as he hops out of the car to open your door. "How was game night?"

"Boring," he says, wrapping you up in a hug, partially because it's true and partially because he knows how guilty you'll feel if he tells you he was enjoying himself and you pulled him away. (Never mind the fact that he'd leave his own presidential inauguration just to pick up a flower you liked.)

Seungcheol feels you slump against him, and he chuckles. "Tired?"

"You have no idea." This has been a busy and demanding work week for you, not to mention that your family recently moved closer to spend more time with you, and while you're very close, your sometimes demanding social battery is drained, leaving you exhausted, more irritable and emotional than normal, and prone to long episodes of dissociation in public. Even now, you can feel yourself begin to tear up. "I'm sorry for stealing you away."

He sighs, exasperated. "Let's get my baby home to rest."

He keeps one of his hands in yours as he drives. "Thanks for coming to get me," you say as you lean against the side of his car.

"Of course, honey," he says, keeping his eyes on the road. "Thanks for calling me."

If there's one thing Seungcheol will always do for you, it's unconsciously erase all of your anxiety around being a burden. It was one of the reasons it was so easy for you to be around him -- you felt so safe with him. He never made you feel like any favor you asked of him was too much, and he always made it seem like such a privilege to love you the way he did, without you ever even having to say anything. It's this thought that has you smiling at his profile, watching him as he drives until he gives you an uneasy look. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply easily. "You're a fine man, Choi Seungcheol."

"Did you drink tonight?" he asks.

You swat his arm. "No, I'm just too tired to filter my thoughts. And my thoughts are saying that you're really pretty."

"You are pretty," he says quietly, smiling to himself. "But thanks."

"You're welcome," you say, settling back into the seat and closing your eyes.

By the time you arrive home, you're feeling calmer and less scattered. After parking in the driveway, Seungcheol comes around the side of the car to open your door again. "Can I carry you inside?" he asks hopefully.

"Now?" He's been asking this since you moved in together. "I'm okay, really."

"You look reeeeeeeeeeeally tired," he begs. "What's the point of all this gym stuff if not to carry you across the threshold of our shared residence?"

"Save it for the wedding night, Seungcheol," you tell him, and then the both of you freeze.

Because really, that is the reason you haven't let him yet. Of course, you hadn't planned on telling him that until much, much later, but once again, your social battery being on 5% has gotten you into trouble.

But Seungcheol doesn't seem worried -- in fact, he seems kind of...proud? "Okay," he says staunchly, his chest puffed out. "I will save it for the wedding night. Amazing idea, baby."

You groan as you take his hand to let him help you out of the car. "Forget I said that."

"Not a chance," he says. "Don't worry though. I know you're tired, so I'll wait until tomorrow to ask you about wedding colors."

"Shut up," you giggle.

Seungcheol ushers you into the house and locks the door behind him, following you into the living room where you collapse on the couch. He laughs at the way your face is smushed into the couch cushions before padding into the bathroom and starting the water. You listen as he bumps around the bathroom, too tired to move your head to look at him, but a few minutes later he comes into the living room and crouches beside your face. "Come on, honey," he says quietly, his eyes overwhelmingly kind.

So you take his offered hand and let him lead you into the bathroom, where there is a candlelit bath with rose petals waiting for you. "Is the water okay?" he asks, a little nervous as you test it with your finger.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"You're perfect," he says softly before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your nose. "I'll be waiting in bed for you."

Seungcheol closes the door quietly behind him as he leaves the room. You, for your part, are once again wondering where you found a man like him as you strip down and slip into the warm water, letting yourself fully unwind for the first time in a week.

You stay in the bath for nearly an hour, but it pays off -- you leave feeling much less frazzled and drained. You're still tired, though, and you're sure Seungcheol can see it on your face as you enter your shared bedroom clad in your pajamas, because he opens up the covers he's already under and motions for you to come into his arms.

You comply, nuzzling your head into his chest like a cat with its favorite patch of carpet, and he brings a broad hand up to cradle the back of your neck -- the spot where he knows you get your tension headaches, which he massages for you on days like today.

"Feeling better?" he asks softly, kissing your forehead.

"Yeah," you say. "Thanks."

You just lay there quietly for awhile, relishing the feel of his hand rubbing firm circles into your neck. You appreciate that he refrains from asking about your night, knowing you may need some time to process before you'll be ready to talk about it. But you know he's wondering, so you decide to give him something, even if it's not much. "It was really fun," you tell him. "It's just been a long week."

"I know, baby." He kisses your forehead again. "I'm impressed with you for going and for how long you stayed. And it's good progress that you called me before you got too overstimulated."

You chuckle. "It was either come home or start throwing things and maiming people."

"You made the right choice," Seungcheol says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

The moment is so perfect you want to freeze it in time: this man with his arms around you, in the low light of the bedside lamp, and the way you can just be around him without any demands. Your damaged filter, on the other hand, has other plans. "I don't know what I'll do when our kids just want me to be around all the time," you worry aloud.

Seungcheol's arms tighten around you. "Our kids?" he asks quietly, and you cringe.

"I'm exposing myself majorly tonight," you say.

"No, no, it's alright," he says, obviously trying to conceal how gleeful he is. "This version of you is...something else. I really like it."

"I'm sure you do," you grumble, but you muster the strength to look him in the eye. "Just so long as we're on the same page, I don't really mind you knowing I want to marry you and have your kids."

"We are most definitely on the same page," Seungcheol states firmly, leaning down a bit to kiss you. "I was on that page forever ago, so I'm glad you finally caught up."

And as he kisses you again, you think that as long as you've got him to love you whether or not you're capable of controlling your thoughts, any potential bumps in the road you might experience will be alright.