#he's still an anxiety ridden mess

[spooky-scary-hedgies]

Just doodles of my son.

[mclarensangel]

Our Girl

Warnings: body shaming, panic attack, insecurity, idiots in love, kissing, flirty comments, couple being obsessed with each other. if there is anything I missed, please let me know!

word count: 3.8k before images

You were in one of the hottest countries in the world with Lando. Abu Dhabi was gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. But boy was it hot. You had tried to pack clothes that would be good for the weather, but you didn’t want clothes that made you shapeless. Being friends with Lando meant that you would likely be on camera at least once, especially with the boy having the energy of a 5-year-old and being best friends with anyone and everyone on the grid. And so, with Lando being so well loved, you knew that if you were seen with him, then people would notice the big girl standing in the back constantly. Your outfit had to be perfect, at least to you. In your head, if your outfit had to be perfect to try and reduce the fallout that would no doubt come for you on Twitter. 

You loved Lando, probably more than you should, not that you would tell him. But the women that he had been seen with, were gorgeous. You keep telling yourself that you're gorgeous too but these were model-worthy women, and that, as you had been told many times, were not. So this outfit had to be perfect. It had to be perfect for him, for you, for all the women that looked like you. 

So this is how you ended up standing in a room with Lando’s baggage as well as your own, anxiety filling you after you had been told at reception that there was only one room left. And to make things worse? It only had one bed. This hadn’t been a problem before, having known him since you were 5, you had shared a bed plenty of times, but now? Now you were head over heels in love with the curly-haired man. And you had to pretend that you weren't. But that wasn’t your biggest problem right now. Right now, your biggest problem was getting ready and getting to the grid on time, you could tell Lando about the bed situation later. And anyway, there was a sofa, you could try and cover yourself up with the end blanket off of the bed, on the sofa. Lando would need the bed anyway, he has the biggest job to do here. And so to sum it all up, all of these reasons are what led you to stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, nearly in tears as you looked at your reflection. You didn’t hate your body, in fact, you were your biggest fan, but the anxiety of everything was eating you up from the inside out. Every piece of fabric felt like it was clinging to your body. You have to take a deep breath you keep telling yourself. 

Your phone ringing from the desk nearby pulled you from your anxiety-ridden trance. Picking up your phone you see Lando’s contact lighting up your phone screen. The image itself makes you laugh. The man had made it as a surprise to make you laugh when you were having a bad day a few weeks ago even though it had some pictures in it that he hated. And he wouldn’t tell you, but he would use the worst images of him in the universe again if it made you smile the way it did again. 

Although the picture made you smile, the anxiety still bubbling within you made your thumb hesitate over the reject button before pressing the accept button. 

L: Hello?

       Y/N: Lando? What’s up? Is everything okay? Are you h-?

          L: I’m okay, breath, I'm okay. I just wanted to ask what room I’m in.

Fuck. 

     Y/N: Uh, about that… 

The line stayed quiet as Lando waited for you to continue, and realising that you weren’t, he tried to push you for your answer as gently as possible 

       L: yeah?

  Y/N: Sotheysortofmessedupandtheresonlyonehotelroombetweenthetwoofusanditonlyhasonebed.

     L: What? Remember what I said about breathing? Take a breath and then tell me, again. Okay? 

Taking what might have been the biggest breath of your life you repeat yourself

Y/N: They messed up the rooms

   L: okay?

Y/N: And there’s only one hotel room between the two of us

   L: right…

Y/N: it only has one bed 

   L: Darlin’ I'm not seeing the problem here, we’ve shared a bed before. What room are we in?

Y/N: 410

   L: Okay, I’ll see you in a minute okay

Y/N: Okay. 

You both hang up the one at the same time, something that has come with being friends for such a long time. With a shaky breath, you throw your phone back onto the desk before making your way to hide in the bathroom knowing that Lando would want to know why you’re so anxious about sharing a bed all of a sudden. You catch yourself in the mirror again, and somehow you hate how you look even more than in the lights of the bedroom. Your hands feel cold all of a sudden, and that’s when you look down at them to realise that your hands are gripping the marble counter. The coldness of the counter does nothing to help calm down the feeling of anxiety that is threatening to bubble over. Tears begin to cloud your vision, building up over your vision, leaving everything blurry. You couldn’t help but feel that everything about your outfit was wrong. The corset is too tight, the skirt too long, the shoes too high, and your hair too tight. You had wanted to surprise Lando with your outfit. Hoping that maybe it might change the way he looks at you. But the more you look at yourself in the mirror the more you doubt it. Your brain reminds you of his friends, his ex-girlfriends, hell even his colleagues. 

Trying to loosen the ribbon at the back of your corset, you felt like the room was closing in around you. The gesture of having an old McLaren t-shirt of his turned into a corset, his name and number being the main focus of it. You had tried to pair it with a silk black skirt. You wanted to try and match the skirt to the rest of the outfit by wearing some flatform sandals with a silver buckle. Around your neck, you were trying to put on a silver necklace with the initial ‘L’ hanging down from the chain. Your hair was pulled back from around your face and pulled into an elegant silver claw clip. From your ears was a pair of simple diamond studs that had a climber attached to it, that Lando had brought you for your birthday after he signed his first contract with McLaren. And finally, you had some simple silver bracelets, an orange beaded bracelet with LN in heart-shaped beads, and some simple silver diamond rings that your parents had gifted you for your 21st birthday. When you had planned the outfit, it all felt perfect, but now it felt oh so wrong. Too in your head about everything, you hadn’t noticed Lando enter the hotel room, let alone the bathroom. It wasn't till you felt his warm arms surround you that you even noticed he was there. 

“Whats wrong darlin’,” he asks, his arms wrapped around your waist. His voice and warmth surrounding you made the tears finally fall from your eyes. Your anxiety finally bubbling over. 

“Everything” you manage to get out before the sobs quickly follow. Lando doesn’t say anything, a thousand thoughts running through his head as he sees his best friend break down in his arms. He looks around the room, noticing your washbag by the shower, your makeup bag on the counter and a necklace near the edge of the sink. “Let's sit down,” Lando says, trying to take a few steps backwards to be able to lean against the wall. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for you to freak out as he pulled you back. 

Your breath suddenly became laboured, the tears began falling quicker. And the safe feeling of Lando’s arms around you? Suddenly they all felt too suffocating. Why was he even here? Why did he ask you? He has plenty of other friends that were so much better looking. Was he trying to embarrass you by bringing you here? Trying to clear your sight, you look around the room trying to find the escape, but nothing was working and it felt like the walls were getting closer and closer to each other. You feel your body go into auto-drive as you take a few steps back. Suddenly, your back hit the glass of the shower door. The cold of the glass sends you even further into a spiral. 

Lando stood in the corner of the room watching you. He had seen you have an anxiety attack before but never as bad as this. He was panicking inside but he knew that if you were able to see him and saw him freaking out, you would freak out more. Taking a deep breath, he made his way towards you once more. 

“Y/N?” You heard him ask. But your mind was running faster than his McLaren car. You tried to respond but you couldn’t. Your vision was grey and your body felt like it was shaking enough for people to think that there was an earthquake. 

Trying to think back to how he had calmed you down before during an anxiety attack, Lando finally remembered. He quickly ran out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, first running towards the bed, he ripped the heavy blanket from the foot of the bed before running to his suitcase, practically throwing it to the floor, he unzipped it and pulled the first hoodie he saw from the neat piles of clothes. Having all of the items he needed, he sped back to the bathroom, noticing you still spiralling near the shower. Not wanting to scare you he moved slowly towards you. He took his hoodie, placed it into your hands, and pushed your hands towards your face. He let out a breath of relief when he saw you pause for a second. But the relief didn’t last very long when the sobs became even harder. He knew what he needed to do next. He took the blanket and wrapped you in it as tightly as possible before pulling you into his arms once again. 

You didn’t know what was happening but all you could smell was Lando and the pressure of something wrapped around you. The smell of him and the pressure helping you to slowly come back down to earth. You push your face further into whatever it was that smelt like him. The dizzy feeling not wanting to leave you be just yet. 

Seeing you slowly calm down, Lando knew that this would probably be the best moment to pull you towards the floor. Holding onto you, he began crouching down, your body following him slowly. And when he managed to get to the floor, he leaned against the wall near the shower door and pulled you close to him. From here he could hear your breathing slow down, the sobs turning to sniffles. And when the sniffles slowly stopped, he spoke

“What's wrong, love?” he asked, his voice soft and yet full of worry. The girl in his arms doesn’t respond.  

“Sweetheart?” he prods. There is a pause before the woman speaks. “You shouldn’t be seen with me” she almost whispers. Lando stills his hand from where it was running up and down her arm. “What?” he responds. His voice was almost angry. You didn’t respond. Lando pushed himself forward. Pushing you up so that he could look into your eyes. 

You could feel the anxiety bubble up again as you saw so many emotions in his beautiful eyes. “Why shouldn’t I be seen with you? I mean look at you!” He speaks, his voice calm but confused. “Exactly,” you mutter hoping that he doesn’t hear you. But, he did. “Has someone said something to you?” he asks, trying to figure out what had caused you to feel this way. “I saw a comment on the Quadrant Instagram” you start, feeling the tears in your eyes begin to well up again. You keep your head down not wanting to make eye contact with the man in front of you. “It was the one where you’d asked me to model one of your t-shirts, where we were matching” you finish with a sniffle. You look at Lando quickly before looking away when you see the anger on his face. “They said, that you deserve better friends and that someone as big as me shouldn’t even be in the same room as you in case I crush you” you say, the feeling of getting what someone had said off your chest making you feel like you can breathe a little bit better. “And then the receptionist earlier, recognised me from the pictures where I’ve been seen with you, and she was nice to my face, but when I had gone behind the wall to put some stuff back into my backpack, I heard her say-” you spoke before being cut off by Lando’s angry voice “What did she say?” “she said” you pause “as if she thinks that god of a man would even sleep in the same bed as her fatass. He’s probably worried she’d turn over in the night and crush him to death. Fat bitch” By the end of your sentence, Lando had moved to stand up and was moving towards the bathroom door. “Please don’t leave me,” you said into the quiet room as Lando got to the door. He stopped with his hand on the door handle, his knuckles white as he tried to reign in his anger at what he had been told.

—--------------------- lando pov

How fucking dare that woman say anything about his girl. What gave her the right to say something so disgusting? So untrue? The door handle beginning to feel warm in his hand is what brought him back to reality. He turned to see the woman who had always been so strong, so self-confident about herself, in pieces on their hotel bathroom floor. It’s something he never thought he would see. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. Should he call someone? No. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this. He sighed, seeing you sitting on the floor, still looking so gorgeous, with your head down and leaning against the shower door. He moves to sit next to you again, sitting as close as possible to you. Close enough that he could smell your signature sweet perfume. Close enough that he can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. He saw you cautiously place your head on his shoulder, making him smile. He moves his arm so that you can cuddle up to him easier. His fingers trace the material of your shirt. Looking down, he realises it's a corset, and the sight makes him blush. The fabric of the material feels familiar to him. He pushes you to sit up a little bit. And in that moment, he realises. He realises that he has been in love with you. He has been since he was 14 when you were the first person to run to him to celebrate his CIK-FIA World Championship. Maybe he’d just been pretending this whole time that he didn’t love you, or maybe he didn’t want to believe it, in case it meant that he would lose you. He looks down at your outfit, finally noticing the corset properly. His cheeks heat up when he realises what it is. It was his top that he had signed for her after his first podium, he couldn’t believe that you would have kept the t-shirt this long and how you’d managed to keep it in good condition from the 2020 Austrian Grand Prix champagne shower. The corset had his surname (and he definitely hadn’t had dreams in the past of it being your surname too, absolutely not) written right at the top with his number underneath. He didn’t know yet, but if he spun you around his signature would be on the back. Then he saw the necklace hung delicately around your neck, the silver chain elongating your neck as it shone beautifully from the base of your neck. And one day he hoped that it could be his lips there instead, if you’d let him. It took him a few more seconds to realise that it was his initial that was hanging around your neck. The more he took you in the more he noticed the little details. The orange bracelet around your wrist, his initials. The earrings in your slightly red ears, the ones he had brought you. The rings that he had helped your parents choose for your 21st adorned your hands that he’d always loved were smaller than his. He took all of you in, finally seeing you. Finally realising that you were his girl. Looking into your eyes, he saw how red they were, and he wondered how many times you had cried because of his fans. “I'm so sorry” he whispered, raising his hands to place them between your neck and your jaw.  “If I had known that my fans would make you feel like this I would never have ever started racing” He spoke quietly to her, his thumb rubbing back and forth gently on her cheek. “I love you so much” he told her. Never meaning anything more. 

y/n pov —------------------------

The two of you had told each other multiple times that you loved each other. Your heart broke a little bit when your mind told you that he would only ever meant that as a sibling, or a friend at most. Your heart raced as you felt him rest his forehead against yours, his thumb still rubbing soothing swipes against your tear soaked cheeks. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you sat in the bathroom. “Can i tell you something?” Lando whispered, pulling back from you slightly, almost regretting it when he saw the worry return to your eyes. “Do you remember when we were 14?” he asked. The memories came flooding back, making a smile appear on your face. “I remember when you came running past the security, even past my parents and straight at me just as I’d gotten out of the kart. It was that moment, with your arms wrapped around my neck and my arms wrapped around you that I realised I was head over heels in love with you. I’ve been trying to keep it to myself for the last 10 years, but I can’t do it anymore. I need the world to know you’re my girl. I love you, more than racing, more than life, more than stroopwafel’s” he said, the smile getting bigger at the end of the sentence. “I remember nearing pushing you over with how hard i was hugging you and nearly being told off by your coach because we nearly fell onto the kart. I’d never seen you smile so big. But” you paused looking up at him, seeing the worry flash across his eyes at your statement “i fell inlove with you when you tried horse riding for the first time, and you fell off. You looked straight at me and you had the worst hair cut but you put your thumbs up at me and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live in this world if you werent in it. I tried dating other people, thinking I would finally be able to get over you, but i’ve never been able to get over you. My exs all said that they could see how in love with you I was and they couldn’t compete against it. You’d always have my heart. And they’re right, Lando. I love you more than anything in this world. I’ve only ever been able to call you my man in my dreams” you spoke, blushing towards the end of your sentence. 

“In your dreams, huh?” Lando teased, smirking. “Shut up” you mumbled, suddenly feeling very self conscious again. You felt Lando’s fingers under your chin, pulling it so that you would look up at him.  “Lets not waste anymore time. Be mine?” he asks you, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. “Lemme think about it” you teased. “I suppose I can spare some time for you, but it’s on one condition” you continued. “Which is?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “Kiss me”. And that he did. You have never had such a passionate kiss in your life. It felt like every missed moment, every almost moment was being poured into the kiss. And if the kisses were like this, you never wanted to stop kissing him. But unfortunately, Lando’s phone began ringing. He groaned into your lips, not wanting this moment to end. Ultimately, it was you that pulled away. “You should answer that, boyfriend” you said. The word making him smile as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. “It’s Zak, but he wants to video call” he said nervously trying to regulate his emotions enough to speak to his boss. 

“Lando? Where are you? Are you still at the hotel? You’re lucky the hotel is literally across the street. Media starts in 10 minutes. Be here, or we will be having a talk.” the older man spoke, barely letting the younger man have a chance to get a word in. 

“Yes, Zak” he said, still barely containing his smile. The men nodded at each other before hanging up the phone. Lando placed his phone back onto the floor before pulling you back into a kiss. 

Begrudgingly, Lando pulled away, pushing himself to stand up. Then, he held his hands out to you. He managed to pull you up gracefully enough, and pulled you into him, pulling you in for another kiss, which made you begin to giggle. Your giggles set off lando’s giggles, and then you and Lando were holding onto each other, laughing. Lando moved his hands to hold your face again. 

“I need to go, but I’ll get Oscar, Max and the Guys to send their girlfriends in. I know you’re anxious, but I promise you’ll love them, and they’ll love you. And,” he said pulling you into a quick kiss, again, “I’ll see you soon, Girlfriend”. The words made your heart flutter. Lando stepped away, one of his hands still holding onto yours. He turned, about to finally make his way out of the bathroom when he came turning back to you. He pulled you into another passionate kiss. And as he pulled away he whispered into your ear “You look absolutely stunning, baby”. The pet name made you blush, which in turn made Lando smirk. He kissed your forehead, squeezed your hand and made his way out of the room. Away from his girl. 

Lando to his boys:

wags group chat:

y/n posted to Instagram

ynusername: today I became part of something I never thought I would. I made friends younger I could only dream about making. Younger me, if you could see me now, we made it. In more ways than one. Thank you @/landonorris for sending this angels my way and also for making me your girl.

landonorris: my girl

------ user 1: WHAT?!

------ user 2: we've been seeing this coming for years! FINALLY!

carmenmmundt: our girl

-------- landonorris: my girl

------- lilyzneimer: our girl x 2

------- flavy.barla: our girl x 3

------- francisca.gomes: our girl x 4

------- heidiberger_: our girl x 5

------- alexandrassaintmleux: our girl x 6

-------lilymhe: our girl x 7

------- iamrebeccad: our girl x 8

------- tiffanycromwell: our girl x 9

------- logjorup: our girl x 10

------ kellypiquet: our girl x 11

------ carolamtz1: our girl x 12

------ landonorris: MY GIRL

The corset in question (I've cropped my own face out, please no hate)

Let me know if you guys want a part two! And if you want to be tagged in part two!

[judethejudas]

Asking them on a date— Ghost and König Imagines

How would the boys react to you asking them on a date? How do they behave on the date? It’s quite fluffy.

König:

- He’s shocked. Shocked and embarrassed, only because he’s never been asked out before.

- He’s immediately ridden with anxiety and deathly afraid he’ll disappoint you.

- But he agrees, a very quiet ‘yes’ is what he gives you.

- It’s dinner at his place. You know how he gets so shy in public that you’ll give him a home field advantage.

- He’s beyond relieved you suggested his place, but still nervous that he has to vigorously clean his apartment to make it spotless for you.

- He’s an incredible cook and he knows it, but he’s cooking for you so it HAS to be perfect. No room for flaws.

- He dresses nicely but he’s not overdressed. He wears his good dress shirt and slacks— which he still frets about because what if he looks ridiculous?

- When you see him, you tell him he looks very handsome and all his worries about himself are gone. You look incredible yourself and he definitely lets you know— very quietly and shyly though.

- König is a perfect gentleman. He takes your coat and pulls your chair out, offers you any beverages aside from the wine at the table.

- Of course he’s still quiet and sometimes stumbles on his words when he speaks but you don’t poke fun at him. And he greatly appreciates it.

- You gush about dinner and how delicious it is, König has to hide his little smile at that.

- The more wine he has, the more talkative he is. He’s less shy and expresses his interest in you, showing attentiveness when you speak, and talks about himself too if you ask him a question. Hardly a stutter.

- Soon you’re both wasted on wine and decide to sit on the couch. It’s only when you’re a bit more touchy with him that his blush returns.

“Are you alright, König?” You ask him, leaning in so closely to inspect the red tint on his cheeks. You’re painfully unaware of how close you are to him and it’s driving König insane.

“I-I’m alright, I swear..”

“Hm..” You squint your pretty eyes at him and see that the tips of his ears are pink too. “I don’t know, I feel like you have a fever coming on.”

You lean closer to his ear and he feels your wine ridden breath touch him. He has to suppress his shiver and turns his head away.

“I’m not sick.. I’m just..”

“Just what, König?”

He feels your fingers holding his chin and turning his face to you, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“I…” He starts, but can’t find the words to describe how he’s feeling. He’s so lost in your eyes and the blush only intensifies. The wine is messing with him. One side fights to show you a confident man, the other wants to remain timid.

One of them wins this round.

Without thinking, the confident man in him kisses you.

You’re the one who’s surprised now and you gasp into the kiss.

He mistakes it for displeasure and immediately pulls away, going back to his shy personality.

“I’m so sorry, I should have asked for permission first-“

You quickly cut him off by kissing him and he falls back from the force, now laying on the couch with you on top of him. His eyes are wide in shock but he’s happy, so happy you like him too.

The two of you continue to kiss, with your hands gently stroking his chest and shoulders while his own nervously hold your hips.

But he’s not overthinking for once. There are so many things he could be worrying about but he refuses to ruin this moment.

Then you pull away and stare into his eyes, both of you panting quietly.

“Do you really feel the same way..?” He breathes out.

And you kiss him again.

Of course you feel the same.

__________

Ghost:

- He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him on a date. How could he say no to that?

- He plays it cool, giving you a ‘sure, sounds like fun’ and you nearly die on the spot.

- In reality? He’s not used to dating. He prefers his own company and because of his past, he doesn’t want to burden anybody. So he never gets into anything serious. He’s more confident in the field with his teammates, but alone? With somebody? He’s a tad bit afraid.

- His social skills aren’t up to par, but he fakes it until he makes it. He’s confident but doubting himself on the inside.

- He’s going in casual attire, nothing fancy or else he feels as if he’s performing himself.

- You invited him to your place for dinner and he can tell you put a lot of effort into it. He thinks it’s so cute.

- Dinner is amazing and he tells you that, he hasn’t had a home cooked meal in so long so it’s much more special to him.

- You both chat and eat, mostly about how difficult it is to maintain and separate your civilian lives and the military. He’s happy he’s not alone in that. You both feel comfortable just being at the base and being with the team. It’s hard to connect to anyone outside of work.

- Ghost is a hard man to read and he knows you’re nervous the whole time. He hardly makes facial expressions and his voice is one toned. He worries inwardly about that but doesn’t show it. All he could do was hope you think he’s being genuine in his compliments and what he says to you. He just doesn’t know how to change.

- After dinner, you’re both on the couch with glasses of wine— continuing to chat with each other. He’s hoping the alcohol will make it easier for him to express himself. It does not.

- The wine doesn’t relax you either, if anything, you’re even more shy now. It was only when you didn’t want to look at him that he decided that this had gone far enough.

“You know I like you, right?”

You’re shocked at his words and nearly choke on your wine.

You quickly look at him after he says that, seeing his flat expression and hearing that monotone voice.

No way. He can’t possibly feel the same as you do.

“Are you sure?” You blurt out. And mentally slap yourself for asking such a dumb question. All you could do was berate yourself in your mind and tell yourself he doesn’t like you. His expression says it all and so does his voice. You have to look away again and lose yourself in lack of confidence.

You don’t even notice him moving closer.

“(Y/n).” He says, in a strangely softer voice than usual. It startled you and you silently gasp, seeing how close he is to you now.

You feel his hand taking the glass from your hand and putting it on the coffee table.

That’s when you’re looking into his eyes and he’s staring right back at yours. You see the emotion there, the softness he held for you. It wasn’t about the facial expressions or how he sounds. You were focusing on the wrong things.

He does like you.

His calloused hand comes up to hold your cheek and neither of you speak a word. You let yours and his actions do the talking now.

You both connect your lips together.

He’s gentle with you at first, showing that he doesn’t want to intimidate you or ever mean to. After a while, he shows more passion and interest by deepening the kiss and you have to lay back— with him crawling on top of you.

You feel him smiling in the kiss but you don’t dare open your eyes, you only let him show his emotions the way he’s comfortable doing it.

The tears dampen your lashes as you’re overwhelmed with joy.

You know he’s feeling the same.

_________

Hope you guys enjoyed— by the way I do take requests. I’m just a slow writer so you have to be patient-

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni!

❀ putative self-defense.

when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived. 

wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ summary.

after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.

❀ Tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.

thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺

Your morning was a clusterfuck.

Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.

Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.

It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.

You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.

"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."

"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."

Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.

"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.

She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."

"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"

Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.

You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.

"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.

You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.

And you were, actually.

"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.

"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."

"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."

She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."

"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?

"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"

"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."

"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.

After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed. 

"Nobara, where is the coffee?"

"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.

You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.

"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"

"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"

"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"

You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"

"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.

***

I can't fucking believe this.

You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.

This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.

While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.

He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?

Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.

This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.

You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.

Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.

Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.

And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.

Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.

After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening. 

Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.

It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.

At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.

Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.

As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.

Instant karma. Seems fair.

Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.

"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.

As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man. 

The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright. 

And that beautiful hooked nose.

He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.

The front certainly matches the back.

Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.

"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something. 

You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.

"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.

So, why clusterfuck?

When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.

That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.

Shit.

The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.

You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.

However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb. 

This couldn't get any worse, could it?

You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.

"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.

Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.

It wasn't.

"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.

"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"

Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper. 

Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.

Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.

The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.

"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."

You were at a complete loss for words.

"I… I… Fairness…"

Then silence.

You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.

You really should have slept better.

He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.

"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."

Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.

Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it. 

"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."

Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.

Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.

What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?

Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.

And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.

Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.

He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.

You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.

"Stay there for a second."

"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.

A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.

"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.

"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.

Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.

 The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.

"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.

"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.

"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."

His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.

It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.

Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.

This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place. 

For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.

He was the real deal.

"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place." 

Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.

"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"

He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence. 

You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.

***

“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.

“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.

Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.

“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”

Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”

Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.

It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.

Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.

Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.

“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.” 

“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”

“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”

Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.

“You’re too overly dramatic.”

At that, Higuruma scoffed.

“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”

“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted. 

Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.

They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.

Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.

“I mean it. I’m fine.”

Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.

“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice. 

“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”

“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”

“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”

“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”

“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.

***

This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.

He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.

After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.

He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.

Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.

You have to be kidding me.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!”

He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.

Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.

Then, she… chuckled? 

Hm… What?

She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back. 

However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.

He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.

There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.

Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.

The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time. 

"Fuck," first class and already running late. 

The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.

The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner. 

He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.

The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky. 

He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.

Now, what will I teach these people today?

Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.

The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?

With adrenaline, of course.

***

The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.

However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor. 

You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.

"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."

Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.

"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."

Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone. 

You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.

As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"Yes?"

Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.

Oh, shit. He's handsome.

Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.

"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.

Brilliant. Off to a great start.

Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.

"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.

You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?

"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.

“5000 yen.”

“... What?”

“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”

You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.

“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”

Is this guy for real?

You cleared your throat before continuing.

“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”

After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.

He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.

“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.

You were very surprised.

“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”

“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”

Uh?

“Also a joke.”

“You’re not very good with those.”

Did I say that out loud? 

He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.

I did say it out loud.

"Fuck."

And that too. 

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.

“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.

Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.

He then proceeded.

"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.” 

His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.

You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.

He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.

"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.

He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"

"The mock expulsion?"

"Heavens, no."

"Then, why?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face with his hands.

"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.

"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"

"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."

You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.

"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."

He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.

No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.

It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.

"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."

He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.

"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."

"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"

He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay."

"But still…"

He sighed.

"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."

You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.

"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."

The professor shook his head.

"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."

Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.

"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."

You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.

"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."

You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.

"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."

He bowed his head slightly.

"Same to you."

However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.

"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.

"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."

"Hm… what is it?"

He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.

"Are those pajamas?"

You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.

"Of course… not?"

Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.

"Do you intend to be an attorney?"

"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.

He huffed.

"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"

Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.

Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.

"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.

"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.

You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.

"Of course not."

"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.

The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.

Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.

Tag list:

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @markleeisdabestdrug @redlikerozez @delirious-donna

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @senseifupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 

@ohhheymessa @actuallysaiyan @bigbaddulce

[plutoccult]

BRINGING THEM TO THANKSGIVING (PART TWO)

characters: reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, levi ackerman, erwin smith, and hange zoe (gender neutral pronouns for hange!)

description: headcanons on taking your favorite aot characters home to your family for thanksgiving.

read part one here

author’s note: hello! thank you for all the love on the first part of these headcanons. from my love all mine blowing up to also part one of the thanksgiving headcanons, i’m over the moon. i hope these headcanons are just as good, and happy (early) thanksgiving to those who celebrate! maybe i’ll do something christmas related in the future? in the meantime, i’m working on the next part of my haikyuu x the office au, and i hope more people will check it out! <3

REINER BRAUN:

— listen, i love this man, but he’s a mess. he wants to impress your family so bad! it’s so bad that he’s so in his head that he can’t even focus on having a good time. it’s not until you have a little talk with him in private and insist he let loose and try to have fun that he evades his overthinking head.

— despite his mess of a brain, he’s a total catch in the eyes of your grandmother and aunties. they think he’s a total HOTTIE! they can’t believe you bagged him, but at the same time are so impressed. you can’t help but roll your eyes at such comments while reiner has a hard time believing he’s that attractive.

— even if he’s not as tall as bertholdt, he’s still so tall, but has a better time navigating his stature as compared to his much taller best friend. your little cousins are quite amazed by his build, and he basically puts all the men in your family to shame in terms of muscle. good for you, honestly.

— at dinnertime, he feels more at ease and not as nervous when it came to making a good impression. he already left a positive mark on thanksgiving, and that mark continued throughout the rest of the night. everyone sure had no problem making sure that big boy was fed and was thrilled how much he loved everything. all in all, a success.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER:

— bertholdt is such a shy man!! my god!! he’s worse than reiner in terms of nervousness! no wonder they make such a great pair, they’re both wrecks. but bertholdt is sweaty, beet red mess when he walks through the door, and he can only pray no one notices and you don’t scold him for it (which you never would, but he can’t help but think you’ll do it anyway).

— he’s immediately overwhelmed by everyone greeting him all at once, a million words overlapping on another, and you have to tell everybody to call down and not scare him off right off the bat. bertholdt wouldn’t know what he’d do without you, really.

— honestly, take a shot every time someone mentions how tall bertholdt is. you’d be dead from alcohol poisoning before dinnertime, so don’t even try it. but seriously, everyone is so in awe of his height, it’s insane. you’re sometimes tempted to joke he’s not done yet growing just to make everyone sweat a little, but you don’t want to make your man even more flustered than he already is.

— unfortunately, bertholdt is too ridden with anxiety to properly eat his dinner, even if the small bites he ate were absolutely delicious. luckily for both of you, you get to take leftover plates home! the next day, he devoured his leftovers and ended up eating your plate too, but you weren’t mad. at least he enjoyed your family’s cooking in a place where he felt comfortable; at home with you.

LEVI ACKERMAN:

— you almost didn’t want to bring levi to thanksgiving. not because you didn’t want him to meet your family, but because he seemed so iffy on the subject of thanksgiving in the past. but, when you decided to take a chance and ask him about it, he was—much to your surprise—far more than willing to come along with you and even suggested the two of you bring a dish for the occasion (secretly because it was the one thing he could trust to eat).

— the two of you arrive, and you swore levi’s resting serial killer face would be the ultimate death of the holiday. your mother almost jumped when she opened the door and met levi’s piercing gaze, but was thankfully put at ease when he politely handed her the casserole he made with a soft smile. he was even nice enough to give her reheating instructions too. what a king.

— levi shockingly has a soft spot for children. you didn’t know that about him until now when you saw him cradling your baby niece in his arms with ease while she napped peacefully. the sight almost brought you to tears, seriously.

— even if levi didn’t have much of a family growing up, he could find solace in yours, secretly in his mind hoping he could always have things be this way. you were happy to see him happy, even if he had his own quirky ways of showing it, and you were so glad to have taken the leap to invite him to thanksgiving this year.

ERWIN SMITH:

— YOUR HONOR. i’m about to get oddly passionate about this for some reason, but hear me OUT. erwin is literally THEE man you want to bring home to meet your family. so serious. he’s every parent’s dream son-in-law. a father can only hope their child brings home someone like him, and luckily, you did!

— he’s such a charmer, oh my god. he just exudes bde, i’m not sorry (this is crazy coming from me, who was never a huge fan of erwin). he instantly wins over your family. you can’t even be shocked because he does this with every single person he meets, even you, who was swooned upon first meeting.

— he’s good with all the kids, just showing how more perfect he truly is, if that’s even humanly possible. everyone can’t stop talking about how awesome your man is, and you actually are proud of yourself for that. it’s about time you bagged an absolute 10 out of 10.

— when all is said and done, nobody wants him to go, they want him to stay forever! but don’t worry, he’ll come around for christmas, new year’s, and every other holiday after that.

HANGE ZOE:

— ah, my precious hange. they have their quirks, but that’s what makes them so wonderful, and that’s also why you fell for them in the first place. you can only hope your family falls for hange just like you did.

— honestly, hange just lights up the room. their presence has an instant effect on everyone, and some would argue the holiday for better once you two walked in together.

— i imagine hange talks about their inventions to your parents, showing examples of their previous work. it’s all impressive, really. you’ve got a real smarty pants on your hands, and your parents sure are happy about it! they’re just glad you’re not with someone who’s boring.

— they’re a total child at heart, not in a bad way. hange will play with the little ones as if they’re a kid themselves. they’ll even give out piggyback rides but with a little twist. the twist? bouncing around whilst a child is on their shoulders. thankfully, no one throws up.

— during dinner, hange probably thinks of good thanksgiving themed inventions and politely asks to write their ideas down on their phone since there’s a strict no phone rule at the dinner table. thankfully, your family can make an exception… as long as they’re mentioned in hange’s success story.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[starlightsuffered]

Separation Anxiety

Info - anxiety ridden fem, married couple, worried about death, pregnant reader, oral fixation, mentions of cocks/orgasms, sucking a man’s nipples, ass patting for comfort, fingering, possessiveness, separation anxiety

“Paullll,” I gasped. I was so happy he’d come back after his latest mission. I fell to my knees in relief.

I had always been a worrier, being pregnant had only increased this fear. Every time Paul left me I was a complete mess the week before. I needed him constantly with me. I hung off his arm, I pulled him into corners to kiss him tearfully. I always had to be on his dick. I wanted to cock warm him all the time.

I was so happy that he didn’t mind. He dealt well with my incessant coddling and obsession. I was utterly smitten with him. I was so glad our marriage had been arranged. We had a connection at first meeting.

“My love,” he swooned and gathered me into his arms. I finally could breathe comfortably because he was back and safe.

“Oh dear, surely you weren’t that worried,” he chuckled gently, holding my face and brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. Tears streamed down my face.

“Of course I was, Paul Atreides,” I said almost harshly. I felt hurt he could even assume I wasn’t.

“Baby doll, don’t I always come back safe?” He asked.

“That doesn’t mean something couldn’t go terrible wrong,” I sobbed. I pressed my forehead to his chest and I fisted his shirt and let my emotion out.

“I think about you constantly. I worry my child will grow up without a father. I worry I will lose the most precious thing in my life. I just, I just-“

“Come on baby, you need your special thing,” he soothed.

“I do,” I agreed. I fretted with my fingers, leftover anxiety making me tremble. He led me into our sleeping quarters. He shed his still suit.

He went and cleaned himself in the showers while I undressed myself. I rubbed my swollen belly. I was so happy I was the one to bear the Atreides heir. I would be invaluable to Paul. He often reassured me he would never ever leave, but now it would be even harder.

Paul came out clean and sparkling. My husband’s cock was already hard. I was happy for that. He sat on the bed. He beckoned to me. I snuggled up in his arms.

He propped me up on some pillows. He showed me his pink nipple. I placed my hand on his chest, fingers splayed. I began to suckle on his nipple. His pec flexed as I lapped and moaned. I loved being close to him like this.

He comforted me by patting my ass. He sang a Fremen song in a low voice. Then he played with my hair. I closed my eyes and just drank in the atmosphere.

I focused on his smell, his feel, his taste, and his low voice that calmed all my fears. I thumbed his other nipple, so euphoric to be in his arms again.

“You’re my girl, and I’m safe,” he promised me.

Finally, after the ass patting and playing with my hair, he sunk his fingers into my pussy. He curled and pumped slowly as I sucked on his chest. He’d be a mosaic of hickeys after this, and I would take much pride in the marks. He was mine, and I loved it that way.

“So nice and tight, so wet, getting ready for my return,” he crooned.

“Yes Paul,” I shuddered.

“It’s okay my beloved, I’ll get you there. You just relax and know I’m here,” he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “It’s all okay.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator r @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 10 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Life felt completely up in the air. It was as exciting as it was anxiety-ridden. The BMW remained at Joel’s house overnight, and even long after you’d gotten home after your romantic romp in the lake, jealousy and insecurity ate away at your core - not to mention every other heightened emotion you could think that you had no idea what to do with.

He said he wanted this, you reminded yourself. Still, there was a looming dark cloud over your inner paradise in the form of the legal situation between Joel and Cecille. Should she try to convince him to take her back, maybe she would be enticing enough for him to agree to it. After all, this wasn’t some high school couple that was simply calling it quits. This was a marriage.

Your racing thoughts disallowed you to have a solid night’s sleep. Each time you awoke you took a glance out the window to see the car beside Joel’s truck. It was torture. When the morning finally did come, you were pleased to see Cicille enter her vehicle ahead of Joel. The question was, was she going to work, or was she leaving for good?

Your phone went off soon after, and you barricaded yourself in your room to take Joel’s call.

“Hey.” The one word practically came out as a sigh of relief.

“Hey.” Joel cleared his throat, “Look, I’m uh, I’m going golfing with your father after work.”

“Oh, yeah,” you remembered, “That was today huh?”

“Yeah.” He paused, “And then I’m going to get a room somewhere for the night.”

“Like a hotel?”

“Yeah.”

“So, is um… is Cecille staying there permanently then?”

“Honestly, things are a bit of a mess, and there’s nothing legally keeping her from being there. She loves to make my life a hell of a lot more difficult when it’s convenient for her, hence why this thing is ending the way it is.”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“I shouldn’t even be venting all that out to you,” Joel went on. “But, I just wanted to let you know that I wasn’t going to be at the house tonight.”

It felt like a crushing blow that you were potentially losing Joel as a neighbor. Having him right next door was exciting and fun. Sneaking back and forth had been an addicting addition to the relationship. To have his ex-wife appearing out of the blue to take the house back over felt unfair, if their verbal agreement had stated otherwise.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“I have to make some calls on my lunch break,” he explained. “And, uh… if you’re around I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’m around,” you explained with a nod, though you knew he couldn’t see the gesture.

Joel hesitated before speaking again. “Thanks for… understanding. I’m sorry for how this all must seem from your point of view.”

“I trust you,” you said to him. “Divorces happen and from what I’ve heard through the grapevine they’re rarely easy.” You paused a second before adding, “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.” Joel sighed heavily on the other end of the line, “I, uh… I’m really lucky to have you, honey.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Despite all the heavy feelings, a smile still formed on your face.

“I’ll text ya the name of the hotel this afternoon.”

“Okay.”

“I, uh, I can’t wait to see ya. I know it’s only been since last night but I got used to you sleeping next to me.”

Your heart went from a steady beat to outright pounding in your chest. “I loved waking up next to you.” And I fucking love you!  You wanted to shout it. You wanted to cry as you told him. The thought of it alone made you want to burst into tears but you didn’t know why. The feelings were so intense and the circumstances were so up in the air that it left you feeling a bit tossed in all directions. It was overwhelming.

“Well, if you’ll have me, tomorrow morning you will.” Pep returned to his voice as he spoke those words.

“You know by now that I’ll gladly have you.”

“Okay, then,” Joel said, “It’s a date.”

That was enough to hold you over. While the long term held some serious questions, the short term had you back to walking on air. Spending the night at a hotel with Joel already felt like a little slice of heaven. No one would know where you were. No one would be there to potentially interrupt or catch you. In your mind, you could play house again and act in your fantasy world like you were husband and wife.

When you made your way back downstairs to see your mother filling her travel coffee mug, you smiled. “I can make the pasta salad for the picnic tomorrow,” you offered, “And whatever other appetizers will hold overnight. Oh, and I’ll set up the volleyball net this afternoon. Dad’s going golfing, I think.”

“Thank you,” you mother said with a smile. “That would be great.”

“Hey, I’m not going to be home tonight, but I promise I’ll be back for the picnic.”

“You’re staying out?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Holly’s?”

“Mm-hmm.”

You mother squinted her eyes. “Is there… something you’re not telling me?” She asked with playful accusation.

“Like what?”

“Well… you barely stay at this house anymore,” she began, putting a hand up before you could protest,” And it’s fine, you’re a young woman, you can do as you please. But, as your mom, of course I’m a little curious.”

Crap. Where was she going with this?

“Are you in some kind of secret relationship?”

“Mom…” You shook your head.

“With some guy… or even with Holly?”

Your eyes bugged out of your head and you began to laugh. “What? Holly’s been my best friend since middle school.”

“It happens.” She shrugged, making you laugh further. It was a relief that she thought of Holly before Joel, though you knew sooner or later you would have to tell her the truth.

“No,” you giggled now, “I can’t wait to tell her you said that.”

“Oh, don’t make fun of me,” she said, shaking her head, “You girls always teamed up on us moms growing up.”

“Some things never change,” you teased, laughing out loud. In the lighthearted nature of your talk, you almost wanted to blurt out the truth and tell her you were in love with Joel. In your heart, you knew a part of her wouldn’t judge, but the other rational part of her would break down every reason why getting involved with him was a terrible idea - and you didn’t need that right then. Still, you decided to be half honest with your mother. “I am seeing someone,” you admitted.

“I knew it.”

You chuckled, “But, I didn’t want to put anyone in an awkward position so I kept pretending I was staying over at Holly’s”

“Who is he? Did you meet him at school? What was his major?”

“It’s still a bit new,” you explained, “But I really… really like him. A lot.”

Your mom’s face seemed to glow. “You’ve never said that about anyone… maybe your high school boyfriend, but…” She shook her head, “Oh, I can’t wait to meet him!”

You already have. A smile lingered on your face but you could feel how forced it was from the tense feeling in your cheeks.

“You will,” you explained, “I promise. In time. I just… maybe don’t tell Dad. It’s a weird, in-between time I’m in. I feel like an adult and a kid at the same time and I’m living with you guys and-”

“I get it,” your mother cut you off, “I’ll keep it between us. I’m glad you’ve met someone that makes you… glow.” She grinned, “I knew it. I knew something was different. He treats you nice?”

“Yes,” you said right away, “Very nice. He’s a gentleman. I think you and Dad have set a good example of what to look for in a relationship.” You winked and decided to butter her up a bit - not that it wasn’t true; but sucking up a little wouldn’t hurt once she found out that Joel Miller was your secret lover.

“Your father and I love each other very much,” she concluded, capping her coffee. Your mother smiled and pointed at you, “He’s a good man.”

“And a great Dad.” You exchanged a kiss on the cheek, “And of course you’re a great mom.”

“Stop trying to make me cry before work.” She cupped your face, “My baby is growing up. And it’s hurting me and making me smile all at once.”

You smiled back at her, exchanged another hug and then parted ways for the day. You spent your day cooking and did a little baking before whipping out all of the yard games for the following afternoon. The volleyball net was a little frustrating to set up alone, but you figured it out. And then you followed with setting up cornhole, staking in a set up for horseshoes and even dragging out a set of folding tables so everything was more or less ready for Saturday.

“Hey!” Joel’s voice caught your attention unexpectedly from next door later in the day.

You whipped around with a smile and had the urge to run across the yard to greet him. You played it cool, of course and smiled, staring at him with your hands on your hips.

“Hey!” You shouted back.

“Straighten out those horseshoe pits! They’re cooked!” Joel smiled wide and winked.

You laughed and bit your bottom lip. “Maybe you should come over and straighten them out.”

“I can’t,” he motioned like he was hitting a golf ball, “I’m play golf with my girlfriend’s father.”

He said that loud enough for anyone to hear, but you realized that no one was home to even question it. It made you laugh out loud.

“Keep you ball out of the rough,” you shouted through cupped hands.

Joel began to laugh out loud. He smirked and put his hands out the sides. “No promises.”

Fuck. You wanted to kiss him. No, you wanted to pounce on him.

“Check your phone in about thirty seconds.”

“Okay.”

“Your dad comped me a room on the golf course,” he went on with a shrug, “Felt bad about what’s been going on.”

“He what?”

“I hope that’s okay,” Joel added.

“Oh, yeah…” You hadn’t realized your shock had translated into some form of disapproval, “Of course that’s fine. That’s a really nice hotel.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, “Check in is any time after four. I’ll still be playing then, but you can go whenever you’d like.”

“Do I just use your name?”

“I know it’s probably risky but I gave both of ours.”

You smiled. “Well, I better go inside and freshen up then. I’ve been sweating out here the last hour.”

Joel looked around in all directions before making the trek over to your yard. Your heart rate began to pick up again and you took just a few, nearly-frozen steps toward him. When he reached where you stood he asked, “When do they get home?”

“I, um.. well-”

“Do you have any butter I can borrow?” Joel smiled playfully, reminiscent of the first conversation you’d had together on the back step.

You smiled back and swallowed hard. “I have whatever you need.”

“Is there time?” he asked more directly, looking you in the eye.

“There’s time,” you whispered back, as if someone might hear you.

Joel looked like he wanted to pull you against him and kiss you; but he didn’t. He let out a deep breath, holding your eye contact until you led him inside the back door a step behind you. When you got inside it was as if he had been overseas at war. You didn’t know if you pulled him to you, or he pulled you to him, but your lips crashed against one another’s.

Wondering if you could get caught was the farthest thing from your mind when your hand was tangled in Joel’s wavy hair. He held you with such force and kissed you with such ferocity that you couldn’t hold back what you were feeling.

“I love you,” you gasped in between kisses, “Fuck, I love you, Joel.”

Joel’s tongue dominated yours harder and you only separated from him because you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He let out a gasping breath of his own and let out several deep breaths into your open mouth.

“I love you, too, honey.” He swallowed hard, pecked your lips and you kissed on another more firmly. Joel’s hand lingered on the side of your face. “I fucking love you.”

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @writlingerz @vickie5446 @drewharrisonwriter @churchofjoemiller

[usedtobecooler]

Oh my fuck if you used your writerly powers for Billy Knight *chews on pillow*

How about making Billy come twice, he'd be so desperate to be good for you but overstimulated and a mess. Can be from riding him until he's hard again, sucking him off, idk my eyeballs are gonna explode if I think about it too much 😱

Pairing | Billy Knight x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs (not really, it's over his pants lol), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), dubious content (possibly? it's very much wanted but billy doesn't voice his consent), premature ejaculation, overstimulation, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of medication, mention of physical ticks, health facility setting, fluff, angst, billy is incredibly touch starved.

Word Count | 3k

A/N | this was purely self-indulgent because i love billy so much, i've not proofread it so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

"Bill, how longs it been since a girl touched you?" You ask quietly, leaning out to rest your hand on his knee. You don't miss the way his leg jerks a little under the touch, like you'd burned him with a match.

"I don't - I don't know. Not since I was in school, a while ago." Billy's voice is thick, wet, accent shining through with every word he speaks. You can tell he's mortified by your question, the way his tick kicks up a little after being stagnant the whole of your visit so far, the constant swiping of his nose turning it red raw.

You wince a little at his confession, can't help but screw your face up - it's obvious that you look sad for him. He hadn't had it easy his whole adulthood, really, being constantly in and out of hospital for various mental health disorders meant that he was starved in the affection department, too busy trying to get better before he could focus on a girl.

He looks like he's getting better, that you can tell. He was finally allowed visitors in his room, not in the mess hall, which meant he was being trusted alone without constant supervision. He also just looked cleaner cut; the black Henley adorning his toned torso suited him so much better than the baggy grey hoodie he always wore. His hair was neat, combed back, though his stubbly beard still remained.

He looked nicer with it, you thought. Not so much like a scared schoolboy, it made him look older in a more masculine way. He'd told you the medication was helping, too, that he was sleep schedule was improving and he wasn't so anxiety ridden all the time, scared that somebody was coming to get him.

This private place had been better than anywhere the NHS had sent him, clearly having money was the big factor in whether mental health sufferers really ever got the help they needed. You didn't pry him on where the money came from to pay for the treatment, sometimes it was better to stay out of the Knights' business.

"Where were you, uh, going with this?" Billy's shaky voice snaps you out of your trance, and you realise you'd been staring back and forth between his face, chest and crotch unabashedly this entire time. Your cheeks heat up, and you glance away to look at the clock ticking behind his head, suddenly becoming so interesting.

"You'll think I'm being so silly," You sputter, subtly fanning your face with your hand that wasn't still slapped on Billy's knee, in a bid to cool down a little, embarrassment taking over your whole body, "I just thought that, maybe, it'd help you relax a little if you, or if I helped you... take the edge off."

Billy cocks his head to the side, confusion etching onto his features before it dawns on him exactly what you meant. He flushes a deep red, "Oh, um. The prescription pills they have me on s-sort of... stop me from being able to f-finish, uh, lot of the time."

You're the reason he's stuttering, you know that and it's making you want to lunge at him and wrap him up in a big hug to calm him down. You've clearly mortified him with your question, too forward and full on for somebody who may as well still have been a virgin with the amount of time that'd gone by since he'd last been in any sexual encounter that wasn't with his own right hand.

"I can... well I can try?" You say it like it's a question, eyes flitting back to look at him once more, the heat on his face making him look even more endearing, his long dark lashes fanning across the tips of his cheeks as he closes his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath.

Your hand had inched further up his thigh without you even realizing, and you gasp when the back of your hand brushes against his obvious erection through his dark jogging bottoms. You question now if it's not actually embarrassment that's making him flush so dark - but arousal instead.

"You'll tell me if I'm reading this wrong, yeah?" You ask him gently, voice barely above a whisper as you slide your palm over his cock through the thick material of his pants, clear outline making it obvious he had no underwear on underneath. Your breath hitches as you go to curl your hand around his length, so thick that your fingers can't wrap around it fully.

You're watching in awe as a wet patch starts to form on the soft cotton, dampening it until it's stained darker, whilst you go between ghosting your hand up and down gently and squeezing softly. Billy can't rip his eyes away from you, drifting back and forth between your shocked face and your hand grasping at him.

"I'm gonna cum, darlin'. Sorry, shit," Billy's hand claws onto the leather arm of his chair and he's hunching in on himself, coming with a low, gruff moan, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his release.

Your eyes widen in shock, a gasp escaping your lips as you sit back and take in what just happened. Your thighs clench, a wave of heat overcoming your body at the thought of him coming undone so easily under your touch.

"M'sorry, this is so embarrassing." Billy's whiny little voice breaks the silence, he throws his head back and rubs at his face with his hands. They're big enough that they completely engulf his features, making his head seem small in comparison. In that split second, you decide you want - no, need to have his hands all over you. You needed to show him what it was like to touch a girl, feel her go pliant under his touch.

"It's not." You say it all too quick, hand tearing away from his crotch to grab at his arm and pull his hands away from his face so he could look at you properly. His eyes are watering, big brown orbs clearly showing his distress and it makes your heart ache, "It's not embarrassing, Bill. It's normal, you've not been touched by another person in, what, seven years? Maybe longer? Don't feel like you should be better at this."

You slip out of your own chair across from Billy, sliding onto your knees in front of him with a dull thud, shuffling between his spread legs, "Can I touch you again? Proper this time?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, batting your lashes at him prettily, "I promise I'll make it good for you."

Billy shakes out a stuttered sigh, cock already kicking up again in interest at the thought of your bare flesh connecting with his own. You're so gorgeous, he's thought about you in this way for so long, but he always thought you'd do better than him. That you could do better than him.

He thought you were only still friendly with him out of pity, at the end of the day you had been Jimmy's friend first. You hadn't had any dealings with Jimmy in years, yet you always still checked in with Billy, visited often. Maybe it was because you knew he didn't really have any other friends, nobody to look out for him but you.

Billy hazards a glance down at you when he feels your fingers brush over the waistband of his soiled sweats, helps you by lifting his hips up when you tug at them to pull them down. You leave them to pool at his ankles, no patience to take them off completely.

He's fully hard again just at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, leaky tip slapping against his belly, his previous load still glistening down his shaft, perfect for using to lube him up.

"Can I put my mouth on you?" You ask tentatively, fingers ghosting over his balls, up his shaft to wrap deftly around the tip. You pull his foreskin down a little to reveal the mushroom shaped head, another blurt of precum shooting out of his slit and coating your thumb.

Billy never does reply to you, too entranced with the look of your hand on his bare skin, your own flesh feeling so hot it almost burns, searing through his sensitive spots.

You shuffle forward a bit more, mouth hovering over the head of his cock so you can spit a glob of saliva onto it for extra lubricant. Billy hisses, big doe eyes staring at you, unblinking, in awe of you and what you're doing for him.

When your lips finally wrap around the tip, you can't help the moan that leaves you. He tastes salty but clean as you suck and lick at him, heady in such a delicious way it intoxicates you, clouds your senses. You move your hand a bit lower so you can take more of him in, having to bring up your other hand to wrap with it so you can cover his shaft properly.

He's so thick, stretching your mouth wide and cracking your lips. You sink down a bit further, taking more of his cock in until you're gagging, throat closing up around him.

You can hear Billy's fingernails scratching at the leather of the chair, his hips stuttering up into your mouth in a telltale sign that he's close to coming already. His belly is shaking, moans escaping him in quick presession like he can't contain them.

You can't let him come like this; you had to have his cock in you before your visit was over, your core ached for it, your panties feeling damp just from touching him. Billy consumed your entire being, had you feeling needy and desperate.

When you release his dick with a 'pop' he sputters out a little whine, a clear sign that he was so close to the edge before you finished what you were doing.

You look up at him through wet lashes, his face burning a deep purple and the veins on his neck popping from the strain of him struggling not to come. You get up off your knees, pulling your tights down your legs along with your panties so that you're bare from the bottom down, sliding your shirt up over your head to just leave you in a bra on top.

"What're you, shit," Billy struggles to get his words out, ticking and wiping his nose with the backs of his fingers, "what're you doing?"

"Can I ride you?" You ask gently, edging closer to him and kicking his feet until his legs are a bit closer together. Billy nods, and you take that as permission to mount him, spread legs bracketing his hairy thighs.

You flip your skirt up a little, reaching behind you to grab at the base of Billy's cock. You rub the tip in between your folds, all whilst watching him and you don't miss the way his eyes roll back, head tipping so his stubbly neck is bared to you.

You take it slowly, sliding down inch by inch until your cunt is nestled against his groin, thatch of dark pubes tickling your delicate skin. You feel so full it's delicious, his thick cock feeling like it was made to be nestled deep in you.

Billy instinctively reaches out to grab at your hips, stilling you from moving until he got used to the feeling of your soaking wet cunt enveloping him. He breathes in and out deeply, not even baring to look at you, worried he'd blow his load immediately if he did.

You bring your hands out to gently brush over his cheeks, silently forcing him to look at you, which he does eventually. He's just so pretty, his big brown orbs watery and bloodshot, his plump red lips bitten, his cute nose darkened from the constant rubbing as he ticked.

He was so perfect you couldn't fucking stand it. You let your knees do some work for you, finally lifting up a few inches and sinking back down to the hilt. Billy's eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched moan leaving him, the feeling of your sopping, gummy cunt tightening around him feeling fucking heavenly.

You pick up a steady pace quickly, letting yourself be consumed by Billy completely. His big hands running up and down from your waist to your hips and back again, his moans and whimpers clouding your head, his thick cock nudging at your insides so deliciously it made you ache.

You remove your hands from his face, reaching to unclasp your bra and let it fall, baring your tits to him. You shake him gently to make him open his eyes, so he can get a good eyeful. What you don't expect is for him to lean forward immediately and latch onto your left nipple, suckling gently.

"Oh, Billy," You're a moaning mess above him, your cunt feeling so full, whole body on fire with the feeling of his body hard pressed against yours. He's mouthing at your breasts, sucking on your nipples as if his life depended on it.

He's whining, hips stuttering up against yours to meet your bounces. There's no real rhythm to it, his inexperience clear as day, but you're struggling to care with how good he's making you feel. The catch and drag of the head of his cock brushing your spongey spot, making your pussy slicker than before.

"God, darling, I'm so sorry," Billy groans, letting go of your nipple and kissing along the swell of your tit instead, whining out as you speed up a little, helping him chase his orgasm, "I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"Do it, babe, s'okay," You moan, tugging at his hair a little to get him to crane his neck up, to finally press a kiss to his lips. That's what does it for him, has his hips stuttering against yours as he comes deep inside of you.

He opens his mouth to moan, and you take that as your opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to lap lazily against his own. He shudders through his orgasm, your hips slowing down to a stop when he starts to shake with overstimulation.

He's not very good at kissing, but his plump lips and wide tongue make up for it. You find your cunt fluttering at the feeling, clamping down around his cock to milk the final bit of come out of him. You try not to be disappointed that you haven't been able to chase your own release, too focused on making Billy feel good.

You're not sure when you stop kissing, but when you do and you open your eyes again, you notice Billy's eyes are wet and his cheeks are stained with tear marks. You wipe his tears away with your thumb, smiling at him until he's forced to smile back.

"Good?" You ask gently, hips rocking subtly, his soft cock still nudging slightly against your soft spot. You try not to be pushy, knowing he'd be sensitive, but you can't help but want to do it again, the coil in your gut still wound tight with need.

Billy nods, huffing out a little, "I can - I can feel that, you know?" He says, nodding towards your soft hips moving, "It's - it's really sensitive, God."

You continue moving your hips in silence, squeezing your cunt around him, feeling his dick throbbing inside of you like it's trying to pique interest again. You really hope it does, you need to do this for a little longer, just a little.

"You can come again though, right? Let me try, please?" You're basically begging him, forehead to forehead and circling your hips back and forth on his already half hard cock and he's crying again, overcome with pleasure and sensitivity, struggling to think straight through the feeling of you on top of him.

Billy nods anyway, a silent yes and you use the leverage of your knees on the hard material of the chair to rise back up again, sinking back down softly. You do it like this until he's fully hard again, up down, up down, up down, your nails digging into the skin of his neck to keep yourself stable.

His hot hands on your waist make your skin feel like it's on fire, has your tummy coiling even tighter, the telltale sign of your own orgasm beginning to wash over you with every drag of his cock head against your gummy walls.

"That's it, Bill, God, your cock feels so good." You cry out, chasing your high until your cunt spasms around him and you feel the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing around you. A gush of slick comes from you, making your pussy impossibly wetter, so wet you feel it drip down your inner thighs onto Billy's own.

You feel like you black out for a second, only coming to when you feel Billy's hands grip onto your hips impossibly tighter so he can fuck up into you from below, his wet moans telling you he's close to coming again, too.

"Fuck, I love you, darling, shit. Love you, always have, m'so sorry, fuckfuck," Billy's hands slide up your back, tugging you until you're impaled on his cock impossibly deeper, chest pressed flush to his own as he comes for the third time, face buried into your neck tightly.

Your heart swells at his words, face flushing dark at the confession. Your insides bloom warmly, consumed with the sheer love you have for him, "I love you too, Bill. Loved you forever, was it not obvious?"

Billy's crying against your chest, hot tears spilling onto your bare chest, "No, I didn't, God, why didn't you tell me?"

"You needed to get better first, Bill." Your voice is soft, hand deftly running over his hair soothingly, "You're getting better now, though. It was time. I'm here forever, I'm not going anywhere."

You whisper encouraging words into his skin until his cries come to a stop, his shuddering body finally stilling. He'd finish his treatment, get the fuck out of here and you could start your life together.

It was the only thing keeping him focused on getting better - he needed to, to go out and see the world with you by his side.

[apprenticestanheight]

Post Bathroom trap! Adam Stanheight x gn! reader headcanons

allllll right!! An anon came into my inbox and got me thinking about Adam as a vet as he mentioned wanting to be one the original saw script, and now this exists! Thank you to that anon for spurring on this idea (though you had no idea you did, and I have no idea if you're reading this) this was fun to write!

this fic was ALSO an excuse to imagine adam in this style of glasses (I can admit that I am entirely biased as a glasses wearer myself but I thought about it for two seconds and then was like "this will never cease to be my favorite thing ever." so now we're here)

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of PTSD related avoidance (adam refuses to go back to the part of the city where the trap was located), mentions of nightmares/anxiety and ptsd being tripped up by something unspecified, mentions of dehydration and starvation after Adam was rescued. Also, this set of headcanons was longer than I had meant for it to be so oops.

Okay, so!!

Adam is found by the police with Lawrences help (also john kramers--a guilt ridden Lawrence Gordon would BEG for Adams life to be saved and for the spare key to the cuff on Adams ankle and you cannot ever convince me otherwise) and insistence from you (who had filed a missing persons report after a day of missed calls, texts that never delivered, and the stray cat Adam occasionally looked after was found mewing at his door, begging to be allowed entrance to his apartment) after four days. He's starving and dehydrated as all fucking hell, but he dimly registers being lifted onto a gurney and the sound of your voice as you tell him you love him and that he's alive, that he's okay.

He goes through surgery (y'know, bullet wounds and all) and wakes up to be told that, due to the spot in his shoulder where the bullet wound up, he's probably going to deal with consistent pain there the rest of his life.

He's just grateful to be out, really. Grateful that Lawrence kept his word, grateful that you harassed the police, in essence, because you cared so much about him.

He's rehydrated with fluids and eats until he's not hungry anymore, still finding the time within exhaustion and it's interruptions with food and your company to fret about seeing Lawrence in the hospital.

I mean--Lawrence does come to see him, but only when he's asleep because stressing Adam out is not a good idea when he's been out of the trap for two days and is going to be in the hospital for another five at minimum.

Lawrence writes Adam a letter of apology, though, and Adam reads it while you've gone home to shower and to feed the stray that comes by his apartment. He doesn't want to accept Lawrences apology to his face, but he decides that some part of him understands why Lawrence did it as he did, and internally accepts Lawrences apology, deciding to let himself move on from it as best he can.

Adam gets discharged from the hospital after a week, at which point he's like "okay. to start, I need to stop doing freelance. That shit almost got me killed."

He's also traumatized and VERY anxious about going to the part of Jersey where the trap is located. Being freelance might mean he has to go to that area, which plays a bigger part than he's willing to admit.

He's sitting in your apartment one day, having been too anxious to go back to his even after he'd been assured that Jigsaw believed how grateful he'd managed to become and would not test him again unless he did something that Jigsaw deemed worthy of such a test.

He starts thinking about life while sitting at your kitchen table, open and closing his fist while doing that "powpowpowpowpow!!" sound that you do when you're messing with kittens as the stray you'd taken in after finding her covered in oil on the side of the road had found herself on your kitchen table.

He looks at you, having just ordered your favorite takeout, and goes "Remember high school?"

You nod at this, anxious but excited to see where, exactly, he plans to take the conversation.

"We started dating in October of sophomore year," you said. "You dropped out March of junior year, Adam. I remember it."

Adam remembers it, too, watching you walk across the stage as a high school graduate where he'd dropped out because he was flunking. He remembers feeling proud of you, supporting you with forehead kisses and promises to order your favorite food if you studied, helping you work your way through your college degree.

"What's got you thinking about it?" you'd ask as Adam lifted the stray orange tabby kitten into his arms, tucking her under his chin.

"I was thinking... remember how I wanted to be a vet?"

You look at him, head tilted, mouth slightly agape. Of course you'd remembered, but those dreams were ones you thought he'd given up on.

"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah. I remember. Why?"

"I was looking into it and I think I'm going to get my GED," Adam says. "Might also look into taking the SATs, I heard that a decent score will help me get a bachelors degree. Once I get my bachelors, I'll go to vet school."

"Adam," you whisper, a little stunned. "Oh my God. Are you serious?"

Adam grins, gaze meeting yours as he nods.

You have a like,, like,, you're just...

you're SO HAPPY because you have loved that man for a literal DECADE by the time he's like "okay yeah. I'm going to get my life together."

You stand up and head to the kitchen, delighting in the sound of Adams laughter as you go.

"Grabbing the good whiskey?" He calls.

"The best stuff in our cabinets!" you call back.

So the cycle starts.

Adam gets himself enrolled in the GED program your old high school offers, and many nights are spent with Adam, glasses on his face and cat dubbed Spice sitting on the couch cushion behind him, studying to make sure he gets the materials right.

You help him take practice tests and kiss him senseless the first time he gets a near perfect score, and from then it only seems like things get better.

Adam aces the GED test and gets the diploma, lets himself smoke a cigarette for the first time since the trap to celebrate the victory because, even if he didn't get the diploma until eight years after he should've graduated and gotten it, he still got it.

Then, you help him study for the SATs and Spice the cat bats at his notes and the textbooks he studies from whenever one of their corners is hanging off the coffee table.

You get VERY USED to the sight of Adam in his glasses because,, studying and wearing CONTACTS?? no. that sounds like a nightmare.

he gets a good score on the SATs and then applies to a decent college in the city to do a bachelors in science with a focus on zoology.

GUESS WHAT?? He's in college doing his bachelors and working part time as a secretary at the local vets office so that he can sort of get a feel for the environment he'll be expecting post vet school.

You're at his side throughout the entirety of it, and when Adam starts going to therapy (lets be honest--he busies himself with first his GED, then the SATS, then applying and getting into the college he wants for his bachelors and also working part time at the vets offices to avoid thinking about his experience in the bathroom trap) you're supportive of him throughout every step because he supported you through high school, and college, and the long nights spent making sure your career went how you wanted it to go.

He and Lawrence develop a friendship after some time as well, which is nice, and eventually, without realizing it, Adam has developed his own little support system.

Granted, by the time he's hitting 30 and graduating with his bachelors, it's 2008 and his support system is made up of his partner, a doctor with whom he was trapped by the oh-so infamous Jigsaw, and an orange tabby cat who you lovingly washed free of oil and ticks with dawn dish soap when she was two weeks old, but it counts.

He gets into vet school and you hug-tackle him when he tells you the news.

You knock his glasses onto the floor and the two of you end up kissing, breathless on the couch of the apartment you'd moved into together, both because your old one was heading steadfastly into disrepair and remaining unfixed by the landlord, and to celebrate that he'd finished the bachelors degree at which he had worked tirelessly.

The two of you watch Spice the cat bat his glasses around, breathless but completely and utterly elated.

Adam goes to a vet school in the state and it's more studying, more forehead kisses and a lot of restless nights consumed by kissing whenever he correctly guesses the answer from one of his study flashcards, making jokes and laughing just a bit at one anothers expenses, crying into Spice the cats fur whenever it all gets too overwhelming.

he graduates the vet school in 2012, and at that point he has an 'oh shit' moment where he's like

"okay wait. so. I am thirty four. I have been dating Y/N since we were sixteen. we've been dating for eighteen years and haven't gotten married?? what??"

SO HE'S LIKE: 'okay. vets make decent money. I am going to buy them a ring and it's gonna be amazing.'

realistically, he's thirty four and realizing at that point (when the two of you are financially stable enough to be looking at fucking HOUSES in the early 2010s) that the two of you have been together for more than half of your lives and he's making good enough money that money and making the rent isn't a concern anymore and it's a genuine shock.

John Kramer died (which was a story that broke national news) and Adam has had the time to heal, which he finds even odder but it's--it's a nice kind of odd.

So, he starts working as a vet at the office where he used to be a secretary and with his first paycheck, he BUYS YOU A RING. SWEET SWEET MAN.

He proposes in February of 2013 (not on valentines day, but on the 26th because that's your nineteen year anniversary) at the place where you had your first date

the place?? a bookstore that sold used cameras at a discount. Adam proposed to you with a book of memories and photographs he'd taken chronicling those memories. At the end it has the words 'will you marry me?' and a photo of Spice the cat asleep on a sign that says 'look up' so then you do

AND BOOM. HE'S ON HIS KNEE. A BOX IS OPEN IN HIS HAND. A RING IS IN THAT BOX.

You laugh a little and pull a ring out of your pocket, offering it to him as you try to fend off the urge to comment about how unserious it seems despite how serious it is.

ADAM IS AS SHOCKED AS YOU WERE WHEN HE BROUGHT UP GETTING HIS GED.

He's like "a ring? why would they--OH SHIT. THEY HAD THE SAME IDEA."

The two of you just...silently laugh in the bookstore while you nod and slip the rings you bought onto the others finger, kissing and hugging because what even was that day. what.

You get married on that day in 2014, when the two of you have been together for a literal whole entire TWENTY FUCKING YEARS because you're just that cool.

It's also a little weird for Adam--he's 36 at this point, the anniversary of his escaping the trap will come around in late November.

Its good weird, though. He's still privy to weed on occasion--particularly nights where the nightmares come back and he can't sleep, or when he sees something that trips him up and sends him back to that bathroom, cuffed by the ankle to a pipe, the key having gone skittering down the drain--but he doesn't smoke nearly as often as he did during his mid-twenties.

man rakes in 125,000 american dollars, has a fucking MORTGAGE AND CAR INSURANCE BILL and on the day of the wedding you two are looking back at 2004 and are just like "woah. A lot has changed in the last decade"

Adam has gotten to become the person that the guy who was cuffed by the ankle never thought he'd be, though, so he's super proud of himself and his accomplishments.

you're proud of him, too--you have a cat, a mortgage, a car insurance bill and aren't worried about the paying of any of those bills in the slightest. Marrying him is one of your greatest accomplishments because?? hello?? marrying the love of your life who turned his life around in less than six thousand days?? he is. he is amazing. and you just. you just love him wholeheartedly

all in all, it's a good existence and I have to believe Adam would've done good for himself after surviving the trap because if I don't then I can't sleep at night lolz

[gardenletter]

Yandere orc x reader ❤️🔥🥀🔪💚 part 3

This is going to be more of ✨WHAT ITS LIKE LIVING WITH XURL✨

Xurl was...always with you. He would often sleep at the side of your bed (when you fall asleep he would sneak into the covers).He would often nuzzle you with his tusks. It was strange to say the least but you weren't complaining you needed the company and being in the forest all alone wasn't the safest as we learned earlier,so having an orc roommate wasn't bad ... especially one so*cough cough*.

You weren't completely in the dark about orc culture...you lived with them for quite a few years ,but you were far from an expert.Xurl's behavior was unusual but you assumed pre and post puberty would change behavior and even what was expected culturally and you didn't see orcs interact with each other in there own homes.Maybe there a more touchy species .So it means Xurl likes you (there not lol he just obsessed with you *cough cough*)

Xurl would often hunt and gather food for you.You have fun running around the woods with him finding food and even Herbs for your little shop

One time you accidentally stumbled upon Xurl taking a bath in a nearby river and you saw everything from his torso up.It was a sight.He saw you and even invited you in but you were too much of a blushing mess

With Xurl being your new roommate you made more space and got rid of low hanging lights so he can walk around more freely(still small lol)

He would often try to follow you into town when you go to work,but you have to always stop him.Times have changed but not everyone has changed their mind set.Your town is relatively inclusive and safe, with a Neko family and Mr Pine being of elf blood.But an orc as you realize is much different than a cute Neko especially when the town is made up of mainly humans. So you do it for his own good.

It does break your heart each day when you see his sad lonely face 😭(but you always promise you'll return)

(he totally stalks you by the forest line to make sure you're safe....yeah)

He LOVES small animals just loves them

I've been living with Xurl for a few months now and he was definitely entertaining and nice to have around. We've been trying to get to know each other again, but funnily Xurl didn't change much...well personality wise anyway.But Xurl has been acting strange as of late. Fidgeting more, stumbling over his words he was nervous and anxiety ridden. I decided I'd bring it up to him. He's beginning to worry me and the moment I decide to open my mouth he shoves one of his tusk rings into my face.The gold piece of jewelry was reflecting the sun beautifully and beyond the ring and his large hands.

I see his eyes

They were practically looking through me.A blush crawls from my neck to my cheeks as I register what this means.As a child I would often see orc couples share matching rings on their tusks similar to the human tradition of wedding rings.I stutter and look around "T-This is lovely X-xurl b-but"I couldn't even finish my sentence before I saw the hurt in his eyes and he lowered the ring."O-Oh I...I'm sorry"I could hear his voice quiver a little and my heart started to swell and I started to choke up.

"Xurl...I'm really flattered..but-" I was cut off again "I thought we had started courting...I should have know...I'm sorry y/n i will go" his head was hanging low to hide the tears in his eyes as he walked to the door I felt annoyed by his fast assumption and interrupting me like THAT SHIT HEAD... "MY GOODNESS XURL CANT YOU LET ME Finish A SENTENCE" and I quickly grabbed his hand stopping him from moving towards the door.He looked at me with a mix of confusion and relief as his hand clasped over mine ."I was going to say I'm flattered and I should have known what some of the stuff I did for you implied in orc culture.I've gotten rusty in the department"his eyes raised from the floor but still held a sad look.

My face flushed as I thought of my next words "Xurl I don't want you to leave...I like you a lot...........Like in a romantic way but I didn't think we were counting originally so the ring was a surprise".He shot straight up making him reach his full height and his eyes filled with hope "Xurl...I...lov-" but before I could finish my word strong arms were around my waist and lips on mine.I relaxed in his touch.

"I'm sorry"....

"I'm sorry too"

A smile danced on our lips as he looked at me and his grip on me tightens slitly"I know the tusk ring is more of an engagement thing but will you still expect it.I want others to know your mine"heat was in my cheeks at his words and I felt my legs fall under me but with Xurls arms still around me I stayed standing"y-yes...I would love too....as long as you stop interrupting me " he chuckled at my comment "sorry love I was just nervous"and his lips envelope mine once more as he slipped the "ring" on to my wrist.

Your all mine

I hope you liked part 3 of my orc oc lol.if people still show interest in Xurl I will make more stuff on him and hopefully my other ocs.So show some love and I hope you guys are doing well

Love gardenletter 💕

[bunniekittiee]

(MK1) Bi-Han Headcanons

I was listening to Jar of Flies and it came into my head that I never did separate Bi-Han headcanons about himself. So this is what I think he would be like. This is also very music-based but yk its all good.

Bi-Han is known as the goth man of Mortal Kombat because of Noob but I think he would be a bit more grungey.

He loved dark and haunting music even before he became a wraith.

Alice In Chains was his first listen to Earthrealm music as he had never interacted with it before. Johnny had to tell him about them.

“I think it’s up your alley.” Johnny told him as he handed him a CD player with a few CDs.

Bi-Han did not trust his judgement at first and even put it off for a little bit, but he soon regretted putting it off as soon as he listened to Jar of Flies.

Absolutely loved AIC after this.

Related Jar of Flies to his own trauma with losing his mother and his father’s harsh treatment.

That’s another can of worms that cannot be opened in great detail today.

Would also like Narrow Head, Superheaven (duh i headcanon every character to like them), Mareux, Basement, Nine Inch Nails, but that’s just to name a few.

Associates “Hole in the Ground” by Superheaven with Kuai Liang and tries to not listen to it too much.

This is much worse after his betrayal. Bi-Han hardly touches the song after because of this.

It would only make him feel horrible and guilty.

Also associates “Necrosis” by Narrow Head with his father because of his hurtful treatment as a kid.

Bi-Han was trained a pushed a lot harder than Kuai Liang and even Tomas who was not their blood kin, so Bi-Han held a lot of resentment for his father.

He treated Tomas more like a son than he did Bi-Han.

Bi-Han wondered if this was so he could become a tough Grandmaster, and that’s how he reasoned it in his head, but it still messed with him.

When he lost his mother, it was devastating. She was the only one who supported him and took care of him after suffering from bouts of hypothermia from his father testing his might in the Arctika.

She was there for everything and always made sure Bi-Han was well.

When she passed, he did not have that support system anymore. That is when he knew it was time to become a man and move on.

He never moved on, but he did become a man.

His exterior was already cold, but it became much more worse after the death of his mother.

That is the Bi-Han we know today.

He never held much warmth despite his brothers telling him he should.

He hardly wanted to give his father a funeral, but he knew he could not go in that direction. He needed to honor him despite his dishonorable acts against the Lin Kuei.

He was a weak, senile Grandmaster. He was not fit to rule.

But Bi-Han was, he was ready to reform the clan and change the weaker policies his father implemented after the death of his mother.

Kuai Liang always tried to reason with Bi-Han, but he never changed his mind. Once Bi-Han was set, he was ready.

It didn’t matter what Kuai said or did, Bi-Han would never budge.

He was very stubborn to the dismay of his brothers.

Late at night if Bi-Han could not sleep, he would listen to music to help him.

Bi-Han could not sleep well because of the creeping thoughts of his childhood/adulthood that caused him great pain.

It often seeped into his dreams which caused him to not be able to go back to sleep.

That’s why he looks so tired, he just has a hard time sleeping. His mind is too occupied and the gears are always turning about.

“Blank” by Glare also makes Bi-Han reflect on his life. He listens to that when he can’t sleep.

Sometimes, it’s able to lull him to sleep.

Tomas and Kuai do worry about Bi-Han.Tomas suspects that Bi-Han is depressed, maybe anxiety-ridden.

But they’ll never know. Bi-Han is super against vulnerability and he hates to feel that way.

He also does not like to be forced to talk about his feelings or what’s bothering him. It makes him feel like he’s trapped in a corner like a wild animal.

After Bi-Han’s betrayal, Sektor and Cyrax are the ‘replacements’ for his siblings.

But they never are interested in what Bi-Han’s mental stability is. They are not that close to be aquatinted like that.

All they care about is having a Grandmaster that is ready to conquer and give them orders. They are warriors, they are ready for anything Bi-Han throws their way.

When Bi-Han was younger, his father did everything to make his life difficult. This lead to Bi-Han being very angry often.

He trained alone in the temple, his knuckles bloody from the amount of punching he did. His knuckles would be raw and cut open badly.

His mother would coax him away from the training room to let her wrap his hands up. She did this very often as Bi-Han was the main target of his father’s wrath.

He hardly cried in front of her, but every once in a while he broke. But she picked up his pieces.

Bi-Han loved his mother greatly, her death pained him the most out of everyone.

So when he looks in the mirror, all he sees reflecting back at him is his mother.

Her eyes, her facial features, her caring demeanor.

But Bi-Han was hardened, extremely rough around the edges.

He could never be as caring and loving like her. It wasn’t in his DNA to be that way. That was more Kuai Liang’s personality.

Sometimes if he stared for too long, he would see her in the mirror. But only for a mere moment.

He blamed it on lack of sleep and never told anyone.

Bi-Han is extremely troubled, and he requires a lot of patience and understanding. He will not open up right away to anyone.

[circinuus]

warnings: profanities.

Imagine going home late evening. The streets have gotten unusually silent these days. The silence makes your steps louder, and so are the footsteps of someone that seemingly match yours.

You make a quick scan of the dimly lit streets, taking two left turns to an alley you vaguely knew.

The footsteps still follow you.

All you hear is now your quick breaths and the anxiety pumping in your heart. Your steps turn to trots, then to a run. There is a person--people following you.

"Shit," your hands tremble as they swipe over your phone. The slippery, post-rain pavements don't make your strides any more steady.

Answer, answer-

"(Name)? are you-"

The phone slipped away from your cold hands with the sound of a gunshot. That moment you realize, these people aren't just shadows, and the image of your body dying in a ditch might not be a farfetched vision.

There wasn't any time to reach for your cracked phone or to not swallow down your sob as you stagger through the rain-ridden street.

A flit of shadow appears in the corner of your eyes, and you take a sharp turn to the nearest pathway. Another on the far distance; you take another turn.

Mind blinded by haste, you fail to miss the man waiting on the other side of the alley, walking straight into his hold like a mouse to a mousetrap. Your chest constricts, blood running cold when your adrenaline forces you to resist. But the hold- the hold on you doesn't budge.

-Until your breath loosens and panic calms down in silent sobs. You knew this scent, this warmth, the gentle hand that pushed your head to his shoulder. You are engulfed in a protective embrace.

"I'm here." his hold tightens, hushing your panicked tears with gentle rubs on the back of your head. "I'm so sorry. You're safe now."

The footsteps get louder before stopping with the sound of cocked guns. Chuuya doesn't let go of his grasp, keeping your vision away from the unscrupulous idiots who dared to mess with you, of all people.

"Now," he puts his hat on your head, lowering it to your eyes. "Which one of you fuckers wants to die first?"

i was watching some action movies and this happened. i'm working on the rqs i promise 🤡

@ashthemadwriter

[donotnomi]

Find the Word

Thanks @middlingmay for the tag! I'm glad but also paralyzed by anxiety because it's my first-ever post about MOTA after months of tentative lurking, and I feel like I'm going to mess things up.

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

I still have not written a single line from my MOTA WIPs because...this fandom is a little intimidating, so many talented writers. But I'll try.

My Words: god, mine, night, doll

Your Words: blonde, sun, booze, luck *

God

From a WIP tentatively titled The Letter

Marge, If you're reading this, it means I succeeded in bringing your man safely home from the stalag. If the God you're probably thanking right now truly exists and isn't the sadist he seems to be, I'm still in Germany, lifeless under its merciless sky now dominated only by clouds.

Mine

From a WIP tentatively titled The Animal Kingdom

As the weight of Meatball in his arms became more evident, so did the awareness of his tactical error. He had lifted the dog in an attempt to show Jon how foolish his desire to belong to him was, whether in human or animal form. If he had become a Creature, if he had become a horse as he had said, would his endless desire have been fulfilled by being brushed, cared for, fed, and ridden by Gale? Ridden... Gale shook his head, blushing a bit as Meatball licked his right cheek. He risked a glance in John's direction. He saw an infinite fondness in his eyes, masking his recurring thought, his sole obsession: I want you to be mine. So much so that he wished he could be in Meatball's place, licking his cheek, fur and all.

Night

From a WIP tentatively titled The Letter

Marge, I didn't follow through with what I warned you against, and now I'm filled with regret. Your Gale, my Buck, being the man he is, wouldn't have denied it to me out of sympathy or desperation for my sanity. The temptation to have that possibility right there every night was agonizing, but the thought of accepting his pity in order to take it was unbearable.

Doll

From a WIP tentatively titled The Animal Kingdom

John no longer called him doll. John was no longer John, consumed by the proximity of the stalag, confused by how Gale kept him at a distance. Gale no longer felt like himself, his humanity increasingly resembling a ragged doll, the novelty of his animal mutation advancing cell by cell. With every millimeter conquered, that human part of him defined by his love for John disappeared. He envied John's reckless attitude in letting his creeping madness overflow. All his energy was focused on imprisoning it within, on preserving the humanity he had left, that still bound him to John. He had no strength left to take care of John, who was slipping further into madness. If he had reached out to him, that single effort would have caused him to fall as well. He could do nothing but stand on the edge of the abyss, watching John fall.

Not sure who's already been tagged or who wants to play along, so feel free to continue the game.

[corvussnakee]

I decided to draw one of the skeletons in the fic I'm working on. It's based off of another fic but some of the themes are just- it's really fuckin dark man... I'm trying to adjust the story in my head to still be like, angsty and dark but not too dark at the same time. I really wanna write out a fic I won't feel scared to post under my Ao3 account :(

(Tho I still might post the fic under Annon just because I'm an social anxiety ridden mess)

Besides my forever woes and complaints, here's uhh... DB (Destroyer Blue). Name pending...

Instead of using like, just strings. He can produce large barbed wired vines. His way of destruction it setting down roots and then pulling them up to also tear apart the ground above. So if he's destroying an underground AU then like- you better be praying on your hands and knees that some outcode comes along to yoink you out of there because this sucker is causing a cave in.

Surface words are more so just normal root pulling. He'll try to attach the ends of the barbed wire vines to like, large buildings or land masses so then he can use those to increase the damage done when he starts dragging his vines.

I got this whole idea of him being like- called an angel of death/destruction. And people call him this because the barbed marking on his face expands and spins around his skull like a sideways halo (Only when he's using a large amount of magic) and his vines sprout from his back like crude plant wings.

Also, just notes about his personality n'shtuff:

- Very apathetic.

He only really cares about Dusk/Apathy(His Dream), Splatter name pending...(His Ink), and His Cross (Doesn't have a name yet). Example of this is uh. Say he was brought to a meeting with Dusk and Splatter. He's spending all of that meeting on his phone, or even just clocking out midway to go destroy an AU for the sole reason of 'I dunno, just felt like it.' Dude does not care what anyone has to say unless it's from those four. So most of his info he gets from the others.

- He has a bit of a vengeful spark to him.

DB has that quiet anger. You don't know that he's angry until it's too late. He may be very apathetic but it's really easy to slip up around him and find yourself without an AU to go back home to. So important Note: don't try to pull shit with DB if you still got connections to an AU.

- He likes Vocaloid music

Whenever he wants to block out the world, or when he's destroying AUs, DB plays Vocaloid music. Dude likes his silly little bo-bot singers man. Miku for life!!! So ya, when he's tearing apart an AU he could literally have fuckin Magical Cure!Love❤Shot! being blasted into his skull. The Miku Miku beam becomes reality.

So ya. Hope to make more shtuff of this dude as he's pretty cool.

[hyatoro]

Okayy we saw househusband!franklin and we all enjoyed it EXTREMELY so how about househusband!minsu

Hwang Minsu

Househusband!Minsu is MUCH less competent than Franklin. 

It’s literally just a skill issue. 

He absolutely does his best and it’s weird for him to adjust to a different time schedule than he’s used to. 

Even when you two were dating he was still mostly used to only taking care of one person’s needs at a time. Whenever he’d do things for you he had a bad habit of disregarding his own needs. Which is part of the reason why you insisted on moving in and getting married, so he’d get better at that. 

Not having to worry about getting kicked out for missing rent and having food on the table does wonders for the poor man. Cries when you tell him that it’s his house too and that he’s welcome to put all his own things where he wants them. Specifically the important mementos his mother left him. 

He’s not ‘burns water’ bad at cooking, but it definitely takes a lot of practice to get good at cooking. Apologizes every time the food doesn’t taste good/wastes ingredients trying to figure something out. 

Swoons when you put bandages on his cuts from learning how to use a knife properly. Boosts his motivation greatly. 

Like his mom loved him a lot and did most of the cooking, which led to him not developing those skills when he was younger. And well. When she died he had other things on his plate aside from learning how to cook when he could easily eat the convenience store leftovers. 

He eventually does get the hang of things and excitedly shows you some cookbooks he’d want to check out and try things from. 

He was already decent at cleaning and stuff, but also got overwhelmed at the size of your new home since he was living in a dingy one room apartment before. Again, he does eventually adapt. 

Your love and support literally mean so much to him. 

Another guilty laundry sniffer. Doesn’t go as far putting on full outfits, but he definitely takes your coats/jackets/hoodies, and wears them around when he does chores. You can give them to him but he refuses. Something about how it’s better when they’re yours in name. But he’s also conflicted because it would be another gift to him… It doesn’t matter since you share closet space anyway. 

You have to scent mark him every day before work. If you don't he gets really fucking sad and is super clingy and pouty when you get home.

He’s needy and horny so sometimes he jerks off in just your hoodie. He got so worked up at the idea of you catching him like this that he cums twice, making a mess of himself by the time you got home. He always greets you at the door like a separation-anxiety-ridden-puppy, but it’s a lovely surprise when you see him that day. In just your hoodie with his cum dripping down his thighs, hearts in his eyes as he flushes at the sight of you. 

Again, he’s insatiable when it comes to you. He’s leaned up against the wall for support, rubbing his slick thighs together as he welcomes you home. 

(*´ ˘ `*).｡oO ( ♡ )

[milkyplier]

Rescue Ranch AU - Legend (Mountain)

Legend sits up, and the world swirls around him in smears of blues and greens and blacks. He doesn’t even realize he’s fallen to the side until his arm connects with the ground and send shockwaves through his body. Nausea rises in his gut, so he sits there, closing his eyes and trying to take deep breaths to try and tame it. It’s less than effective, with each inhale sending sharp stabs of pain through his chest. Eventually, it simmers back down on its own, and Legend tries again to sit up, much more carefully this time. He’s only sat fully up for a few seconds when there’s a low, familiar nicker and a velvety nose pushing against his shoulder.

“M’okay, Raven,” Legend mumbles, reaching out blindly to tangle his fingers in her mane. “S’okay, lady.”

He takes in a few more barely-steadying breaths. His head throbs badly enough that it’s messing up his vision. Raven brushes her nose against him again, evidently less than pleased with his answer. He touches the right side of his face, and his fingers come away sticky with blood. He winces at the sight, and that is when the anxiety begins to set in. He’s bleeding, probably has broken ribs and a concussion, and it occurs to him that he did not immediately remember what caused it or where he is.

He has no idea how long he’s been out; his lack of urgency was plenty of time for some infected monster to sneak up on him. With that, he gets a better grip on Raven’s mane and uses her to steady himself as he gets to his feet. She stands still, patiently supporting him and shoving her nose against his stomach when he’s fully standing. She probably just wants treats, but Legend leans some of his weight across her face and uses it to catch his breath. Again, she stands still until Legend straightens again, running a hand through her mane and murmuring praises to her.

Now standing, Legend takes a look around. He’s on a mountain, a familiar path he’s ridden a hundred times before. To his left, the path continues, clear, further into the mountains. To his right, where the path would have lead them out of the mountains and onto Legend’s own land, the path is covered in a lot of rocks.

*

A cruel cackles precedes the rumbling on the mountainside, drawing Legend’s attention up. His blood runs cold as he spots the monsters, a Moblin and a Bokoblin, at the top of the slope, pushing and hitting rocks until there’s a full-blown mini landslide rushing down the slope towards Marin and Legend. Legend redirects his gaze to Marin, who’s riding in front of him, and she makes eye contact with him. Her browns eyes are wide with terror, and that snaps Legend into action.

“Run!” He yells at her. “Go, gallop!”

He turns Raven to the left sharply, but he’s unable to bring himself to turn her away fully and start moving—that would take his eyes off Marin. He watches as Marin spurs her gelding forward, and the first rocks begin to smash against the mountain path, spooking the horse. It delays her escape and for a split second, Legend is frozen. Fear, grief, rage and sheer helplessness create a toxic mixture, running like fire through his veins and freezing his lungs. The image of Marin, fighting to guide her horse through the chaos, is the very last thing he sees before pain explodes in his right temple—and the world shatters like porcelain against a black backdrop.

*

“Marin!?” He shouts instinctively, the memory triggering his adrenaline. He forgets instantly how much his body hurts, how very little strength he has to put towards more than trying to breathe through the pain. “Marin, where are you?!”

His voice echoes through the mountains mockingly, and he turns around sharply at the sound of a responding monster’s screech. The monsters that tried to kill him, and they didn’t sound happy that it hadn’t worked. Legend sees a Moblin and a bokoblin picking their way down the steep slope they’d been camped on. The bokoblin reaches him first, its size allowing it to traverse the pathway down with less care than the Moblin.

Legend unsheathes his sword, shooing Raven out of harm’s way and bracing himself against the creature. Legend’s rage and the ‘blin’s reckless strategy of throwing itself repeatedly at him enables him to take if down with relative ease, but he knows the Moblin will be a different story. He’s buzzing with too much adrenaline to feel his injuries, but he knows he’s less than prepared to take on a creature as big as a Moblin—especially when it’s methods of attack are the same as the Bokoblin, just more effective.

That considered, he sheathes his sword and instead pulls out his short shotgun. He waits for the cursed Moblin to get closer before there’s the satisfying click of the safety turned off, and then the blast that reverberates through the valley. In the time it takes the Moblin to recover, Legend has dumped the first two shells and reloaded. Another shot, two more shells, two more bullets, one last shot, and the creature is on the ground, a sizable hole in its gut. It isn’t dead, though, bur Legend’s sword through its throat fixes that.

He sheathes his sword again and watches the monster bleed out until he’s certain it’s dead, and then he looks up and frowns. The pressure of urgency rests on his chest; he was doing something important. The monsters must have distracted him, and now he’s going to get back to what that original thing was…as soon as remembers. He looks back at the rocks in the path, and for the second time that day it hits him like a sack of bricks: Marin.

“Marin?!” He calls again, hurrying towards the rocks. He hears no reply, he searches the pile of rocks and he sees nothing. He looks down into the valley, where the landslide fell, and his stomach twists unpleasantly. He was knocked out fairly early in the rockslide, but if he remembers, Marin was in position to be caught right in the middle of it…he banishes that thought and begins to pick his way down the mountain. He has to find her, he will find her.

And he tries. He really does. The night drags on, further and further, and Legend searches and searches and searches, up and down the mountainside, over rocks and calling out her name, over and over and over again. She never answers, and he never finds anything. Not a lock of hair, not a scrap of her shirt. Nothing.

He climbs back up onto the path for the last time, and he doesn’t realize he’s falling until he’s hit the ground and shockwaves are running through his body. He feels shaky and lightheaded, nausea returning full force. It hurts to breathe, the urge to pant stopped by how painful it is. He groans softly as the full effect of worn-off adrenaline, and the consequences of pushing himself when he should not have, hits him. He lays there for a long and unmeasured amount of time before a hitched breath triggers a coughing fit, and when it ends, the coppery taste of blood brushes the back of Legend’s tongue and he knows he can’t neglect himself any longer.

He sits up, slow and sore, and calls Raven over. He once again uses her to get himself standing, and then he is faced with the near impossible task of mounting her. His body is heavy and protests the movements, and when he swings himself up and settles into the saddle there are a few long sections in which Legend has to just grit his teeth and put all his effort into remembering how to breathe. And with that, begins the trek home, up the slope and around the rocks, and then onwards up the path closer to the mountain’s exit. His chest feels hollow as he leaves, his instincts screaming at him to stop and go back and keep looking until he finds something. But, if Legend were to be totally honest, even through the haze of pain and exhaustion and grief…he can’t quite remember what he’s supposed to be searching for.