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natalicss · 1 month ago

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Glitter & Crimson

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

summary: you and ji-yong live busy lives. as both of you start preparing for new albums and tours, as well as manage long distance during the holiday of love, the pressure of it all seems to get to you. set in the same universe as like we were in paris

warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, reader is working herself too hard, mentions of not eating, not proofread, implied age gap (reader is mid twenties), reader crashes out a lil bit, if i missed any lemme know and ill add it (i still don’t know how to use tumblr)

word count: 4.2K

nat’s notes: hey y’all!! in honor of valentine’s day i wanted to write SOMETHING, and this is what came out. i don’t actually know how romantic this is but…it’s more of american pop star & jiyong sooo im not gonna complain. i also didn’t tag anyone cause…for some reason that scares me so whoops. OH the little divider thing below is by strangergraphics btw

Valentine’s day, a cliche holiday that people often either love or despise. You usually felt pessimistic, for years. For years, you spent the holiday with your friends, going out and drinking nights away, dancing in clubs and wearing flattering outfits. If you weren’t doing that, you were curled up at home surrounded by your favorite snacks as you binged watched your favorite show. You didn’t like Valentine’s day, but you took the day to take care of yourself.

And then you met Ji-yong.

It was almost embarrassing, how easily that man swept you off your feet. A whimsical fairytale of unexpected friends to lovers. He made every day an adventure, one way or another. Never a second did you doubt your love for him. Not even when the two of you went months without seeing each other, swept up in busy schedules. Not even when the two of you kept your relationship a secret from fans and the industry for years. That didn’t go well, considering you two leaked it yourselves by locking lips at a Chanel fashion show…oops.

You grew to love Valentine’s day, the both of you using it as an excuse to share how much you adored and cared about each other even more than you already did. Flowers, chocolates, romantic dates, you two had done it all at this point. So, you couldn’t help but feel a little ache in your heart as you walked into your LA dance studio, getting ready for tour rehearsals.

While Ji-yong was busy himself with rehearsals, preparing for his new album, his new show, and everything else that comes with G-Dragon’s comeback, you were worrying about your own. Your fifth album was released a couple months ago, and the pending start of your tour was coming quicker than you anticipated. After the fashion show, and a few remaining days with your boyfriend, you had no choice but to return back to America and continue getting ready. You two barely had time to bask in the reality that everybody knew about your relationship, now separated by the ocean.

Your days were filled with chaos. From the Grammys, to meeting with stylists and trying different pieces, to rehearsals for choreography, to overlooking the stage setup and the designs, to picking out your microphones, meeting with various crew members, you barely had a moment to breathe. With the time difference adding on to that, you and Ji-yong found keeping in contact a bit harder than usual. For years, it didn’t matter. If one of you was busy, the other wasn’t, and the two of you could compromise schedules, take phone calls at random times, and find more free time to travel back and forth. But this? This was different.

You were standing in a large studio with your backup dancers and your choreographer, all of you covered in sweat, your body's aching, and your hearts pounding against your chests. Valentine’s day was this week, and you tried hard not to focus on it. It was your first Valentine’s day that you wouldn’t be with your boyfriend. And while in reality, that wasn’t that big of a deal, it hurt knowing that you weren’t even certain when you’d see him next.

Trying not to dwell on it, you focused on your work. Pushing yourself farther than usual. You moved with precision and acted as if the studio was your stage. Your choreographer, who you’d been working with for years, watched you intently as you and your dancers swung your hips to the beat. You held a microphone to your lips, singing along to your latest single. You strut, looking at the mirror and the would-be crowd. You felt every movement. It burned. It ached. It stung. Your lungs felt like they were going to collapse. You hadn’t worked this hard, this long, since your first world tour. Back then, you felt like you had something to prove. New to the industry, blowing up alongside some of the best artists. You wanted to show that you were meant to be there.

In a way, you felt like that now. Five albums later, your fourth world tour, and you felt that need to prove that you still were that American pop-princess they crowned you to be. Maybe it was the press finally getting to you. Comments on how your last tour wasn’t as extravagant, how you haven’t been in the media as much the last few years, resulting in a potential downfall in your career. Maybe it was the need to please the fans, knowing they’ve been waiting for almost two years for this tour. Knowing they were going to want it to be good, better than before. Maybe it was your team, who constantly had their own thoughts and opinions on what your setlist should be, what outfits you should wear, where your tour dates should be. It was normal, expected when you’ve been in the industry. Knowing that still didn’t diminish the weight on your shoulders as you moved your legs with an articulate move.

One of your dancers, Raphael, was trying to hide the concern on his face as the two of you continued your dance for another song. He had been one of your dancers since your second tour, and a good friend along the way. He knew you better than most people here, other than maybe your best friend who was quietly watching from the sidelines. He’d seen you working hard like this for weeks. Even before you left for Paris, he had started to get worried as he watched you push and push and push. You could take a lot, you were strong and ambitious, things he admired. But everybody had a limit.

He thought you would have gotten some rest after your performance in Paris, taking a few days off to spend with Ji-yong before coming back to LA. That had given him some temporary relief. But when you got back, his concern was back more than ever. He noticed how little you did anything else. You were hardly eating, coming into your work days with circles under your eyes, you had started to become more agitated when anyone made mistakes, especially yourself. You barely took breaks. When the other dancers were sitting down, drinking water, eating their lunches, you were still on the floor, practicing harder moves and trying to perfect them.

Raphael was staring at you now, watching as your body faced him, your head still angled towards the mirror as you sang. Your hand pressed into his chest, pushing him slightly as the two of you moved in sync. He walked backwards, watching you closely. Your eyes were glossed over with exhaustion, red from lack of sleep, and your skin was sticky with sweat. His eyes danced over you, watching the way your hand shook holding the microphone. The way your legs started to move with less precision. You missed a note. Other dancers noticed, keeping up with their own routine but sending looks at Raphael and each other.

You slowly blinked as you moved with them, seemingly out of it. As you spun, everything around you seemed to, too. Your vision blurred, the room rotating in odd angles as you started to stumble in your steps. Part of you knew something was wrong, but another part of you refused to accept it, pushing. You kept the microphone up by your lips, continuing to sing despite the way your lungs were burning for more oxygen. Your choreographer stood up straight, her eyebrows furrowing. You pulled the microphone away to continue a dance break, but as you started the first difficult move, the room began to spin in a nauseating way.

Your brain couldn't catch up as you started to fall forward. Raphael wrapped an arm around you, yelling your name in panic as the two of you collided with the floor. The choreographer quickly stopped the music, everyone in the room starting to crowd around you. Your friend came over, bottled water in hand, and their phone as they looked you over. In a few moments, your eyes fluttered open, and in the one moment your body stopped overworking you could feel the way every part of you was hurting.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Your choreographer asked, looking you over. “Give them some room,” Dancers started to step back, their eyes never leaving you. You groaned, sitting up slowly as Raphael kept a hand on your shoulder. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” You answered shortly, reaching for the water in your friends hand. “I just haven’t drank enough water today. I’m good.”

Raphael and your friend shared knowing looks. “Y/N, maybe you should take a minute. You just passed out, again-” “I’m fine!” The two of them watched as you pushed off the floor harshly. You still swayed in your steps, but you remained upwards. You started chugging the water, crushing the plastic before throwing it towards the trashcan. You shook your limbs, as if that would erase the exhaustion. “Again!”

Raphael clenched his jaw, knowing that you couldn’t go on like this. If you did, tour wasn’t going to last more than a couple shows. You had passed out at a practice a couple weeks ago, too. When you and your crew were getting ready for the Gala Des Pièces Jaunes event, you had over-exerted yourself and collapsed. That time, Raphael hadn’t been able to catch you, and you had landed harshly on the floor. And though he had been there to catch you this time, you might not be so lucky if you were on stage. He looked in the direction of your friend, who was back on the side lines. They were thinking the same thing.

But you weren’t listening. At every concerned comment your friend made, you brushed it off with a dismissive huff, and any time Raphael suggested to you to rest, or eat, or take a day off, you shot back with a snarky remark. You were too busy to take a break. You had too much counting on this tour. You had to be perfect.

So, they had to reach out to the one person you would listen to.

Ji-yong was entirely unaware of exactly how much work you were putting yourself through. He knew you were busy, as he was doing many of the same things you were. And sure, he noticed some tension in your voice when he asked you about your days, but he thought it was just anxiety. You’d always been so nervous when big projects were coming up. It was what made your shows so amazing, the way you cared about your work, your fans. The message was clear in every lyric, every dance, and more.

So, when he got a phone call mid-afternoon from Raphael, he was a little confused. The two of them were friends, of course, but they hardly talked one-on one. Still, he answered it, bringing his phone to his ear as he excused himself from the room filled with management. “Hello?”

“Hi, sorry to bother you man,” Raphael says. In his voice, Ji-yong can here something that he couldn’t exactly place. Like something was lurking behind his tone.

“No, it’s fine,” Ji-yong says kindly. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a lingering silence, some shuffling on the other end. Raphael sighs as he takes a moment to find the right words. “No, uh, not really. It’s Y/N.”

Ji-yong tenses, his thumb playing with the rings on his fingers. “What’s going on?” He asks warily.

“Has she told you about the tour?”

“Parts.” Ji-yong says, trying hard to keep his tone light and unnerved. “She’s been busy, so we haven’t talked about it in detail.”

Raphael scoffs slightly, “She’s been busy, alright.” Ji-yong hears Raphael shuffle more, “We’re worried about her, man. She’s been working herself to the bone.”

Ji-yong blinks. “Is she stressed?” He thinks about all the things the two of you did to cope with anxiety. Whether it was breathing exercises, meditation, listening to music, he thinks about mentioning it to him-

“She’s more than that. She’s barely sleeping, eating, she passed out at practice again��”

“What do you mean again?”

Raphael exhales loudly, “She didn’t tell you about that either?” He is chuckling lowly. Ji-yong is looking at the floor, his mind all over the place. “For that gala, she was working so much, she fainted at practice a couple days before the show.”

Ji-yong is pacing, unable to stop himself. How had you not told him? How had he not noticed? He always asked you if you ate that day, he always texted you little reminders to eat breakfast, drink water. You had always done the same for him, too, knowing his own struggles with his mental health and working himself too hard. A guilty ache in his gut made him suddenly feel uncomfortable in his skin.

“She’s not listening to anybody. We’ve all tried telling her to take a break, to eat, to take a fucking nap. She just gets mad.” Raphael’s words make Ji-yong wince, painfully understanding what that was like. “Which is why I called you.”

Ji-yong is looking around the building he’s in, looking out the window. Seoul moved around him like it always had. His team was in a room just a few feet away, working away at his album, his tour, his press tours. And yet, all of that felt silly now as he thought about you. His partner who he truly cared about more than himself. He clenched his jaw, scratching at his hair as he tries to think clearly. He could call you, scold you for your carelessness for yourself and try to knock some sense into you. But he knew you better than that, just like you did. You knew how upset he’d be at you for working too hard, so you hadn’t mentioned it, leaving out key points in conversation. And he knew you wouldn’t listen, not to a phone call.

So, desperate times call for desperate measures.

As the week of Valentines continued, so did you. You continued working hard, refusing to acknowledge worried comments from your co-workers. Even your manager had tried to say something, only to get snapped at (which didn’t happen often). If your choreographer conveniently got sick, like today, that didn’t stop you from going to the studio and continuing practice alone.

The music blared from the speakers, but your own heavy breathing and the squeaking of tennis shoes was louder in your ears. You chose not to sing today, the only leniency you’d give your body. Instead, you focused on the set, practicing a new song that was going to be released with the deluxe version of your album. You moved your arms with the music, tilting your body in various directions, imagining your dancers were there to help create the perfect image. You swing your body in a sensual motion, sinking lower to the ground. Your body was screaming at you, almost begging you to stop as you stood back up. You glared at your own reflection. You could see it. The exhaustion. The stress. You could feel the pressure scratching into your muscles like claws.

Tears pricked your eyes as you stared at yourself. You had lost weight, probably from the lack of meals and the extreme amounts of exercise. Your eyes red with bags under them. You looked almost sick, from how tired you were. You could feel it. And yet you didn’t let your body stop. As a particularly intense part came up, tears streamed down your pale cheeks as you pushed. Every move was hit exactly as it should be. Extreme, fast, smooth, and a hint of flirtation as you beamed at the mirror like your fans were watching from the other side. You ignored the way your throat burned at the sobs threatening to escape you. You ignored the way your arms were aching every time you moved. You ignored how your feet suddenly felt to heavy to move.

Until you hit the floor.

Your legs had given out on you, letting you land in a heap of limbs. You scrunch your face up in pain, tears falling more rapidly. You pushed yourself up slowly, staring down at the floor like it had pulled you down. It wasn’t good enough. You weren’t good enough. This tour was going to fall apart, and it’d be entirely your fault. Your fans would be disappointed, your dancers and your crew would lose their jobs, your team would be mad at you, and you would have to face it all alone-

You let out a scream of frustration, slamming your hands against the floor repeatedly. The scream eventually contorted into a strangled sob. Your body shook, no longer having the energy to get up. You leaned back down, your forehead resting against the floor a you heaved. All of the stress, the overbearing pressure, the weeks of working hours and hours a day. It all washes over you like a bone crushing tsunami.

You didn’t notice the door opening, something dropping to the floor, and running footsteps until someone grabs you.

Initially, you flinch at the touch. Expecting it to be Raphael or your friend, you shoot up from the floor, trying to scoot away from them. But instead, you’re facing a wide-eyed mint-haired Ji-yong. Your boyfriend. Who was, last you checked, supposed to be in Seoul, not LA.

You blink. Were you hallucinating? For a moment, he just stared at you. He’d never seen you like this. Stressed? Tired? Absolutely. But this was different. Oddly reminiscent of his own past. The thought shook him to his core. His expression softened as he reached for you, his hand falling on your shoulder. You looked back at him, his touch bringing you back to reality. This was real, he was in front of you, and he’d just walked into your studio to see you in a pile of tears.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice hoarse. You look him over, he looked in much better condition than you. Except for the worry in his eyes that made you shrink back into your guilt.

“Your friends called me.” Ji-yong explains, reaching up and pushing your hair out of your face. You felt warm to the touch, too warm. “They’re worried about you, and so am I,” You looked away from him. You didn’t want to face the guilt, the anxiety, the feelings bubbling up in you the last few weeks. “Talk to me,”

You could only shrug, meek. You looked around the studio. “It’s not going to work.” You whisper. He frowns. “The tour. It’s going to fail. I’m going to mess up, or it’s not going to be good enough, and everyone is going to hate it, and I can’t risk that. I can’t mess this up-”

“Jagiya,” Ji-yong’s voice cuts through the air with an unexpected warmth. You look at him. “All of this will be perfect, but none of this is worth basically killing yourself for.” He slides closer to you, “You can’t give it your all if you’re like this. You of all people know that.” He was right. His clear calm words sinking into you. “You’re not going to mess this up. You’re not going to disappoint anyone. You’re not going to fail.” You feel tears roll down your face, and then you feel his touch. As he wipes them away, you lean into his palm for comfort.

“I missed you,” You whimper.

“I missed you, beautiful,” He whispered back. Slowly, you came forward. You let his arms wrap around you as you curled into his chest, letting out a slow sigh as you finally let your body relax. He ran his fingers through your hair, holding you close. He rested his chin on top of your head, sitting in silence for a moment. His heart hurt with you, for you. You had always been your own biggest critic, he shared a similar testament for himself. But seeing you like this, something so unlike you, made his chest ache. “For the rest of the week, you’re relaxing.”

You sit up again, wide, fearful eyes looking at his calm ones. “I can’t! We have dress rehearsal-”

“You’re not arguing with me on this. Your choreographer already agreed.” His tone was slightly more stern, remaining soft whilst still showing how serious he was. You pressed your lips into a line. “I’m here all week, and you and I are both going to rest.”

“But you have so much to do. The album-”

“Can wait a few days. I promise.” He lifts your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s get home. I’ll run you a bath and we can watch your favorite show.”

You stare at him, pondering the offer. But he can see as your expression softens, the dark cloud looming over your features fading away. “Can we make hot cocoa?” You ask quietly.

He can only smile. “Of course.” He tells you. You crack a smile, then. He slowly starts to stand up, pulling you with him. As he turns to grab your bags, you tug at his wrist. He spins back to face you, gasping as you kiss him harshly. His hands find their home on your waist, pulling you into him. It had been a few weeks since the two of you saw each other, and neither of you expected your reunion to go like this. You poured out every feeling into the kiss, letting him know just how much you missed him, how much you loved him, how truly excited you were to see him underneath your layers of exhaustion.

He never let go of your hand, managing to carry both your dance bag and the bag he’d haphazardly packed before basically running to the airport in one hand. The two of you looked at each other, the conversation slowly flowing into non-work related things. It was like he could see the weight lifting off your shoulders. His presence alone bringing some sort of peace to you. He knew you needed this, and in a way he needed it too.

And when Valentine’s day finally rolled around, he’d made sure to pull out the stops. You’d woken up to breakfast in bed, a ribbon-wrapped box with an expensive necklace, flowers, flowers, and more flowers. You’d done what you could for him, too. Getting him some new rings and scarves, a sentimental handwritten note filled with words of adoration and love. For part of the day, the two of you stayed in your tangled sheets. Fingers tracing bare skin and soft kisses. Whispers of love and arms wrapped around bodies.

When the evening came, Ji-yong had told you to dress nice. The two of you ended up at your favorite restaurant, the first nice place you took him to when he came to visit you for the first time. Of course he’d been in LA plenty of times before, but the time with you was different. It was more special than all the rest. And now, he remembered that fondly as he watches you sit at the same table (merely a coincidence, or fate he thinks), your eyes finally filled with that familiar love and light. You looked at him, smiling wide. He could die happy knowing he was ever the cause of that smile.

“I love you, you know.” You said casually, admiring him. He blinks, his cheeks flushing a soft pink that was still noticeable in the warm light. You tilted your head, smiling even more. This is it, you think. This is what you wanted life to be like. You and Ji-yong. You realize that everything else could disappear, fall apart, slip from your grasp, but as long as you had him you’d be okay. This wasn’t the first time marriage crossed your mind, but it was the first time you ever imagined your wedding and confidently believed it would eventually become reality. The idea of walking down the aisle to your Ji-yong. Picturing him looking at you dressed in white. Spending the rest of your life with him. It all seemed like a dream, but it felt like it was all exactly what you wanted.

Ji-yong reaches for your hand over the table. He’s sure he’d never let you go if he had the choice. He looks at you, watching the way you’re glowing even in the dim lights. The way you looked at him enough to make him melt. He knew that you were it for him. You were the person he wanted to come home to every night. The person he wanted to kiss every day before he walked out the door. The person he would hold when he was upset. The person he’d bicker with until you were grey and old. The person he’d have a family with. It wasn’t a question, and there wasn’t another possibility to him. It was all a matter of time. Whether it was tomorrow, next week, next year, whenever. He didn’t know where his life was taking him, but he knew it was all going to be with you.

“I love you, too.”

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #gdragon #kwon jiyong #bigbang x reader #gdragon fanfic #kwon jiyong fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #Spotify

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lvmimis · 29 days ago

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“So which one is it again?”

Luffy’s head rests on his hands, and his straw hat, carefully placed forward on the top of his head to stop it from creasing, almost covers his eyes, but you can see him glance upwards at the sky. Robin pauses at the sound of Luffy’s loud outburst, and you tense, your own head placed against his chest, but she smiles, starting over her guided tour.

In the midst of all the adventure, it can be hard to steal away small moments like this, but as a crew you’ve managed to carve a night of calm in the treacherous Blue, and thus, the lot of you are sprawled haphazardly on the lawn of the Thousand Sunny, gazing at the stars. Even though Nami is the navigator and perhaps knows the stars just as well as Robin does, she lets the latter speak in her soothing voice to demonstrate where to look.

Robin sprouts her helping hands on Luffy’s free shoulder, and has it point. You and Luffy’s mouths draw open in unison as you follow the direction - you have to admit that you were confused as well - to one of the brightest stars in the sky.

“It’s not the brightest star in the galaxy, but it stands out,” she adds. Nami, from just a few feet away, sitting upright with her knees pulled to her chest hums in assent.

Chopper and Usopp make sounds of amazement, laying practically head to head on the grass, as Robin continues to guide you all through the Big Dipper, then point out other visible constellations. Zoro and Sanji have just gotten over arguing about whether or not they saw a shooting star first, and thus have fallen silent, the plume of smoke from Sanji’s cigarette rising high in the air. When you glance over, you’re surprised Zoro hasn’t yet fallen asleep. Jinbe IS asleep, still posed upright and cross legged in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, and Brook sips tea quietly right next to him.

Luffy doesn’t ask another question, and you wonder if he’s bored, his attention span being one of the shortest things you’ve ever seen, but he reaches over and squeezes your hand. It’s an idle action, and when you turn to him, you realize he hasn’t even noticed that he’s done it, so you focus your attention back on the sky.

The stars twinkle and watch you, spectating your small little crew just as fervently as you watch them. Your chest rises and falls with every breath, the air filled salt and sky dust and the love between your crew.

The North Star always points North.

Your head repositions itself to rest in the space over his heart, your free hand on his stomach. He seems to let you sink closer into him and lets out a deeper sigh, filled with contentment. The sound of his heartbeat also guides you, another reorienting force.

“Do you see it?” he whispers to you.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. Your free hand points to the sky and he watches carefully, then sets his gaze back on you. “What?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, realizing he doesn’t have anything to say for why he’s suddenly looking at you with so much interest, then presses his lips gently on your forehead. The kiss is perhaps a little too long - one, then two full seconds, as though he forgets himself in the touch.

But then he turns back to the sky, and so do you.

The stars seem a bit brighter, a bit more curious as they look back at you.

Polaris is always North, the two of you are always Love and your crew is always Everlasting Friendship.

#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #daydreams: op #op fluff #mimi's notes #lumimi

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perfectlyoongi · 10 months ago

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THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... of all the emotions you've ever felt, none were worthy of making you feel alive; that is, until you invited your best friend over to your house after a night out.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jungkook x afab!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... long-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... smut (make-out, dry humping, tit play, bitting, cúm play, mi thinks a liiiil masturbatíon (m receiving), needy jk. if u squint u see that he likes u) - mdni pls !!, alcohol, mature language, best friends to ???, pet names (angel, love). i swear this is not angsty !! ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 3.8k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... this was so f-ing hard oh god hope it's decent lol ♡ enjoy !! - not proof read, eng is not my 1st language xx

What does it feel like to be alive?

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. Between complex relationships and obscene adventures, years of your existence were dedicated to searching for the answer to that question that tormented your mind so much.

It was impossible not to think about something else – you always felt empty, like a puppet in the hands of a destiny that had little interest in you. Any emotion you felt, you felt vaguely, there really was nothing that made you happy or left you crying. You were simply hollow. Nothing existed in you.

As such, you were searching. You desperately searched for emotions and stories that could bring a little meaning to your life. You didn't ask for much, just a small sensation that would make you finally understand why you were here, why you were alive. However, until now, nothing lived up to your expectations – you continued to live day after day with the hope of a change that never seemed to come. But you weren't going to give up.

For now, you just wanted to have fun – who knows; maybe it was in the loud melodies of the club or in the sweet drops of your drink that you would find what you were looking for most. Or even in the hands of your best friend that didn't seem to let go of your body.

The club was full, noisy. The intense smell of alcohol invaded the space, drowned out by the loud and absurd music that echoed through the walls of the place. Different people participated in jovial rituals between rhythmic movements and colorful drinks, filling the club with pure entertainment and euphoria. And you were one of those people.

With your left hand you held a half-empty glass, moving it above your head according to the rhythm of the music that was playing. Your right hand was resting on Jungkook's shoulder, who, with both of his hands, held your hips as he helped you sway to his favorite song.

Jungkook had arrived today from his tour. It was your custom to meet up whenever he returned home, spending hours talking about the singer's adventures, recounting everything he had missed while he was away from your life. And, as usual, you always ended up in a bar or club, wanting to end your day completely drunk on pure ecstasy.

For some time now your words had lost all meaning. Both you and Jungkook were too focused on the alcohol coursing through your veins to hold any conversation. Not that it was necessary. Between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other.

The song was coming to an end, Jungkook slowing your movements as he held your left hand and pulled your glass towards him. After sipping your sweet drink, Jungkook brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost kissing your ear to make himself heard in the midst of that commotion.

“It’s already three in the morning.”

You nodded and, after finishing your drink, you held Jungkook's hand and left the club, bypassing men and women who still insisted on having a good time.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you close to him before starting to walk through the city towards your house.

The night was beautiful. Sky clear of any clouds, some stars shining shyly around a single, full moon. Silence soaked in a gentle summer breeze, the whole city asleep as you and your best friend walked the sleepy streets that led you home.

Small laughs escaped your mouths. Not because any jokes were being told, but because Jungkook insisted on hindering your steps, wanting you to stumble in the air for his entertainment. The path to your house was short, a little bumpy with so much laughter and pushing, but it was genuine, covered with a blanket of pure comfort.

“Wanna come in?”

You were looking for your keys while waiting for a response from Jungkook; with his hands in the pockets of his pants, looking at the building before him, Jungkook smiled openly at your question, having secretly wished that you would invite him in – he had just missed you too much.

In the elevator of your building, you laid your head next to Jungkook, closing your eyes for a moment, as you felt his hand grab your waist to keep you safe. The silence between you was comforting, enveloping you in a small hug of serenity and warmth; in the peace between you, you felt safe, Jungkook's hand always attached to you reminding you that, with him, you had nothing to fear – and that was just one of the many reasons that made you like Jungkook so much.

You turned on the light in your apartment with a tired sigh.

Upon entering your house, your body instantly guided you to the kitchen where you took two beers from your fridge and gave one to Jungkook. After a small sip, you held your friend's hand and took him to your room, where the stereo was eager to make you dance one last time.

You turned on the music quickly, lowering the sound a little as not to disturb the neighbors, and, still drunk with the emotions of the club, you let your body move slowly to the sound of the music.

Jungkook sat on your bed, drinking his beer while replying to messages that had been on his phone since the beginning of the night. He rocked his body unconsciously, his thumb tapping quickly on his cell phone screen, wanting to ditch his obligations as a friend so he could focus entirely on the beer, on the music, on you.

“T’night feels long,” you smiled as you changed the song, your head bobbing to the beat. “In a good way, ‘course.”

“The night only started when we arrived at the club,” Jungkook let out a small laugh and threw his cell phone to the other side of the bed. “If you wan’, we can extend it ‘till dawn.”

You looked at Jungkook and smiled – you sealed his suggestion with a simple curve of your lips and a flutter of your eyelashes.

Even before Jungkook got up, you placed your beer on your bedside table and placed yourself in front of your best friend. Jungkook gently tilted his head to look at you, smile on his lips, tenderness in his hands as he placed them gently on your waist.

You placed your forehead against his while your body slowly danced to the music that echoed throughout the room. Your smile was big, but not bigger than Jungkook's who was still looking at you tenderly, the sparkle in his eyes making him even more adorable.

You had drunk too much – that's what you believed, that's what you repeated to yourself when your hands fell on Jungkook's shoulders and your body decided to sensualize your movements. And Jungkook let you dance. Taking his hands off of you, Jungkook just stared at you as he watched you move so slowly and sensually to the music.

He opened his legs on instinct and you placed yourself between them, rotating your body. You bent down gently, your ass brushing against Jungkook in a movement that was too quick for his liking. He just smiled, his tongue touching his cheek in an attempt to control himself as he saw you turn your body again and take the beer out of his hand and place it next to yours.

You were smiling yourself, teasing Jungkook with your tempting lips. And even before you walked away from him, Jungkook grabbed your hips again, pulling you towards him.

Your foreheads came together once again, your smiles still stuck on your lips. And a silence followed, only broken by the music from your stereo. However, between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other. And, as such, you and Jungkook leaned in at the same time for a kiss.

It started slowly, Jungkook tasting your lips, while he gently squeezed your body; but he quickly became thirsty, hungrier for you. Your hands held Jungkook's face, your fingers caressing your friend's silky hair as he pulled you closer to him, more than was possible.

You moved a little away from Jungkook to breathe, your lips so close that you could still taste him. One tease, two teases and, before you could tease Jungkook's lips a third time, he quickly brought your lips together again, using his tongue to accommodate itself in your mouth.

Jungkook guided you to his lap with his hands, making you sit on his legs and pulling, over and over again, your body close to his. His lips separated from yours and trailed your face, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Jungkook's lips worshipped your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, making you sigh as he gently sucked your essence. Your hand tangled in Jungkook's dark hair, gently pulling some strands when his kisses felt more enjoyable, making him smile against your neck.

Jungkook still had his hands on you, but he wanted more.

Still lost in your scent and focused on your neck, Jungkook's hands went down to your thighs, squeezing you gently before moving them up again, hiding them under your clothes. You sighed when you felt Jungkook's warm fingers on your skin — the way he squeezed you gently made you feel important.

“Kookie…”

“Hm?” He moved his lips back, following the same path as before, loving every corner of your skin. “Tell me, angel.”

You opened your mouth slightly, letting a new sigh escape your lips when Jungkook squeezed you again and pulled you towards him, your intimacy very slightly feeling Jungkook becoming hard.

“We’ still friends, right?”

He kissed you a first time and smiled. He kissed you a second time and ran his hands up your back. He kissed you a third time and nodded.

“Best friends,” he corrected you, smile stuck on his lips, fingers stroking your back.

“Good,” you kissed Jungkook again desperately, as if he were the answer to all the questions that clouded your mind. You were greedy. You only wanted him. You just wanted more of him.

Your hands grabbed Jungkook's shirt and, as quickly as you could, freed him from the fabric, throwing it roughly to the floor of your room. You could finally feel him. Your fingers lingered on your best friend's chest; caressing Jungkook made you feel lost, totally intoxicated by the softness of his skin, by the absurdity of the whole situation – what were you doing?

You decided to be the one to love this time, your lips getting lost on Jungkook's neck while kisses were left as memories of a fantastic night. In the crook of Jungkook's neck, your teeth sank into his hot skin, making him let out a small sigh that lingered forever in your room. More. You wanted to hear more.

Without realizing it, you started to move your hips, resting your forehead on Jungkook's shoulder, the friction forced by you making you sigh softly. And him too. Jungkook held your thighs again, helping your movements, sighing with his eyes closed at the feeling of having you so close to him.

Jungkook was starting to get impatient. He wanted more of you. He needed more of you.

He quickly took off your shirt, wasting no time admiring your body, kissing your skin immediately as his hands toke off your bra. With your breasts exposed, Jungkook became hungrier. His lips began to kiss your collarbone, trailing along your soft skin in paths unknown to him; it was only a matter of time before Jungkook found himself with your breasts.

You let a small moan escape your mouth when Jungkook began worshiping your breasts. Your friend's tender lips kissed your boob thirstily, gently sucking on your skin, carefully biting your very appetizing nipple. Jungkook's mouth was an expert at worshiping you. And you could only moan softly, gently. One of Jungkook's hands squeezed your other breast, his slender fingers pinching, teasing your exposed nipple. He seemed starving, completely hungry for you; Jungkook just wanted more of you, more of your smooth skin, more of your sensual moans.

He lingered on your breasts, making sure every corner of your skin was marked with his saliva. Your moans filled the room, motivating Jungkook to continue, to not stop worshiping you. He was completely intoxicated with you.

“Kook…” your voice came out weak, in a whisper, covered in small moans and teasing sighs. “Jung…kook…”

“Yea, my angel,” Jungkook moved slightly away from your chest, now looking at you for the first time since he had undressed you. His sweet eyes roamed every inch of your skin, admiring how naturally beautiful you really were, feeling more and more needy with each passing second.

You gently moved your hips, pressing your intimacy to Jungkook's, causing you both to let out a small groan.

“Can we…” Jungkook’s fingers traced your body, outlining every curve and mark with a provocative delicacy that only left you sighing deeply. “Can we do… more?”

Jungkook's response came in the form of a kiss, massaging your lips once again while his big hands slid to your ass and squeezed it tightly. You moaned softly when Jungkook bit your neck hard, marking his devotion on your skin, leaving you a memory of a night that had become magical.

Your hands quickly grabbed Jungkook's pants, impatiently unbolting them, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. But you didn't care; you hadn't even fully heard him. You needed more of Jungkook, you just wanted more of Jungkook.

In a quick maneuver you pulled Jungkook's pants, leaving them lying on the floor surrounding his feet, and looked at him. Your eyes shone with desire. Wherever you focused your gaze, you could only see fascination painted on Jungkook's face; his lips were slightly open, begging for one more kiss from you, begging for one more contact with your body; his eyes, so sweet and bright, now consumed by the greed that ran through his body, were locked on you, silently asking you if you wanted more, if you should continue.

For a moment, everything was static.

Your hands were resting on Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook's hands were resting on your hips. Your eyes were lost in Jungkook’s attractive features. Jungkook's eyes were lost in your delicate features.

Just a moment. Just a second.

You were going to continue. You just wanted to continue.

You rushed in for an intense kiss, answering the question dictated by your best friend's eyes. As he kissed you, completely soaked in your essence, intoxicated with your fragrance, Jungkook's hands looked for the button of your pants, wanting to undress you as quickly as possible – he wanted to feel you.

You left Jungkook's lap for mere moments, just long enough for your pants to fall to the floor. You didn't have time to waste. Every second was precious when shared with Jungkook.

When you sat down on Jungkook's lap again, he let out a groan. You were wet, a lot. Your fluids passed through the fabric of your panties. And Jungkook felt it. Through his boxers, Jungkook felt your excitement.

Your hand went down to your friend's boxers as your lips seduced his neck. Above the fabric, your hand caressed Jungkook's penis, feeling how hard he was – because of you. Your thumb gently pressed the tip of Jungkook's cock, gently caressing it stimulated by the pre-cum that painted his boxers.

“F…fuck, ugh!” He could only groan. Feeling your touch, even if it was blocked by a cloth, drove him insane. With his head tilted and his eyes closed, Jungkook allowed himself to be pampered by you.

His mind was completely covered with pure pleasure and euphoria. Your lips kissed Jungkook's neck, your hand caressed Jungkook's cock, and Jungkook felt special at that moment, important.

“I want…” Jungkook’s voice was lost in his moans, trying to release words beyond the profanities that trapped his lips. “I want… you. Agh! More… please.”

You held Jungkook's shoulders with your hands again and, now stimulated by the fluids that stained your underwear, your hips began to move gently. The friction you caused seemed divine, guiding your mind to paths of pure pleasure and desire, creating moans in your mouth that were released weakly. Your voice stuck to Jungkook's skin, fixing the euphoria that ran throughout your body in his chest.

With his hands, Jungkook caressed your thighs. Feeling your soft skin in his hands as you brushed against him drove Jungkook crazy. Sighs and moans filled your room, completely drowning out the music that insisted on dictating the rhythm of your movements – but you didn't hear it, you were too focused on Jungkook to notice what was happening around you.

You kissed Jungkook again, your hands pressing down on his body. Jungkook let himself be guided by you, ending up laying down on your bed while he delighted in your intense kisses and precise movements. Your lips were poisonous, corrupting Jungkook's composure, forcing him to moan into your mouth, to squeeze your thighs, to get harder and harder.

“Jungkook…”

How divine it was to hear his name being pronounced by your sinful lips, adorned by the pleasurable sighs that escaped you. “Yea, my love?” And how sublime it was to call you that word with his hoarse voice, immersed in the desire that was trapped in his intense sighs.

“Tell me…” you moved away from Jungkook’s lips and approached his ear, your lips almost caressing it, your tongue teasing his sensitive skin. “Tell me when you’re close.”

You kissed Jungkook's neck, once, twice, three times, and after marking your teeth in the crook of his neck once more, you straightened your back, freely rocking your body on top of Jungkook.

Your friend's eyes were locked on you, completely mesmerized by your sensual movements. There was something about the way your hips moved, the way you brushed against Jungkook so perfectly, that made him impatient for more, completely desperate for you. But he just looked at you, admiring your every movement, retaining in his memory every sound that came out of you.

You were covered in pleasure. Even though you didn't feel Jungkook's penis in its entirety, you were excited – the friction was good, too good, making your intimacy increasingly wet, increasingly thirsty for Jungkook. You wanted more, you wanted much more. But you just brought your hands to your breasts, caressing them with the memory of Jungkook's touch in your mind, moving your hips faster.

Beautiful. You were simply beautiful. With your eyes closed, head tilted back and lips slightly open, you looked magnificent. With hands on your breasts and intimacy soaked, you were divine. Unique. That image was unique to Jungkook. Something he felt was not for his eyes, too lewd for him to be aware of. But, fuck!, how perfect you were.

“I’m…” Jungkook swallowed a moan before speaking, taking a deep breath when you touched the head of his cock. “I’m… agh!, close… close…!”

You smiled at yourself. So fast it was. So hungry he was.

You kissed Jungkook again once, twice, three times, and before separating your lips from his, your hands held Jungkook's, guiding them to your ass, making you smile.

“Use me however you want.” Your voice sounded so low, so perverse in Jungkook's ear that he couldn't stifle a new moan. You were too much for him.

Squeezing your ass, Jungkook helped increase the speed of your movements, making the pressure on him more intense for both of you.

Both you and Jungkook were out of control. Lost in each other's moans, disoriented by the exaltation that coursed through your bodies as part of you. You hid your face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, his fragrance mixed with his sweat clouding your mind. Nothing else existed at that moment. You felt nothing else at that moment other than the excess pleasure that Jungkook gave you with each pressure on your intimacy.

“Jung… fuck! Jungkook, I’m…”

“I’m close,” he repeated, breathlessly, not fully hearing you. His mind was stuck on the way you stained his boxers, completely focused on how perfectly you caressed his penis. “Close…”

“Fuck! Agh, Jung… U-ugh!” You bit Jungkook again when you felt a knot in your stomach, your head spinning when you finally came. A feeling of freedom washed over you, trapping your lips and staining your panties.

You felt good at that moment, completely fulfilled while Jungkook still kept pace, caressing your intimacy excessively, forcing you to let out moans and meaningless words, totally drunk with pleasure.

“Please…” your voice was hoarse, low, not wanting to be heard in its entirety so well you were feeling. “Jungkook, please, aghn!”

“Again,” Jungkook asked between moans, feeling his limit approaching faster and faster. “My… ugh… name!… again.”

You obeyed out of instinct.

“Jungkook.”

Like an enchantment hovering in the air, Jungkook's name sounded once again, embellished by your tired voice, framed by the pleasure he caused you. And that was all it took. Enticed by your voice, Jungkook couldn't contain his euphoria – pearl strands marked stains on his dark boxers, a long, low grunt accompanying Jungkook's climax as he slowed down his movements until he left you motionless on top of him.

Both you and Jungkook were panting.

Still processing the ecstasy that completely washed over your bodies, you and Jungkook remained lying with your eyes closed – your head resting on Jungkook's chest, his hands still resting on your ass. There was a moment of pause. Brief seconds of silence that were cut by music that was too pure for the occasion.

You finally smiled.

You gently lifted your torso and moved a little away from Jungkook's intimacy, just enough to be able to tease him. Your fingers invaded Jungkook's privacy driven by curiosity and were quickly bathed in his essence. You let that white fluid paint your fingers as you created art on Jungkook's penis with his own essence – up, down, on the head, along the entire length.

A small moan sounded between Jungkook's smile, his head lifting a little to see you.

“What’re you doin’?”

“I just wanna see the damage I did,” you shrugged and continued to stimulate Jungkook with his own cum as you smiled to yourself.

“If you continue, you’ll have to take responsibility.”

“Doesn’t seem that bad.”

You looked at Jungkook innocently, the contrast in your wicked smile being enough to drive your friend crazy once again.

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. And that night, when held in your best friend's arms and drunk on the pleasure he gave you, you almost found the feeling of being alive.

Maybe, but just maybe, the feeling of being alive was similar to the feeling of being worshipped by Jungkook.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

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siriusly-t1red · 1 month ago

Text

Valentines Part 2

Summary: You spend the day in Velaris, making the most of your time together.

CW: Fluff, romance, teasing, smut, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), P in V.

AN: I fear I've become addicted to writing smut...

Part 1

He rolled over and pulled you to his chest. You sighed, feeling content and satisfied. "What a wonderful start to the morning?"

You giggled. "I hope you're not planning on keeping us in bed all day."

"You got to admit it's very tempting to do just that."

You rolled your eyes, climbing off the bed and heading to your wardrobe. "I'm not spending our first Valentines Day together in bed."

"Fine."

Azriel chuckled, his voice still husky from the morning's activities. "You always know how to get your way, don't you?"

You turned around, a playful smile on your face as you pulled out a dress from your wardrobe. "I just know how to make the most of our time together."

He grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "Alright, alright. I'll get ready. But you owe me a rematch tonight."

You laughed, the sound filling the room with warmth. "Deal."

After a quick bath and a change of clothes, you both found yourselves walking hand in hand through the bustling streets of the city. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread and blooming flowers. It was the perfect day for a romantic adventure.

Your first stop was the city's famous art museum. The grand building stood tall, its architecture a blend of modern and classical styles. As you entered, the cool, quiet atmosphere welcomed you, a stark contrast to the lively streets outside.

You wandered through the galleries, hand in hand, admiring the masterpieces that adorned the walls, making note of which ones to talk with Feyre about later. Azriel's eyes lit up as he saw a painting by his favorite artist. "Look at this," he said, pulling you closer to a vibrant landscape.

"It's beautiful," you agreed, leaning against him.

As you continued your tour, you stumbled upon a secluded garden within the museum. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a golden glow on the stone benches. You sat down, the warmth of the sun enveloping you.

"This is perfect," Azriel said, wrapping his arm around you. "Just like you."

You smiled, feeling the love and contentment in his words. "Thank you for this day, Azriel. It's everything I could have hoped for."

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm just getting started."

After the museum, you decided to explore the city's hidden gems. You took a leisurely stroll through a charming neighborhood filled with quaint cafes and boutique shops. The cobblestone streets added a touch of old-world charm to your adventure.

You stopped at a small café, its outdoor seating bathed in the afternoon sun. "Let's have some coffee," you suggested, pulling Azriel towards a table.

As you sipped your coffee, you watched the world go by. The city was alive with activity, yet in that moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones there.

"I love moments like this," Azriel said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just us, no work or distractions."

"Me too," you replied, reaching across the table to take his hand.

As the sun began to set, you made your way to the city's observation deck. The sky was a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, painting a breathtaking backdrop for your evening.

You stood at the edge, the cool breeze ruffling your hair. Azriel wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Happy Valentine's Day, princess," he whispered.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Azriel," you replied, turning in his arms to kiss him.

The city lights twinkled below, mirroring the stars above. It was a magical end to a perfect day, one that you knew you would cherish forever.

As you left the observation deck, hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and adventure you shared with Azriel. "Ready for that rematch?" you asked, a playful grin on your face.

He chuckled, pulling you close. "Always. But first, dinner."

And so, your romantic city adventure continued, each moment a testament to the love and joy you found in each other's arms.

For dinner, you chose a cozy rooftop restaurant with a view of the city skyline. The soft glow of string lights illuminated the space, creating an intimate atmosphere.

As you sat down, Azriel reached across the table to take your hand. "I'm glad we're spending this day together," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch. "Me too. It's been perfect."

The evening was filled with laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances. The food was delicious, but it was the company that made the night truly special.

As the night drew to a close, you stood at the edge of the rooftop, the city lights twinkling below you. Azriel wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, turning in his arms to kiss him.

The night was cool, but you felt warm and content in his embrace. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that you knew you would cherish forever.

As you left the restaurant, hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and adventure you shared with Azriel. "Ready for that rematch now?" you asked, a playful grin on your face.

He chuckled, pulling you close. "Of course."

As you stepped through the door of the townhouse, you sighed happily. Azriel was quick to pull you close, pressing his lips to yours. "You're perfect, princess," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the kiss with equal fervor. "So are you," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest.

He lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom, his shadows swirling around the room, setting a sensual mood.

He gently placed you on the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You could feel his arousal, his desire for you, and it sent a thrill through your body.

"I'm going to make love to you tonight," he said, his voice soft. "I want to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me."

"I want that too," you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He began his descent down your body, his lips trailing along your skin, his hands exploring every curve.

You closed your eyes, the sensations overwhelming. His touch was gentle and loving, yet filled with a need that only you could satisfy.

You felt his breath on your neck as he whispered, "I love you, princess."

"I love you too," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

He captured your mouth with his, his tongue sliding against yours. He was a skilled lover, and you couldn't help but moan at his expert touch.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips trailing along your jaw.

"I want you," you gasped, your cunt already throbbing for him.

He smiled, his hand moving to the hem of your dress, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric. "Good girl," he growled, his shadows swirling around you, teasing your sensitive skin.

"Az," you gasped, arching into his touch.

"So beautiful," he said, his lips pressing against your collarbone. "So perfect."

You moaned as his fingers teased your entrance, his thumb circling your clit.

"Please," you breathed, desperate for his touch.

He obliged, slipping a finger into your soaked core, eliciting a cry from your lips.

"You're so wet," he said, his voice rough with lust. "So perfect."

He began to move his finger, rubbing your walls and making you squirm. Your hands grabbed the sheets, desperately needing something to hold onto.

"More," you pleaded, feeling the pressure building in your stomach.

"Patience, princess," he said, adding another finger.

You cried out as the tension snapped, your climax washing over you.

He guided you through the aftershocks, his thumb still stroking your clit.

"That's it, baby," he murmured. "Come for me."

You panted, trying to catch your breath.

"Now," he said, his voice low and commanding.

He moved away, his shadows lifting you up and stripping you.

You moaned as his shadows stroked and teased you, their cool touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"You're so wet," he said, his breath tickling the skin on your neck.

"Only for you," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

He captured your lips with his, his tongue dominating your mouth.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. You tugged it up, eager to feel his skin against yours.

He obliged, pulling the shirt off and tossing it aside. His muscles flexed under your touch, his scars a testament to his bravery and strength.

You broke away from the kiss, trailing your lips down his chest. Your tongue darted out, tasting his skin.

"Princess," he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You continued your journey, dropping to your knees before him. Your hands worked quickly, removing his pants and underwear, revealing his impressive cock.

"Fuck," he breathed as you took him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

His grip on your hair tightened, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

You bobbed your head, taking his length deeper and deeper into your mouth.

"Just like that, princess," he moaned, his hips jerking.

You continued, sucking and licking, feeling his cock harden in your mouth.

"I'm close," he said, his voice strained.

"Come for me," you murmured, pulling back just enough to speak.

He threw his head back, a growl rumbling in his chest. He spilled his seed, filling your mouth.

You swallowed, the taste salty and warm.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice husky.

He pulled you up, his hands gripping your waist as he tossed you onto the bed.

"My turn," he said, a wicked smirk on his lips.

You were quick to spread your legs, desperate for his touch.

"So impatient," he tsked, his hands caressing your thighs.

"Az," you pleaded, your body aching for his.

"Patience," he said again, his voice firm.

His shadows moved to tease and torment your nipples, while his lips pressed against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs.

You arched your back, desperate for more.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your core.

You cried out as his tongue swirled around your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs.

"Az," you moaned, your fingers gripping the sheets.

"Yes, princess?" he asked, his voice muffled by your folds.

"Don't stop," you gasped, feeling the tension building in your stomach.

He continued his ministrations, his tongue lapping at your slick folds.

You felt the familiar pressure build, the spring ready to snap.

"Fuck," you cried out, your climax hitting you hard and fast.

Azriel guided you through the aftershocks, his tongue continuing its relentless assault.

"Please," you gasped, desperate for him to fill you.

"Beg," he growled, his breath hot against your skin.

"Please," you begged, your voice strained.

He smirked, his shadows retreating and his cock nudging at your entrance.

"So perfect," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips.

He thrust into you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You both moaned at the sensation.

"Fuck," you gasped, feeling him stretch and fill you.

He started to move, his cock pumping in and out of you.

"I'm not going to last long," he said, his voice husky.

"Please," you pleaded, needing release.

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper.

You could feel him pulse inside you, his cock throbbing as he neared his climax.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice strained.

You felt the pressure build, the tension ready to snap.

"Az!" you cried out as the spring finally released, your climax washing over you.

His rhythm became erratic as he followed you over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

You lay there, panting, feeling satisfied and spent.

"That was incredible," he said, his breath tickling your skin.

"It was," you agreed, smiling contentedly.

He pulled out of you and rolled to the side, wrapping his arm around you.

"Thank you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Today has been perfect."

"It has," you said, snuggling into him.

"Happy Valentine's Day, princess."

You smiled, the day's adventures finally catching up to you. You drifted off, your heart full and content, knowing that no matter what challenges life threw at you, the two of you would always be there for each other.

Because you were mates.

Forever.

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #x reader #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #x you

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twobluejeans · 2 years ago

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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 10: xoxo, barbie series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 10! i recommend listening to marjorie by taylor swift to this chapter so u feel the vibe.

TWITTER, july 19

INSTAGRAM, july 19

liked by camilamorrone, lewishamilton, and 6,348,164 others

yourinstagram just wrapped up the european leg of the Eras Tour, and my heart is bursting with gratitude and emotion. this journey has been an extraordinary one, and i couldn't have asked for a more incredible audience to share it with.

last night, we closed out this chapter in the city where my mother was born, and i have no words to express how special it was. the energy, the love, and the connection we shared in that moment made it the best show of my life.

to everyone who came out to the shows, sang along, danced, and created memories with us, thank you from the bottom of my heart. your passion and support have been the driving force behind every performance, and i’m endlessly grateful for the moments we've shared together.

this tour has been a journey of self-rediscovery and growth, and i’m so lucky to have such an amazing team by my side. the dedication, creativity, and hard work they've poured into every detail have made this experience truly magical.

as we move forward to the next leg of the tour, i carry with me the love and warmth of each city we've visited. your energy and enthusiasm have fueled my spirit, and i can't wait to see where the Eras Tour takes us next.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being a part of this adventure. let’s continue to make memories, share moments, and celebrate the magic of music together. here's to the journey ahead! 🦋🫧

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INSTAGRAM, july 20

yourstory 8h

viewed by henrycavill, aarontaylorjohnson, and 4,563,134 others

yourstory 8h

viewed by carlossainz, gretagerwing, and 4,17,123 others

INSTAGRAM, july 20

liked by landomybbgirl, f1ewis, and 612,122 others

enews click link in bio to read everything we know so far about the controversy that is y/n l/n’s and charles leclerc’s breakup.

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dutchverstappen_ n e ways…

ripy/nsferrariera CAUSE KARMA IS MY BFFFF

leclerc16ferrari i love charles but to say this isn’t well deserved would be lying 💀

INSTGRAM STORIES, july 20

yourstory 58m

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INSTAGRAM july 21

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yourinstagram happy birthday to my guardian angel! today, as i celebrate another year of life, i can't help but remember the incredible woman who brought me into this world. we share the same birthday, and though you're not physically here with me, i feel your presence in every beat of my heart.it’s been 15 years since you left us, but your love, guidance, and beautiful spirit have never faded from my life. you were not just my mom; you were my best friend, my confidante, and my rock. losing you at the age of 12 was the most challenging thing i’ve ever faced, but i’ve carried your strength and love with me every step of the way.you were there for all my firsts - my first day of school, my first dance recital, my first guitar lesson. you taught me kindness, compassion, and the importance of staying true to myself. your unwavering support and belief in me still resonates deeply, even when life feels overwhelming. i often find myself looking up at the night sky, knowing that you're shining down as one of the brightest stars. your light continues to guide me, reminding me that no matter how tough life gets, i have your love to carry me through.so, here's to you, mom - the strongest, most beautiful soul i’ve ever known. thank you for being my guardian angel and for making every birthday feel like a celebration of your love and spirit.

wishing i could hug u one last time,

your y/n/n. 🤍

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fernandoalonso she’s watching over you and she’s so proud of how far you come. she’s by your side always, front row at all of your concerts. forever with you wherever you go, your guardian angel

bellahadid she’s so proud of u, babe. we all are 🖤

sabrinacarpenter happy birthday 💗

TWITTER, july 21

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yourinstagram oh god, i’ve cried at least 3 times trying to type this so hopefully fourth times the charm.

as i take a moment to reflect on my unforgettable journey on the set of Barbie, my heart is overflowing with emotions. i can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the incredible opportunity i was given and the remarkable people who made it all possible.

to the extraordinary visionary, greta gerwing, thank you for trusting me with the role of Barbie and for guiding me through this artistic voyage. barbie played a big role in my life as a little girl, i adored every barbie film series and for you to chose me as you barbie is something i will always be in debt to you for. your passion and creativity was infectious, and i’m forever grateful for the chance to collaborate with such a talented director. the experience has left an indelible mark on my soul.

and to my lovely cast-mates, fellow Barbies, and Kens, you are the heart and soul of this film. each one of you brought a unique and irreplaceable energy to the set, and i in awe of your dedication and talent. together, we laughed, cried, and supported one another, creating a bond that will last a lifetime. thank you for being my rock on-screen and off-screen. you are my true stars. ⭐️

the memories we've made during the filming process will forever be etched in my heart. from the exhilarating moments of shooting magical scenes to the heartwarming conversations behind the scenes, every single second has been a treasure. the friendships that blossomed during this journey are the kind that go beyond the silver screen, and i feel incredibly blessed to have shared this chapter with each one of you.

i can't help but be proud of what we've created together. the love, effort, and dedication poured into Barbie shine through every frame. it’s my hope that this film will not only entertain but also inspire and touch the hearts of all who watch it. i want each person to experience the same excitement and joy that filled my heart while bringing Barbie to life.

thank you to the entire production team, crew members, and everyone behind the scenes for your tireless efforts in making this dream come true. your passion and commitment to the project have been awe-inspiring, and i’m forever grateful for your hard work and dedication. 🙏

so here's to Barbie and to all of you who made it an unforgettable adventure. let’s spread its magic far and wide, and may it bring joy and wonder to audiences around the world. thank you, from the depths of my heart, for being a part of this incredible journey. i love you all!

BARBIE is out now in theaters everywhere. 💕

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dualipa 🎀💞

fernandoalonso_offical Felicidades cariño, estoy increíblemente orgullosa de ti. Te extraño

sabrinacarpenter i’m sick of kens i need an alan

yourinstagram sabrinacarpenter agreed.

gretagerwing Fourth pic 🥹 my babies!! Love you Guys!!

americaferrira obsessed with you and your performance! can’t wait for everyone to see it

florencepugh IVE RETURNED A CHANGED WOMAN AFTER WATCHING BARBIE

y/nsreputation she’s in her barbie era

lolaransdell_fan33 am i the only one who thought ryan gosling was kinda too old to play ken? like the age difference between y/n and him is weird too💀

yourinstagram lolaransdell_fan33 he was and is kenough.

robertdowneyjr Proud of you, kiddo. Anyways, go watch Oppenheimer in theaters today 🖤💣

yourinstagram robertdowneyjr how do i pin this comment??

TWITTER, july 21

ally’s radio 📻: YASS WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!! what r our thoughts?

@incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #heartbreak on tour #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #charlesleclerc #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x platonic!reader #landó norris x platonic!reader #f1 instagram au #f1 wags #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #forumla one #taylor swift

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ckret2 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor.

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say.

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic)#grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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disneyremnants · 2 years ago

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As you make your way through the Star Tours: The Adventures Continue queue, keep an eye out for this cage with some robotics birds in it. These Bird Droids have been a part of Star Tours since the beginning, initially perching above a doorway in the original attraction's queue!

#Disney Remnants #Disney #Forgotten Disney #Disney history #Disney facts #Disney parks #Walt Disney World Resort #Disney's Hollywood Studios #Echo Lake #Star Tours: The Adventures Continue #Star Tours

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emaadsidiki · 2 years ago

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STAR WARS 👽🚀⛺ Disney's Hollywood Studios ✴◕‿◕✴

#And someday we'll look back and say it was fun #disney #walt disney #star wars #star tours #disney world #walt disney world #the adventure continues #disney hollywood studios #walt disney world resort #florida

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bumpscosity · 2 years ago

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Ok i was gonna make a post abt star tours but then I did what I usually do and infodumped abt something vaguely related to it in the tags but my tags are better than the original post so just look down here ⬇️⬇️⬇️

#i actually do wanna say that I think it’s rly funny that they can’t put the actual starspeeder in anything bc star tours is in such a #funky place in canon like it exists outside of the laws of reality #like adventures continue has the starspeeder 1000 bc it’s supposed to be from before the og star tours which was the 3000 #but like. now there’s destinations from all over the timeline #like adventures continue was supposed to take place during the prequels but you can go to og trilogy and sequel trilogy scenes in it lmao #the insane implications of star tours in terms of canon and timeline is a video essay in of itself #sassy speaks #sw

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overtrred28 · 1 year ago

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Gnomeo and Juliet | alanna kennedy x reader

Summary; Two players steal each other's hearts and keep it from everyone because they know how controversial their relationship could be to their club’s rivalry. OR Y/N and Alanna soft launching their relationship over time until they decide to share it. *Features social media posts.*

Pairings; Alanna Kennedy x Manchester United reader

Words; 2.2k

Warnings; swearing (i think that's it)

A/N; i literally love alanna so much and don't think there are enough posts about her so naturally i write one. i just thought this was cute and different from a chealse v arsenal rivalry (though i really love those). enjoy and please give it some love and feedback xx

Lioness star Y/N Y/L/N set to leave her club of four years, Brighton & Hove Albion W.F.C, and join Manchester United W.F.C on a two year contract at the beginning of the 2023/2024 season.

You had really valued your time at Brighton, starting your senior career there and blossoming into a strong forward for both the club and the England Senior Women’s team, better known as The Lionesses.

But when the offer from Manchester United came in at the end of last season, you knew it was the right move. Leaving the team you had come to know and love was tough to say the least but the adventure before you sounded a lot more exciting. So during the break before pre-season began, you made the move to Manchester and took a few days to settle into your new home and surroundings.

Manchester was very different from Brighton; no beach and much bigger city life, but it was a good different. You had found that everything in Manchester was so much closer, and in great reach of your new club and housing.

You had officially settled into your new home, very quickly making it feel just like your last one, then decided to go exploring through the city. The first thing a person would normally do would probably be going shopping or searching for a new café to become the regular, but you had spotted the Manchester Art Gallery and decided to go in.

It was quiet, as expected for midday on a Wednesday when most people were at work, but you found it peaceful. It was a break from the regular hustle and bustle of your regular life as a professional footballer.

It wasn’t until a particular painting caught your eyes that you realised someone else was in there, because you quite literally walked into them.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” You apologised quickly to the taller person, picking up their phone you had knocked out of their hand, from the floor. “Here…” Your voice trailed off as you met bright blue eyes while handing them their phone.

“It’s all good, thank you.” The woman met your eyes and she also felt the world pause around her, you were no longer in the gallery but just in a moment of time with each other.

“Sorry the painting distracted me.” You snapped out of your trance and nodded to the painting on the wall; the story of Romeo and Juliet portrayed on a large canvas.

“Well it is quite captivating.” Alanna spoke, still looking at you, now at the side of your face as you looked at the painting.

“It is.” Your eyes fell back to hers and realised she was still staring at you, a slight blush rose to your cheeks, both smiling at each other. “Hi.” You extended your hand out, indicating a handshake.

“Hi.” She laughed at your chivalry for a second before shaking your hand. “Nice to meet you.” She spoke softly in the quiet gallery.

“You too.” You smiled up at her, quite literally encapsulated by her.

That was three weeks ago before you decided to get coffee after finishing a self led tour of the gallery, then the conversation kept going and you ended up at dinner together, continuing to learn about one another until the night ended.

What you didn’t seem to bring up was that you both knew who each other were, but there was a mutual agreement that it didn’t matter. You weren’t professional footballers who had gone up against multiple times in the past at both national and club level, you were just two people who met and wanted to get to know each other.

Now you were both deep into pre pre-season, you at Man United, her at Man City, and there wasn’t as much time to meet up for fun dates every night, now relying on text messages and late night calls before bed to catch up.

The first kiss took a while to get to, but boy was it worth it.

You had both decided to keep whatever this was between the two of you, soaking in the quiet moments shared in one anothers apartments and over long phone calls. It was still labelled a friendship, you both knew you wanted more, both scared of what the other might say if you revealed your feelings. But when you both had a free long weekend, you decided to take Alanna down to Brighton and show her your old home, soaking in the last of the warm weather before winter began to creep in.

It was the best decision you could have made, relishing in being able to spend time together away from your normal lives. You had rented a small air bnb right near the beach, enjoying the solitude together as you cooked together and watched the sun rise and set each day by the ocean.

It was on the second night after dinner that she finally made her move, unable to swallow the feelings bubbling inside her. You sat on the beach alone as you waited for Alanna to join, wrapping your arms around yourself to shelter from the cool breeze.

A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders and a warm body nuzzled into your side, a small smile on your face as you rested your head on her shoulder, Alanna looking down at you as you watched the waves crash. No words were said for what felt like ages, the only sounds being the waves and the seagulls heading off to bed.

“Y/N.” Alanna suddenly spoke, a thick Aussie accent breaking the silence.

“Hmmm.” You hummed in response, keeping your head in its place.

“I want more than this.” Her statement made you move your head, turning it to meet her blue eyes.

“More?” You spoke softly.

“More.” She nodded with a small smile before she moved her hands from her legs, twisting to cup your face before moving closer. You thought she was going to kiss you straight away but her forehead came to rest on yours, both closing your eyes as you basked in the silence.

“Just kiss me already.” You breathed out and she smiled before closing the gap, joining your lips in a strong kiss. Her hands cupped your face, yours held her waist before trailing up to meet her face. It was passionate but soft, saying so much without any words and your heart grew.

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Since you were both heavily in the public eye, it was an easy decision for you both to keep this new found relationship to yourselves, not wanting to receive any unwanted attention from the media, fans and even your own teammates.

You were able to keep it that way for a while, without you guys being on the same national team or at the same club keeping this secret relationship a secret was quite easy. And since no one thought you would even know each other personally, there were no fans sifting through evidence to put two and two together. Of course though, you both wanted to show each other off, you were so happy and so was Alanna, so maybe a soft launch would be best until you decided to go fully public.

It started small.

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alanna kennedy almost as good as home

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Your teammates began to ask about the secretive posts, hammering you about it in the locker rooms at training, Alanna's friends and teammates doing the same.

“When are you going to tell us more about these mystery posts?” Mary had asked Alanna while she was tying her boots before training. Alanna paused for a second before sitting up and looking up at the other Australian.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alanna simply shrugged with a straight face before standing up and walking away.

“Oi mate.” Ella Toone had caught your attention as you walked out to the carpark after a late friday night training session. You paused and turned around, waiting for her to catch up, instantly wrapping an arm around your shoulder as she met you.

“What’s up?” You turned to her as you walked towards your cars.

“Few of us are going round Zelly’s to watch a movie, you in?” She asked with hopeful eyes.

“Sorry love, got plans.” You apologised, knowing you had a certain blonde already waiting for you at your apartment.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with a possible mystery woman you refuse to tell us about, would it?” Ella asks with a suggestive smirk, nudging your shoulder as you remain stoic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You simply shrugged and patted her shoulder as you let go of her, walking to your car door. “Goodnight Tooney.” You waved before getting in and racing home to Alanna, preparing for your own movie night of Gnomeo and Juliet and a weekend spent in each other's arms.

The day had come, the one you and Alanna refused to talk about until the night before.. It was the Manchester derby day. The day every City and United fan had waited for and the one you and Alanna dreaded.

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y/n.y/l/n.. Derby day. Let's bring it on home red's! ❤️

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alannakennedy The day we've all be waiting for. Come on blue! 💙

Sure you had come up against each other in the past at both club and national level, but you had yet to do it since being in a relationship together. So it was going to be different this time; harder. You both decided it would be best for your teams if you didn't interact with one another from the moment you joined your teams for the match, and until that final whistle blew.

The plan was going well during the first half of the match; Alanna had started with City in the defensive line and you were sitting on the bench waiting to get subbed on. Katie Zelem had secured the United side a goal through a penalty early on, but City fired back and took the lead 2-1 at halftime.

You got subbed on for Nikita Parris at the very beginning of half time, taking her place as the left forward and a strong striker. Though this became a slight issue because of who was currently defending the City goal and in charge of blocking your shots at goal; your very own girlfriend. But in that moment you had to act like you didn’t know who she was on a personal level, right now you were just opposing players who both wanted their teams to win.

It was hard for you both to act like that, stealing glances on the pitch, brushing past each other ever so slightly without anyone noticing too much. You had both been able to get away with this secret relationship so far because you’ve haven’t had to be in the same place yet, but maybe it was time for that to change.

The final whistle blew and City had won 3-1, your side not being able to score any further goals despite your best efforts. You looked around at all your teammates, defeated looks all over as City celebrated together before exchanging handshakes with the other team.

You and Alanna had purposefully left each other till last, waiting until you could be alone with each other in a busy and full stadium. You had finally found the blonde Australian and began walking towards her and she finally locked eyes with you. Seconds before you had very different expressions, one filled with happiness and one filled with disappointment. But as soon as you got closer the one expression you both shared was one filled with love, and your heart melted as she brought you straight into a hug rather than a friendly handshake.

Her hands wrapped around your waist as her slightly taller frame leant down, your hands found their way around her neck before you buried your head in her neck. An instant feeling of warmth and security flowed through both of your bodies as you hugged, Alanna pressing a soft kiss to your neck as she buried her own face in your shoulder.

Confused looks fell to both sets of teams at the interaction, at first because of the more than friendly hug and second because of the familiarity they could sense between the two of you.

“I’m so proud of you.” You murmured, still holding tight around Alanna’s neck.

“You played so well, it was a tough game.” She spoke back instantly, squeezing your waist before slowly pulling back to look at you. You smiled at her as you exited the hug, genuinely happy for her but still very upset your own team couldn’t secure the win like they wanted.

“You should go celebrate.” You nodded to the City team who gathered in the middle, preparing for their post-match huddle, your team doing the same further down on the pitch, all players still watching the interaction with lost eyes.

“I’ll find you after and we’ll go home together.” Alanna nodded to you, looking down to your now interlocked hands, a small laugh leaving her lips. “This is going to be everywhere tonight.” She looked back up at you as a small smile grew on your face.

“Definitely.” You laughed too. “Are you okay with that?” You raised a brow at her.

“Yeah. I’m ready to show off my girl.” She winked playfully at you, now both of you laughing, shaking your head at her before playfully pushing her shoulder and walking over to your team.

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alannakennedy my girl in red

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THE END

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