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ckret2 · 4 months

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Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:

Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.

Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.

(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)

####

Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist.

The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.

At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.

So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.

####

"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.

"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."

"Sure."

Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.

She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.

"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"

Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."

Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"

"No I didn't. When?"

"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."

"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."

"Hey!"

"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."

"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."

What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky.

A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.

"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"

Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."

"If they didn't, were they executed...?"

"No. They were just rude."

That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"

The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"

"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."

"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."

Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."

"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"

"I didn't need a bow tie then."

Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"

Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.

"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"

Bill raised his brows.

"Right? Doesn't it?"

"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."

Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."

"Like I said! He went insane!"

"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"

"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"

Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"

Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"

(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)

"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"

"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."

"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"

She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"

"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"

He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.

"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"

She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.

But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"

"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"

"But—"

"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.

Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."

Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.

Why had she bothered?

When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.

####

Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.

On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.

The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.

####

The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."

Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"

"Who was the first triangular president?"

"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."

"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."

"How should I know!"

"You knew an hour ago."

He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"

"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"

Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.

"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"

His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.

The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.

####

He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.

There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.

####

A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.

Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.

He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.

Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?

He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.

####

Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.

Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...

And shown his true, jerky colors again.

Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.

Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.

He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?

Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.

From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"

He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."

"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."

"No. I'm gonna say something to you."

He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."

"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"

She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"

Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."

Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"

"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."

Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"

"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."

"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"

Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)

She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."

"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"

"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"

"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"

"What. Would. She. Say."

Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."

"Biiill?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."

"Aaand?"

"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."

"And you need to eat your nice rice!"

Bill let out a long, slow sigh.

"Say it!"

"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."

Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.

"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"

She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."

Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room.

He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.

He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.

Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?

She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."

Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."

"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."

Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"

"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.

"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."

She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"

"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."

She'd never heard him apologize before.

She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"

"If you're so embarrassed—"

"Not embarrassed!"

She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"

Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.

Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.

Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.

No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.

"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.

Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.

Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."

"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"

Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.

Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)

Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.

Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"

His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."

Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."

He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"

If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"

Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"

"No?"

####

As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:

Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream.

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."

####

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."

"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"

Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."

It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"

This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"

"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.

"Sure."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.

Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"

Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.

But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."

"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)

"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"

Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"Grunkle Stan says it!"

"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"

Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—

"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"

Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"

"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"

Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"

"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"

"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"

Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"

Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"

Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.

"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"

"i'm sorryyy."

Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here."

As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."

"Eww, Bill."

"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"

Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it.

So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."

A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."

His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."

####

(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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neil-gaiman · 3 months

Note

Hi Mr. Gaiman (sorry for the ramble in advance),

Hope you're doing well. I don't usually use tumblr, but every time I open it up you're here so I figure I'd drop a note. I'm a writer, but I've always had a really hard time actually WRITING instead of just thinking about it. I've had this world and its characters plaguing my head for years now, and it's only gotten worse with age, so recently I doubled down and decided it was gonna get done—one way or the other.

I recently read a passage in a book about writing that said, in essence, your first book doesn't really matter all that much if you plan to be an author. As an autistic lad, I (naturally) took this very literally and was upset at the thought. Sure, your first work is probably going to be your weakest—duh, because by the time book two rolls around you'll have had time to have faced any criticisms from your first, you'll have learned more as you write, and about the world too. But for your first book to not matter at all, no matter how passionate you are about it—I found myself wondering, "Well, what's the point at all, then?" You put in all that work, you learn plot devices, you breathe life into your characters and watch 'em toddle around, and for what? For it to just be a stepping stone? It felt intensely personal of it just being cast aside like that, and I haven't even written the damn thing yet!

MasterClass had a Father's Day sale, so I figured "why not" and went ahead and got a subscription. First thing I did was run to your class, and although I've only watched the first two parts—I want to thank you for restoring my motivation. Truth is, I think the reason that message in the writing book upset me so much is because I'm terrified of writing this damn book. I've woven so many pieces of myself into it, despite it very much being, in your words, a lie (and about a boy that lies all the time, no less), but the grief that I feel and all the complicated feelings about forgiveness are all there and very real, despite its fantastical elements. So much of it really IS more than I'm comfortable sharing with people, and the idea of baring all that out and being told it didn't matter at all? Absolutely devastating. At the end of the line? The book might actually suck. I might rewrite it, I might trash it, I might completely forget about it ten years from now, or I might sell ten copies on Amazon to family and friends and then move on with my life. It's not stepping on a yellow jacket nest in the woods, but it's still terrifying. I still can't even fathom the idea of letting anyone actually read it until I've obsessed over it for another four years, and even then! But I'll write it anyways.

Thank you.

You are so welcome!

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spacexseven · 1 year

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Fyodor would be a family man that’s good at hiding his true intentions from his family such as the decay of angels and rats house along with his s/o just nurturing their son and having a peaceful side along with Nikolai being a family friend who would entertain Fyodors son. One happy family

anon i could kiss you senseless rn...literally one of the best things i've ever had the honor of seeing in my inbox. this idea has ruined me i swear it's Perfect

fem reader, reader is married to fyodor and has a son w him

cw: yandere character, deceit, manipulation, mentioned murder

fyodor dostoevsky makes for a wonderful husband—loving, ordinary, almost suspiciously so, but you married him knowing that he was an ordinary man. you loved him knowing that he was an ordinary man.

an ordinary man with some extremely unsettling secrets, none that you knew about.

the fyodor dostoevsky you knew and loved was the man who kissed the palm of your hand, and if he was feeling particularly affectionate, your forehead, every morning before he left for work, with a half-smile on his lips and a fond gleam in his eyes. you weren't quite sure what he did, except that he worked for a company of some kind, but you didn't like the way his face hardened when you probed, so you left it at that. it didn't matter what he did, anyway, so long as he came back to greet you every night, safe and unharmed.

the man you married was the one who'd come home to greet you with a tired nod and a warm embrace, entertaining your son's excited rambling over dinner. he held you close when he read before sleeping, stroking your hair with a light touch. as far as you were concerned, he was an amazing husband and lover.

though he was not necessarily a good person otherwise.

you were so easily blinded by the tender warmth he showed his family, that you hardly cared for his uncharacteristic slip-ups. like when he scowls, ever so slightly, when the news broadcasts some detective agency receiving an award, or when a ghost of a smile lingers as you wonder out loud how a casino could be floating in the sky.

you never once questioned the times he came home in an entirely different coat from when he went out, or when he was away for days on end, not calling you or leaving you a single message. was it because you trusted him wholeheartedly, or because you were afraid of what the truth really was?

but even if you had your own suspicions, it would have never even come close to what fyodor was really doing. how were you to know that the same lips that whispered sweet songs of praise to you with a coquettish smile were the same ones that uttered a death sentence to his countless victims? and how were you to know that the steady hands that caressed your body so intimately had also touched numerous corpses? the husband that spoiled you on anniversaries and birthdays could not be the same man that was actively planning to cover the world with the blood of sinners.

for the most part, you liked nikolai too. he was a little odd, considering his getup and his tendency to seemingly pop out of nowhere, but he was good friends with your husband—dos, as he called fyodor—and your son loved playing with him. he didn't tell you what he did, either, though he let it slip that he worked very closely with your husband. he refused to explain fyodor's unexplained disappearances, though he would often stop by to show your son a new magic trick when fyodor was gone for a little too long, just to reassure you a little.

nothing really gave it away; not the amused expression when you told him to stay safe on his way, nor his eccentric coworkers. you were just happy that your husband always came home to you, and never failed to remind you that he loved you. there were, perhaps, more things that should have worried you. the way fyodor insisted that you keep your social circle small, or the frustrated look in his eyes that was beginning to appear more and more often. even the peculiar things he was beginning to tell you.

you're lying in fyodor's lap, mind drifting between sleep and consciousness as he looks at you with an unreadable expression. then, perhaps noticing that you weren't completely asleep, a little smile appears on his face. "tell me," his voice is soft, but every word feels strangely heavy, "will you ever leave me?" you frown slightly, and he chuckles. "even if i did something you don't agree with?" you shake your head, "what's this about?" his smile widens, and he gently pinches your cheek. the look in his eyes is unnaturally cold. "it doesn't matter. either way...you don't have anyone else to turn to."

and you could have continued the way life was, with your mostly ordinary husband and your wonderful family. at least, until he turns up at your door after an especially long period of disappearance. you would be thrilled, normally, but you're much too shocked at the sight of your husband in what looks like a prison uniform to feel any relief.

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heartshapedcigaretteburns · 8 months

Text

(RAHRWAHRAHAHAHWAHRAWR 😩‼️)

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who hates leaving you even before you start dating. He worries about you 24/7 while he's on a mission even if he knows you can take care of yourself.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who can't help but feel like you're already family. You're at his parents house every holiday get together and you're friends with all his cousins and siblings. You're his plus one to every wedding. It'd be so easy for you to take his last name.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who convinces you to move in with him. He says it's cost efficient but really it's because he can't stand being away from you more than he has to. He loves coming home to you just lounging or cooking bc it makes him feel like you're his little wife waiting for him to come home ☹️ he just wants someone to hold him when it's over. It also doesn't hurt that he gets to see you prance around with wet hair in just a t shirt (no bra 😏) and panties bc you hate the feelings of pants on your freshly moisturized legs.

This doesn't help the problem Childhood Bsf Soap! has of talking about you to his team like you've been married to him for years. Calls you his lass, the missus, his lady. "Can't make it to the bar tonight, the missus has been looking forward to this new movie so I'm gonna take my lass to see it." The first time he complained about your new partner his teammates were stunned bc this whole time they thought you were his gf/wife. Soap likes the idea of people assuming you 2 are a couple.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who has never liked any of your past partners and always made it very well known bc this boy can't hide his emotions. If he has to be around the person you're talking to romantically he's constantly like this 😡 in the corner literally POUTING. He'll even go as far as trying to convince you to break up with them for something. "They didn't even know your favorite childhood cartoon! They obviously don't care about getting to know you on a deeper level maybe you should end it now 😁"

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who already knows your relationship preferences and love languages. When he finally decides he's had enough of the just friends thing he takes full advantage of the years he's spent listening to you rant about love and ramble about your dream partner. All of the sudden he's hitting you with all the aspects you want in a partner and it's not an opportunity any sane person could pass up.

Childhood Bsf Soap! Who traps you in the bedroom the night before a mission. He got the call just after lunch and you haven't left the bed since. Hours later, his head is on your chest and you're lazily stroking his mohawk and watching some cooking show on the tv. He stays buried in you all night even after he goes soft just to be as close to you as possible before he has to leave. He's praying he's allowed to come back to you again this time.

Umh 2nd ever time doing something like this 😬not as proud of this one bc I don't read much about Soap personally but I figured I started with Gaz so I might as well do another underated one. Soap needs some love too fr 💕 I really don't know what I'm doing y'all 😔😭

#cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod smut #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #john price #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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sweethearts4you · 8 months

Text

sick cuddles | l. Williamson x teen!reader

(just pretend youre the dog haha)

summary: you go to training sick, leah takes care of you

(i'm not that good at summaries)

a/n: hi guys!! this is my very first time writing any form of story outside of school, so some feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! also keep in mind that i don't know anything about pro footballers schedules, so i'm just guessing. english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind <3

1064 words

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After snoozing your alarm for the seventh time you finally decided to wake up. It felt like you had woken up from the dead, you had the most dreadful headache ever and your throat was so sore, it felt like there was a literal porcupine inside your throat. You tiredly reached for your phone to check the time, and it read 09.52 “OH SHIT, I'M LATE, LEAH’S GOING TO KILL ME!” you exclaimed, which you quickly regretted once you burst out into a coughing fit.

When you first joined Arsenal at 16 years old, it was Leah who first took you under her wing. She let you live with her until you found an apartment you could move into, despite her protests of you being too young to live alone you decided to move. The first four months of you living there Leah always came over to check on you, she would have kept doing it if you hadn't complained about it all the time. She agreed to stop coming over, only if you would call her immediately if something happened.

You quickly dressed yourself and made some toast, and ran out the door. It was 10.14 when you finally got to the arsenal training centre. Luckily for you the girls didn't notice you coming in, since they were busy cleaning up breakfast. “Hey y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you coming in earlier” Beth asked you once she saw you. “Oh, i was just… sitting over there” you say awkwardly as you waved your hand to a random area. “Weird, anyways..” she said as she started rambling on about Myle and how cute she is. You were honestly not paying attention and just throwing in a random mhm and awe once in a while. You felt someone looking at you, so you looked around a bit, until you saw Leah looking intensely at you as if she was trying to figure something out.

Leah felt like something was a little off with you, your voice was a little hoarse and you looked a little pale. She made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout training. Beth was still rambling on about Myle and showing you pictures of her, until Leah came and interrupted “Y/N come on you’re going to be late”, “Okayy” you sighed.

You were walking to the pitch with Leah until you abruptly stopped as a wave of dizziness came over you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened? She asked as she put her arm around to steady you. “Yeah, I just suddenly got a little dizzy, but it's alright” you responded. Leah brushed it off, knowing you wouldn't tell her anyways.

You were trying to dribble the ball past Katie, until Katie went in for a tackle, which was 100% clean, but since you were sick and a little unstable you fell over onto the grass, face down. “Ey, mate you good?” Katie asked you, “Yea.. just give me second” you groaned. “Hey! What's going on?” You heard Leah yell. “I don’t know!” Katie said defensively. You heard Leah running over, and when she got to you, you felt her bend over and put a hand on your back, “Hey kid, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” she asked softly, “My head” you whispered in a barely audible voice. “Okay” she said worriedly, she put her hand on your head, “Jesus christ, you're burning up!” she said, sounding quite distressed. She lifted you up from the ground, “Alright good girl, let’s get you inside. Okay?” Leah said softly, as she was basically carrying you, as you were barely able to stand on your own. “Okay” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what she was saying because of how much your head was pounding.

“She has a high fever, and is quite dehydrated. She can't train for the rest of the week and she needs lots of rest and make sure she drinks enough water..” the doctor said. “Alright, you hear that bub. Lots of rest and water” she said, while rubbing your back.

By the time you were done at the doctor, training was over. “Y/n/n training is over so i'm going to drive us to mine, okay?” Leah said. “Yeah, okay..” you said tiredly. You were in the backseat while Leah was driving. Every once in a while Leah glanced back to see how you were doing, when she looked back at you she smiled fondly at the sight of you sound asleep leaning against the window. When you made it home you were still asleep so Leah carried you inside deciding that you needed the rest. When you made it inside Leah put you softly down onto the couch, so she could keep an eye on you while she made food.

“Hey sweets wake up, I made your favourite pasta.” she whispered softly, while rubbing your back. “Mmm okay” you mumbled half asleep. After you and Leah finished eating, she took the plates and started washing them. “Thanks for the Le, it actually tasted good” you joked in your hoarse voice, “Ha ha” she said sarcastically, just as you were about to laugh you burst out into a coughing fit. Leah turned around alarmed, “Hey, hey, it's okay” she said comfortingly while she rubbed your back. Once you had settled down, she went to get something. When she came back you saw her carrying a cup of tea, “Here, it's tea for your throat”, “Thanks Leah” you mumbled.

Once you had finished your tea, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Let's get you to bed, alright?” Leah said, in which you just hummed in reply. You walked into the bedroom and changed into the clothes Leah lent to you, which was an old Arsenal hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts. “Le, snuggles please?” you asked shyly when you were done changing, “Alright bub, i'm just going to change then i'll be back” she said chuckling. When she was done changing you both laid down in bed, with you laying against Leah with your head in her crook of her shoulder, and Leah hugging you while tracing aimlessly around your back. Just like you guys used to do after you had a nightmare and came into her room, when you lived together.

Shortly after you were sound asleep in her arms.

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hope you guys enjoyed! a comment or some feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

#arsenal wfc #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #katie mccabe #fluff

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5iyoomi · 3 months

Text

How The Haikyuu Boys Kiss You ━ Part 2

characters: Sugawara, Shirabu, Semi, Akaashi

warnings: all fluff with a touch of hurt/comfort in Sugawara's 🙏 gender neutral reader here as well

A/N: I'm totally not procrastinating making my masterlists (I don't have much on here yet so it's fine right? right.) but anyways I've had so many ideas lately which is crazy cuz almost all of what I usually write is like mlm x characters. I barely touch x readers myself but I love reading em'. Making a blog in the middle of a deep hyperfixation will do wonders like that cuz I've been writing smth practically every day LOL.... sorry if this one's shorter/sorta all over the place

Part 1 | Word Count: 1,170

‎

Sugawara Koushi

His kisses are definitely short and sweet (like Hinata) but they're passionate

He's probably the most experienced of the boys or at least comes off that way, he knows what to do and how to do it

He's pretty feather-light with his touches, so much so that you don't even register they're there half the time

But you like how they ground you in the moment

Sugawara's also the kind of guy to kiss your tears away, relishing in how your eyelashes flutter while he flashes you a comforting smile that he saves for you in your more vulnerable moments

"Everything's gonna be alright, okay? I'm here for you"

He'll usually kiss you when you least expect it, rambling on about something you're interested in or something before he leans in

Your words get caught in your throat when he does, but he doesn't let it linger, so you're just left blinking in surprise with a visible question mark floating over the top of your head

He must be able to tell cuz he laughs a little

It leaves you wanting more, so he never complains if you ask for another or take the initiative and give him one right back

He has a tendency to place his hand atop yours or on your knee/thigh when you kiss

He also likes when you kiss his cheek, right where his birthmark is. It tickles since it's by his eye, but it makes him feel closer to you

Sweet but super shameless, if somebody sees you and you get fidgety he'll tell you there's nothing to be embarrassed about

"So? It's fine if people talk. We're dating, aren't we?"

Needless to say you stopped caring so much after that

Shirabu Kenjirou

ANOTHER UNDERRATED KING

"He's mean/annoying" DON'T EVEN JOKE LAD

Anyways....

He's not allergic to PDA but he won't entertain it at first

Like at all

It's not cuz he doesn't want to, but he gets really shy about it

As his first partner, you're naturally his first kiss too, so he has no idea what he's doing

He's scared you'll make fun of him, so when the perfect moment arises and he turns his head at the last second, you have to face him and tell him that his inexperience doesn't matter to you

You won't laugh or poke fun at him, you respect his feelings and always will

He's less apprehensive if it's also your first, but it's still a hurdle you have to overcome

He's probably a little blunt especially when it comes to affection, he says the exact opposite of what he means 80% of the time

"I can do it myself" = he wants help but doesn't know how to ask for it

"I know that, idiot" = he's silently thankful you didn't brush him aside, that you looked past that composed facade he puts on sometimes and brought him out of it

Once that's out of the way and he feels like he can be more open with what he wants, he recloses the distance between you

It's messy and stilted, but neither of you mind. He just wants to be near you

He's so touch starved it's insane, you'll hold his hand or touch his face and he literally freezes up

If you didn't know any better, you'd think it was because he didn't like it, but you know he wants to, he's just really awkward. He has a lot of difficulty with asking for physical touch

Did I mention touch starved?

He pushes away from you if somebody sees, even if you guys aren't kissing

"You didn't see anything" he says to whoever it is, and you chuckle, ruffling his hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead

You can see his brain short-circuit in real time when you do :>

Semi Eita

Tendou would absolutely tease him for it but he has the biggest soft spot for you

You'd be at one of their games holding up a sign with his name on it or cheering the loudest for him and Tendou makes a mental note to mess with Semi later (much to the shorter boy's dismay)

Tendou's a MENACE

But anyway

His kisses are pretty similar to Sugawara's, but they last for longer

Light, passionate kisses with his hands on your lower back or two fingers gently tilting your chin up if you're shorter than him

They might get deeper, they might not. It just depends on how you react and how he's feeling (he never wants to accidentally push you into anything)

But once he's got you, he doesn't wanna let you go

He gives them out sparingly, more of a words of affirmation person, but he likes how much you smile against him when he does

He's surprisingly pretty doting on his partner, so if you grab his wrist when he moves to catch his breath, 9 times out of 10 he'll yield to your touch

"Not yet..." oh BOY he's whipped. He'd only say no if you both actually had to be somewhere or he starts to get sick of the stares thrown his way that are mostly from Tendou and Shirabu

He has you wrapped around his finger just as much as you've got him wrapped around yours

If he isn't kissing you on your lips, then he'll bring your hand to his mouth and kiss your knuckles/fingers

It reminds you of a prince from one of those old fairy tales <3

Akaashi Keiji

When it comes down to initiation with him, it's kinda 50/50

Akaashi's the kind of person to get explicit consent before doing anything and on top of that he can read people pretty easily, especially people he knows well

So if he senses any apprehension he'll stop or give you a quick peck on your cheek instead

But if you lean into him, lips puckered and a wordless plea in your eyes, he doesn't have any reason to refuse

(On the flip side, I don't think he minds random kisses or hugs from you, but he appreciates if you ask too)

His kisses are soft and loving, the kind that leave you feeling warm and floaty for a few minutes afterwards

They're always purposeful too, kisses after an accomplishment or during one of your dates

But sometimes he does just wanna kiss you cuz you look pretty/handsome

Your lips curl up, eyes lightly squinted in a display of happiness as you look at him like he's as beautiful as the stars

And it's then that he gets that urge

He's more embarrassed about being seen or walked in on. He probably wouldn't wanna keep going, so most of your kisses in public are short (but still equally sweet)

He keeps his hands above your shoulders, or he holds your own, giving them the occasional gentle squeeze

He swipes a thumb across your cheek and presses a parting kiss to the corner of your mouth, bright eyes saying more than he ever could

He loves you, he really does

#🌙 ── 5iyoworks #sugawara koushi #koushi sugawara #shirabu kenjirou #kenjirou shirabu #semi eita #eita semi #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #sugawara x reader #shirabu x reader #semi x reader #akaashi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #hq hcs #hq fluff

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jeffthekillerzblog · 10 months

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a major plot point or like the entire thing about my au is just the creeps moving on and having their own character arcs throughout the years and finally heal from their past trauma

(rest is me rambling about my au...u don't have to read if u don't wanna its pretty long)

Jeff's arc is big on him finding his brother and coming to terms with what really happened. jeff is so incredibly stubborn and a big (very) egotistical. he finds it hard to open up and after what happened he feels that there's no point opening up anyway bc he's literally a famous asshole serial killer who's messed up SO many people's lives. another big thing about his arc is just owning up to his actions and apologizing to the people he's hurt. for example, nina. he led her on, treated her terribly for no reason, and was overall just an asshole. after they get into an argument he'll eventually apologize bc like he didn't HATE nina, he's was and prob still is in a terrible mindset and copes in such unhealthy ways. IDK OK I'm rambling but my point is he does eventually apologize to nina not because he needs her or like wants to use her again. he apologizes because he genuinely misses her and BOOM they become besties again after jeff properly apologizes and ya. BUT basically jeff's arc is him finally finding liu after all these years and yeah he apologizes to all the people he hurt (or the IMPORTANT ones) like nina, liu, and EVENTUALLY... jane. but that's WAY into the future (besides nina) he's way too full of himself to apologize now.

Nina's arc is her getting over JEFF. her love for Jeff began when she met him. she already admired him, but he turned into a full on crush. he did lead her on, and it hurt her a lot. shed spent tons of nights alone when jeff was supposed to be sleeping next to her, and she just felt so lonely, especially since jeff was so neglectful. She talks to clockwork about it and they help her realize her self worth and comforts her (she's terrible at it). Nina starts hanging out with Nat and toby more often, and it makes her feel SO much better about herself. Eventually she does get fed up of jeffs bs and they get into an argument and nina decides to leave. she kicks him out of her apartment and she doesn't let him come back. (she does....when he apologizes.....) She eventually learns to love herself and realize she doesn't need a stinky man's validation. Theres also a bit of her coming to terms with her own trauma, but I haven't fully fleshed that part out yet.

BEN's arc is probably my favorite. he's lost all his memories of his past life, and now after he accidentally found out he's NOT just a computer AI program, he decides to take it on himself to find out who his family was, how his life was, and how he died. I wont say as much bc I want to keep it a surprise, but in summary it fucks him up LMAO

ok that's it. OBVIOUSLY the rest of the creeps are healing as well BUT I have not fleshed out their stories yet...oops. so its just three for now. Except MUCH more stuff about the trio bc I love them with my all.. if u have any questions feel free to ask :3

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #nina the killer #jeff the killer fanart #nina the killer fanart #BEN drowned #ben drowned #ben drowned fanart #creepypasta fanart #creepypastas

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beomboomboom · 6 months

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Falling for you (literally)

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, drunken confession

pairing: Soonyoung x reader

summary: You never would've thought that helping a drunk Soonyoung go home would lead to him falling for you both literally and figuratively.

warnings: a little bit of swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol

note: Drunk Hoshi never fails to make me laugh 😭😂. This fic is part of an ask for drunken confession fics. Enjoy reading <33

"Come on, let's go home," you sigh when you catch sight of Soonyoung's slumped figure in the bar, his friends nowhere to be seen.

"I don't wanna. I'm tired," Soonyoung wines in response as he leans his body weight on you, his face puffy and flushed a light shade of pink from all the alcohol.

You should've known better than to believe Jeonghan when he called saying that your best friend was feeling sick and needed someone to take him to the hospital.

When you realized Jeonghan lied and called you only because he didn't want to be the one to haul Soonyoung's drunk ass home, to say you felt betrayed would be an understatement.

"I swear to god Jeonghan I will get you back for this," you mutter and curse Jeonghan under your breath as you take Soonyoung's limbs and attempt to haul him out of the bar. "Come on Soonyoung let's get out of here."

"Nooo~," Soonyoung whines as tears begin to escape his eyes, "I never got to beat Jeonghan in his drinking game."

"It's okay, next time you can try to win against Jeonghan," you say as you try to reason with Soonyoung, while knowing very well that with his alcohol tolerance he has about a zero percent chance of ever winning any drinking game whatsoever.

"Your house is close by, so you can walk a little right?" you question as you silently asses Soonyoung's condition. He seems a bit unstable so you wrap his arm around your shoulders and let him lean his weight on you. When you feel his hot skin meet yours you try to brush off the speeding up of your heartbeat, praying desperately that Soonyoung is too drunk to notice.

"Mhmm...I can walk," Soonyoung says with a drunken giggle as he stumbles out the door of the bar and leans his head on your shoulder.

"Careful, there's stairs here," you warn, slowing down so that Soonyoung can gain at least a bit of stability.

"Okayy~" Soonyoung giggles in response before letting out a scream as he trips over his own two feet and tumbles down the stairs.

"SOONYOUNG," you yell, panicked as you quickly run down the stairs. "Are you okay?"

"hehehe~" Soonyoung drunkenly giggles. "I fell for you."

Your mind goes in overdrive the moment you hear his words. On one hand you're concerned for him after just falling down the stairs seconds ago. The blood running down his knee and forehead has you wanting to rush him home so you can quickly take care of him.

But on the other hand, your brain is stuck on his confession that seems way too fake to be real. His confession that, if true, means your feelings might not actually be one-sided after all.

It must be a joke.

After all, Soonyoung makes a ton of jokes when he's drunk.

"No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your liquor," you respond jokingly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and ignoring Soonyoung's past comment.

"Nooo~ I'm being serious," Soonyoung whines as tears begin to fall down his cheeks while he clings to your body. "Why can't you believe what I say? I like you."

You swear your heart stops in that moment. Gently, you cup Soonyoung's flushed face with your hand as you let out a fond laugh. "I like you too, but let's talk about this when you're sober."

Soonyoung lets out an excited squeal when he hears your response. "I guess my seducing techniques worked. I purposely wore clothes I knew you would like and-," Soonyoung begins to ramble before being interrupted by your embarrassed scream.

"You were doing that on purpose?!" You let out a embarrassed laugh as you give Sooonyoung a playful shove. "Anyways, we should go to your house. There's blood all over your knee and forehead"

"Can I have a kiss on my scratches? I think it'll help it get better," Soonyoung pouts while looking at you earnestly.

"That's kind of dirty though. There's blood-"

"Please?"

"Fine. But this is only because I like you," you relent as you gently kiss his knee and forehead.

"Okay, now a kiss here," Soonyoung says as he giggles and leans in closer to you to give you a kiss on the lips.

"Not right now. We need to get you cleaned up first," you say while ignoring Soonyoung's cries of protest. "I'll give you as many kisses as you want but only if you can walk with me to your house."

The second Soonyoung hears your words he jumps up and happily stumbles after you as you lead him to his house.

You let out a fond smile as you tuck in a passed-out Soonyoung.

"I'm falling for you more and more every day," you whisper into his ear as you give a small peck on his forehead, right where a tiger printed band-aid sits (Soonyoung cried until you let him have the tiger band-aid) evidence of where Soonyoung quite literally fell for you.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #hoshi fanfic #hoshi x y/n #hoshi x you #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #kwon soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung scenarios #kwon soonyoung imagines #kwon soonyoung fluff

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wondeurwall · 7 months

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Idk if u've seen rafayel's new oracle story BUT IT HAS BEEN PLAGUING MY MIND

"What if i make it up to you like this yeah?"

MAKE UP SEX WITH RAFAYEL.

TELL ME DO YOU THINK THEY'LL HAVE IT OFTEN?? But ones in a more playful sort of way not really full on arguments if you get what i mean 😩💗💗

oh my god please, nonnie, rafayel's oracle story is literally the only thing on my mind. i've been so unwell

i went in with one dream and spent everything i had because my luck is abysmal. and, the worst part?? I CAN'T EVEN BE UPSET ABOUT IT 😭🫵🏻 it wasn't what i expected. it's kind of funny ASKDDJKD!! i thought it'd be myth related. instead, i was blessed with rafayel.... kisses... 🥰

itty bitty nsfw 🔞 mdni.

rafayel would 100% down for playful makeup sex 😵‍💫💕 honestly, he'd pull any kind of excuse just to get you undressed and fucked out in bliss. he loves how pretty you look when you cum 💕 even more when he and you can get a good laugh in between because he'd appreciate lightheartedness in intimacy. after all, he wouldn't have sex with anyone else! he needs trust to do those sweet, silly things too, and he can only ever do that with you.

because i think he'd find a lot of fun with it, he'd do it often, but the sex doesn't necessarily need to be absolutely mind-blowing once initiated. banter is fun, even better when it leads to sex, but he just loves being close like that: naked and a tangled mess of limbs with the warmth coming from your body to his.

he's a night owl, so he's unintentionally ignoring your texts. maybe, even misses a few phone calls or immediately ends an incoming one, thinking it's an alarm he set up before. part of the day goes by and you're coming into his home to make sure he's doing alright. there's no use in pretending that you aren't upset. because you are upset! you didn't hear from him 💔 but, you find that he's just now out of bed after finishing a new piece of art.

"were you asleep this whole time?" you ask.

he rambles on about a sudden inspiration he had and that, "it'd be wrong to rest when the idea was too good."

you listen, nod, but truthfully some of his words go in and out the other ear. you frown at him. and, when he asks why you have that look on your face, you're quick to say, "i'm sure you can figure out why."

he knows. of course, he knows. he reads you well, just like you do him. then, his shoulders are a little hunched over, and he's laughing!

"i've really spoiled you," he says softly. his hands are on your hips the next second, pulling you close. "mm, why not let me make it up to you? i'm awake now, and we have the rest of the day to ourselves."

he lifts you and lays you on the couch. kisses you while he thinks about how many times he can get you gushing on his fingers and tongue before his cock.

OR, if you're the one making it up to him 🥹

accidentally spilling paint on a good shirt of his? you're panicking as soon as it happens. your hands move faster than your mouth, and you're halfway with unbuttoning his shirt before telling him he needs to take it off.

his laughter is what stops you. it dawns on you! but, to be fair, your thoughts don't have anything else besides: the shirt must be washed before it really stains.

"someone's being bold," he chuckles as your eyes meet. "did you plan this?"

"what?" and, the fabric drops from between your fingers. rafayel doesn't miss the way your gaze falls briefly, catching the sight of his bare chest, last 2 or 3 buttons barely laying over his abdomen. "me, ruining a piece of clothing that's probably over three times my budget? i don't think that's planning. it's called being clumsy."

your face feels warm. you take a deep breath, reach out to him, "c'mon. i'll wash it. take it off before the paint makes it unsalvageable."

rafayel clasps your wrist with his hand, steps into your space, voice deepening with a tinge of playfulness, "no, i can think of a better idea. how about me and you have matching clothes?"

he embraces you, gets you wearing blotches of paint too, and you want to argue. but, you can't find the energy to when one hand is guiding your head back and the other is tugging on your neckline. rafayel's lips move to your throat first. then, trails open-mouthed kisses along the rest of your neck, jaw, the base of your shoulder, before whispering, "it's a good idea, yeah?"

since you're the one to make a mess of his shirt first, he wants you riding him as compensation. to make him feel good? yes, sure, he loves that. though, the reason for it, most of all: he wants you using his cock like you own it. wants you aching and desperate for him. cum all over him, feel good because of him. nothing gets him going more than watching you bounce on top and moan his name so sweetly 🥰

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #lads x reader #lads smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #rafayel x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ MAIL 💌#omg i went a little overboard with this JFRKLGFD!!#i'd love to do drabbles for things like these #maybe i'll do that after this fic isn't eating my brain anymore #the amount of times i've listened to raf's oracle... UNHEALTHY

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moonferry · 3 months

Text

yk when u want a specific type of content but it like doesn't exist so u have to make it urself..

anyway have some bachelors x masc farmer ideas/headcanons/rambles. idk i just say words. long post so strap in, folks! honestly these could be considered gn if u squint bc i don't really use masc pronouns in the writing, however there are mentions of masc labels (boyfriend, husband)

mentions of internalized homophobia + depression

i may do bachelorettes x fem farmer next so stay tuned :3

harvey:

- wears his boyfriend's/husband's shirts. literally no exceptions. if you wore it, he is going to wear it too. you left a shirt at his place? oh. it's his now. and he's going to be smiling the entire time he wears it. this being said, i think he'd totally be like T____T it doesn't smell like you anymore and ask for a different one.

- loves to compliment your appearance or just you in general (in my play through he literally says "you look so handsome. did you shave?" like 3 times a week)

- personally, i see harvey as being bisexual + super open about it. like everyone in town supports him & they're so ecstatic for him when they see he has a boyfriend.

- if you have yet to ask him out, though, and he's realizing his feelings i think it would be very hard for him to hide them. someone could be asking him something and you walk into the clinic? his entire train of thought is GONE. i'm talking they have to wave their hand in front of his face to get his attention back.

- don't even get me STARTED on if you propose. he'd literally walk into the clinic, slam his coffee on the reception desk and be like, "MARU, LOOK." pretty sure he fainted and maru had to fan him back to consciousness.

elliott:

- despite elliott's openness with his own sexuality, i think he was terrified of your rejection. not too terrified obviously because something something inspiration from painful experiences yada yada. if you ended up not being interested in him, he probably would've gotten over it - but don't be surprised if you notice some strange subtext in his writing. he's a romantic writer - if he has feelings, they're going to get written down. sorry folks.

- but * yay * you didn't reject him, so elliott is still inspired. maybe you even become the next love interest in his newest novel? who knows.

- in his 14 heart event, he writes a series of letters to you because he has to leave pelican town for a week. i absolutely loved this idea and i think elliott would do this even if he was in the town. they could be something as mundane as what he did that day/week and he just. put it in the mailbox. you still enjoy reading them, though.

- i think he absolutely loves using "my" like "my man", "my husband" "my beloved" just anything, really. he loves you so much - and he knows he doesn't own you, obviously, he's just so glad he is lucky enough to call you his.

alex:

- i think alex was TERRIFIED of falling in love with you. in his 10 heart event, he mentions telling himself that he shouldn't experience these feelings for another man. every act of kindness you showed him ate away at his heart and it drove him crazy.

- i think he experienced a little internal homophobia before finally realizing that it was okay. it doesn't help that george is so adamant about him finding a girlfriend (and that george has a little homophobic arc 🥲). alex probably internalized these ideas and pushed himself into his gridball/weightlifting obsession to quiet his mind.

- after he finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt - and was entirely relieved when you felt the same way - it was as if a weight removed itself from his chest. he could finally breathe again. the world seemed different - in a good way. colors were more vivid, sounds were more pleasing to hear, the earth felt solid underneath his feel for once. he wasn't afraid of anything, especially not with you beside him.

- now, he proudly walks around the town with your hand in his, smiling to himself.

- sometimes those thoughts start to seep back in, though. like when he's about to sleep at night and his brain just can't shut up. he starts to hate himself again, and then he feels you press against him or hears you mutter in your sleep and his heart softens.

- also he got george and evelyn shirts that say "i love my gay grandson" they wear them proudly.

shane:

- surprised that anyone took a romantic interest in him, not surprised by the fact that you're a guy.

- i don't think shane has a "preference" for dating someone, he goes based off of vibes + personality rather than gender or appearance. he also doesn't label himself or his sexuality/romantic attraction.

- he's definitely a shirt lender. like you see a nice jacket in his closet and you're like "hey, hun, can i borrow this?" "sure."

- thinks you look amazing in his clothes. probably puts the best ones on hangers (or at the top of the clothing pile) in hopes that you'd choose them.

- even if he doesn't show it outwardly, he's super afraid of losing you. because of his mental illness, he can't help but think that every good thing he has will be taken away from him or that he "doesn't deserve" them. (he does, and you often remind him of this if he gets too into his head).

- i picture him reaching over and placing a hand on your arm in the middle of the night JUST to make sure you were still there and not the universe playing a cruel joke on him.

- can cook, but he's so used to making frozen dinners that he often forgets to.

- if you're taller than him, forehead kisses are a MUST. he will not let you leave the farmhouse until he receives his daily forehead kiss.

- i think he loves being the little spoon. it just makes him feel safer, more grounded in a way. he's been at the point where it feels like nothing is permanent and it can all end in the blink of an eye, so being spooned helps him realize that it isn't all that bad and that it will be okay, given the right time and effort.

- shane definitely falls asleep on his husband's chest like.. once a week.

- because mental illness is a constant battle, i imagine shane still gets "bad days". but don't worry! his loving husband is here to help. shane's depressive episodes usually consist of lying in bed (often for days at a time) and it's extremely hard for him to do anything. but the farmer is used to this - he's definitely read up on mental health books and how to support someone with depression. the farmer never tries to force shane out of bed or tells him that he needs to "get over it". the farmer often checks on him in between their farm duties. i imagine when the farmer is completely finished, they sits down on the edge of the bed and play with shane's hair or rubs their hand up and down his back:

"hey shane, are you okay?"

"i will be."

"i love you, chickadee."

"i know."

"do you want some ice cream?"

"yes, please."

sam:

- by far, the most "affectionate"? in a way.

- sammy loves pda im sorry. if you two are walking along, he has to be touching you in some way - whether it's holding your hand. your arm looped through his own, your hand in his hoodie pocket, etc. he just needs physical contact. i also think he'd look at you with big, wet eyes and wait until you kiss him.

- he takes you to band practice !!! seb and abby don't really mind, and you even offer some input on how they should approach their next song.

- absolute golden retriever boyfriend. can and will curl up on your lap and cuddle against you (even if he's ridiculously tall and lanky).

- if and when you attend all his shows/concerts, he definitely pulls you on stage once the set it over and kisses you publicly - sebastian and abigail just roll their eyes (this happens every single time. they're used to it).

- probably has your name written on his guitar.

- i think kent and jodi would be some of the most supportive people ever - they're just happy their son found someone to be with, regardless of gender.

- i think kent would probably sit you down and give you "the talk" about *grumble grumble* if you break my son's heart *grumble grumble*. not that you would, obviously, you adore sam. but kent's words do put the fear of god in you - this is the man who sends you bombs in the mail as a "friendly gesture"

- don't let that fool you, though, kent will be an absolute waterfall if you and sam get married. i also think he'd be more of a "ask for his blessing" before proposing kind of guy, but he'd give it willingly.

- sam loves it when you run a hand through his hair (if he had a tail, it would be wagging).

- sam puppyboy au? thinking thoughts...

sebastian:

- i think the only one surprised that seb has a boyfriend is seb himself. he always pictured himself a "loner for life" and DEFINITELY didn't expect to fall in love with this weird farm boy.

- he probably spends more time at the farm house/wherever you two hang out than his own home. but who could blame him?

- he was so confused about his feelings that he ended up talking to maru for help (crazy, right?) the two of them built a pillow fort near maru's telescope and spent hours talking. it was quiet nice. this helped him realize two things: 1) maybe his sister wasn't all that bad and 2) he was DEFINITELY in love with another man. he didn't know which was more confusing.

- i think sebastian likely confessed first in a sort of "nonchalant" way. i think the conversation went like this:

farmer,teasing: "oooh, you wanna kiss me sooo bad it makes you look stupid."

seb: "yeah, i do."

neither of you were prepared for that. i think he would ease the tension by just. ignoring what he just said.

- i think he smiles like a frog . a sort of :} if you will. like bulbasaur.

- speaking of bulbasaur, that is definitely his favorite pokémon. oh and froakie. he just like the little frog dudes. would love you forever if you won him a plushie from the claw machine.

- it's no secret that seb often thinks no one would notice if he left, but getting closer to you made him realize that.. someone would. and maybe that's enough.

- if he stays up late working on a project, just walk over to his desk and wrap him into a back hug. bonus points if you voice is gravelly from sleep. "let's go to bed, sebby." he'd melt. like full on puddle on the ground.

- because sebastian is like 5'6 you'd think he enjoys being the small spoon. WRONG!!! he is a big spoon exclusively. you don't mind, though.

- he would die if you played with his hands while cuddling. please give this boy some physical affection. he deserves it.

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