#A Tad Nerdy

[memory-and-sky]

please enjoy my assorted Riley Poole sketches♥️ i wasn’t going to post this anywhere, because they’re not my “professional” or “polished” art, but i might as well. the longer i look at them the more i hate them so i’m just gonna post them now.

babygirl♥️

[eresder]

Me yay

[atadnerdy]

R.I.P Bill Cobbs - A Tad Nerdy

R.I.P Bill Cobbs - This is such sad news. #billcobbs #rip #r.i.p #restinpeace #actor #ripbillcobbs #sadnews #news

[randomfanficreader13]

fangirls. They’re talking about fangirls. (I know because I am one of them)

[weird-god666]

Doodle page! Cropped and better looking under the cut!

BONUS DOODLE OF TAD X STAN BECASE, I LOVE THEM AND I LOVE YOU!

(btw the human next to human Bill is my human tad. Working on a full body.)

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 01/14/2024

Hey Nerdie! Posting kind late tonight?

Yeah, I worked this weekend. Not bad as far as weekends go.

That’s good. Anything new?

Making a list of Pedro and Oscar shows and movies I wanna watch while I’m off for the next few days.

Going to see a movie with my Mom Tuesday. Also she wants to come over my house to watch “The Grey Man” because it has Regé-Jean Page in it. The more stuff I watch with my mom, the more is becomes apparent that I get my fangirling honestly. 🤔 Interesting. She would never say she is, but I know. Anytime they almost call security on you at a convention, you’re fangirling too hard.

You still have that pickle…can you get rid of it?

That gherkin has grown on me, but I may find something else. 👀

I mean…but what….should we not complain about the pickle then?

Complain about what you want doesn’t mean I’m going to change it. 😎 Or maybe I will. 🤗

Oh dear…I don’t like the glint in your eye. You write anything this week?

I put out two fics this week. One was angsty and sad? I think. 🤔 Not really sure how to describe it but I like it. It’s my first Santiago Garcia fic. Titled “Canto para mí mismo / I sing for myself.” Grief and PTSD. Not heavy at all. It will be a 4 part series.

Then I followed that up with Marcus Pike smut. I wanted to add to the Pike Pool. I had thots about Marcus and “She’s Under the Weather” was written.

I also gave two dissertations on Oscar Isaac’s facial hair and what’s the best date a PP character could surprise you with? @rhoorl and @i-own-loki game me much to think about and to write. 🤣

I’m finishing up a challenge. I may be able to finish it on time. 👀 It’s just going to smell like old pita bread and metal. Like I didn’t know what else to do with the material! The time period is messing me up. 😑

I thought of a short series for Marcus from a movie tag game I think. The thots were thotting with @magpiepills and @maggiemayhemnj so when we have an angsty sexy menace of a Marcus Pike, see these two for your concerns. 🫣

I also fell into whatever Trash Panda pillow fort Dieter has made. I’m working on chapter 4 of “Weddings 101 Dieter.” I had some notes from some comment I made about Dieter doing a solo activity that has now blossomed into smut to the music of Donna Summer. Because if you’re gonna do it, make it disco 🪩 Lastly, working on my Bubble AU where Dieter picks OFC to bunk with him to help him sleep. That’s not going to turn into anything is it? Maybe sweet, maybe manipulative, maybe smut, maybe silly 😝

I think just for @mysterious-moonstruck-musings I’ll include a pomelo in one of my future fics. Might be in the Javier Peña one we talked about or a different one. 😘 We also mentioned another project idea with different food:

A plantain as a prop would be hilarious with the line randomly chosen, “I thought everyone knew how to use one of those, you don’t?” 🤣🤣🤣

The comments and tags are where the comedy gold is. 😂😂😂 I think we also mentioned a family gathering 😂

Good grief Nerdie….should we even ask if there’s anything else?

Still working on school. Took a break from the Statistics class was frustrating me very much. Instead working through a scholarship and leadership class. 😒 I might be useful one day, but likely not.

Have a great week everyone and stay warm!

Love Nerdie! ❤️🪩

[lilyimmsim]

going through and editing my posts because i made some unintelligible mistakes that were almost impossible to read through oopsies

[nerdierholler]

Sewing is done. I used three strands of embroidery thread. I wish the variegation pattern was shorter so there were more frequent color changes. I also thought about starting white and going to red but the in between options weren’t great to stitch together a bunch of colors on my own. The pinks were just too light and pastel. Also totally measured my thread wrong and thought I would get back to the lighter color for the beginning of the book but I had a lot of extra. I think I’m happy with it though. We’ll see how I feel once the whole thing is put together.

[mangostar]

decided to search up weird al and. Yeah I've never heard of him b4

[minminambus]

Eek! I’ve never been involved in a school/campus like this! I am unfamiliar, but excited to be involved with the Audubon!

[boatemlag]

a really important distinction between mumbo jumbo the man and mumbo jumbo the monster is that like cc!mumbo is NOT a gamer? hes a tad nerdy but hes more of a jock. you will meet the type in filmworld occasionally and he does enjoy computer specs and such and clearly enjoys the puzzle of redstone but he got into youtube via bmx videos he has always been a jocknerd. not a geeknerd. now. c!mumbo is like the least athletic man of all time if you asked him to do a one block jump he would crumple into a sort of soggy paper ball and wither away. and he is VERY nerdy about redstone even if he's relatively specialized into machines and not farms, hes still interested in all mechanics. c!mumbo jumbo is, also, of course, very into deathpranks, as is normal for hermits. its enriching.

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect - 2

3.6k words

18+ only

Warnings: sexual content, teasing, oral sex [male receiving]

Summary: Fred continues to try to woo his favorite prefect, but he doesn't expect her to reciprocate his teasing (shy Fred, sub (kind of) Fred)

I intended for the last part to be a one-shot, but it was more popular than I expected. Here is a part two -- there might be more!

Link to part 1

----

It was Monday morning, and you had realized over the weekend that you still had Fred's scarf. After your encounter with him on Saturday night, you were keen on keeping your distance. You weren't just going to run into his arms, you were too stubborn for that. He was going to have to work for it.

In typical Monday fashion, you got dressed and gathered your backpack before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. This would be the first time that you had been in the same room as Fred since Saturday, and the thought made your stomach dance with nervous butterflies.

You had told Beatrice about your semi-hook up with Fred, but you had kept the information from Cho. You knew that she was only going to judge you and advise you not to associate with someone like Fred. You had no need for advice like that.

As you took your seat at breakfast, you noticed that a certain ginger was absent. His twin was at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly about something with a group of younger students. They were almost always together, and this immediately struck you as strange.

You tried not to think about it, hurriedly eating your breakfast so you could get to Potions early. You had a question about the assignment that was given over the weekend, and you intended to ask Snape about it before class began.

"I'll see you later," you said to your group before departing. You looked around for Fred again, but he still wasn't in the Great Hall.

You stepped into the hallway, adjusting your leather backpack on your shoulders as you turned to head toward the Potions classroom. As you passed an empty classroom, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.

You let out a small shriek, obviously startled. Standing in front of you was Fred Weasley, red hair perfectly tousled and a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. His black eye was still visible, but it was less prominent than before. 

"Sorry to startle you, birdie," he said, a grin finding its way to his lips. "I went out this morning to pick these for you."

He handed you the wildflowers, the same soft look in his eye that was present on Saturday night. You took the bouquet, unable to suppress your own smile. That's why he wasn't at breakfast.

"Thank you, Weasley," you said, inspecting the flowers. They were still wet with morning dew and a bit wilted, as the fall weather did not lend itself well to flourishing botanicals.

"I wanted to walk you to class this morning," he said, taking a step closer to you.

"Sure, but that doesn't make you my boyfriend," you replied, reminding him of your relationship. Or rather, your lack thereof. 

"I know, darling," he said, finally close enough to put his arms around your waist. "I know that you're stubborn. But you will be mine, I promise."

You set the flowers on a nearby desk, placing your own hands on his shoulders and running them upwards to lace into his hair. You stared at each other for a few moments, taking each other in.

You loved the way he looked in his uniform. His Gryffindor tie was always just a tad crooked, but you found it endearing. He looked rather preppy with his sweater on today underneath his robes. You pictured Fred in a pair of a nerdy glasses for a moment, causing a giggle to escape your lips.

"Is something funny, birdie?" he asked, pulling you closer so he could talk right into your ear.

"Just thinking about how devastatingly sexy you would look in a pair of wide-rimmed glasses," you teased, standing on your toes to place a kiss on his neck. You lingered just long enough to sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.

You pulled back for a moment, taking in his expression. His cheeks were red, his mouth parted just a tad. Fred Weasley....blushing? That was a sight you had never seen before.

This only encouraged you to continue the teasing. He had done the same to you, so why not return the favor?

"Does someone like dirty talk?" you asked, your voice velvety and seductive. You slipped your hand down to his neck, gripping his throat lightly. "Naughty boy."

You could feel Fred gulp, your hand still wrapped around his throat. You had him right where you wanted him.

"Actually, I think I can walk myself to class this morning," you said. You released your hand from its place on his neck, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before grabbing the flowers from the desk where you had put them earlier. He was still standing there in shock as you headed for the door.

"Thanks for the flowers, Freddie," you said sweetly, tossing him one last glance over your shoulder before departing.

Fred was frozen where he stood. The two of you had a teasing relationship, but most of the teasing came from his end. You would simply resist, making it even more entertaining for him. But now you were the aggressor. And he loved it.

He was accustomed to taking the lead in his relationships. Fred had always been relatively dominant, but things with you were different. It felt like a power struggle. It was exciting and unpredictable.

Fred finally snapped back to reality, feeling momentarily embarrassed as he stood alone in the empty classroom. You had managed to slip through his fingers this time, but he was determined to get you back.

----

It was Wednesday evening. The week had gone by in a similar fashion to all of the others. You spent your evenings in the library with your friends, staying on top of the numerous assignments you had for the week. Your grades were something that really mattered to you, and you were determined to be at the top of your class.

It was your turn to make prefect rounds on Wednesday nights. It was only for an hour from 9-10pm, and you enjoyed the relatively peaceful time that you spent walking around the castle. Students were rarely misbehaving at this time, but you would have to write someone up every once in a while. 

Most of the hour had passed by without incident until you heard a bang come from down the hallway. It made you jump, but soon enough you were walking in the direction of the noise.

"Hey, who's there?" you called down the dim hallway, your feet carrying a quick pace as you went to investigate. 

You reached the set of stairs that led up to the astronomy tower. At the bottom of the stairs was a  neatly folded piece of paper. You picked it up, curious as to what it could be.

The stars are gorgeous tonight, but not as gorgeous as you.

You blushed as you read the note. You recognized the handwriting as Fred's instantly. You had tutored him for a year, so you had become familiar with his messy print. 

You began to ascend the stairs, knowing that Fred would be in the tower waiting for you. He loved surprising you, and he was unexpectedly thoughtful. You loved that about him.

You finally reached the top. Fred was stood by the edge of the tower, leaning against the stone ledge to look out at the sky. You stood there for a moment, watching him without his knowledge.

He looked peaceful. The moonlight lit his fiery hair with silver streaks. You noticed that his tie was missing, likely discarded once classes were over. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, showing more of his collarbone than usual. 

Seeing him like this was enough to make your whole body tingle. You wished you didn't react this way, but you couldn't help it. He was gorgeous. 

You cleared your throat, signaling to him that he wasn't alone. He turned to look at you, his gaze gentle. He motioned for you to join him. 

You approached him, settling in next to him as you placed your hands on the tall ledge. You looked out at the sky, taking in the view from the tower. He was right, the stars were gorgeous. 

You both stood in silence for a few minutes, but it was comfortable. Neither of you felt the need to disrupt the moment. You were enjoying the view and being in each other's presence.

You saw Fred angle his body toward you out of the corner of your eye. 

"How's my favorite prefect this evening?" he asked, a cheeky grin crossing his face. 

You turned to him, leaning your hip against the ledge. "I don't know, seems like I need to write up a certain student for trespassing in the astronomy tower after hours."

You returned his grin, knowing how much he enjoyed your banter. He stepped closer to you, running a finger under your chin.

"Is there anything I can do to convince her not to?" he asked, using his finger to angle your chin upward so you had to look into his eyes.

"We'll see," you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. 

Fred let out a light chuckle, and his other hand wrapped around your waist and landed on the small of your back. He pulled you in, kissing you on the lips.

Your hands rested on his chest, eventually pulling at his collar as you continued kissing. It was slow and gentle, and he wasn't rushing you to go any further.

You finally pulled apart, looking at each other in the moonlight. Even with the limited light, you could make out his slightly rosy cheeks and pink lips. You brought your thumb up to trace his bottom lip, giggling at him.

"Has anyone told you how pretty you are?" you asked, admiring him openly.

Fred's cheeks darkened, making you giggle even more. 

"What, do you not like when I hit on you?" you teased, pulling your hand from his face to place it on his shoulder. 

Fred's response was to pull you in for another kiss. Sweet and slow, much like the ones you had shared moments before. 

"You're quite cheeky, aren't you?" he finally said, resting his chin on the top of your head. He still had his arms wrapped around you, and you leaned into his chest.

"I'm not as bad as I used to be," you admitted. "My mum couldn't stand my mouth when she still lived with us. She said that my thoughts came right out of my mouth instead of going to my brain."

"I think your mouth is smashing," Fred replied. He took a moment to think about what he had said, then pushed you back by your shoulders to look at you as he realized the innuendo.

"Not what I meant," he said, letting out an awkward chuckle. You giggled at his embarrassment.

"I know, Fred," you said, grinning at him. You pulled out of the semi-embrace, turning back to look out at the sky.

You felt him lingering next to you, seeming to hesitate on what to do next. He decided to turn to the stars as well.

"Are you close with your mum?" he asked, sounding shy.

"No," you huffed out almost too quickly. "She left my dad and I when I was ten. Something about  the 'wizarding life' not suiting her. I found out later that she was cheating on my dad and moved to America with her Muggle boyfriend. I haven't seen her since."

Fred took a moment to absorb the information, considering how to proceed since he knew the topic was likely sensitive. 

"Are you close with your dad then?" he followed up.

"Very," you answered. "He went to Hogwarts and was a Ravenclaw too. He works in a potions lab, he grows all of their ingredients. He was hoping that I would like Herbology, but it's not really my thing."

"Does it get boring with just the two of you?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Not really," you replied, turning your head to look at him. "I used to wish that I had siblings, but it would just make our situation harder. My dad has had to raise me mostly by himself, having another child would have had him too knackered to balance work with taking care of us."

Fred looked at you, admiring your openness. You had never talked like this before. Your conversations had always been rather surface-level, but this was deeper. It felt good to connect with him.

"I bet your house is pretty quiet," he said. "My house feels like a madhouse sometimes. My brothers are always wrestling and Ginny is usually complaining about something."

"Do you like it though? Having so many siblings?" you asked.

"I suppose it's alright. I don't know any different. And my parents are so in love that it's sickening," Fred jokingly scrunched his face in disgust.

You giggled. "It's cute that they're still keen on each other," you said, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"I guess," he shrugged. "They're always up my arse about my marks and what I'm going to do after Hogwarts. George too. They make it sound like we're daft. My mum expects all of us to be just like Percy. Perfect Percy."

"I don't think you're daft," you said, linking your arm around his and leaning your head against his shoulder. 

"Thanks," Fred replied, adjusting so his arm wrapped around you instead. "Seems like the whole school thinks I am."

"Fred, that's ridiculous. You're allowed to feel that way, but it's simply not true," you argued. It hurt to hear that he felt like he wasn't smart enough. You knew that Fred wasn't incredibly focused on his studies, but that didn't mean that he wasn't intelligent.

"People like me because of my pranks. I'm good for a laugh, but that seems to be about it," he said. He sounded so small and defeated.

You turned your head just enough so you could look him in the eye. He was averting your gaze, opting to look at the sky instead.

"Look at me, Freddie," you said, your voice firm but kind. He finally met your eyes reluctantly.

"You are incredibly clever. Coming up with your own pranks takes detailed planning, and I can't imagine that it's easy. Your friends adore you. First years are chuffed when you even look their way," you told him, meaning every word. "But you're also genuine. And you're kind, and patient, and considerate. You're so much more than I knew you were, and I'm gutted that it took this long for me to get to know you."

Fred held your gaze as you rambled on. You saw that familiar look in his eye, the softness that was mixed with something deeper. Adoration, maybe? You weren't quite sure.

He was once again left without words, simply staring at you once you were finished talking. You felt embarrassed for a moment, afraid that you revealed too much of how you felt. Your stomach felt like it was sinking to the floor as he just stood there.

Fred finally moved, grabbing both of your hands in his. He maintained eye contact.

"Birdie, you're...Merlin, I don't know how to put it into words," he said, shaking his head at himself. 

"Then don't," you said softly.

He pulled your hands so your arms wrapped around him, drawing you in to his chest. He kissed you, a delicate kiss at first. He bit at your bottom lip, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. 

That was all he needed to lift you up, earning a giggle of surprise from you. You wrapped your legs around him, and he supported you by holding your bottom. He kept kissing you, pressing your back against the closest wall.

The cold stone caused goosebumps to erupt across your back, but in this moment, you didn't mind. Fred's kisses became more fervent, your teeth almost clashing as you both fought for the upper hand. 

He had you pinned against the wall for at least five minutes. You pushed at his shoulders, causing him to pull out of the kiss. He looked at you, his eyebrows bent in confusion.

"Put me down, please," you requested, a nonchalance in your voice. Fred complied, carefully adjusting you so your feet finally touched the ground.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, spinning around so you forced him up against the wall. Still gripping his collar, you pulled him down into another kiss. Your hands found his belt, and you paused.

"Is this alright?" you asked.

"Please," he answered, sounding breathless. A smug grin crept across your face. You were proud of the effect you were having on him. 

You resumed your kissing, working on his belt. Your kisses migrated down to his jaw, nipping at his jawline. You had always loved his jawline. You had heard other girls joke that it was sharp enough to cut something.

You finally got his belt free, tossing it to the side with a clank. Your hands ran up his chest, nails scratching along the material of his shirt. Fred let out a throaty sound, something between a groan and a whine. 

You kissed down to his neck, nipping at his ear.

"Fuck, birdie," he whispered in response. 

You started fiddling with the button of his trousers, struggling for a moment before getting it open. You pulled away from him, once again checking for his approval.

"Tell me when to stop," you said, echoing the very words he had said to you a few nights ago.

"Please don't," he replied, hands gripping at your hips desperately. 

"I've never heard so many 'please's come from you," you teased, biting at his neck again.

"Anything for you, darling," he said, his voice sultry. That was enough to send a tingle down your spine. 

You tugged at his trousers, pulling them down. You kept kissing his neck, finding a spot along his collarbone to leave a love bite. It was revenge for the marks he had left on you. 

Your hands danced down to his hips, unbuttoning his shirt from bottom to top. You looked at him for a moment, admiring your work. Fred was breathing hard, his pupils blown wide with arousal. He looked....hungry.

You dropped to your knees, earning a quiet "fuck" from Fred. You felt momentarily nervous, insecure about your "talents". You and Adrian had hooked up many times, and you were no stranger to blowjobs. But Adrian was your first and your only. This was someone new.

You snapped yourself out of it, dragging your nails along the waistband of Fred's boxers. There was already a prominent bulge from your efforts, and you silently commended yourself. 

You placed a kiss along his abs over the fabric of his undershirt. You worked your way down, kissing until you were at his waistband once again. You peered up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and desperate expression. And what did you do? You grinned up at him and winked.

Fred groaned, covering his face with his hand. You laughed at him, running your nails along his thighs. You knew that this teasing was making him miserable. You had your fun, now it was time to put him out of his misery.

You grabbed for his waistband, pulling down his boxers in one smooth motion. You gulped as you took in the sight before you. You had assumed that Fred would be big; he was a tall person, after all. You had also heard rumblings from girls who had hooked up with Fred. But this...definitely more than you were expecting. 

You took a breath, gripping him with one hand and supporting yourself against his thigh with the other. You began to pump him, slowly working him up to a faster pace. 

After a minute, you had Fred groaning and gripping at your hair. You dared to tease him once more, darting your tongue out to tease his tip. 

"Fuck," he muttered, nails digging into your scalp.

Your tongue danced in circles around his tip, eventually making stripes down to his base. You still hadn't put him into your mouth, and you knew this was killing him.

"Are you going to say please?" you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Birdie, you've got to be....oh fuck," he said breathily. You had continued teasing him with your tongue, interrupting his response.

"Please," he begged, sounding pathetic. That was what you had been waiting for. 

You finally took him into your mouth. You started with the tip at first, using one hand to work the rest of him while the other played with his balls. You worked your way down slowly, taking in more of him inch by inch.

Fred's groans were turning into whimpers, and if your mouth wasn't previously engaged, you would definitely be smirking. His nails continued to dig at your scalp, mussing your tidy hair. 

You worked your way down to his base at last, fighting against your instinct to gag. You picked up your pace, causing various profanities to fall from Fred's mouth.

"Fuck, I'm going to...you should stop," he breathed out, pulling hard at your hair. 

You peered up at him, determination in your eyes. There was no backing down now. He met your gaze, understanding what your intentions were. 

Fred finally released, a groan coming out of his mouth that he tried to suppress by biting his lip. You worked him down slowly, pulling him out of your mouth. You looked right into his eyes as you swallowed. 

His jaw dropped just slightly, his mouth just barely agape as he took in the sight before him. You were doing your own admiring, enjoying your view from your place on your knees. His chest was heaving, cheeks red. You could tell he had a lean build underneath his undershirt, and you were looking forward to taking that shirt off of him. Another time.

You helped him find his boxers and trousers, dressing himself as you got up from your knees. You brushed them off, feeling the indents from the stone floor in your knees. Worth it.

Fred had just finished slipping his belt through the loops of his trousers when you grabbed at his wrists. You puckered your lips at him playfully. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips.

"Do you still think that my mouth is smashing?" you teased, grabbing at his sides to pull yourself into him. 

"Absolutely smashing, birdie," he replied, chuckling again before giving you another kiss. 

----

Link to next part

[atadnerdy]

Exploring Japan: A Dive into Japanese Culture and Tradition

Japan / What a place

Japan, an archipelago in the Pacific Ocean, is a land of contrast where ancient traditions blend seamlessly with cutting-edge technology. This article aims to delve into the rich tapestry of Japanese culture, covering aspects such as traditional arts, cuisine, festivals, and social customs. Traditional Arts and Crafts Japan boasts a myriad of traditional arts and crafts that have been honed…

[citricacidprince]

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer, plucking out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

[eds6ngel]

being eddie’s girlfriend would include...

༊*·˚ you thought he would be his same eccentric self on the first date, but boy were you wrong.

༊*·˚ bro was a nervous wreck.

༊*·˚ was shook to his core when you said that you enjoyed the date and wanted to go on another.

༊*·˚ i imagine he is very clingy.

༊*·˚ and extremely touch-starved.

༊*·˚ always has a hand on your waist, thigh, holding your hand, anything for that physical touch.

༊*·˚ rambles about special interest bf x doesn’t understand but listens anyway gf.

༊*·˚ would never admit it, but lets you braid his hair.

༊*·˚ probably rambled about how you were the one after your first date to wayne.

༊*·˚ which led to you meeting wayne after the second date.

༊*·˚ he was kissing the ground when he saw the two of you get along.

༊*·˚ eddie got very comfortable very quickly as the relationship progressed.

༊*·˚ not that you minded, of course.

༊*·˚ but, he was just a tad annoying at times…

༊*·˚ just habits he knew would drive you up the wall, but couldn’t resist to do anyway.

༊*·˚ would smack your ass any time you lean over.

༊*·˚ would always have the same cheeky grin every time he did it too.

༊*·˚ speaking of asses… he would 100% use your ass as a drum.

༊*·˚ and your head…

༊*·˚ or any body part for that matter — “sorry babe, i just have this rhythm in my head. gotta see if it sounds good before i write it down.”

༊*·˚ the annoying, disgusting pda couple.

༊*·˚ bros making out with you against the school lockers, i’m sorry :’)

༊*·˚ he just likes to make his love to you well known, as he dies when you do anything remotely similar.

༊*·˚ and when homecoming season came around… boy, oh boy.

༊*·˚ you told him that jason asked chrissy to homecoming in the middle of a basketball game, so eddie took that as a personal challenge.

༊*·˚ asked you to homecoming in the middle of the cafeteria, standing on the table and shit.

༊*·˚ got robin and her band friends to even play your favourite song.

༊*·˚ bro definitely spoke in shakespearean — “wouldst thou doth me the greatest honour and joineth me, the eddie munson, at the danceth?”

༊*·˚ and of course you said yes, because you love your nerdy ass boyfriend a lot.

…i might do eddie and his gf at homecoming headcanons next.

[yndrgrl]

katsuki bakugo has a glow up during summer break, & now he has a lot of girls' attention

fluff. ooc! bakugo. bits of jealousy. sfw. x reader. acquaintances to lovers. long ass fic.

a/n: the horny content will continue after this message :) also i kinda got nerdy so just ignore my rambles about fighting haha

the whispers & murmurs buzzed like bugs throughout the halls of u.a. you couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard lower classmen gush about how good katsuki looks, how he definitely had a summer glow up.

it's not that he was bad looking before, that's just not the case. so, when you heard that he somehow got hotter over the span of a few months, you grew curious.

your best friend, ochaco, began to rave about him. "no, you don't understand, y/n. have you seen him yet?"

"i haven't yet, but it doesn't matter! he's still rude as hell!" you told her. "besides, aren't you still going after midoriya?"

"yeah, but i can still appreciate attractive people," she retorted, shoving the rest of her her breakfast-on-the-go in her mouth. you fished your phone out of your school cardigan pocket to change your music when, like a kdrama (or a shitty fanfic), you ran into something-- no, someone.

speak of the devil. "oi! watch it!" the abrasive blonde spun around & met your eyes. his harden glare soften oh so subtly.

"i'm sorry," you quaintly apologized. it's the first day & the first hour of the next 180 days, & you're not going to get in a fight.

"it's whatever, just make sure where you're going next time," katsuki responded. his tone was still harsh, yet what he said was almost nice.

he walked off into the both of yours' classroom, leaving you & ochaco stunned. you both stared at each other, mouths agape. "what just happened?" she finally spat out.

"i have no idea."

"WAS HE JUST NICE?"

a week later, you sat in class, listening to mr. aizawa drone on about something so utterly boring, you'd rather stick your head in a toilet & flush it yourself. you let your eyes wander around the class. for the most part, everyone stayed the same.

then, your eyes landed on katsuki, who was seated by the window. now that you had time to think about it, he did change. his jawline was a tad sharper, his hair appeared more soft, & his shirt clung onto every inch of his upper body. he definitely bulked up during the summer.

his skin is clear, he must've also began caring for a sense of style because his fingers displayed grunge rings, & his eyes were somehow a darker, more alluring shade of crimson. wait, his eyes... were staring at you.

no, he was staring at you staring at him.

god, you felt like a creep. you were expecting him to yell at you, scowl through gritted teeth, but no. he didn't do any of that. he shot you a smirk, then went back to jotting notes.

confusion settled in after embarrassment. you couldn't help that a light pink dusted your cheeks. it wasn't noticeable though, thank goodness.

the subtle, weird antics didn't stop. maybe he's just playing with me or something, you wondered. or maybe i'm looking too much into thinks.

when passing him in the halls, he'd acknowledge you by giving you a small nod-- even if his friends were talking his ears off. he'd hold the doors open for you & only you, but would walk away quickly. he was treating you differently then he treats everyone else, & you don't know why.

"bakugo~" a girl you barely recognized greeted. "you look handsome today!"

he & his friends sat on the other side of your friends' long table. you were the closest to his squad, only three seats away from them. they could hear your conversations, but that means you could hear theirs.

"shut it, & eat your food," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. with his chopsticks, he picked at his bento box.

"ooo~ what did you pack?" she pressed as she inched closer to him. "aww, did your mom make that?"

"no, i did," he raised his voice. she wouldn't take the hint though.

she merely giggled, asking, "could you feed it to me? i wanna try some~" she crossed her arms under her breasts to intensify her cleavage. she was picture perfect, to say the least. any other guy would be drooling at the sight of her.

not bakugo though. he was goal-oriented, focused on the future, & not into dating from what you gathered. a small part of you is bummed out that he isn't interested in romance. he was practically everything you wanted in a guy after all-- just minus the whole "jerk" part.

"what are you looking at, bakugo?" you didn't realize you were staring -once again- until the girl whipped her head around & caught your gaze. her cattish smile dropped into a thin line. "quit staring, idiot-"

"don't call her that, bitch."

both yours & her eyes widened at the quickness & unexpected defensiveness spewed by bakugo. he stuck some of his egg omelette in his mouth, unbothered.

"wh-what? i don't think i heard you, bakugo."

he swallowed his food, ran his tongue across his top teeth, and started to pick up more food with his chopsticks, reiterating, "don't talk to y/n like that, got it?" he put the food in his mouth.

she scoffed, humiliated. "i have to leave," she said, voice dropping at least an octave. your eyes trailed her as she sat with her friends, & they immediately began gossiping. how could you tell? the way they all looked back at you with a nasty expression on their faces.

you returned your attention back to bakugo, who had both your friends & his friends floored with what just happened. "thanks for that," you started. "you really didn't have to do that."

"i know i didn't, but someone had to shut her up."

you replied, "i mean, i'm sure there was a nicer way."

"i tried," he told you with that small smirk on his face again. "she didn't get the hint, i have to be more obvious."

"yeah, in more ways than one," a friend on his side, sero, snickered.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" classic katsuki, reverting back to yelling.

ever since that happened, your friends haven't stopped talking about it since. "guys, c'mon. it's almost been a week," you groaned. you were all getting ready in the school locker room to do hand-to-hand, no quirk combat with a celebrated instructor.

"i think bakugo likes you~" ochaco teased in a sing-songy voice.

you tried to reason, "maybe he was just annoyed with her, & it has nothing to do with me."

"i don't know, y/n," momo laughed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "he seemed pretty into you."

"no way, not bakugo-"

"well, why not bakugo?" mina, who just so happened to be good friends with said man, asked while she slipped on her shoes.

"because we all know what he's like. he doesn't really scream the dating type, you know?" you grabbed a water bottle & locked your back into your locker.

mina shrugged, & ochaco said, "you said one time that bakugo was the closest to your type... do you like him?"

"WHAT?"

the rest of the conversation was cut short when tsuyu pointed out they should be in the training room by now, causing all the girls to scramble out of the locker room.

the instructor, once the bell rang, introduced himself. he was a nice man seemingly. he was a well-seasoned martial artist who knew what he was talking about.

after his brief speech, he had his assistant -a younger, more egotistical guy- be his dummy when explaining a move. "does anyone have any questions?" he asked. no one answered. "cool, find a partner, & try it out."

everyone scurried to find their partners. pair by pair, no one chose you... all except-

"hey you, be my partner," bakugo practically demanded.

"me?"

"no, the wall behind you. yes, you, y/n," he joked, the same smirk only you get to see on his face. this time, however, it was a full-blown smirk.

"are you sure?"

"yeah," he scoffed, dragging you by the arm to an empty space. he studied how your face contorted from surprise to concern. "listen, if you think you're gonna drag me down or whatever, you're not-"

"no, it's not that," you interrupted. you felt your pride inflate slightly.

"then what is it?"

"i just don't want to hurt you."

it was his turn to be shocked. what did you mean by that?

the first hour went by, techniques were taught, & moves were learned. however, now it was the time that really put things to the test: open spar. it was at this time in training when things got heated. everyone in the room gives it their all no matter what, so the atmosphere turns into something animalistic, yet so empowering.

but before that, is a small water break. speaking of water, where did you leave yours? you swear you brought it in. bakugo must've seen how confused you appeared when he offered (or told you), "here, take some of mine."

too thirsty to even care the open-mouthed expressions from your peers, you took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "thank you!" you cheered, taking a few sips then handing it back to him.

"was that even enough? you barely drank anything," he jested. it sounded like he was teasing you, but, again, he said something like he cared about your well-being.

"yeah, i'll be fine. the worst that can happen is i'll faint."

"you better not. i need a good training partner."

"oh whatever, you're getting a good training partner."

suddenly, the instructor boomed, "water break is over! get back with your partner for sparring!"

once everyone huddled back with their partners & got situated, the instructor explained briefly that everyone will be grappling ("no striking" he repeated ten times as well) five minute rounds, switch partners, another five minute round, & so on so forth. "alright got it?"

"yes sir!"

"good," he nodded to his assistant, who got the stop watch ready, "3, 2, 1, go!"

yoy & katsuki go into your stances. one thing about being shorter than him is that, in the game of wrestling, you're at in advantage at first. "don't go easy on me," you told him, it was meant as a warning

"i was just about to tell you i wasn't." the moment he finished, he took a double-leg shot. it was executed near flawless-- emphasis on the near.

you sprawled your legs back, collapsing your body on top of his. you drove your shoulder into his neck, which resulted in bakugo's face smushed against the mat. he might be strong, but no one's neck is that strong to hold up an entire person. you heard him audibly groan "fuck!"

you caught his arm & his head with one of yours. the two of you were on your knees, but your goal was to get him flat, stomach down. with his trapped arm & leg, you pulled him out from under you & quickly sped towards his back. you mounted him, keeping yourself close to his. you gazed up at your instructor, who gave you a knowing nod of approval.

like a good fighter, katsuki sprung his head up. he missed your nose, instead having his skull collide with your cheek. it hurt, but you had to keep going. "since when did you learn how to wrestle?"

"what do you mean?" you thought everyone knew. you swore that you've mentioned it in front of the class.

"you're fucking good, you know that?" he praised as he fought of your hands.

"you're not too bad yourself," you told him before you crossbody locked him.

"no, i'm being serious. you're too damn good. you're gonna be my partner every time we grapple."

you & bakugo, now you call him katsuki, have only grown closer since then. he would take time out of his study session to ensure you understood the material. before he could finish, the library assistant -a girl around your age- would ask if he needed help with anything, shy blush on her face.

other times he'd walk with you back to your dorms when a group of girls would ask for his number.

it was a constant occurrence; girls notice him, ask for something, then ultimately get rejected. it wasn't in a nice way either. he always degraded & humiliated them, but they'd let him because of how handsome he was.

it was a saturday afternoon where you & katsuki got food from a nearby convenience store & sat in the park. no scheduled training or overwhelming amounts of homework. he insisted on paying for you, & who are you to reject free food?

"okay, but i really have to ask," you started, eating your food, "why aren't you dating anyone?"

"i don't know," he simply put it, downing a bottle of a protein drink.

"you do know, you're just not telling me." you actually didn't know if that was true, you were just bluffing.

"fine, i'm just waiting for a some girl to realize i like her," he admitted so nonchalantly, as if he didn't drop a mind bomb.

your mood dampened. he was your dream guy, the more you hung out with him. you might have developed a crush on him, yet you didn't even realize he liked anyone else.

"no way! who?" you had to sound enthused or he would know something was up.

"no one, forget i said anything," he cleared.

"i want to know~ i can help find out her favorite flowers or something so you can confess!"

"really?" he asked, brow quirked. you nodded your head.

"tch, alright. what's your favorite flower?"

that didn't make any sense. "what?"

"you said that you're gonna help me confess, so what's your favorite flower?"

"katsuki, i don't think she has the same favorite flower than me."

"oh my god, you're so fuckin' dense," he muttered under his breath. "i want to know your favorite flower, y/n, so i can confess." his cheeks reddened as he gave you intense stare, studying your expression. it was still confused.

"confess to who-" he cut you off by putting his hand behind your head & pulling you into a kiss. it was gentle, passionate, & truly shocking to you.

"confess to you, idiot," he panted when the two of you pulled away. "i'm already here," he said with a fuck-it attitude.

"y/n, i've liked you for a long time, a really long time. i thought i made it obvious but you never really caught on cuz you're a dumbass or something."

you laughed, & he smiled at you.

he continued, "so then shitty hair told me i had to make it even more obvious, so that's what i've been doing this entire year."

"but all those girls-"

"yeah well i didn't know i was getting a fan club this year. honestly, they don't fuckin' matter though. what matters is you & i," he told you, his face still so close to yours. "so tell me, if you feel the same."

"i-i do," you stuttered out. in your defense, you were not used to such close proximity to anyone, let alone a sculpture chiseled by ancient greeks themselves.

"say it again," he said, voice deep & eyes half lidded. "i need to hear it again."

"i do, katsuki," you repeated per his request. "i really, really like you."

he pulled you into another kiss, & you both felt each other smile. it felt right.