#I’m. Actually stupidly excited about this

[shima-draws]

I decided on prompts for the OP rarepair week I’m hosting 👀 I’ll probably put the blog together sometime this week while the polls are still running here

[killmymind]

i keep having dreams about my louis show. Help

[lnfours]

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[darlingdreadwrites]

I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared. 

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure. 

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.  

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

[serosluv2]

obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

[earthtooz]

x : LOVE OF A KIND :*+ﾟ

in which: kaiser needs to be reassured that you love him, even if it's just a fraction of how special you are to him.

warnings: 2.3k words, toothrotting fluff and minor angst, kaiser is intoxicated, mentions of alcohol and clubbing, insecure!kaiser, gn!reader, BAD WRITING and ooc!kaiser probably, established relationship, if this flops i will cry. here we love pathetic men.

a/n: fuck you @kruinka for birthing this. actually fuck you. that's the a/n. enjoy whatever this is!

it’s approximately 1am when your phone vibrates violently on the kitchen counter, disturbing the gentle, unrushed ambience of friday evening (or saturday morning) in your apartment. pressing the space bar of your laptop with a lot more force than necessary, the show you were watching pauses as you throw the blankets off you, the chill of the air seeping into your body with each step you take.

noticing the contact name, you accept the call readily, pressing the ‘speaker’ option. immediately, you hear the noise of club music, people singing along and indistinct chatter.

“hello?” you ask, directly into the microphone.

“y/n?” ness’s voice returns.

“hey, what’s up?”

“sorry for bothering you so late. were you about to go to bed?”

“no, actually, i was staying up. something the matter?”

“it’s kaiser,” the brunet-purple-haired boy tells you and your heart drops with anxiety, mind beginning to race with whatever your egotistical, narcissism-driven boyfriend could have got himself into.

probably tried to square up someone far more impressive, for all you know. did he break something? spit in someone’s drink?

“i-it’s nothing bad!” ness reassures, “he’s just asking for you.” 

oh. that’s not so terrible. “okay, but why?”

in the phone’s proximity, you can hear someone stumbling and muttering in the background. there’s an indistinct mumble of your name and ness confirming your presence on the other side of the phone, followed by an excited ‘really?’ from the mystery figure. you find comfort in the fact that you know it’s kaiser before the person even has to announce himself.

“sorry, he’s just asking for you… a lot,” the soccer player informs with a little hesitation.

before you can inquire further about it, kaiser’s voice echoes in the background. “let me talk to y/n!” he sounds faraway, but you can imagine his expression regardless from just the desperately excited tone he has. 

“i can tell,” you chuckle. 

“give me the phone, ness,” kaiser demands. there’s a sentence of complaint from the midfielder and some (aggressive) rustling before you can hear your boyfriend loud and clear. “baby!” he slurs.

“hello, kaiser,” you say, grinning stupidly at the sound of his voice.

“hi beautiful. are you well?” the blond sounds a little clearer now and the music seems to have diminished a little. he must have retreated to a ‘quieter’ corner of the club. 

“as well as i can be at home. what about you?”

“i’m great now that i’m with you,” he murmurs, sounding more melancholy than usual, just ever so slightly. you dismiss the shift by blaming it on the alcohol, but there’s a tug at your gut that tells you that the drinks aren’t the sole reason.

you melt a little. “shouldn’t you be dancing or something? why are you calling me?”

“i love calling you,” he whines. “please don’t hang up.”

“if you’re sure��� i’m not too sure that a club is the best place to call though.” 

“i don’t care. so long as i’m with you, anything’s fine.”

you huff, tapping your fingers on the counter, trying not to let his sweetened words get to you. “really though, you should be going back to partying and letting loose-”

“do you not like talking to me?” kaiser whispers. you can practically hear the pout in his tone, imagining the way his shoulders slump defeatedly. funny how such a powerful, influential, and unbreakable character can be reduced to nothing in your grasp. 

you couldn’t ever imagine abusing that power though, not when michael kaiser is the one in the centre of your palm. “i do. i love talking to you, i’m just concerned that you’re not using the time wisely.” 

“i’m wise. i’m super wise. right, babe? tell me i’m wise.”

where you would have played with him a little and strung him along with saccharine sarcasm, a small giggle escapes your lips instead. that would be saved for sober kaiser. “you are, you are,” you reassure, suddenly filled with the urge to see him. 

“thanks babe. i love you,” he whimpers. “please say you love me too.”

furrowing your brows at his uncharacteristic display of neediness and constant gratification, you were beginning to grow concerned at his odd behaviour. sure, kaiser loved to be praised for his skills, but there was something wrong about the athlete tonight. you’ve never heard him beg to be complimented like he is tonight, but with the add-ins of alcohol and whatever else, you don’t know whether to flag this or not.

“kaiser, can you give the phone back to ness?” you ask gently.

he whines, “say you love me too!”

“i’m picking you up, kaiser, give the phone back to ness so i can tell him.”

“will i get to see you?”

“if you give the phone back to ness, you will.”

“really? hang on, babe!” 

there’s a bit more rustling, resembling something that sounds like kaiser pushing through a crowd as he holds the phone in his grip, saying ‘move’ to bypassers in his way. after a short conversation that you can’t pick up between the familiar voices of your boyfriend and his best friend, you hear ness’ voice clearly once again. “hey, everything okay?”

“everything’s fine,” you say, having grabbed your keys and a jacket whilst waiting. “i’m driving over to pick kaiser up, hope that doesn’t inconvenience you guys.”  

“not at all. i’ll send you the location of the club. there are 15 minute parking places just outside.”

“thanks ness, i appreciate it.”

“don’t worry. see you soon.” 

“i’ll let you know when i arrive. tell kaiser to wait for me.”

you hang up after that, not waiting for a farewell from the soccer player as you plug your keys into the ignition, the car revving alive. after a 20 or so minute drive to downtown (the lack of traffic at one am made it so much easier to get there faster), you park at the curbside of the street opposite the club, clambering out of your car to lean against the driver’s door, where you could see the club entrance easily.

after shooting a quick text to ness, you wait patiently for the appearance of your beloved boyfriend, hugging your jacket close to your figure. 

six minutes later, you see them; a shorter figure lugging out a taller one over his shoulder with little struggle. regardless of kaiser’s inebriated position, you could recognise his silhouette anywhere, heart picking up a little as you jog over to the club, feet taking you where your heart wanted to go.

“ness!” you call out. 

upon hearing your voice, kaiser’s head shoots up from where it was drooped, scanning the general vicinity of where you were before he spots you. the smile that lights up on his face is instantaneous; a grin that rivals that of the club lights.

“my love!” he exclaims excitedly, stumbling over to you with surprising accuracy for someone who must have drank his body weight in alcohol. immediately, the athlete wraps you up in his arms, the smell of beer invading your senses as kaiser shields you completely from the outside world. “i’m so happy to see you.”

“i’m happy to see you too.”

after a few seconds of relishing in his warmth and (much-appreciated) silence, you take a mini-step away from him; an action the blond clearly did not take well as he groans, manoeuvring himself to now hug you from the side, head resting against yours as you pulls you towards him possessively.

you wave at ness from where you stood, unable to move with the striker clinging onto you. “thank you, ness. i’m sorry for disturbing your night out, you know how kaiser gets,” you say with a laugh, patting your boyfriend on the back.

“no, thank you for taking care of him. i’m glad he has you.”

“and i’m glad he has you too. you should go back inside, i got it from here.”

he nods, waving after a quick farewell before heading back in, disappearing from sight. sighing, you reposition yourself so that it was comfortable to prop him up against you. 

“hey, handsome, you with me?” cupping his face with both of your hands, he nods in your grip, eyes drooping here and there as he stares down at you with unmatched gentleness and love. you add as a light-hearted joke: “you used to be able to party until the clubs close, what happened?”

he grabs your wrists, holding on to them as he speaks, “you still never said ‘i love you’.” 

“oh,” you laugh, letting the sound spill freely. “my bad-”

“-why are you laughing?”

his question shuts you up, catching you off guard as the laughter diminishes like an extinguished match. uncertainty dances within you like smoke, greying the giddy mood you were previously in from being reunited with him. 

looking him square in the eye, you notice something that you’ve never seen him wear before: insecurity. 

kaiser looks so… abashed. sheepish. dismayed. your chest clenches at the sight, a feeling of protectiveness overwhelming you. 

“what do you mean?” you ask cautiously.

“why are you laughing at me?” repeats the athlete.

“oh kaiser,” brushing a strand of hair behind his ears, you see his frown even clearer. “i’m not laughing at you, it wasn’t meant to be mocking, i was laughing because you’re adorable and that you make me happy.”

he huffs, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. is everything okay, love?”

no answer. after a moment of simply standing around, you let it go because maybe it was just the alcohol that was making him act this way. you don’t want to think too hard about it. 

“let’s go home,” you whisper, grabbing his hands with yours, intertwining your fingers as you wait for his response.

“okay,” he slurs, nodding compliantly. 

“do you need my help walking?”

“yes,” he drapes himself over you without hesitation, causing you to groan uncomfortably. your question was said majorly as a joke, but kaiser will never let go of an opportunity to be as close to you as possible. 

stumbling back to the car with a half-coherent athlete was difficult but not impossible. unlocking the vehicle, you open the passenger’s door rather easily, shoving him in there with an ‘oof’ from both of you. however, when you tried to pull away, you were met with a chain and lock around your waist, manifested in the form of your overgrown boyfriend who is too liberal with the amount of physical affection he spares.

you place a hand on his shoulder to try and steady yourself from his iron grip. “hey, i need to go to the driver’s seat, can’t you let me go to do that?”

kaiser whines loudly, pulling you even closer. “please don’t make me let go. i don’t want to.”

he was not good for your health. you exhale, slightly perplexed, slightly touched by his devotion. “babe, i’m just going to the driver’s seat. you’ll let me, won’t you?” 

“no. wanna keep you with me. want to love you forever,” his words are muffled into your jacket before the athlete brings his head out of your stomach to look you square in the eye, and the shiny, emotional look in them makes your heart lurch. “please say there’s no one else for you but me.”

grabbing both sides of his face with tender affection, you place a kiss on his nose; an action that causes him to scrunch his nose out of instinct. “you know there will never anyone but you. i love you just as much in kind.”

he sighs, melting against you. the night air nips at your exposed skin but you can’t find it in you to care much.

“so… you don’t think that i’m too much?” the star striker questions and you think you’ve uncovered the root of tonight’s strangeness; the main problem that’s been bothering him.

“a lot? maybe” you whisper and his face falls slightly at your confession, a flash of devastation crossing his features. his expression of ruin is slow to fade so you kiss it off, sealing your lips with his in a gentle meeting of two hearts, hoping to heal his sorrow that was carved from a moment of misunderstanding. 

you pull away from him but the striker continues chasing after your touch.

“but never too much.” 

an exhale of relief leaves him before he straightens up to meet your lips again, hand snaking up to the back of your neck to hold you against him as he tries to communicate all that he feels-  which is everything. 

kaiser loves selectively, but he loves hard, dedicating everything of his that he can until he’s squeezed dry and rendered empty, ready for a refill that he’ll inevitably give away, all to you. 

kaiser’s heart rests in your hands, where it rightfully belongs.

“i love you,” slurs the striker against your lips. “i know i can be a lot but i love you. please never leave me. what is the meaning of life if you’re not there with me?” 

you can’t help wondering about what happened tonight for him to reach such a state of existentialism, but there’s no time to dwell on it now whilst he’s still intoxicated and vulnerable. gently, you hold his jaw so he could look up at you. 

“i might not show it as unabashedly as you do, but please never doubt that i love you. i adore you with my whole being, kaiser, there’s no one else in the world for me like you,” you confess, voice gentle and unwavering. 

he doesn’t let you see the way his eyes mist before closing them and leaning into your touch. “i would do anything for you,” the striker whispers.

“anything, you say?”

he nods.

“then let’s go home and sleep. what do you say, handsome?”

“what a brilliant idea. you’re so smart, my love.”

“thank you but you need to let go of me in order for that to happen.”

he begins wailing in protest.

© 2023 EARTHTOOZ do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites.

[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! 💥💥💥

[alphajocklover]

I'd like to see how my life would have turned out, 20 years ago, had I joined my college football team instead of the college theater group.

Fuck. Fucking hell this fucking sucks. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s not you, you’re not the reason I’m upset. Your request is interesting and I want to help you with it, I really do. It’s just… to do this, we’re going to have to use time travel. It’s not that it’s impossible or anything, I actually own a time machine so that’s not an issue. It’s that… I fucking hate time travel.

I don’t hate the concept of time travel itself. I think it can be a lot of fun in works of fiction. Doctor Who, Back to the Future, and Star Trek are all things that heavily feature time travel that I’m a big fan of. It’s just that, in real life, it gets so stupidly complicated. You know how every work of fiction seems to have different rules for turn travel? In real life time travel follows all these rules and none of them all at once. If that seems confusing, that’s because it is. It’s insane. But it’s the best chance for doing this, so we’re going to give it a try. Now, close your eyes and hold onto me tight. This is going to feel weird.

You can open your eyes now. Be careful though, it’s going to take a second for your eyes to adjust. We’re outside now, on the football field of your old college. You don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us. I may hate time travel but the time machine is pretty useful. Time travel, space travel, and camouflage. But that’s not important right now. See that skinny guy standing on the opposite side of the field? You should recognize him. It’s you, 20 years ago, as a college freshman. You really wanted to join the football team huh? I can see the longing in your eyes… but also some serious nervousness. I’m guessing this is about when you back out and decide to join the school's theater group. Not this time though. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna change anything drastic. I’m just going to give you a little… push in the right direction. Have to get you to join the team somehow. I just have to whisper some things in his, or I guess your ear while we’re in camouflage… and just like that everything is going to change. Welcome to the football team. You’re a little late on becoming a jock, but you’re a hard worker. You’ll catch up. Speaking of which…

We jumped forward in time. I probably should have warned you, I was just excited to see the changes. We’re not all the way back to the present, not yet. It’s been a year since the other you joined the football team, and just like I predicted you caught up real quick. Even when you were in theater you were a hard worker, and now that you’ve dedicated yourself to football instead, you’re an absolute beast. You’ve had a major growth spurt and fit right in with the guys who have been playing football since middle school, a total jock through and through. Looks like this version of you acts a little more jockish too. Probably because you’ve been spending so much time around jocks, they’ve been rubbing off on you. Literally in one very special case. That’s right, the new you managed to do what you never could in college: get a jock boyfriend. In the original timeline he never even looked your way, but now Tim Wire, the most popular jock in school, is head over heels for you. You two seem to have a great relationship… Let's see if it lasts.

Another jump forward, a much bigger one this time. It’s been about 5 years since you joined the football team. You didn’t go professional, not because you couldn’t but because you didn’t want to. A guy like you could have been a superstar, but you and your fiancée Tim agreed you both wanted something more stable. So you opened up a chain of gyms. It’s a small business, but it has a lot of potential for growth, especially with you as the face of the operation. You basically have it made. You own a small, successful business, have a sexy husband, and are about to adopt a 3 year old. Your life is fucking perfect. Let’s see if it gets better.

A final jump forward. We’re 20 years after you joined the football team, back into the present. You’re still the old you, but that’s only because I have to ‘finalize’ the changes. Take a look around. You might not recognize this place, this huge mansion, but it’s your home. You, your husband Tim, and your adopted son all live here together. This must be your home gym, and I believe that’s you and him flexing over there. Looks like the little guy ended up taking after his dads. He’s huge for an 18 year old. He’s smart too, all ready to take over the family business when you retire. Your gyms are a very successful franchise now, if you can’t tell from the sheer size of your house. It’s just my opinion but I think your life really would have been better if you joined the football team back then. And now it can be. All you need to do is press this button, and finalize the changes. It’s your choice-

Ok, that was quick. I guess it was an easy choice. I hope you enjoy your new life. I would if I were you. I mean a muscular sexy husband, a son you can be proud of, a successful business and an incredible amount of muscles and confidence. You’ve got it made. I just hope we didn’t change too much. I didn’t realize you’d start a gym franchise. That could have a big impact.

I’m sure it’s nothing though. I mean, how many lives can a gym really change?

[incogrio]

can you do idol!reader x idol!soobin and a fic of how the two of them catch feelings idk

c.sb - idol!soobin x idol!reader falling in love hcs

pairing: idol!soobin x idol!gn!reader

genre: fluff fluff fluff

synopsis: hcs on how u and soobin started dating :33

warnings: none! except for cat ears but nothing can be done there ☹️

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!! i hope you like it (this is very intimidating) and i hope you don’t mind that i made it hcs!! hope you enjoy and feel free to send in as many requests as u want hehehe

i think you guys would have had to meet at mnet, or something of that sort

he was a rookie, you had debuted a year before him, and he was always a huge fan of yours

he didn’t really know much about you, other than how talented you were.

so you may be asking, how did he catch feelings?

well…

all of the members had their own little introduction moments when you first debuted

you were all nervous and he was a trainee at the time and something about seeing someone he looked up to being nervous brought him so much comfort

and then he watched more and more of your videos. and performances. and interviews.

it may have started as a comfort thing, but then it turned into being jealous whenever your fans would talk about you

or when the members would make fun of him

yeah he has a few posters of you in his room what about it

so a little bit after txt debuted, he was the MC that year with arin, and was so excited to interview u!! until he was told that for the cat & dog promotion he had to wear dog ears. the. whole. day.

“i’m gonna end it,” “you’ll survive” “THEYRE GOING TO SEE ME IN DOG EARS!!”

cut to members laughing hysterically and him pacing back and forth

he was soooo red during the interview that you even went off script, pointing it out which made him laugh and cover his face (he wanted to implode on the spot)

but then… him being flustered made u laugh and…

yeah he got a little hard on stage SO WHAT??

after the interview and after he had calmed down he was walking with his members (all dressed in cat and dog ears) and he saw you and i think he actually died

tried to hide behind beomgyu (stupidly) and was immediately met w a “yahh!” and a shove into the wall

the loud bang of his back hitting the wall made you look over and he literally refused to look at you

you felt sad for him and wanted to make him feel better, so u tried to give him a compliment!

“nice ears!” you smiled, but his flustered mind immediately made him think you were making fun of him. he didn’t respond, just bowing slightly and shuffling away awkwardly

when you told your members, they were absolutely horrified

what do you MEAN you complimented the ONE thing they had been insecure about?? OBVIOUSLY THEY THOUGHT YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF THEM!!

oh. oh god.

the next day, you were absolutely mortified and had to make things right, especially since you were a big fan and had a raging crush on the long legged loser

this day, you had an interview with the mcs as a group, and after you had promoted your new album, you went up to him.

yeah no soobie was pissing his pants

“hello.. i just wanted to say that i didn’t mean what i said yesterday to be mean! i genuinely think it’s cute and i love your group so much!” you beamed at him

he literally reached to his arm and pinched himself

no fucking way dude

he smiled nodded and physically could not do anything else other than bow

you seemed overly professional with him, and that made him sad

“alright well, i have to go. fighting!”

bro just nods like 😦

on the very last day as a mc, he knew he HAD to get your number

he tried to talk to taehyun, since he has borderline gotten every idols number

taehyun laughed and said he didn’t have rizz.

so he decided to just wing it

yeah haha that didn’t go well

he found you after your performance, you were sweaty and WOAH brother he was having thoughts

“hello!” he bows, “you did so good!” you didn’t really respond bc like.. why is he talking to you?? you have a strictly professional relationship

you smile awkwardly and thank him, before falling into DISGUSTING silence (how soobin describes it)

“um… i just wanted to say that i really liked your… your performance? and… i really like… you?”

L RIZZ!! (it worked on you so bad)

he was stuttering and nervous and was basically ASKING you if he liked you

you decided to put him out of his misery

“thank you!” you bow, “i have to go soon, but if you give me your number we can talk more?”

soobin borderline got on his knees and thanked jesus personally

in reality he just nodded super eagerly and was shaking so bad he had to rewrite his name in your contacts four times

now, you’ve been dating for three years

you still make fun of him for that whole event, and he wants to die everytime but it makes you laugh so he doesn’t care all that much

he still hates how he needs to act super professional towards you on camera

he wishes he could kiss you in front of everyone so they’d stop shopping you with people other than him

and so everyone knew you were taken

physically pains him whenever he sees a fan try to flirt with you

or another idol even doing so much as talking and laughing with you

my bf crazy he kill people

you just need to reassure him with kisses to his little bunny lips and he’ll be fit as a fiddle

no guarantees if you’re getting anything done that day tho…

comment, dm or send in an ask to be added to the tag list!

[nerdallwritey]

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ 𝓛𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 ✦˚₊‧⁺˖

Hi, I'm Emma! Welcome to my writing blog, where there's banter abound!

I'm currently writing Astarion x f!reader fics, but am open to requests! Be warned: My content is NSFW so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it! MDNI

Where else can you find me?

AO3 // Main Blog (I reblog tons of bg3 stuff over there!)

𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔡 - (Posted in order chronologically)

An Evening to Ourselves (18+): When Astarion propositions you for the first time, you're anything but excited. // AO3

“I, uh-” It was too much. The look on his face was too intense. You felt too exposed despite the layers of armor currently clad to your body. “I’m scared,” you admitted quietly. “Don’t be,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”

Just to Ruin Me (18+): The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two. // AO3

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.”

Cheeks All Flushed (18+): It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue. // Part 1 // Part 2 // AO3

You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

Perfect Every Time (18+): Before your party travels into the Underdark, you and Astarion catch one last sunrise together. // AO3

You got up and joined him in the ankle deep water. “Do you want to try right now?” Astarion thought for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I have a better idea, actually.” He gave you a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly.  “What?” you matched his smile. Rather than answering, Astarion reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.  You furrowed your brow. “Looks an awful lot like you’re preparing to swim.” He started fiddling with the clasps on his pants and groaned in your direction. “Swimming is not the only thing one can do while submerged in water, dearest.” He gave you a sensual smile that sent heat to your cheeks. 

Worth the Peril (18+): Upon arriving in the Underdark, you go down in a battle, leaving Astarion to pick up the pieces. // AO3

In another life, Astarion would have made a decent barbarian.  Despite Karlach’s cheerful demeanor, for the most part, barbarians were known to be violent, brutal, and cruel. All things that Astarion could easily tap into if the situation called for it. And right now, he was entering a rage.

About to Strike (18+): The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands. // Part 1 // Part 2 // AO3

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.

More to come!

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰 - (Ask box is open!)

Awfully Fond of You 🪴 (18+): Instead of sleeping with Astarion on the night of the tiefling party, you ask to bathe him instead. // AO3

You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water. “You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket out for Astarion to see. “I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.” “A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.” “I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

𝔄𝔯𝔱 - (Please feel free to draw scenes from the story! Just tag me!)

xxnashiraxx: - Birdie (my Tav!) sthormii: - Mine (from About to Strike)/Fangs (from Just to Ruin Me)

[hella1975]

IM SO MAD

GETTING MY NAILS DONE 🫶🏼

[jals-stuff]

Taking care of it! p.2

That took ages because I had a shitton of things to do, apologies.

You can find part one here.

warnings: we talkin' about snakes here.

word count: 5.9k

note: i had a very specific ending planned and a very slight change in mood swept it all away, so there ya go.

The snake was now out of its egg and you were absolutely ecstatic. It was your first time actually caring for a pet, and you had even seen it come to life. Your petty rivalry with Orter didn't matter anymore and all you wanted now was to see what kind of colours Rivers would get as it sheds its old skin.

What you didn't know was if the beast was going to keep absorbing your energy as it kept growing or if it only took in emotions. Asking the teacher was out of the question, but you knew you'd find out about it quickly.

That night had been rather sleepless due to the excitement of seeing this adorable creature come out of its shell. You had carefully made a little nest inside one of your scarf and when the sun rose, you decided to take a little walk.

Orter was against the idea of letting you wander around on your own, because what if you just collapsed again? But it was all nonsense to you and you wrapped your scarf around your neck, then placed Rivers carefully on top of the cotton.

It didn't seem to mind being carried around, and at least it wasn't alone in your room. Walking around with a snake inside your scarf was unusual, but it was nothing compared to Orter’s heavy steps behind you as he just refused to let you be on your own.

“I’m just going to the store, Orter. I’ll be fine.”

“I don't want you to collapse and crush Rivers in the process.” Yes, that was his excuse. Truth is he wouldn't forgive himself if he left you alone in your current state. But he couldn't possibly tell you that, could he?

You did take offence in his words, though. Was he calling you fat? Ah, but again, he was pretty blunt by nature. The slight change in your expression made him panic just a little bit.

“And… if you get hurt, you won't be able to take care of Rivers anymore. This is a two-people assignment.” He added, pushing his glasses up a little bit. It was obvious what he thought, but you were pretty dense yourself.

“..right.” Was all you said before you entered the store, still carrying the mandragora snake inside your scarf. It felt nice to finally be able to walk around instead of letting him do everything. You bought some snacks, of course, and decided it was time for a little stroll in the Academy's gardens.

It really felt odd having Orter follow every single one of your steps and just pretending not to be here, staying all silent. He had his usual neutral expression, but the coldness in his eyes was a well-built wall to conceal his actual thoughts.

The sight of you being so excited about the snake and finally getting outside was refreshing, to say the least. You were walking slightly faster than him, and he had to take some of those comically big steps to catch up to you.

You were looking around as if you had never seen a plant in your entire life and he found that absolutely adorable. You sped up a little and so did he, and then…

You felt a little dizzy, as if your energy had vanished, and you stopped walking. The second your body leaned backwards, he was behind you to hold your shoulders so you wouldn't collapse. You looked up at him with a small sigh and just let out a stupidly childish chuckle.

“Ha! Thanks, Orter.” 

It absolutely melted his heart but he didn't say anything, just let you rest against him as he pushed his glasses back up, one of his hands firmly holding the back of your shoulder.

“See, this is why I insisted on coming. Had I not been here…”

“But you were. It's nice, thank you.” You just said, taking the opportunity to rest as you just leaned against him without really thinking, breathing deeply and hoping you'd quickly regain your energy. 

He didn't say anything to that, but you could feel his hand faintly tighten against your shoulder. A week ago, you would've panicked but somehow it felt relaxing now. You had to resist the sudden and very unexpected urge to put your hand on top of his. 

Of course you didn't do it, you were too busy wondering why you wanted to do such a thing. You were overthinking the hell out of it and for a second, it felt like Rivers was squirming around inside your scarf. 

You exhaled deeply and looked down at the small snake. “Oh, sorry Rivers. Too much?” And the snake flicked its tongue slightly in response. Orter looked down at it, then at you, as he had no clue what you meant by that.

Was he going to ask? Absolutely not. He would be damned the day he reveals even a portion of his feelings. Feelings? He couldn't place a word on what he was feeling, but he definitely didn't despise you anymore. 

You weren't planning on moving anytime soon but some students were kind of staring now and it was really embarrassing. “Um… I think I'm okay now.”

“Are you?” He asked and you really, really wanted to say that you weren't, that you needed him to just stay like this for a little longer, and that under no circumstance he should let go, but you just nodded, and his hand didn't simply leave your shoulder. It traced your arm down to your elbow before he cut contact completely. 

What is up with this guy? You wondered, but what was up with you as well? Rivers was almost going crazy with all of the emotions he had to absorb and it was only the first day. 

“Anyway… let's, um… go back..?” You suggested in an unsure tone, and he merely agreed. The way back felt like an eternity, confused students staring at the two of you, wondering why you're both headed for your dorm room. 

As soon as you took Rivers out of your scarf, Orter carefully held him and stared for a bit. He then just sat on the bed opposite to yours and kept it in his hands, looking at it as if he had never seen anything like this before.

“Isn't it so cute?”

“It…” ‘isn't nearly as cute as you’ was what he wanted to say but he decided not to. “...is, yes.” He kept looking at it in an intense effort not to stare at your amazed expression, with stars in your eyes as you gazed upon the adorable baby snake.

This was going to be one hell of a rough week. He had nothing to pour his attention into since there was no homework. He could read another book, but then you would probably think he doesn't want to talk to you, and gods, he does.

He could absolutely research more things about young mandragora snakes, but then you'd be left alone, what if you collapsed? What if you weren't feeling okay? What if you needed him for something and had to get out of your room and go out of your way to find him but ended up fainting again?

He was clearly overthinking and Rivers could feel it, slightly squirming in his hands. Orter came back to himself and blinked a few times, then sighed as he looked at the snake. “Oh, sorry.” He muttered, petting it with one of his fingers.

It was your turn to be confused as he apologised. For a second, you wondered if he, too, was overthinking, but… that was definitely not his style, why would he? An idea suddenly crossed his mind.

“We could go to the library and do some more research if you'd like.”

You thought for a bit; researching was an excellent idea and this way, you’d be making good use of your time while also staying with Orter. While also staying with Orter? When did that become a priority to you? Your thoughts were scrambled again and you just shook your head to dismiss them.

“Good idea, let’s go, you can have it.” You said as you started taking off your scarf, but he stopped you and just carefully placed Rivers inside of it. He couldn’t carry the snake, not if he had to pay attention to you in case something went wrong.

You assumed exactly that, as you didn’t oppose this decision and just grabbed a few snacks and left your room, followed by the straight-faced sandman. Everytime you started walking a little too fast, he would simply grab your sleeve to slow you down a little and give you this look, these eyes that practically said don’t waste your energy out loud.

And instead of rolling your eyes or being snarky like the old you would’ve done, you’d slow down, knowing he was right. You were paying attention to Rivers inside your scarf, sometimes patting the top of its head with your index finger and the little snake didn’t seem like it minded at all.

However as you did this, your eyes weren’t exactly focusing on the path and you felt something hit your whole front as you stumbled backwards, right into Orter’s chest and he put both hands on your shoulders to stabilise you. Looking up, you were met with a student’s annoyed glare.

“Hey, can you fucking watch it?”

“Ah—” You felt terribly sorry and you were about to apologise, but you felt the sand magic user’s hands tighten against your shoulders slightly, prompting you to stay quiet. His eyes travelled from your figure to the student’s face, giving him this cold look he was known for.

“Do we have a problem here?” He asked, and oh boy, you could feel the atmosphere brutally change, as if the air around the three (four, with baby Rivers) of you was thick and icy. You looked up towards Orter’s face and he was staring daggers at this poor guy, who just stepped back quickly.

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve paid more attention!” He stuttered, and this obviously should’ve been your line, but these golden eyes were too intimidating for anyone to handle. The student quickly left and Orter pushed his glasses up a little and blinked slowly, then looked down at you.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?”

Somehow, for some reason, for some goddamn reason, your heart was beating too quickly for your own good. You couldn’t even speak up, because if you did, the only thing that would come out is a choked out, high-pitched sound, as if to explain the amount of pressure your diaphragm was currently undergoing, and you only felt like screaming. Why? Was it badass, was it scary? Was it both?

A quick nod was enough for him to sigh softly in relief, and he gently pushed your shoulders forwards so you’d keep walking. And you did. The trip to the library was undisturbed after the earlier events, even if you kept glancing down at Rivers to check how it was doing. Orter pushed the door open for you, a true gentleman, you thought, and found a nice secluded spot for the two— three of you. 

You sat down and he immediately fetched some books on mandragora snakes. Now that you’re thinking about it, this library is really huge, it has books about anything and everything. You could get stuck in here and be busy for more than a lifetime reading all of them.

Both of you opened your own book to take some notes. This whole moment was silent until Orter heard you whisper something and, as he turned to face you, he saw you hunched over one of the pages with Rivers’ head slightly coming out of the scarf. His eyes travelled to said page and he thought he was going to implode. 

“Look here, Rivers!” You whispered and the snake followed your finger. You were… showing him pictures of other mandragora snakes, this time adult ones, and it seemed to be looking. The display was ridiculously adorable and he couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle and a faint smile as he watched you introduce Rivers to its congeners. How could you get any cuter when he thought it was impossible?

You glanced at Orter and found him staring at you with that very faint smile of his, and you couldn’t help but think he looked really handsome like this. The slight blush that crept upon your face was out of your control and you just pressed your lips together in an unfructuous attempt to hide it. 

“I-I’m sorry, did I disturb your reading..?”

He chuckled again, this time a little louder, at your worried expression. “No, of course not.” He looked at you with eyes full of kindness, a rare occurrence for a man like him. “By all means, do not let me interrupt.”

You couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you, though he did seem very sincere… but now that he had noticed, it felt a little embarrassing, and just as if he could feel it, he brought his book closer to you and pointed at a picture of a young mandragora snake and looked at Rivers. “Looks like you, buddy.”

You almost exploded at how cute that was of him, but said nothing and just watched him playfully pat the top of the snake’s head. Orter’s soft side was unknown to the public, and witnessing it had drastically improved your mood for today, and probably the days to come as well. 

The research session led you both to more notes on how to take care of a young mandragora snake and what their colour patterns mean. For example, the majority of this species gets glossy scales with purple flower patterns when they are healthy, but some rarer colours had been observed a few times in their natural habitat; specially strong specimens would have beautiful golden scales and very faint black flower patterns, some of them, mostly in captivity, would get darker green scales with white flower patterns, indicating they had absorbed a lot of anxiety from their owners.

Some had rocky, callous scales and looked really dangerous, just like the one your teacher had shown you in class, all of this coming from an angry environment. Others had darker patterns, or red flower patterns when the emotions they fed upon were love and care, some even had blue flower patterns if their owners were the dreamy type. 

Despite how interesting it was to learn about mandragora snakes, so far nothing had been too helpful, and you deemed your routine to be just fine. In the mornings, you’d feed Rivers pieces of mandragora roots, then talk to it, pet it, let it wander around the room… 

Come to think of it, since the day you had stopped biting back at Orter’s snarky remarks, he had only been very supportive and helpful. Was he just that nice? It did change pretty much everything you thought about him. When you glanced at his figure, he was just meticulously taking notes, really pouring his efforts into it. 

Your hand reached for the snacks, and you realised the pack was empty. At the sight of this, your stomach growled in protest and your face turned red from shame. Orter turned to face you and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to go to the cafeteria?”

You shyly nodded and he adjusted his tie before standing up and retrieving the books. “Alright, let us go, then. I think we have enough material now anyway.” Another nod of your head and you stood up, then felt like you were weighed down. 

“Did… did Rivers grow again? I feel like it’s getting heavier…” You muttered as you looked at the snake inside your scarf; it looked clueless. Of course it did, but it also looked a bit bigger than it was in the morning. “Look at you, you’re an even bigger baby now.” You cooed at the snake and it rubbed its head against your chin, making you giggle.

“I’ll measure it when we get back to our room, then.” He said and hearing him use the word our, for our room was doing… something to you. You dismissed the unusual emotion and stood up once more, carrying RIvers inside your scarf and with Orter’s hand hovering near your back to guide you.

The cafeteria was empty except for a few students who lingered after their lunch break, stalking the cook’s schedule to try and snipe one additional piece of dessert from the shelves. You were about to grab the chair you wanted to sit in, but Orter was faster than you and pulled it back so you could sit. 

“What do you want? I’ll bring it here.” 

Why was he being so… gentlemanly? You couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you with a slightly worried look. You let out an embarrassed chuckle and looked away from him, directly towards the tabletop. “Uhh… I’ll just have a bowl of rice, please…?”

“That’s it? A bowl of rice?” He raised his eyebrows at your answer, crossing his arms. “You need more nutrients than that, you’re clearly tired, you—” but he interrupted himself at the sight of your embarrassed expression. Not wanting to bother you any further with his concerns, he sighed and gave a nod. “Right. A bowl of rice it is, then.”

The way he was now trying to take care of your health was really endearing. Had he always been like this, you would’ve probably… 

Rivers squirmed a little inside your scarf, interrupting this thought that was making your heartbeat a little faster than you liked, and you gently rubbed the snake’s neck with your index finger. “Ah, again, huh? I’m sorry baby.” you muttered, looking at the snake. In fact, you had helped Rivers hatch, and taken care of it until now, so it technically was your baby… and Orter’s.

The thought got your face heat up at maximum level, and you had to press your lips together as you felt your cheeks contort into this uncomfortable blushing smile, the air blocked in your throat and your lungs begging for you to exhale, but you couldn’t, lest you’d just squeal in timidity. 

He put the bowl of rice down in front of you, making you jump in surprise a little, and mutter a quick “thank you” before digging in. It felt amazing to finally absorb some actual food other than snacks and sweets. You eyed Orter’s plate for a bit.

“Do you perhaps want some?” He asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head.

“Oh, no, no! I was just wondering if Rivers would like that. You know, since it eats mandragora roots…”

As if to test out that theory, Orter grabbed a piece of carrot and presented it to Rivers, who immediately flicked its tongue towards that new piece of food it was being introduced to. It chomped on the piece of carrot and swallowed it. “It seems to like vegetables in general, then.” Orter remarked, again with a faint smile.

You thanked the gods that he didn’t notice your expression, staring at his lips like they were a work of art, your heart gradually beating faster and faster, weakening you to no end as you hadn’t recovered from last week yet. 

With both of your dishes empty, Orter brought them back to the kitchen and both of you left the cafeteria to get back to the dorm room. Your steps were a little shaky and Orter noticed that; he walked a little closer to you so he would be able to catch you in case you fell. Upon feeling the way his hand hovered against your backside once more, your heart sped up yet again.

You did manage to walk to the door and open it, but your legs were trembling a little and he just knew you were about to fall. His arms gently supported your weight around your waist, closing the door behind him and walking you towards your bed. It was a bit embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt to have his arms wrapped around you.

He helped you sit, seating himself next to you and still holding your waist. “Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)?” But his question fell on deaf ears as the comfort his embrace brought you automatically made your body and brain shut down. Your head rested on his shoulder and he sat there for a while, a bit muzzy as he looked at your resting figure against his body. 

He would’ve been very nervous if you were awake, but it was fine right now. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm further around your waist, tightening his hold just a little bit as you slept calmly, Rivers doing the same inside of your scarf. It took all of his willpower not to laugh out loud at how cute the two of you were, his fingers gently caressing your face, moving your hair away from your cheeks. 

You exhaled quietly and nuzzled his shoulder and the side of his neck, and suddenly he couldn’t let go anymore. His heart was beating like crazy and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Suddenly, he felt the urge to keep you as close as he could. Suddenly, you were the remedy to his ills. Suddenly… he understood what this feeling was exactly.

His head was now resting against yours as his free hand was on your face, his thumb softly rubbing circles against your cheekbones. You seemed to appreciate the gesture, turning around just a little bit to face him, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his waist as well, making him think he was about to suffocate from the amount of affection he now felt towards you.

How could he reason now? The only barrier between him and his urges was the thought of rejection, but now you were holding him. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes and kissing the top of your head. He rested his back against the wall, sitting in your bed with you by his side, holding him, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Rivers was comfortably tucked in the cotton inside your scarf, sleeping soundly, and you were comfortably positioned with your head against his shoulder, arms wrapped securely around him and not letting go. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and opened it, reading with his free arm around you, holding you close.

However, this position was extremely comfortable, which led him to fall asleep, his hand holding the book now laying limp against his legs while still holding you. 

A few hours into the night, you woke up from Rivers’ slight movements inside your scarf. Your eyes fluttered open and you were immediately met with a pleasant smell; Orter’s. It barely took you a second to understand what kind of position the two of you were in, but this time there was no such thing as embarrassment. 

You simply reached for his glasses, taking them off and folding them delicately onto the nightstand, before you felt him slightly toss at your movements and, without warning, he completely laid down and pulled you against him, tightly holding you in his arms. Only then were you embarrassed.

What would the best approach be when both of you would wake up? Should you just go with the flow, or pretend you didn’t notice what happened? No, no. This would be Orter’s choice. If he decided to keep holding you while both of you were awake, you would gladly accept it. But then if he decided to pretend nothing happened, you’d oblige as well. 

But you didn’t concern yourself with any of this any further and simply didn’t resist his pull, letting him hold you close to him, with Rivers between the two of you, truly an adorable picture, you thought. It felt comforting and soothing, and you had no trouble falling back asleep even though you weren’t really that tired anymore.

…

As soon as Orter woke up, he had the reflex to pull you closer to him and move your hair away from your face before he realised what he was doing. He slowly pulled away, reluctantly leaving your embrace. Maybe, just maybe you hadn’t noticed any of this and he would be able to play dumb. 

He puts his glasses back on, not remembering when he took them off… but it didn’t matter. He simply sat on the opposite bed and grabbed his book again, throwing sneaky glances at you to see when you’d wake up.

It took you something like an hour to emerge completely, sitting up on your bed with Rivers partially out of the scarf now. You rubbed your hands against your face and took a deep breath, looking around you. Orter was sitting on his own bed… was that all a dream? No, no. The images from last night were way too vivid for your imagination to have created them. 

Then… was he going to say anything about it? You looked at him and he simply greeted you. “Good morning, (Y/N). How did you sleep?” His tone was still neutral, but it felt a little softer than usual. So he decided to play dumb, huh? Luckily, you were dumber.

“Oh, good morning. I slept like a baby. How’d you sleep?” 

He cleared his throat slightly at your words. Did you… did you know? Were you playing dumb with him? He narrowed his eyes slightly before pushing his glasses up a little. “I slept very well. What do you mean like a baby?”

You chuckled and sighed. “I mean I kept waking up every hour.” You could see his face become livid, and you held your laughter back. “I’m joking. I slept really, really well for some reason, I don’t know.”

“Oh, that is… good to know.” He coughed and felt the urge to divert your attention to something else. “Hey, didn’t… didn’t Rivers grow overnight?” At first it was only this, a mere attempt to make you focus on something else. But as he looked at Rivers, he realised that he was right. It had grown longer and heavier, too. It was now roughly the size of your arm, in both length and girth. 

Just how much was the little one going to grow? And what would the teacher even say? What would Rivers’ colour patterns be? So many questions without an answer, but you were sure it was all going to be fine. Somehow, the idea of having Orter with you through this comforted you into thinking such a thing. 

Somehow.

And you weren’t surprised anymore when, everyday for the following week, you woke up finding Rivers gradually getting bigger and bigger. It was getting heavy, but it was still a really cuddly, friendly creature. It was weird, the way it absorbed emotions.

What was it absorbing to grow so quickly? Orter had a flying suspicion on what it was, but he was going to take this secret to the grave, or so it seemed. You, on the other hand, were clueless. You were now on the sixth day and the little one was not so little anymore. 

Rivers seemed ready to shed and you would soon have to bring it to the teacher so they could reveal its colours. You were quite excited at the thought of discovering the beautiful patterns on its scales, and also the other students’ snakes. How did they all turn out, in the end? Would you also be allowed to keep Rivers?

…

It was still early in the evening and you were laying in bed. Orter was sitting on the chair by the nightstand, holding the snake and looking at it, rubbing its neck and patting its head. It was quite a cute display, really, and he was faintly smiling as well…

You shook your head slightly, dismissing these intrusive thoughts that started slithering into your mind, and decided to focus on the snake. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't guess what patterns it had, and you were getting pretty impatient.

Orter stood up from the chair and settled himself in his bed, back against the wall  with Rivers resting against his chest, one of his hands kind of resting against it as if holding it close to him. He grabbed his book and started reading, sometimes glancing at the snake and mumbling incomprehensible things to it. 

You decide to get out of your bed and sit on the edge of his to pet Rivers, and he immediately lowers his book and puts it away. “I don’t know if it was supposed to grow that much?” You wonder, out loud. “The ones we saw were… well, much smaller, right?”

Orter looks at the snake and boops its head. “Mmm.” He hums softly before raising an eyebrow and chuckling quietly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a big baby. Aren’t you, Rivers?”

You looked away from him immediately, hearing him speak to the snake in such a calm, tender tone was too much for your heart to handle and you were about to explode in a loud screech at how utterly adorable that was, and how you didn’t expect this. This cold looking, straight-faced man had been acting so tenderly these last few days, you didn’t even know if he was the guy you had been paired up with anymore.

You wanted to ask why he changed so much and what happened, but would he not take offence? Still avoiding his eyes, you thought of a way to ask him.

“You sure grew softer these last few days, Orter.” Your tone wasn’t aggressive nor mocking, and was accompanied with a faint, gentle smile so he wouldn’t think you’re criticising him. And it didn’t seem to bother him at all, his eyes travelled from the snake to your own, looking like he was forcing himself to look cold and distant.

“Did I, now?”

“Definitely. It’s… strange.” You trailed off, then realised he could take it in a bad way. “I mean— not bad. It’s different. It’s… unexpected? I um…” You were stuttering now and panicking slightly, not wanting to upset him or anything. “I think it’s very—” lovely? Or perhaps likeable? Both options could make it seem like you were confessing, really.

“I know you mean it in a good way, you don’t have to torture yourself like this.” 

You exhaled in relief at his understanding and looked out the window. You knew that tomorrow, this lovely little assignment would be over, and it made you feel a little bitter. The thought of having to let go of this little routine you had quickly gotten used to was filling you with emptiness, ironically. 

Only two things were certain in your mind right now: you wanted to keep both of them. How did a cold jerk and a snake become that important to you in such a short amount of time?

Your eyes travelled to Orter’s face again, taking in this gentle expression of his, and now it was starting to make sense. The reason why you couldn't take your eyes off him, why your heart was going crazy at every single touch of his hand.

You had fallen for this guy. Hard.

The thought made you blush slightly, and he pretended not to notice. Did he even like you… back? Did he simply put his rude, cold personality on hold just for the assignment? Was his old self going to resurface then? Was it really the end of these good times? If you could keep Rivers, maybe Orter would stay, too? 

You were spiralling into overthinking once again, and didn’t notice his golden eyes on yours while you were simply staring off. He didn’t say anything and merely looked at your troubled expression, slightly amused. It had become a little game of his own now, trying to guess whatever was going through your mind when you stared off like this.

“You should probably sleep, you look pretty tired.” Orter said, in a very gentle tone you had grown accustomed to, maybe a bit too much. But sleeping was a bit like time travelling; you close your eyes and suddenly wake up a little later into the future. You didn’t want that, you wanted this moment to last for as long as it could.

“Absolutely not.” You muttered, and for a second, your tone had him slightly worried, but he wasn’t going to question it. He simply grabbed Rivers and came sitting next to you to let you hold it. For a split second, the thought of asking him to hold you while you two were sitting and looking at the snake crossed your mind; you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

The very simple feeling of sitting next to him, his leg and arm against yours, was intoxicating enough, but it wasn’t enough, so to speak. It was getting later and later and you just wanted to hold on to this moment, you were unspeakably exhausted but you couldn’t let go. Your entire personality (and his) had shifted in only a fortnight and you weren’t sure how you managed to live like this before. 

Orter’s mind, on the other hand, wasn’t going through angst the way yours was. He could only tell you were very agitated, and as dense as he was, thought that maybe, just earlier, you weren’t staring at him for no reason. He knew you were falling asleep already but kept holding on to awakeness, and it somehow felt really cute to him.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know?”

That sigh you didn’t know you were holding finally came out, and as if his words were a lullaby, you started falling asleep again, sitting next to him, not caring about your head that threatened to fall limp against his shoulder anymore. With this, you just… let go.

The noise of your front door closing brought you out of your trip down to memory lane. Everything in there was so vivid you could’ve sworn it happened yesterday, or the week prior. You closed your diary and walked towards the vivarium in your room, taking Rivers out of it and carrying it over your shoulders as you walked downstairs. 

Grocery bags all over the kitchen floor, he went all out this time, you thought, but at least there was enough material to make some really good dinner. 

“I’ve been reading the diary I was keeping during our graduate years.” You chuckled and held Rivers up, another pair of hands catching it and letting it slither around these arms. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? That was so long ago, but I can remember it all very clearly.”

“Mm, no wonder, it’s the same for me.” Orter said as he ran his fingers against Rivers’ beautiful red, flowery patterns. With a very slight smile on his lips, only for you, he simply took off his coat and hung it in the entrance before wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a quick kiss on your lips, as usual. 

“There’s so much stuff, I don’t even know what I could cook with all of this.” You muttered, resting your head against his chest, and he merely chuckled once more and kissed the top of your head.

“Let’s just eat outside tonight, darling.”

Maybe group assignments aren’t always the worst. 

..........................................................

taglist: @babyorphanstastegood @squishychongyun

[chemblrish]

Subatomic particles from a chemist's point of view - part I: the electron

This proposition actually came second in my poll, but it still had quite a lot of votes + I really wanted to write it, so here it is. Initially, I was going to make a single post, but when I finished writing the part about the electron I thought it was getting a tad long. I decided splitting this post might make it easier to digest :)

Peeking inside the atom

What is a subatomic particle? As the name hints, it’s any particle smaller than an atom. This means that electrons, protons, and neutrons all fall into this category. Protons and neutrons are made of quarks and there are also many different subatomic particles that the relentless researchers of CERN keep on cooking up, but I’m not going to talk about them because do I look like a physicist to you? Let them get excited (and despaired) about the wild assortment of the little guys making up the Standard Model. I’ll stick to the particles that chemistry finds especially important: electrons, protons, and neutrons.

Electron

Ah yes, chemistry’s specialest guy, the rockstar of this science: the electron. Arguably the most important particle for chemistry. If you’ve taken high school science then I don’t need to explain why that’s so, but just in case you actually slept through those classes (shame on you) I have one word for you: bonds. Okay, maybe two words will work better here: chemical bonds.

Chemical bonds

Atoms bind together to make the gaseous oxygen we breathe, the sucrose that dissolves in our coffee and the caffeine in said coffee, the proteins that build your body, and the ibuprofen we all worship using electrons. In fact, if chemistry is the study of matter and the reactions and changes it can undergo, then there is no chemistry without electrons. Chemistry exists because electrons do what they do.

So what do they do? Again, even if you never went any further than high school science classes, you probably remember that atoms are made up of shells (sort of like an onion or an ogre only it’s a stupidly complicated onion) with a nucleus in the middle. Those shells are made up of subshells and subshells are made up of orbitals. Phew. Within shells sit the electrons, but it’s the outermost ones that make chemists all excited (or despaired), because they’re the ones taking part in chemical reactions and forming chemical bonds. We call them valence electrons.

Valence electrons can do all sorts of things to make atoms form molecules. The valence electrons of two separate atoms can bind them together by mixing their orbitals and then sitting there in the single smoothie of the new orbital, now shared by both of the atoms. This process is called hybridization and the bond that’s formed here is called the covalent bond.

Actually, you get two new orbitals or rather as many as there were before this mixing and shuffling. Hybridization is a relatively difficult concept for newbies though, so don’t worry about that.

However, some atoms are greedy and they aren’t willing to share their electrons with anyone. They can form chemical bonds by stealing other atoms’ electrons and turning into ions: and thus turning those other – more generous – atoms into ions as well. This we call the ionic bond. There’s a third option too, chosen readily by metals because metals are commies: the metallic bond. Atoms forming this kind of bond stick together thanks to an electron “cloud” made up of the valence electrons of all those atoms, permeating the lattice this creates and conducting electricity (because they’re called electrons for a reason, right?).

Properties of the electron

Charge: negative one elementary electric charge, AKA -1.602×10^(−19) C (thank you Mr. Millikan).

Mass: 9.109 ×10^(−31) kg (uwu).

Radius: are you out of your mind?

I mean. Theoretical / particle physicists are very much concerned with figuring out the radius of the electron. Good for them! But it doesn’t matter here.

Look. There’s a handful of things that they drill into your head during a chemistry degree: no food in the lab; safety goggles on or I’ll fucking kill you; you only get to keep your dignity until you splash yourself with acid; there is no god, there is only Atkins; everything is a model; and finally – THE ELECTRON IS NOT JUST A PARTICLE OKAY it’s not a teeny tiny marble orbiting the nucleus going wheee!, it’s a quantum bastard that interferes with itself like a wave, then shoots across the apparatus you thought was clever like a particle once you set a trap, it’s an indecisive, secretive, sly asshole that makes chemistry, at its very core, a quantum nightmare of inhuman integrals, spheres, and some donut-shaped absurdities in the place of the onion-like atom model you know from school, I mean look at this thing for god’s sake

Anyway.

We don’t know the exact radius of the electron. Estimates have been made but no final answer. Why? Please ask a physicist. Your resident tumblr chemist signing off for now.

[tinybeetiny]

7 Thousand Miles: S.M

MingiXafab!Reader

fluff

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

CW: some explicit language (nothing major), Yunho and Wooyoung mentioned

masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

"I miss you lots babe. I can't for our next break, ready to see you" Mingi pouts as he stares at the screen, it's not the same. He'd much rather have you here with him than via video chat. The feeling was mutual though. You missed his touch, his presence, his morning voice, his smell, the cuddles, everything. The screen time wasn't enough, you NEEDED to see him. Mingi unwillingly hung up after being summoned by Hongjoong leaving you to ponder on how you were going to plan this and who you'd turn to for help.

"No no no it's going to be perfect I promise, I'll be there in a few minutes, Terminal B right?" Yunho asked over the phone "Yeah, I'm at baggage claim right now so it should be another 10ish minutes” you sigh feeling your foot tapping in impatience. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Mingi and each ticking second felt like decades. Once you FINALLY retrieve your bags you raced to the exit to find Yunho standing with an obnoxious sign waiting for you. You debated if you wanted to just act like you didn’t know but unfortunately he didn’t give you that option “HEY (Y/N) OVER HERE! HEY I’M RIGHT HERE. LOOK” Yunho yelled basically loud enough for all of LAX to hear. You mentally facepalmed hoping no one recognized him. Luckily you were able to get to the car without a mob swarming. “So, it’s been 3 months since you’ve seen him. Are you excited?” Yunho questioned, stupidly. You turned to give him a look that screamed ‘duh’ to which he chuckled and threw his hands up in defense.

It took about 15 minutes to get to your hotel and the whole time Yunho went on and on about how whiney Mingi’s been recently. “The sound check is in a couple hours, I’ll send a car to come get you. Text me when you get to the arena and we’ll go from there.” He said before you exit the car, you thank him, bidding your goodbyes and walking to check into your room. For the next two hours you spent getting ready, fortunately, as soon as you were done you got a text saying that the car was waiting for you, grabbing your things you raced down not bothering to use the elevator. The car ride over was excruciatingly long. Your anticipation making it harder and harder for you to wait. It’s been way too long since you’ve been able to hold your lover and now you were only mere miles away. When you finally arrive to the arena, you throw the door open, quickly thanking the driver, rushing to the doors. Yunho seemed to be already waiting for your arrival "It's okay, she's with me" He told security as you passed through the many halls. There were so many people moving around trying to get ready for tonight's show it was hard to make anyone out. Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and spinning around "OH MY GOSH (Y/N) I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE ACTUALLY HERE, MINGI IS GOING TO FRREEAAAK" "Wooyoung put her down. You're going to make her sick" Yunho laughed as he tried to get the excited boy to put you down. Wooyoung reluctantly put you back on the ground, steading yourself on Yunho "Where is Mingi?" You asked looking around at the many people "Hongjoong is making him go over his parts again, he's been a little out of it lately, his dressing room is this way though" Wooyoung says as he leads you through "It's okay if I wait in here right?" You ask nervous that someone will say something "PSH of course it is, he shouldn't be long" He winks, walking out.

It's been 10 minutes already and you can't stop your leg from shaking in anticipation. Any minute he's going to walk through that door, any minute you're going to see your beautiful boyfriend. You nearly jump out of your seat when you hear voices outside of the door "I don't need to go in my dressing room for anything, I want to go pee" You hear Mingi whine "Oh.... well yeah do that first but then change after, you smell gross" Yunho replies their voices getting smaller and smaller as they walk away. You sigh sitting back down, feeling slightly disappointed but you don't really want Mingi to pee himself when he sees you. But the longer you have to wait the more your anxiety goes, you nearly shit yourself when you hear the doorknob turn "Okay Yunho I'm going in, see! Happy" Mingi says dramatically "No, but you're about to be" Mingi gives him a confused look as he pushes open the door. You stand when you finally see him, it's been 3 months since you last saw him, his hair was longer and maaan did it suit him. He didn't notice you when he first walked in, immediately taking his shirt off, your eyes widen as you clear your throat to make your presence known. Mingi jumps and turns with a little scream clutching his heart. The fear instantly dissipates when he realizes it's you "Am I hallucinating?" He asks. You shake your head as you step closer to him. Mingi, with zero hesitation, takes you in his arms and you're not sure if he can squeeze you any harder but you squeeze him back with just as much enthusiasm. "I can't believe you're actually here! How did you even- wow I just- wow" you laugh at how he stutters. He suddenly stops looking you so deeply in the eyes you feel as though he can see your soul "I've missed you so much" he says before FINALLY pressing his lips to yours, your hands find his hair pushing him impossibly closer. He pulls away breathless "I've waited way too long to do that" You say laughing out of breath.

[bucknastysbabe]

himbo criston pls i need him

Thinkin’ with my— skills! • C.Cole

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Criston is really fucking stupid but good at stuff and things, the Peloton affirmations, shower sex, pnv!sex, he’s a puppy your honor, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, needy needy bb, malewife tendencies, short n sweet n dirty.

Taglist: @valeskafics @fairysluna @arcielee @sugarpoppss2, @lovelykhaleesiii @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @bambitas @moncherrii

You were awoken. On a Sunday morning. The morning where you got to sleep in. Sitting up and stretching, you listened to the commotion which awakened you. You flopped back down registering the sounds of the stupid expensive peloton your boyfriend-lover?-malewife Criston had to have.

It was a nice mixture of grunts and affirmations between him mumbling, “Fuck yes. I am good!”

You rolled onto your stomach, no, you weren’t going to go back to sleep. Why the fuck would he even leave the door open? Climbing out of bed you pulled on your sweatpants— it was either naked or underwear considering Criston was a fucking furnace.

Passing him by he waved with a smile, “Morning love!”

You grumbled “Don’t you have work, or headphones?”

Criston’s stupidly happy face fell a bit. He replied, “It’s my off day, and I forgot! Sorry!” You waved him off and went to make some cereal, then maybe watch your idiot man on a bike. He was only clad in some tiny shorts, might as well enjoy the glistening tan view.

Watching his thighs flex and medals clink across his delightfully hairy chest, you no longer held any qualms about dummy waking you up. Criston took note embarrassingly late and grinned, flexing like a goofball.

“Like what you see babe?”

You waved your spoon at him to laugh, “No talking, I’m just observing!” He pouted and returned to the set before he finished, shooting one more pitiful look, dark curls adorably plastered to his forehead. He bowed when you clapped, “Bravo, bravo Sir Criston of the Peloton!” There. Now he was happy.

Then he started coming toward you. All sweaty. Which would be different when he’s balls deep inside of you! You began to scramble away, hollering, “No, no, no you’ll stink!” You were enveloped into a sweaty body, fake retching and heaving. Ah, you were dropped. Ow you were dropped!

Criston looked puzzled as you did not puke. You glared up at him and complained, “I wasn’t actually puking dumbass!” Sometimes you wondered how he was a successful handyman in town who owned an entire business when he did things such as this. One time he bit into a fake apple— that sort of dumb, like he continued chewing before realizing. The brunette frowned, “Oh my bad. Sorry baby.”

Now you were back against sweaty body, heading toward the shower. Criston rumbled, “We both have to take a shower now. I got you good.” You chose to laugh along and not bring up the time you convinced him the Earth was flat. He was good with tools, everyone had their talents!

Regardless of IQ questioning, you were quite excited when he pressed you up against the glass of the shower, blindly reaching inside to turn the water on as he kissed and mouthed at your neck. The sound of the water began and Criston yanked down your panties and sweats, groaning softly.

You pulled off your bra, breathlessly questioning.

“Criston! Y-you just got done working out, ah right there baby, and you wanna fuck?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, big hands on your tits, thumbing at a peaked nipple. His long hair tickled at your shoulder, stubbled chin and soft lips nibbling at your neck. You gasped, reaching back to press him against your ass, groaning at that gorgeous cock hot and flushed.

“Fuck, love when you watch me, turns me on,” he rambled, managing to get a couple sloppy kisses from your mouth, still massaging at your chest. You panted back, “Love watching you handsome, c’mon, let’s get in the shower.”

Brown eyes blinked and he seemed to come out of a haze, dropping his tiny shorts and groaning when it slapped against his taught belly. You rasped, “C’mon stud, in the damn water, wash first.” He seemed to disagree with your plan but was shoved down to the bench anyways.

You weren’t going to ever miss a chance to feel up his godly body. Even if he got a little whiny about it. Whiny Criston was cute, scrunched nose and stupid little questions. Soaping up a rag you kissed his cute nose and began washing his upper body. God- you may have spent too much time on his chest, the man was squirming.

Criston complained, “C’mon baby, c’mooon.” Puppy eyes glanced at you. You shook your head to move down to the lower half— feet up to his most tender areas. You were pretty sure you had a mini-orgasm when you touched his cock and balls— the man gasping out and fucking his hips forward, pleading a bit.

“Just your hair left baby,” you cooed to another annoyed gasp of your name. Criston may fuck the shit out of you, but he always listened to commands. He complained again, “Come onnnnn, m’so hard, you look good.” His hands wrapped around your hips, one moving to paw at the flesh of your ass.

Ignoring him you shampooed dark curls, combing through them as he groped you. You cried out when the man’s lips covered your nipple, needily suckling. “F-fucking hell, I’m almost done!,” came your weak chiding. He merely looked up and smiled around your tit. Ushering the needy thing up you pushed him under the hot stream of water.

“You’re so whiny you know that?”

“You took too long, I wanna fuck my girl, like what if I got backed up?” Criston retorted.

Ugh. He made you throb. Even if he was fucking stupid.

Smoothing back his dark hair, Criston closed into your frame, shoving you back to the bench this time and dropping to his knees. Big hands kept you spread as your boyfriend kissed up trembling thighs. He lapped at your soaked cunt, moaning, then flicking his tongue against your clit.

Criston was good with his mouth. And hands. And cock. He hummed around your clit, fingers pumping you and dragging along the soft spot, gorgeous dark orbs watching your face. You couldn’t stop mewling and whining, legs wrapped around his broad shoulders. You had bitten your lip bloody to keep from wailing.

“Aaaah- oh Criston- fuck! M’close, mmmm!”

He only seemed to move faster, suckling at your clit, driving his fingers deeper, the sensation of stubble driving you wild. His other hand slid up your body, tanned hand encircling your throat and barely squeezing.

“Fucking shit!,” you wheezed before falling into a fit of whines and moans, seizing around his pretty face. Your belly tightened along with your back, riding out the orgasm on the man’s face. Criston had you so fucked out already it wasn’t much a chore to lift you up and onto his cock.

He groaned deeply, pressing your back against the wall, the warm warm cascading over you both. Criston’s thick fucking cock had you split open, the girth never changed. Somehow you were a sloppy mess every time. Didn’t matter. He grinned against your flushed cheek, mumbling, “S’tight baby, god, I love you.”

He held you in place, his flat chest rubbing against your tits, fucking up in powerful motions. You held your head back against the stone tile, panting, eyes locked with his own. “Criston, Criston, Criston,” you chanted softly, writhing. He whined through his nose, taking your lips in a desperate move, smashing his nose against your own.

You took his tongue and cock, rendered a shivering mess. But Criston had a lot of damn stamina, cock full and pulsing. Barreling it’s way through your tight walls, rubbing that spot near your cervix. You’d end up in tears most times when he abused that place, cumming so hard you were all snot and tears.

You kissed him back, gasping into warm lips, your pussy being thoroughly abused with loud smacks. Criston growled, slapping your ass, “Mine yeah? S’all mine. Whose cunt is this?” He smacked your ass again, demanding.

“Yours, all yours baby, Criston fuck!”

“That’s not my whole name.”

Fucking hell you could barely string together a sentence and he wanted his entire name? Criston continued, “There’s other Cristons, whose cunt is this?” Your eyes rolled back as he angled his hips again.

“Criston Cole, my pussy belongs to you!,” you gasped raggedly. He smirked and kissed your cheek, all smiley like he wasn’t rearranging internal organs. “Good girl,” he rasped, “You’re so pretty, love you.” You melted a bit, wrapping your arms tighter around tan neck, too strung out to properly kiss the sweetie.

He grunted, readjusting himself, friction now fiery against your cervix, your g-spot when he drug out. You cried helplessly, heaving and practically screaming in pleasure. Criston looked delighted, rambling, “Fuck baby, you’re, oh, uh, oh my god!” Sweet boy was hit or miss with dirty talk.

“Come on, cum on me baby, come on,” he pled, eyes watery now, hips twitching, showing the first sign he might be close. You nodded, blubbering in response, overbearing heat building upwards from your cunt, into your belly and frayed nerves. Criston took a swipe at your clit, puffy lips against your own, swallowing up your wail as you released onto his cock.

Criston’s hips stuttered at the rush of thickened cum around his cock, whining at you.

“Criston, ba-baaaby, you gonna cum in your pussy? It belongs to you,” you stammered out, overstimulated to the point of some cohesion? He whined again, excitement lacing his tone, “Yeah, yeah, keep talking!” You smirked a bit, mildly entertained regardless of scrambled cunt.

“Pretty booooy, my Criston, wan’ you to fill me up, stuff your pussy up. M’so empty!,” you goaded. His reaction was like a car crashing, hips colliding into you, eyes scrunched as he moaned long and loud, cock pumping load after load into your sore channel. Pretty tears gathered at the corner of dark eyes, him nuzzling into your face like the puppy he was.

He finished up with a soft noise, plopping you both down on the bench, resting his forehead on your shoulder— softening cock still deep inside of you. You were about to slide off before big hands held you in place. Criston stated, “No. If you stay here in the heat, it’s like the sperm’s home, my balls, therefore you’d be easier to knock up.”

“Criston.”

“What?,” he seemed confuddled you weren’t getting it.

“I’m on birth control.”

“Ugh. Right,” he muttered while sliding out. The sight of his cum slipping out of you seemed to please the idiot. You tried to hold back delirious laughter as he would get his ‘widdle feewings’ hurt. Kissing his sloped nose you cooed, “One day babes, don’t worry. Can we go cuddle or sleep or something now?”

He nodded, “Yeah babe, can we watch 300 again?”

Sigh.

“Yes Criston we can watch 300 again.”