#please help I do not have much time the edible is taking over I really should get this done ple

[i-am-a-fish]

how the fuck do I update my profile home page I am so high I am pressing so many buttons and I’m not winning 

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[syoddeye]

cooking with gaz. inspired by this ask. abrupt ending.

From the first day, you know he's going to be a problem.

When you ask the group to introduce themselves and explain why they've enrolled, Kyle answers with a wide grin, tying a needlessly elaborate knot with the ribbons of his apron.

"Gotta fuel this body right," he winks, "and I heard women like men who cook."

Half the class dissolves into nervous giggles, and you know he's already won them over. Too charming for his own good.

So, a small, mean part of you takes satisfaction in watching someone that handsome struggle at something as basic as cooking.

Except for the part where it's literally your job to help him. Easier said than done.

He turns pasta into sludge, lets a soufflé erupt in the oven, and scorches a chopping board by setting it too close to an open flame. His risotto comes out as an overly salty, crunchy rice soup. Bakes cookies so bitter and dense they could double as hockey pucks, claiming afterward he didn't know you could add too much baking soda. By the end of each class, his station looks like a war zone.

It's infuriating—his inability to follow instructions, his overconfidence. The mix of dread and something far less professional you feel whenever he walks into the room. You try to pay equal attention to your other students, but you can't stray far from his station.

You're stuck hovering, correcting him, guiding him, putting out metaphorical—and sometimes literal—fires. Your consolation is that the rest of the class at least finds him amusing. You would too, if you weren't the one scraping another charred disaster into the bin.

One evening, as the rest of the class packs up, he apologizes. Says he knows you must be frustrated by him.

"Guess I need to practice more at home," he rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his stupid, pretty face. "Think I could send you some photos for feedback?"

You hesitate, because it's absolutely crossing a line, but the image of him with an open flame alone in his flat is enough to make you fold. You have a responsibility to some degree.

"Fine." You reluctantly scribble your number on a napkin. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Yes, chef." Ugh.

The next evening, your phone buzzes as you're fixing your own dinner. A picture. Chicken parm. It's plated messily, with a little too much sauce, but it's…edible-looking. No visible inferno, either. Except your eyes don't linger on the food. They snag on his arm, front and center, forearm muscles tensed as he holds the tray.

Before you can recover, a second photo arrives. This time, a selfie. Kyle grinning ear to ear with a forkful, the very picture of someone far too pleased with himself. You want so badly to find it insufferable. Instead, it's cute. Mouth-watering in a completely different way.

>> What do you think, chef? Want a bite?

Yeah, you think, gaze lingering on the curve of his bicep. Yeah, I really do.

You hold it together long enough to respond.

> Looks good.

You leave it at that, returning to your meal with a different kind of hunger pang.

The next class, Kyle smirks across the kitchen the entire time you discuss the week's dishes. You expect some kind of sneaky comment, another disaster, but to your surprise, nothing major happens. His dishes come out fine. Not spectacular, but decent. A noticeable improvement, even if he's still a little too generous with his measurements.

You watch him, waiting for something to go wrong, but it never does. It's almost unsettling.

The texts continue between classes. To his credit, he sticks to pictures of his meals—slightly overcooked chicken, messy pasta, a cheesy-looking omelet—but there's a shift. The photos become less about the food and more about him. You nearly drop your phone in a stockpot when he sends a selfie in a tank top, holding a plate of something you don't even register because you're too busy staring.

You respond with another Looks good, silence your phone, and reconsider your life choices.

Then pozole night happens.

Kyle's actually done really well this time. You're a little shocked, looking at the pot of simmering soup that smells, against all odds, delicious.

"Want a taste?"

Before you can answer, he dips the spoon and holds it out, one hand cupped beneath to catch any drips. You lean in automatically, not even thinking about it until you feel his fingertips graze the underside of your chin. You freeze, meeting his gaze as the spoon reaches your mouth. He doesn't look away, and when you part your lips, your cheeks warm for reasons that have nothing to do with soup.

When you swallow, his eyes dart from your throat to your mouth. His lips curl into a small, knowing smile. Your knees feel embarrassingly weak. What the hell is wrong with you.

Kyle's voice dips low, fingers hovering near your chin. "You like that?"

Your breath catches. "Great job." you manage stiffly, then swiftly move on to the next student.

You feel him staring for the rest of class. You avoid looking his way, but every time you do, he's already watching you, that same maddening expression on his face.

It's not surprising when Kyle lingers after dismissal, taking too long to pack up. As the last student leaves, he corners you by the sink while you wash up.

"So," he starts, stepping closer, "are we done with the back and forth now? Or should I send a shirtless one next?"

You blink, caught between disbelief and irritation, feeling the knot of your apron loosen. Swiveling, you grab a towel off the counter and glare up at him. "What are you talking about?"

He tilts his head. Then, without breaking eye contact, he plants his hands on the counter, boxing you in. Your stomach flips. 

"C'mon, chef," Kyle says quieter, but no less confident. "I'm saying, if you want, you don't have to settle for just photos anymore. What do you say? Grab dinner with me."

It's galling, him standing there all smug like he already knows the answer. The audacity. It's absurd. Bold. But the worst part is, you don't know if you're annoyed or intrigued. You've spent weeks trying to convince yourself he's nothing more than an unfortunately hot, underwhelming cook with nice arms and a better smile. 

But at this moment, there's no point pretending anymore. You are, against your better judgment, interested.

You sigh, loud enough to make a show of it, like you really don't want to go on a date with him, and furiously dry your hands.

"Fine. But you're not cooking—we're eating out."

His grin deepens, hands finding the back of your apron's neck strap to gently tug it over your head.

"Yeah, babe," he teases. "I plan to."

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Burnt Cookies

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: fluff, suggestive

You guys thank you for 1.4k of you omg, thank you so much <3

Being a girl is hard in general, and especially when it's that time of the month when every little thing throws you off your feet and makes you cry.

Like for example now when you very enthusiastically started baking the simplest chocolate cookies only to end up in tears because your attention was distracted by the washing machine that was just finished, which made you forget to take the cookies out of the oven in time.

Of course they burned.

When you took them out they looked like little pieces of coal. Since you just happened to be on your period, the failed cookie attempt hit you harder than it would have otherwise.

You normally don't like cooking or baking or any similar culinary activities because you're simply not good at it, no matter how hard you tried to fix it, in the end you simply accepted the fact that it's not for you.

But every now and then you force yourself to cook something and Lando, like the best boyfriend ever, compliments every dish you make, even though you know he's probably lying, but it's cute how he pretends.

It was the same this time when he came home from the practice and found you crying in the kitchen over those damn cookies.

“Y/n? What happened?” He asked approaching you with a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He cupped your face wiping away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Because I'm such a failure at cooking. I can't believe that I can't even make some simple stupid cookies.” You cried, and Lando breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the reason for your sobs.

“Baby..” He chuckled shaking his head and making you look up at him. “It’s that time of the month isn’t it?” He knew you weren’t a crybaby normally and that there must have been some other reason why this made you so sad.

“It is, but that’s not important now” You continued crying.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Come here, baby. I understand.” He cooed you pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss on top of your head. “I'm sure they’re somewhat edible”

“Oh please, don’t you see them? They look like coal!”

“Here, let me try one” He said letting go of you and bringing the cookies closer to him.

“Lando, please don’t eat that”

“See? It’s not even that bad” He pretended, trying to chew on a piece of the cookie squinting his eyes at the terrible taste that it was leaving in his mouth.

You couldn't help but start laughing putting your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips.

What guy does this and how did you get so lucky, you wondered. He would literally do anything just to make you happy and to see you smile, and you couldn't be more grateful for him.

“You really love me, don’t you?” You asked looking into his eyes and caressing his cheek.

“More than you can possibly imagine” He smiled.

“I really wanted to do something nice for you” You sighed. “You do nice things for me all the time.”

“Don’t worry about that, baby.” He said pressing his lips against yours. “Besides, if you want, you can do other things for me that I will gladly appreciate” He smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm” He murmured running his tongue over your bottom lip and deepening the kiss.

“Things like..?”

“Let me show you” He whispered taking your hand in his and leading it to the zipper of his pants.

[girlokwhatever]

gf golden retriever!paige with blackcat!reader 🥺🥺

i love this cause we all know it’s true!!

golden retriever!paige bueckers x blackcat!gf hcs

🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛ golden retriever paige with a black cat gf,,

— she’s attached to your hip AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE

— she’s very very affectionate verbally and physically

- you accept it with love and appreciation

— she’s always hyper and you have to be the one to tell her to chill a bit

— will do absolutely anything for you

— you are very protective LOL

- “i don’t like the way she’s looking at you babe.”

— you’re also constantly side-eyeing people and it’s not even a joke atp

— she thinks you’re SO SEXXYYY LIKKEE

- you just have that demeanor about you

— she’s lowkey intimidated by you a little

- she knows not to make you mad

— she’ll take you shopping, buy you everything you want, AND carry all your bags

— you’ll be getting dressed up for the club; hair done, nails done, makeup done, outfit sexy and perfect

- she gawks over you the whole time

— she’s a big fan of holding your hand in public

— she also lowkey loves to be little spoon so that she can feel you holding her

— when you argue she gets really worked up and you’re always so calm about it but defo have a dismissive attitude

- you apologize later 🤗

— you highly value alone time or just silence every now and then

- paige is so respectful of your wishes cause she loves you so much so sometimes you two will just read forever and not say anything

— paige buys you guys matching clothes

— LIKE I SAID SHES VERRRYYYY AFFECTIONATE VERBALLY!!!!

- expect compliments every few minutes (every few seconds tbh)

— somehow she always ends up wearing lighter-colored clothes and you’re wearing something dark

— she’s also really attentive towards you

— paige really admires how well you can keep composure in literally any situation

— you’re definitely more introverted, not super talkative with ppl you don’t know

- paige is literally the exact opposite and tries to help bring you out of your shell

— she’s always saying how “mysterious” you are

— she can talk for hours and you’ll just listen

- that dynamic works really well for you two though, neither of you ever complain

— you both feel like you complete each other

- like she’s your other half and you’re hers

— you love giving her hickeys and she loves getting them

— at first it was kind of a struggle just because your personalities are so different

- but you both realized you brought the best out of each other and just need to communicate boundaries and wants

— she wouldn’t trade you for literally anything

— you’re sassy AF

— you actually lost her in the grocery store once cause she wouldn’t leave the tru fru aisle….

— “you look so edible right now i swear. please let me take a picture.”

- “edible paige, really?”

🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛

this is a cute trope!!

hope i did it justice 😜🩷😒🩷🩷

[bitchlessdino]

I have this in mind, maybe svt member x reader where they are classmates from college, they are close but not THAT close lol. Until one day they started talking about house prices and how the rent is so expensive, but still with the desire of living alone, so he (maybe hoshi or woozi) proposed that they should find a place together to split rent. It started as a joke, but then they found a really good place and decided to try to live together for at least one semester.

so yeah at first everything is great since both of them are always busy, so they dont really see each other that often around the house.

until it could be that they are sexually frustrated and start a friends with benefits relationship (but in secret, so their circle of friends dont know about it). However, reader always had a big crush on him, but never said anything. idk what else to say

Pairing: college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 5.9k tags: pwithplot, established friendship, roommate au, friends to fwb, pining, pervert!reader, pervert!soonyoung, mentions of alcohol, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, missionary, doggy, praise kink Summary: When it comes to the economy and needing a roof to live under, having a roommate is your best option, especially as any desperate college student. When arrangements are made with Soonyoung, a friend you admittedly have a visceral lust for, things take a turn one messy night. Making this arrangement more of an edible arrangement. author note: so i may have run wild since hoshi posted those thirst trap photos haha. im very proud of the header i made for this. this was something i planned on posting before my unprepared hiatus, and hopefully i'm still in spirits on continuing this. please anticipate more of me and remember that writers love interaction, criticism or not <333

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

“That’s funny, Soonyoung’s looking for a place too.”

You looked over at the man in question to see him mid-feast on a sandwich bigger than his face as it puffed his cheeks full like a common squirrel. “Why are you looking for a place? I thought you made plans with Seokmin?”

The man struggled to swallow down the larger-than-life bite, barely managing to do without scratching the back of his throat before answering. “His parents convinced him against it. I should’ve known he’d back out when he didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

“Do you know how to do your own laundry?”

“I know there are colors and whites, detergent and softener—I’d figure it out.”

“I’m hearing a no…”

“Youtube exists. How hard could it be? But yeah, I’m looking for a place.” He set his sandwich aside to lean in closer, washing down any remnants with a swig of his Jihoon’s stolen Coke Zero, who at the moment couldn’t be more distracted with Physics paper. “It’s not easy that’s for sure. A single bedroom is way too much on its own and anything bigger I can barely cover half of.”

“Here’s an idea,” Mingyu suggested like it wasn’t on his mind for the fifteen minutes you’ve been complaining about being essentially homeless, “Why don’t you guys figure something out together?”

“Really? Me and Soonyoung?”

Your counterpart couldn’t help the offense washing over his face. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know if you’d be a good roommate.”

“What makes you roommate of the year?”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each for what, a semester and a half, and I don’t know what your living habits are. I’ve basically lived alone all my life with my parents working all the time. How do I know you won’t push all the housework on me?”

Scoffing, his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “You’re looking at the flail youngest of two who did almost a decade of housework for a hundred dollar allowance for a week. I don’t waste Pinesol, I hand wash dishes, and I keep my 50 pairs of shoes neatly out of the doorway and in pristine condition.”

“You can do all that and not operate a washing machine?”

“The buttons and colors confuse me.”

“So,” Mingyu interrupted again, “How about it? Sounds like you guys a both a little desperate. The housing market isn’t getting any lower.”

“I guess you don’t sound all to bad to live with then,” You replied with a tinge of a tease.

“What do you bring to the table?” Soonyoung interjected.

“Discounts for food at my work, a Netflix account, a pack of scrub daddies, and a decent amount of disposable income for half an average month's rent and fun stuff if we ever get bored. Down?”

Soonyoung stroked his chin as if to think, but his head, the deal sounded as good as it can get. If he was being honest, he was desperate, but after the berating, he couldn’t let you know that. “Add in some salon-quality shampoos and conditioners and we have a deal.”

You groaned. “Fine, for a semester for now, but you’re getting laundry stuff and learning how to use the machines.”

You hadn’t expected to be apartment shopping with Soonyoung looking like a pair of newlyweds, but here you were doing exactly that. There wasn’t anything particular about him that bothered you, (except maybe the harboring attraction you had for him since freshman orientation that you blanketed over with over argumentative banter and an aloof attitude when he was around).

But as far as you knew, you were morning and night.  Sure, you’ve gotten along in social situations, but you knew how drastically different your lives were. When you aren’t working, you were a homebody and he’d bring bodies home. He lived differently than you did to put it plainly.

And perhaps the idea of waking up with him every morning possibly shirtless and/or naked frankly made you both terrified and aroused all at once.

The moment you shook his hand to agree, you were already feeling some regret, but hey, maybe that’ll actually do you some good. Maybe you’ll finally get over this school crush on this unattainably hot guy after seeing how disgusting he is leaving his underwear and socks in every corner of the place. It’s inevitable things can only go down from here, right? Right?

“A few ground rules should be in order.”

Soonyoung nodded, putting away the remainder of the edible arrangement gifted to you by your collective friends in the fridge. “Like what?”

“Chores should be switched off every week so we know how to handle all types at all times, but we do our own laundry. No exceptions. Dinner is a group effort. If we get takeout, always tell the other at least an hour in advance and costs are split. Groceries are bought biweekly with a set budget.”

“Strict, but ok. I’ll do my best to follow them. Anything else?”

You were reluctant to bring up this last one. You cleared you through, taking a second to properly form the words before letting them out. “If we have someone that we’re getting involved with, it’s either done at their place or in an empty apartment with plenty of notice.”

Soonyoung can’t help but bust out a wide and perfect grin, crossing his arms seeing the timid expression on your face. “Fine. I’ll make sure when I have sex with someone, it’s under those guidelines.”

“Ha, thanks,” You awkwardly respond, “I’ll abide the same.”

His eye narrowed at you dubiously. “Wait, you’ll actually get around?”

“Why are you doubting me?”

He chuckled, shrugging smooth broad shoulders through his black sleeveless tee. “You just don’t really seem about that. There’s nothing wrong with it, but—“

“You don’t know every detail of my intimate life so butt out.”

His arms rose up in defense, nodding along. “Alright, okay. If that’s all, I have a few rules of my own.”

“Okay. Have at it.”

He mused to himself for a few seconds. “Bathroom schedule: first come first serve.”

You nodded, easy enough.

“At a few hours of the day, the living room becomes an at-home gym when needed.”

Okay, that one had a little kick to it. “Alright.”

“And we have a safe word.”

You blinked back at him, heart pounding a little louder than it should, legs clenching as if they were being pried apart, and sweat burning the temple of your forehead with the unnecessarily dirty thoughts running through your mind. “A w-what?”

“A safe word,” he repeated as a matter of fact, “a word we can use when there’s conflict and something wrong and we just completely stop what we’re doing.” He grinned a little. “It’s not just for sex you know.”

You shoved him, earning his chuckle. “I know that, jerk. But fine, what do you suggest?”

“…Tiger.”

“How did I know that’s what you’d say?”

“Because we’re good friends.”

“How about ‘hamster’?”

He frowned. “No.”

“But look how effective that was.”

For the most part, things went smoothly. It helped that things got busy and tasks barely needed to get done with the exception of laundry. You saw each other more in your friend group gatherings than at home in your shared arrangement, and despite everyone knowing you live together, neither of you made it a point to make a big deal about it, even if everyone else does.

The countless times you had to fight Seokmin, Jeonghan, or Jihyo about the possibility of something developing between you and your new roommate romantically pained you with their inaccuracy. It seemed left and right that’s all everyone could talk about since it was arranged. It seemed as if there was nothing better up for discussion. Soonyoung dealt with it all the same, being constantly asked what kind of nefarious doings are being done behind closed doors that no one knows about. It always came as a disappointment when it was broken towards them that nothing was happening and that nothing ever will.

Even to you. Surprising enough.

If you learned anything from living with Soonyoung, it was harder than you expected it to be, especially with a still festering crush that is only developing into something almost tangibly heart-wrenching and stomach churning. It seemed to have taken a turn for the worse when Soonyoung started to take advantage of the home gym more due to the massive heatwave in town. 

The damn pull up bar.

You’ve only realized the time you’ve wasted after hearing the kettle whistle you put out apparently ten minutes ago. Your mind was too clouded by the flex of his biceps lifting his body in the air. Or the contracting and releasing of his shoulders that were lightly misted by perspiration. Or were too preoccupied with wanting to lick off the veins of the poor man’s lower abdomen. Or thinking about what those arms could do flinging you upside a—

“Oh, early class?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s a lot more traffic today, so I'm getting there earlier than usual.” 

His feet landed on the ground with a thud and he grabbed a towel to wipe over the sweat that was making his body glisten like glaze on a smooth buff donut. “I’m guessing you have no time for breakfast then?”

“Unfortunately,” you respond, quickly pouring your tea into your thermos before getting to your shoes, “I was gonna grab something at the Starbucks on campus after.”

“Here.” He tossed something from a box behind him and watched as you flimsily caught it from the front door.

“Oh.” A protein bar, a good one from your experience of raiding his side of the pantry. “Thanks.”

“And cancel all previous engagements. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

You squinted at him, “Why?”

“We’ll have something nice for once tonight,” he grinned, “be home at 8 tonight.”

Soonyoung’s plan for dinner was a free courtesy of Mingyu who found a nice little gig as a sous chef in a trendy place uptown. The whole circle celebrated together and you only got around to knowing after Soonyoung kept you updated on news knowing you’d be too busy to look at the giant groups chat you’re in. You should’ve been appreciative. That should’ve been your first instinct, not…entitlement. Not envious of him making eyes and flirting with the waitres. Not embarrassment for expecting something more from his brazen invite to dinner with you.

So, by then you’ve had a bit to drink. Okay, a lot to drink. Just enough to drink to have you stumbling on the center dance floor that garnered the attention of prying eyes. At that moment, nothing really mattered. You knew where lines lie, but lines eventually blur.

One second, you’re alone swaying to Britney Spears’ “toxic”, another second, Seungcheol’s crotch is up against your ass. It was a nice sentiment since you were definitely craving a bit of attention tonight, although you weren’t sure if you could look your friend in the eye again after that. Fortunately for you, it only got so far until a shapeless, but familiar, body pulled you away from the scene, forcibly putting you away in a bright yellow car. With your many failed protests, they managed to reach the footsteps of your building and finally reached for keys in their front pockets to open up your apartment.

“Hold still. Please…God, I am not sober enough for this.”

“Soonyoung….” You whined like a lost child.

He gripped you tighter by the arm to lock you in place, preventing you from falling. He was used to being taken care for and the grass was not greener on the other side. He has a lot of people he needs to apologize to. “Almost…okay, okay. I’m in. Go. Go shower and sober yourself up.”

You tugged him at the wrist, pulling him towards you. “Shower with me…”

He scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Go before I make you, and I really don’t wanna have to make you.”

“Fineee…”

Logic flew out the window tonight. Not paying it a second thought, you began stripping yourself of your clothes in the middle of the living room, from socks to immediately your shirt. Soonyoung’s eyes nearly shot out of his skull as he scrambled to cover you in your abandoned shirt before it almost hit the ground.

“Undress in the bathroom please.” Even in your intoxicated state, you could feel the tension of his muscles brush against your back, causing the heat to creep up on your skin.

You let yourself melt into him giggling, turning your head back to meet his cautious eyes. “Maybe you’d like to help with that.”

You can see the bit of shock in his eyes, fluttering back to something more composed once he internally reminded himself this was the ramblings of a drunk person. “You really don’t know what you're saying.” He then pushed you inside the restroom, holding the door by its knob, “Shower and brush your teeth. I’m not letting you out until I’m sure you’re done.”

“Soonyoung…”

“Please, just do it.”

Eventually, he finally convinced you to do as he asked and he hears the shower running, but a mere second later a thud follows. You busted out in a fit of pain, slipping on the already wet floor and immediately your roommate comes running in concerned. “What happened?”

He turned his head the second he processed your fallen body on the ground was bare naked. Shower water poured down on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and glistening your body like a wet dream. Your eyes lit up at him in a timid demure, barely covering your intimate parts with your arms and hands. He coughed dramatically, pinching himself to find restraint, and repeated his quarry of concern with avoidant eyes before you pointed out the obvious, “I fell.”

“Hold on to the rails, that’s what they’re for,” he groaned.

“Sorry.”

He sighed, slightly glancing. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head even when he wasn’t looking. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Good. Just be careful and tell me when you’re done.”

And you’re alone again.

You pulled yourself up from your pathetic state and then the warm water run through your features, letting out a loud sigh. You finished up the best you could, ridding yourself of a night full of grime. Grabbing a towel on the rack, you wrapped it around your damp nude before letting Soonyoung know from the other side of the door. He finally let you free from his handmade prison before watching you go scurry to your bedroom in a concoction of drunken embarrassment.

You muttered to yourself scoldings for letting something like that happen, clenching your legs together in bed the moment you hear his round of shower hit the tiles through the thin walls. A groan unexpectedly sounds off abundantly clear, and your shameless thoughts take action while he’s preoccupied. 

Still naked, you let the towel fall to the ground and you crawl under the sheets of your bed, not caring in the slightest about your hair getting your pillows wet. Your hands slowly trail down to your chest, ghosting over your skin until the pads of your fingers finally found what’s between your legs. You moaned at your self-discovery. Filming your fingers with your filthy arousal, a smile derived from self-indulgence shaped on your face. There you let your fingers slide between your folds and you shudder.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung couldn’t get your image out of his head. The glimpse alone was enough to make him think of you in compromising positions. Lips around his angry stiff cock, your tongue sliding against the veins of his shaft. He’d then hear the wet suction, the vibrations of your mouth humming around his skin, moaning his name like the perfect dessert you were. He groaned again to himself, pressing his length against his abdomen, not thinking you’d hear.

But you do. In fact, it’s so coherent, it makes you wet enough seep past your thighs, trailing down your legs. Your fingers plunged in you deeper while the palm of your hand rubbed against the shape of your clit. Your hips heave up from the mattress, pressing deeper into your palm as the image of Soonyoung’s face stayed a constant in your intoxicated head.

Soonyoung could hear your moans through it all, even if you didn’t think they did, and you only further fed his imagination. He braced against the wall behind him, thrusting into his fist with gritted teeth. The squeeze he had on his girth was merciless and all he had to rid of his overwhelming sin. In his head, you batted your pretty eyes back him, trailing your hands over his body, mouth gaping that looked ready to be filled one way or another. He threw his head back, whispering your name softly. “Oh, baby…you look so good swallowing my cock.”

You felt tears soak your eyes, swallowing a desperate breath.“Mmh, fuck…just like that please…”

“Gonna fuck your pretty pussy…” His thrusts roughly pulled himself at his base, clenching the life around it.

“You’re so deep, fuck, you feel so good—“

“You’re gonna make me cum—“

“Shit, I’m gonna cum—“

“Shit—“

“Shit—“

Simultaneously, you both were freed of your tension, a sudden release of breath escaping your lungs. The spilled cum fell at Soonyoung’s feet, melting in the heat of the water before it followed down the drain, while you fell slumped in bed in your own filth. You lazily reached out for your towel to clean the rest of the mess, tore away your dirty sheets, and settled into a tired slumber.

Soonyoung, overwashed with shame, hung his head down as he quietly cursed to himself. He shut off the shower head and reached for his towel. He finally concludes this evening, having taken a load off. There wasn’t much left on his mind that night, only teh thought of wanting it to be over.

The morning comes sooner than you realize and you find yourself at the mercy of a shirtless Soonyoung like most mornings, except this time he wasn’t doing pull-ups. Instead, he walked to you, a vigor to his stride and he decidedly met your eyes, while you were still focused on his body.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Soonyoung—“

“Should I just give you what you want? Should I fuck the shit out of you until all I can hear is my name?”

An answer was caught in the tightness of your throat when he lifted you off the ground and instinctively made you wrap your legs around his bare torso. The heat of his body is all you could focus on until he planted you flat on your kitchen counter, parting your legs to reveal the sudden bareness beneath your oversized t-shirt.

He licked his lip, tensing up his abdomen excitedly before he found home between your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his hair, crying out in soft breaths, and pulling his head back to meet his pretty eyes glossed over with lust. 

He mumbled into your skin, specifically one thing. And he said it over again and over again. Unable to make out what he says, you asked him to repeat it more clearly. It was then he rose up to the surface, a sticky sweet sheen of your arousal in his lips before he drew them close to your ear. His breath fanned your skin, shivers running down your spine, and finally what he says makes sense.

“Wake up.”

Your eyes ripped open like the ground beneath you should’ve. You ran a hand over your face, groaning at your own dismay. “What the actual fuck…”

It took a minute for you to pull yourself out of bed, groggy and with a raging headache to blow over throughout the day, only to be met with nearly an identical circumstance you met in your dream. Your roommate’s bare back stared back at you as brightly as the morning sun. You shrunk back at the reminder of your dream, walking on eggshells towards him to reach the fridge. “Morning.”

Soonyoung coughed on his water recognizing your presence, timidly greeting you back.

“Plans today?” You asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, classes in the afternoon.”

The silence couldn’t be more deafening.

“You.”

“Yeah, me too. Will be back at home at 9 after work.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

And soon you parted, embarrassed that encountered ever happened.

The rest of the day, there was much of seeing each other like most days, but this particular instance felt there was more of a reason to it. Even when it came around to your mutually available time at lunch, you made the extra effort not to run into him. How could you?

After making a pass on him and making the half-conscious decision of touching yourself to him while he was in the shower?

You’d be insane to go about things as if they were normal. They weren’t. 

When you came home that night, he was home like he always was, yet nowhere in sight. You knew he was home when you noticed his bike locked up where it normally was and shoes placed at the front of the door. You were tempted to call out his name but refrained when you reminded yourself you were yet ready for that confrontation yet.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter as  Soonyoung seemed to be already walking out of his room, shocked to see you actually home despite it being the time you said you’d be home by. “Hey…”

“Hey.” You let your stuff down before heading to the kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”

“Uh, yeah. I got pizza with a few Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Cool. I’m just gonna make myself something real quick.”

“Alright.”

“Did you need something?”

“Hmm?”

You pointed to his door. “You came out of your room.”

“Right,” he quickly scanned the floor before claiming nearly finished bottle of water on the couch's corner table. “W-water. I got thirsty.”

Obviously, it was an excuse, but you weren’t going to point it out with your lack of backbone. “Okay, well, I’m out here if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Before he retreated back to the room, a halt was squeezed out of your throat, catching him in his eager steps. He turned to you with unfocused eyes, hard swallowing in an attempt to calm himself down. “What is it?”

“I need to get this off my chest. Yesterday…I’m really sorry for everything yesterday.”

He sighed. That’s what all that was? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Also. Shit, um. I don’t know why I’m saying this because it's not like it matters. Well, it does a little bit. It could totally come off wr—“

“Hey,” he interrupted, “I doubt it’s as big a deal as your making it out to be, and I’m okay with not knowing.”

“But you should know actually.” You steadily approached him, letting out an exaggerated exhale. “Yesterday, you were showering and I don’t know what got over me. Well, I was drunk, so I guess there was that bit. Anyway, I heard you, you know, and I guess I—“

“Touched yourself when I was in the shower?”

You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. “Okay, we’re getting right into it, but yeah. It just felt weird not telling you, I just—“

“You knew I was masturbating?”

“Well, yeah? It was obvious if I’m being honest. Not the point. I invaded your privacy and indulged in it. I don’t know, maybe it’s been a while since…I just want to apologize.”

“For what, overhearing me whack myself off,” he took a step closer, eyes a lot like your dream meeting yours, “or for cumming to the thought of me?”

You breathed out through your nose. In and out. Your eyes for the life of you could not stay steady. “B-both?”

“If we’re being honest here, I should come clean too, shouldn’t I?”

Your hand steadied on the couch, almost letting the force of gravity pull you down along with your sanity, but tried maintaining eye contact as if that would change the dynamic even a little bit. “About what?”

Soonyoung finally found the humor in the situation to smile, one that caused the stagger in your step. “About how your face would come up when I touched myself in the shower.”

“Soonyoung—“

“You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you for doing the same thing I did. I don’t regret it because that was the best orgasm I’ve had in mon—“

You silenced his lips with your own, launching you into him until all you felt was the heat of his furnace of a body. His hands claimed the small of your back before pressing your curves into his hollows. He received your lips feverishly, moving against you as if in heated debate, and crashed your body into the furniture closest to you. 

“Didn’t know you were this eager,” he mumbled, “you should've told me.”

Your hand gripped his hair, your teeth taking his bottom lip between and pulling, emitting illicit whines that filled your stomach with warmth. Your leg propped to his side, embracing him hungrily there wasn’t even space to breathe. His hips knocked back into you, his bulge grinding against your clothed heat as he arched you over the back of the couch.

“You’re a bit mean. I like that.” He giggled.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“May I remind you, you kissed me.”

“And I can back out right this second.”

“Oh, but we can’t have that,” he utilized his upper strength to lift you off the ground looped tightly around his torso, a gasp leaving your lips. You reunite with his eyes that are now leveled with yours. You’ve looked into them before but it shocked you with how dark they are, how earnest they look. “You see it, don't you? How much I want you? I see it in your eyes too.”

“T-this a tactic you use on all people you sleep with?”

He shook his head. “Just you, and only because I really want you.”

Your hand planted against his cheek, the curve of your palm hugging his jaw. His breath hitches from the mere tenderness in your eyes. His body has ever only told him he wanted you carnally and raw, but that gaze. If he could just bottle that gaze and show off like a trophy.

Your hand crawled over to the nape of his neck, there your digits ran up his hair, pushing him innately close to you, and you whispered cautiously, “We can never tell the others.”

“I’ll take this to my grave if it’s what you want.”

You nodded. “Good boy.”

He transported you to his room, dropping you on his mattress with him to follow. Your lips stay glued together a perfect mold, tongue clashing in a union that you’ve only even dreamt of having. Soonyoung only briefly pulled away to reveal his torso. He was firm, flushed to the touch, and heaving under the heat of your palm.

You gasped as he pressed his body against your touch, smiling against your skin as he asked if you liked what you were seeing. All you could do was nod, somehow lost in the trance that you never wanted to escape. His mouth took your neck, roaming starved as his hands undressed you down to your underwear.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He slipped you out from your sleeves and made skin contact. Chest to chest, waist to waist, hips to hips. You sense his want through touch alone and for once being wrong felt so incredibly right. What a relief to know, he felt what you did. “I never wanted someone this badly before.”

“Soonyoung…”

He nipped your neck, teeth scratching against your skin. “You say my name like that, I’ll have no choice but to ruin you. Be careful around me. Or don’t. I’d show you a good time either way.”

“You’re—mmp—such a…ah—s-sweet talker.” You could hardly talk back. He made love to your skin as if he’d done it before, touching every pressure of your body like a skilled lover, both attentively yet without remorse.

“I’m only saying what I’ve been thinking. Like how desperate I am to feel myself between your thighs.” He tugged down your underwear to your feet and let the fall to the ground, allowing your legs to hook around him. “Or how your lips taste like caramel coffee, the candy you eat every time you need a ‘pick me up.’”

“You pay attention to that?” You asked, fiddling over the button of his pants.

“I don’t make an effort to, I just do.” He found your hands, aiding you in your efforts, soon you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He held your gaze still, guiding your hand over his hard cock, taking from the base up to the shaft. You swallowed memorizing his shape, his length, his weight. There was so much you wanted to be able to share with this part of him alone. “Now it’s your turn to pay attention to me.”

Your lips stretched over your cheeks. “What makes you think I don’t?” 

You trace over something particular with your other hand, something that bulges at you even with his pants on. You lifted yourself to sit up, folding your calves behind your thighs. Stroking his length with one hand, you admire your veins leading down his lap with the other. “I’ll have you know, my patience is admirable. It took a lot within me to blatantly ignore these pretty veins you have on your stomach.”

“Someone’s never called them that before,” he chuckled, “no one’s even acknowledged them before.”

“I guess no one’s been privileged enough to see them as often as I do. Lucky me.” You thumbed over the blue, scrapping over its stroke as you lowered your head and your lips wrapped around the head. You covered his underside, tugging  your lips around him, and watching his jaw drop lower when you began covering more of his length.

“I’m the lucky one,” he acknowledged, his hand dropping to the crown of your head before caressing the length of your hair. “You should see how good you look sucking my dick right now. I’m never gonna see this image without wanting to cum on the spot.”

You steadied yourself at his hips, tongue gliding over the underside, and you hugged your cheeks tighter around his girth. Eyes fluttered back at him, and you wretched to take more of him, already felt him hit the back of your throat. When you heard him moan, it fed you more encouragement, giving your best efforts to fit all of him. You coughed at the tightness in your throat but remained resilient. The vicious substance of your saliva coated him from tip to base as your hand stroked him repeatedly, pushing him deeper into you until your vision grew weary. 

Soonyoung told you to take it slow, stroking the back of your head with a gentle hand. You inhaled him for as long as you could, the sounds of your efforts growing dim the deeper he made it past your mouth. Ultimately, tears ran down your cheeks, oxygen cut from your airways, and you felt no choice but to pull him out, resting his cock between your fingertips as you gasped for breath.

That breath was quickly stolen when Soonyoung dived in to claim it, his body caging yours. His weight against yours was comforting, enticing, addicting. He moaned your name sweetly like a song, and it filled your stomach with embers of desire. “You’re so hot…I’d make you do that again if I wasn’t worried about killing you.”

You pathetically scoffed in an attempt to cover up discomfort. “That? Pff, I’m fine.”

He grinned, kissing you long and deep. “You’re so cute when you lie. I’ll make sure to return the favor now.”

Pulling at your thighs, he dragged them towards him, barely touched your eager heat, and his twitch urging you to pull him close. He leaned over somewhere behind you to tear open a condom, rolling it over himself. As he drew closer, so did you, feeling the inviting head of his cock glide over your wet cunt, you trembled in thought. Soonyoung, just—

“Put it in me.”

“Now, now. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled cheekily.

“Soonyoung,” You whined.

Your impatience is rewarded when he plunged himself in slowly, but completely, embracing the stretch of your walls as he filled you out. “So…needy...”

His initial thrust is deep, strong, and then he landed another, quickly adjusting to the plush of your pussy. You held your thighs back to your chest, and spread your legs wide for him. Your pretty lips weren’t shy with praising him, asking him for more of his pretty cock, and earning just as you ask. “You’re mind-numbing, shit…what a good fucking pussy…”

“Your cock’s so g-good in me…you feel so good inside me, Soonyoung…”

“Fuck, say my name like that again.”

He flipped you on your stomach, pressing his fingers into your as he found his pace from behind you, ramming into you until your cunt has tasted every inch of his cock. You gasped as his hand maneuvered you to push back against him, like a toy to be played with he used every bit of you, your energy, your sexuality, and he embraced it. You felt amazing. 

“Soonyoung, I’m—ah—I’m gonna cum.”

“You’re gonna cum around my cock? Hmm? Is that it? My cock fucking you that good?”

You bit into your lips nodding, the urge to respond before the wave of arousal crashed into you. You were clenching your stomach as his name came in tidal waves, grinding towards him to prologue the high. Loudly, you cursed, balling the sheets underneath you into fists. 

Soonyoung nodded proudly, the shaky view of your body trembling beneath him fuels his ego and it’s not long before he orgasms, filling the condom until it nearly burst. He pulled out of you finally, quickly discarding the trash before he joined you in bed, hugging your fatigued body to his side and there was silence. Only silence.

And breathing. Mainly Soonyoung’s. And that went on for a good fifteen minutes until someone spoke again.

“I’m glad I waited for that.”

You looked up at your roommate curiously, the smile on his face felt warmer every time you saw it. “What was that?”

He met your gaze, hand softly moving over your hair. “I feel like I’ve gotten closer to you. I always wanted that.”

“Really?”

He nodded, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Who knew sex would make us closer friends?”

Your body ran cold, in the distance you could hear the shattering of glass far off from reality. You stayed frozen under his touch as he embraced you closer to his naked body, hooking his chin over your neck. “We should do this again. I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.”

That’s what you were scared of. Getting used to this. To this arrangement. To the sensation of his cock inside you. To the sense that it’d never be more than you hoped it would be. You’d never have Soonyoung be yours, but you knew somehow you’d always be his.

[literaila]

stress baking

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you bake a cake and satoru tries to distract you

warnings: mom guilt (angst), fluff, satoru, etc.

last part | next part

*

year five.

“ooo,” satoru reaches a hand across the counter, fingers about to contaminate everything in the kitchen. “frosting.” 

you're slouching against the oven, trying to pretend like the cakes have been cooling long enough to frost when he comes in. 

and you know immediately that you've been caught. satoru can read your mind with a mere glance most days, and so you try to avoid his eyes. because really--you don't need (or want) his input about this

you slap his hand away, turning away from the cakes. “don’t touch,” you tell him, glaring. “i don’t know where your hands have been.” 

satoru grins at you, leaning against the counter so he can observe your corrupted workspace. “i can assure you that you do.” 

you roll your eyes, flipping a cake pan over. it shouldn't take too much longer, really. just a couple... hours. 

“what is this? did i forget about a birthday?” he looks up suddenly, startled. “was it yours?” 

you scoff, moving every edible thing away from his reach, and still don't look up at him. but you can still feel every moment he makes, like a secret intuition. 

as if knowing this, satoru smiles, leaning his elbows against the counter, face in hands, just watching you. “nah, i wouldn’t forget that.” 

“hmm, when’s my birthday again?” 

“it’s… uhhh a day. once a year," you make a face, scrunching your nose away from him, and he resolves. “the best day of the year?” 

you ignore him--and your stupid instinct to look at his face, in his eyes, and observe every expression he makes--wishing that cakes were sturdier. it's late enough that you already know this is going to be a disaster. can you make cement appetizing? 

“no, really,” satoru waves a hand in your face. “what is this?” 

“it’s a cake.” 

“for what?” 

“tsumiki.” 

he raises a brow, tapping on your forehead to get you to pay attention to him. “is it her birthday?” 

“no, you deadbeat dad, her birthdays in may.” 

“right.” 

you roll your eyes again, cutting the top off of the cake. still, you try to keep your eyes concealed from him. your entire being--even though you're well aware that it's futile. 

satoru can feel it when you cut yourself shaving in the shower, so it's likely that he already knows what you're doing. 

and exactly why you're doing it. 

but, you can play chicken with him for hours. you're very used to pretending like he doesn't know what you know that he knows. very very good. 

“sooo..." satoru drawls, voice bright and smiley. like the demon he is. "what’s it for?” 

you sigh, wanting to throw the excess cake at him. “can you use some critical thinking skills? just once, please?” 

“why would i do that when you could just tell me?” 

unforunately, the two of you both know that he's not going to leave without an answer. he's purposefully using your greatest weakness--his face, your heart, your irritating want to tell him every thought that crosses your mind--against you. 

but who's fault is that if not your own?

“she’s worried about a test tomorrow,” you say, slowly, finally turning to look at him, trying not to wince. “so i’m making her a cake.” 

satoru is already grinning, hand partially covering his mouth. you glare at his terrible attempts not to laugh at you. 

at least his eyes are pretty. his cheeky eyebrows and stupid knowing look. without the view, you know, satoru would mean absolutely nothing to you (and everything, of course).

“will it give her superpowers?” 

“shut up, gojo, what are you doing to help?” 

“not worrying about it," he answers easily, "tsumiki’s a genius, she doesn’t need your anxiety too.” 

“i’m not anxious.” 

he smiles at you, tilting his head. 

you crack, trying not to squeeze the offset spatula in your hand. “whatever. last time she got in a fight with akio you tried to buy her a kitten. i’m not taking your criticism," you look away from him, frowning. but before he can say anything, you add. "or your advice."

“the kitten wasn’t just for her,” he says, whining. “it was an addition.” 

“an addition i was going to take care of.” 

“tsumiki wouldn’t have to worry about a test if she had a soft, cute, cuddly little baby kitten to cuddle with.” 

you refrain a smile. “that’s redundant.” 

“you changed the trajectory of her life by telling me no. she'll probably go to prison now," satoru sighs, shaking his head at you. 

“yup. it’s all my fault.” 

he laughs, reaching a long arm over you to try and steal some frosting again, but you grab his wrist and push it away. he frowns, but asks, “are you going to let her eat this for breakfast?” 

you pause, looking back at him (he's already smirking because you've had that conversation a dozen times) then you look back at the cake you’re currently mutilating. “um…” 

satoru shakes his head. “so she doesn’t even get to have any until after the test? what's the point in that?" 

"the point," you say, glaring at him. "is that it's nice. i want to do something for her." 

"bake a cake?" 

"shut up." 

he laughs again. "you're such a nerd." 

"you can leave now." 

"what'd she say?" satoru asks, smiling up at you, brow perked. "'i have a test tomorrow?'" 

you huff, waving him away. "fine, no cake for you." 

"tsumiki probably didn't even tell you," he continues, cockily. "you probably read it in an email and immediately turned on the oven." 

"you are not helping." 

satoru snorts at you one more time, and then he stretches as he straightens up. 

your eyes dart towards him--and the sliver of skin you can see peaking out from under his shirt, very attuned muscles--and then away. you're not being caught again. 

but satoru is already smirking at you as he rounds the counter, hands traveling to your waist automatically, squeezing you to him--in a very uncomfortable position, by the way. 

he nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing obnoxiously. 

"satoru, i'm busy," you say, trying to sneak out of his hold. unfortunately, he's way stronger than you are.

your hands have been blocked by his hold, and you set down the spatula, forced to bend to the will of this very irritating co-parent of yours.

"you're so cute," he says, cooing into your head.

"i'll pour oil in your hair." 

he laughs, again. "then you'll have to take a shower with me." 

you push him away, finally, scowling. he only moves back a couple of inches. "not happening." 

"you realize that you're crazy, right?" satoru asks, still smiling, but a bit differently. it's less arrogant and more adoring. like he's completely star-struck, lost in the entirety of you. "this isn't news to you?" 

"i'm not crazy. i'm being nice." 

he continues to smile at you, ignoring your carefully pointed scowls and the harsh way to continue to frost the cake. "tsumiki will be fine. even if she fails her test, or gets sick, or..." he shakes his head, shrugging. "pulls the fire alarm so she doesn't have to take it." 

"i hope you're not encouraging the children to fake an emergency." 

"she's the smartest kid in that class, sweetheart, she'll do fine. and would it really matter if she didn't?" 

you pause, biting your lip. no, it wouldn't matter, you should say. you should just tell him the increasingly worrisome thoughts that have been collecting in your head the past couple of weeks. you should've just helped her study more or made sure that she was feeling comfortable, or double-checked on her grades another time, or--

"well, she can have her cake as a reward," you say, instead, ignoring that last bit. 

you both already know the answer anyway. 

satoru is quick to wrap an arm around your shoulder, gentler this time, pulling your head to his chest with an impenetrable hold. "what's this really about?" 

"nothing." 

satoru's lips twitch, and it's silent for a moment, your disheartening 'nothing' ringing through the kitchen. 

he's so stupid. and you hate that he knows what's wrong already, but that he's gonna make you say it. and you hate that it's sweet, in its own, very annoying way.

and then you break.

you sigh, a grumble coming from the back of your throat. "i just think i've been too worried about megumi lately. i mean school and missions and..." 

satoru raises a brow at you. "okay?" 

"and then there's you, too," you add, giving him a look. but it's dropped very quickly, as you look down to the floor. "do you think i've been paying enough attention to tsumiki?" you ask, softly. 

tsumiki has always been good at taking care of herself, that much was obvious when you met her--when satoru told you what the two kids had been doing for months, all on their own. 

but you don't want her to have to take care of herself. or feel like she should, just to make it easier on you both. 

she's far too people-pleasing, far too sweet to tell either of you if you're missing something. she could have a broken arm and walk around like nothing was wrong until you finally asked. 

you swallow, then continue. "you and megumi are important, but i don't want her to feel ignored just because i've been preoccupied." 

"wow. i'm just a distraction to you?" satoru asks, pouting. 

"you know what i mean," you whisper, shrugging. 

really, you know these are just venomous thoughts. trying to hit you where it hurts. 

but there's that part of you that isn't sure. if you're usually wrong, why shouldn't you be right this one time?

"you pick them both up every day, feed them, put them to bed, help with their homework..." satoru shrugs, never seeing the things that you do; stronger than you'll ever be. "how could she feel ignored?" 

"well, i've been spending more time with megumi trying to figure out his shikigami. and you and i have been going over those books, and tsumiki can't be a part of any of that so she probably feels left out, and i haven't been doing anything with her anyway--" 

"woah," satoru interrupts, a brow raised. "what's wrong with you?" 

you glare, trying to push him away to no avail. "get out, satoru. i need to finish this." 

"no, i'm serious." he holds a hand to your forehead. "are you sick? did you hit your head on something?" both of his hands grab onto your face, squeezing your cheeks together. 

"stop," you say, muffled from his pinching. 

"you're so..." satoru shakes his head, every word going unsaid. "she doesn't feel ignored. she couldn't, because you're very clingy." 

"not as clingy as you." 

satoru laughs, pinching a bit harder in retaliation. "okay, so there's two of us. at this point, tsumiki is probably looking for other families to go live with." 

"she wouldn't leave megumi." 

his grin widens. his eyes are thoughtful, careful. "you spend time with her every day. you probably know more about her schedule than she does. megumi is..." satoru tilts his head. "difficult, and a priority. but tsumiki knows she is too." 

"i just don't want her to feel lonely. or unimportant," you whisper to him, eyes darting down to his chest. 

you know that it's a natural reaction, to want more for your kids. to want to protect them from your own feelings, however different the situations might be. 

when satoru tells you that tsumiki reminds him of you there's that scared, cowardly little girl who recoils in response, flinching away from that idea. you never want her to feel like you do, to be like that little girl. 

but unless you can erase history, you're not sure that it's possible.

satoru's eyes soften, looking at you. he breathes out, letting go of your face finally. then he leans down so his forehead rests against yours, shaking his head. "you're the most ridiculous person i know." 

your eyes are forced upon his and you finally crack a smile. "have you met yourself?" 

"megumi spends more time with us because he doesn't have any friends," satoru tells you, ignoring your glare at the statement. "tsumiki's just cooler than him." 

"i'm gonna let him hide your blindfolds." 

satoru rolls his eyes, but he shakes his head again. he's just staring at you, so you know that he's not going to entertain your pity party any longer. 

at least he knows that there's no point in arguing when you're not going to listen to reason.

you nod, looking away from him, back to the counter of destruction. "okay, i'll just finish this for her. i already started, so i might as well--" 

"finish it in the morning," satoru says, finger forcing your face back to his.

"not how that works, satoru." 

"put everything away, and finish in the morning," he repeats, trying ridiculously hard to sound stern--but it's almost impossible with the smile that leeches onto his face. "she can have some after school." 

"but i just want--" 

satoru shakes his head, shaking your jaw with his hand. "you're tired. go to bed." 

you cross your arms. "since when i have i ever done anything you said?" 

"since i said so," satoru answers, as a finality. 

and then he lets go of your face and wraps his arms around your waist, getting a secure hold so he can pick you up, hoisting you across his shoulder before he can say anything. 

it's about as gently as satoru does anything, but still surprisingly comfortable.

you squirm against him, though, ignoring that thought, making sure not to squeal at the sudden feeling of being swept off your feet. the children are asleep. "put me down,” you hiss at him.

"nope. it's bedtime." 

"satoru gojo, i swear--" 

he just laughs, removing you both from the kitchen and continuing down the hall. 

but instead of stopping at your door and depositing you in your bed--probably finding a key to lock you in with--he continues to his own room, opening and door and spinning around so he can shut it softly. 

you don't have the time to question his motives or meanings before you're already trapped in the enclosed space with him, with none of the willpower to argue with him. 

your room is cold anyway. 

satoru walks you both over to the bed, laying you down in his usual spot, head against the pillow (he ignores the glare you have pointed up at him). 

he shrugs off the sweater he's wearing, throwing it somewhere behind him like the teenage boy he is, and then lays down. 

right on top of you, of course. 

his body is sprawled across yours, your shoulder digging into his chest. but his arms are on either side of you as he holds himself up so that he can continue to look at you. 

he has boxed you in completely. and just his eyes on yours keep you from any viable means of escape. 

you breathe in his face and frown. "i hate you." 

"shhh," satoru is grinning, his face bright enough to be seen in the dark. "we're sleeping. can't hear you." 

"you're heavy, satoru," you complain, pushing at his chest with an ounce of strength. it doesn't work because you don't want it to. 

satoru pretends to snore, but he's still several inches above you. his face is close enough that you can see little scars, and the flecks of white in his eyes. he's looking at every part of your face, every single inch of your being. 

your eyes should focus on his, but you're used to this. so, after a moment, they trail across his face, to the bridge of his nose, and down to the swell of his lips. 

there's light coming in from his window, the moon flattering satoru completely (not that he needs any help). 

and, right now, as he keeps himself just above you, satoru's smile is gentler than ever. 

it lacks the bravado, the carelessness he usually exudes. but it's full of something else, probably something more. 

and you're the only person that gets this smile. the slightly drowsy, completely sure one. 

so you keep your eyes on it for a moment too long, but it's really not your fault at all. 

you could just kiss him and fall asleep.

he's looking at you like that's what he wants you to do, and you know that you're probably looking at him the same way. a simple kiss and the two of you would pass out, unbothered by the aches you'll wake up to, or the body weight that could suffocate you.

but you've never made things that easy. 

when satoru leans down, his entire back tensing, muscles probably straining from staring at you for this long, you sigh. 

satoru pauses, moving back a centimeter, checking your eyes for something--his are bathed in temptation, basking in desire, and you're sure that yours are just an echo of all of that. 

but it's the perfect opportunity. 

he leans in again, but you interrupt. 

"i still need to put everything away," you whisper to him, cheek twitching. 

satoru groans and his head falls against your shoulder. 

you tangle your hands through his hair and giggle into his ear until you can feel the goosebumps across the skin of his biceps. 

*

"so, tsumiki, how'd your test go?" 

you glare at satoru, trying not to look at how tsumiki reacts. you've decided that you don't care. 

tsumiki is always happy, satoru told you this morning, she might be on drugs. 

and, well, you couldn't quite disagree with him (the first part, not the second. he got a smack for that).

she nods, forking her piece of cake again. "good," she answers, through the bite that's already in her mouth. 

"was it a hard one?" 

"nope!" 

satoru gives you a look. a very familiar 'i told you so' look. 

you roll your eyes, giving megumi a piece of cake which he takes begrudgingly. 

"shut up," you tell him.

*

next part | series masterlist

[merakiui]

jade is absolutely getting off to the thought of drugging you up with mushrooms and then using them to fuck you

Oh, most definitely. 😌

“You’re an ash-hole,” is the first thing to tumble out of your mouth. The insult isn’t nearly as biting as you’d hoped it would be, for the slurred way in which you pronounce the expletive dulls its sharpness tenfold. It does earn you a quirk of the mouth from Jade. The exact opposite of what you wanted.

You’re sweating out of your skin, body temperature rocket-high. It almost rivals the stifling humidity of the off-campus woods, which you think might be your resting place if whatever shit Jade spiked your salad with stops your heart. Pre-hike salad, your foot!

He’s found a comfortable clearing, the lush grass more inviting than the cool breeze tickling your cheek. It feels like the wind has a dozen tiny tongues and they’re all lapping at your face. With a shiver, you smack Jade’s arm away when he offers to ease you down. The world is breathing beneath you. The tree trunk you prop yourself against has a heartbeat, and you watch the lines in the bark undulate like saltwater waves.

“As a member of the Mountain Lovers’ Club,” Jade says, lowering to his knees in front of you, his backpack now shrugged off. When you blink, he’s right in front of you next, checking to make sure you’re still lucid. Mostly. “You must be able to discern dangerous flora from the safe ones. The mushrooms mixed in with your salad have hallucinogenic properties. In small amounts, they’re fine. Quite the exciting trip, one might say. But there are some species that have hazardous effects…”

You squeeze your eyes shut again and inhale a shuddering breath. There are spiders beneath your eyelids and in your skin. It prickles. You move to slap nothing off your arm and find that, in the seconds or maybe minutes your world has been turned over, your shorts have been shucked down to your ankles. Jade’s spidery digits creep in close, parting your legs, sliding along your hole through the fabric. You’d kick him if your body wasn’t so keen on melting like candle wax. All you can do is wilt and take in big gulps of air as he presses in, fingers curling beneath your underwear, prodding inside such a private, sensitive place. You’re not sure how much time passes. You swim in and out of consciousness, occasionally snapping back to yourself like a boomerang.

When you come to, it’s with a keening cry and he hums, sounding quite pleased. You’re not sure how or when it happened, but you came around his fingers. The embarrassment doesn’t settle for long, not when your skeleton is jittering in its fleshy confines. You think you might be sick. Something is crawling up your throat. Hands? Vomit? It feels weird. Just what was in that salad? What terrible mushroom did he experiment with this time?

And that’s just it. Everything he does is experimental. Never on himself. You’d quite like that—to give him a literal taste of his own medicine and watch him crumple. What a glorious day that would be.

Like a surgeon, Jade slips a pair of latex gloves on. For a horrified moment, you wonder if he really is going to bury you out here. But instead he procures a particularly sizable mushroom from a plastic bag. It looks familiar, but right now there are a dozen names rushing through your mind and none of them can be correct. You watch with even more horror as he tears a little square package open and slides the condom over the mushroom’s stipe, all business. Perfectly clinical.

“Today, we’re going to learn to identify mushrooms and their uses.” He beams. “Starting with this one.”

“I…” Your tongue feels all wrong. Numb. Too long. And then too short. You try to pronounce your next words, but they come out in a messy splutter.

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s edible.” Jade smiles angelically.

Gee, thanks for the help. That narrows it down by a lot, you think, sarcastic.

“Maybe this will jog your memory,” he adds, and when you blink the stipe is pushing against your puckered hole. His fingers are wrapped gently around the cap of the mushroom, holding it steady.

“Wha…” You attempt to crawl back from him, but the tree holds you firm. “Jade—”

“It’s a very popular ingredient in soups and risotto,” he continues, undeterred in his approach.

You dig your fingers into the ground and rip up clumps of grass. It feels wrong. Intrusive. This strange, foreign thing. You squirm weakly, but it doesn’t shake him off.

Dunno, you think, your mouth moving mutely.

“It’s part of the genus Boletus.”

Oh, you hate him something fierce. This smart-ass eel. As if you’d know the scientific name or the genus and whatever-heenus-gleenus. You’ll kill him.

Not really. Because who could kill Jade Leech? Not you.

But the feeling comes something close to death as you imagine yourself weaponizing the blazing sun in your scowl and burning a hole through him like he’s an ant under a magnifying glass. Instead, your expression falls and you give a short, sweet whine. The mushroom presses in shallowly. Jade watches with a delight that can only be described as exhilaration. His smile is preternatural.

It turns out it’s a penny bun. Boletus edulis. He tells you that halfway into working the thick mushroom in and out of you.

“I’m sure you’ll have better luck with the next one,” he assures, and then you see it. The many mushrooms packed neatly away in his backpack, each one packaged in that chilling, serial-killer-like precision only Jade Leech could have.

[the-universal-sun]

Okay first of all I love your first post was bonding to my ask but also I was wondering could I get some head cannons on Ford being the twins caregiver( the baby twins Dipper and Mabel)

@pinkyshy10 i want to make sure I get the notification that's why I'm tacking myself

Thank you for your ask, of course you can get some hc of Ford being Dipper and Mabel’s caregiver! I loved writing this request so much! The babies! ! I did talk about Stanley helping some, but this is all Ford caregiving for the twins! The three of them are such cuties!!! I hope it lives up to your expectations! I’m so sorry it’s so late, I’ve got a back log but I’m working through them! Please stay nice and warm this week!

I’ll tag you here so you can see it too, just in case: @pinkyshy10

As always, I’m always open for helpful comments and critiques!

Sending you all the loce in the world!

-_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-

-Ford never expected to be a caregiver to two small children, nonetheless children that regress, but he takes it in stride. He loves his niblings and would do anything for them, so of course he’s more than willing to watch over and care for them, letting the two of them crawl into his bed when they have a nightmare or two

-He’ll ease them back to sleep with the more happy tales from his time dimension hopping, telling them how cute they looked in that baby dimension. He’ll pat their backs and brush their hair-trying to remember how it was his mother and then Stanley consoled him. They snuggle on his chest and pass out near instantaneously once he gets them settled

-He did feel overwhelmed at first, but he has Stanley to support him and calm him down. It helps that the twins don’t always regress together, though it’s more often than not

-Ford would be a less stern caregiver for the twins than Stanley would be. Surprising everyone, but this is the man who gave a 12 year old a crossbow

-He’s stricter with what they eat and when they sleep, but for everything in between Ford has more of a “all long as nobody gets seriously injured” mindset

-They need nap time and semi-nutritious food. Nap time isn’t hard, but it’s not easy. The twins, energetic on the regular, are hyperactive when they regress, if they could bounce off the walls, Ford bets they would. To get them to take a nap, he’ll try to tire them out but chasing them, but when that doesn’t always work, he’ll wrap them up tightly in a big blanket, lay them down with some pillows in the floor, turn down the lights, and either play a really boring black and white that would him to sleep or roughly hum an old lullaby he picked up from someone, scratching their heads to lull them to sleep

-He uses their nap time to get some alone time, decompress and to breathe from all the energy he had been surrounded with, Stanley looking over the twins to give him brother a break

-Food is…another issue. Ford can make a mean sandwich and pour juice and milk, he can put fruits and veggies on a tray with some cheese or dipping sauce, but he cannot cook. Not well and not palatable enough for two regressed tweens, if they want edible Mac and cheese or pancakes, it’s either they don’t get any and Ford’s at the wrong end of sad puppy dog eyes, or he’s asking Stanley to make them

-He won’t let them eat Greasy’s when he’s caring for them, he thinks it’s too unhealthy for such young children (and he had such a bad experience there he never wants to go back)

-It took some getting used to, caring for Dipper and Mabel when they regress, but he does have help in the form of Stanley, who’ll act as a babysitter if Ford needs to have his attention elsewhere for a moment or two. Ford also learned the basics of caring for children from Stan, though he has to modify it to fit in with the twins’ smaller ages

-It surprised him to find out that Little Dipper (so Ford’s nickname for him now) is more talkative than a Little Mabel. She does talk, but she’s quieter, more content to observe, unless you bring up a topic she’s super interested in. Dipper, however will go on and on about anything and everything. He is a “but why” little, which, Ford loves how inquisitive Dipper is, always wanting to know more, but at the same time, when he’s been asked “but why not?” 10 times in a row, he needs to steer the conversation to something else

-He tries to set individual little time with the twins so he can engage with them one-on-one, it’s in these cases that Stan will watch the other twin. He does arts and crafts and tea parties with Mabel, sometimes putting together Lego sets if it’s one she seems interested in. Sometimes they’ll just cuddle and watch a movie if that’s what she wants. He very much likes gossiping with her stuffed animals at the tea parties, spreading the most juicy inter-dimensional rumors.

-With Dipper, they’ll do puzzles, put together legos, and paint. Dipper loves finger painting when he’s feeling small, Ford doesn’t mind that he gets everything messy even with a smock on, his boy doesn’t look anxious or tired, his eyes bright and lacking their usual bags. If he starts asking too many questions, Ford may sometimes turn on a kid friendly documentary to keep him distracted

-Dipper and Mabel both love it when Ford reads to them, he gets so into the characters and get super dramatic, making them laugh and squeal behind their pacifiers

-They both have pacifiers, Dipper because he keeps chewing on his shirts, Mabel because she wanted to be like him, but actually really liked how soothing it is

-Dipper’s nickname is the Little Dipper and Mabel is Ford’s Meteorite. He thinks the names are cute, no matter how much Stanley may tease him about it

-No Mabel Juice when they’re little. Never again.

-Even when regressed, these two love to chase mysteries and go exploring, getting into as much mischief as possible with Ford’s eyes on them. He does allow them to go on adventures in Gravity Falls with him, but only if they’re kiddie friendly and he has to keep an eye on them at all times (Stanley’s rules). He only goes about 50 feet into the forest, which is plenty fun for them, they love running around and picking up every shiny rock and cool stick they find, sometimes wondering off too far if something catches their eye.

-Ford almost had a heart attack when he couldn’t find Dipper one day, looking everywhere, while holding Mabel in his arms, only to find him further in the trees arguing with a gnome

-The twins now have backpack leashes for when they leave the shack while regressed. It’s safer for them and makes it less liable that their Grunkle’s have a heart attack

-Ford loves his niblings, he doesn’t mind caring for them whatever their headspace may be. They’re both such caring and lovable individuals, it brings a pleasant ache in his chest to know that they care for him, trust him so much, that they allow themselves to be vulnerable like this around him. He loves his little family so much

[nevertheless-moving]

End of The Rope: MDZS AU #8

mdzs au where the junior quartet accidentally activate a rouge cultivator's array and send themselves back in time — post-sunshot, pre-Yiling Patriarch era.

Naturally they seek out Wei Wuxian, the only person they know who might be able to undo the absurdly complex thing.

plot device sidebar: there's a massive yao carcass in the middle of the array — clearly the power source is death based. The four start taking sketches (Mostly Jingyi). Jin Ling swats at a fly, killing it. Eventual cultivation math reveals that the design was ridiculously overpowered. The inventor probably sent himself to the Neolithic era. Hopefully that's — hopefully that's what he was going for because, yeah, this was not designed for round trips. More plot from that later.

Wei Wuxian, currently drinking and pretending that he's avoiding helping with Lotus Pier's reconstruction out of arrogance instead of inability is deeply amused to receive a visit from four miscellaneous cultivators — who he should probably recognize, right? they're the same age as him, wouldn't they have fought in the campaign? I mean his memory is bad but, no his memory is probably bad enough to completely forget these guys. Whatever.

Alright so two Lans, a Jin, and some other sect (Nice guan — sect heir, maybe?) cultivators are here for his help with something important and private that only he can do (weird, but not completely unimaginable. Something too dark for upstanding cultivator's hands?). They really should go to Jiang Cheng for requests, but, eh. He'll hear them out.

They did , in fact, first seek audience with the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader for just that reason. They were greeted by the sect leader's sister and, well. No one had the heart to make fun of Jin Ling for stammering briefly, then turning and running away. They figured they could probably find Wei Wuxian somewhere that sells wine. It didn't take very long.

Here's the thing, Wei Wuxian thinks, staring at the four once they are assured of the room's privacy.

These guys, for all their earnest, off-hand flattery, for as much as they addressed him respectfully, could not be less impressed with him.

One second into the conversation and the Jin is ruthlessly mocking him for his corpse bride attendants with a classic Jin sneer. "What, you don't have any living friends to hang out with?" But he's really not scared, honestly, it's not just posturing, which could mean he's stupid but — also he doesn't seem super mean spirited?? Maybe's he's reading friendliness because the tone is so much like Jiang Cheng when he's joking. Kind of disturbing how similar it is. He kindof wants to ruffle his hair.

The Green one is either joining in an admittedly hilarious bit or defending Wei Wuxian? "I think it's nice! Giving the poor souls a chance to — oh, wait — is it supposed to be intimidating? Oh wow, that's kindof sad, isn't it?"

Lan One, also joining in, absolutely no trace of fear (since when were fucking Lans so at ease around demonic cultivation): "Please disregard my companions. I think it could be very intimidating, to the right sort of visitors, Senior Wei." Senior? Am I even older than you?

Lan Two, a little nervy, but also sitting down and pouring himself a drink?!?: "Kindof over the top though right? I mean, this is exactly the sort of thing you're going to be embarrassed by in —"

"Jingyi! You can't just—"

"What! I'm right! This is totally the sort of 'oh look how evil and scary I am' showmanship that he's going to look back on in 20 years and —"

If the complete and utter disregard of his reputation wasn't enough, they brought him a bribe! Spicy, edible, bribes! And wine! Lans bringing him WINE!

It's crazy, it's definitely crazy — but considering all that — he's almost prepared to believe that might actually be who they say they are, once they start explaining.

Wei Wuxian of course doesn't let them explain much — he knows just enough of time travel theoreticals to know that it either explodes horribly or doesn't actually fix your past mistakes. Until he looks over their notes and figures out what kindof time magic it is they should keep any major changes to themselves — seriously Jin you can destroy your soul with this shit. He'll erase his memory if he has to but — fuck.

He wants. He wants the future where no one's scared of him anymore, not really, not to where they can't sit and share a table with him like a normal person. Where he teaches guest lectures to little Lans and Lan Zhan apparently trusts him enough to help take care of his son as a kid (BABY LAN ZHAN SON! LAN ZHAN HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD ! WHAT A PERFECT YOUNG MASTER YOU RAISED!!") And Shije's son makes fun of him with Jiang Cheng's voice and... he wants.

Which double means they can't explain the terrible things they obviously want to tell him because damn he did not expect to live, what, 20, 30 more years?? Wow! Lan Zhan's not even married yet, and his son is probably 20, so, yeah. Lan Zhan would probably have a super long, elegant courtship — no, no don't tell me. His wife has to be perfect, for you to be such an upstanding young growth — I SAID DON'T ANSWER MY QUESTIONS DO YOU WANT TO TURN LOTUS PIER INTO A CRATER?!?!

Identity Confirmation Aside: Headcanon that Wei Wuxian can in some fashion or another do the genetic stesting thing that fierce corpse's apparently do (ala Nie Mingue's corpse in the Guanyin Temple), which is one way he 'programmed' his armies to attack certain clans and leave alone others. Mildly satisfied that drinking the Jin/Jiang blood was enough to scare them — and ugh, she seriously ended up marrying a Jin?? — okay, okay I won't insult your father! Yeesh. Identity Confirmation Aside Aside: The juniors were less freaked about him drinking blood (they've seen him do that before), and more freaked about their young (oh god is he younger than Zizhen) FLAMBOYANTLY CUTSLEEVE uncle licking Jin Ling's wrist and making WAY too intense eye contact. He was going for demonically intimidating but considering they've all seen him 'cleaning' Lan Wanjii's hands for him after getting street food it came off kindof... yeah. Jingyi gleefully plans on using this against them both at some point in the future. Jin Ling adds another bulletpoint to the Wei Wuxian specific trauma list.

Jin Ling Meta From this AU

My MDZS AU Masterlist

[star-writes-sometimes]

green butter

word count - 2.2k

c.w. - drug use (marijuana, edibles), reader is said to be shorter than remus, idiots in love, pining, implied insecure reader

a/n - i don’t know if i liked how this turned out so i may rewrite and change the ending idk yet

—

you could hear remus snoring from where you were in the kitchen. the rest of your apartment was silent except for the soft snores. if you ever tried to mention it when he was awake, remus would always deny that he made any kind of noise when he slept, instead choosing to tease you about your habit of sleep talking when you’ve had too much to drink.

you were doing the dishes, cleaning up from making green butter earlier in the day. remus had been out the night before with sirius and james and he was exhausted. he was in your apartment for less than 10 minutes before he passed out on your couch.

you finished cleaning the last mixing bowl and left it on the drying rack. you dried your hands on a tea towel, threw it over your shoulder and made your way to your living room. you collapsed on the comfy armchair closest to the kitchen and simply watched remus sleep. 

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over so you could no longer see his face. you huffed in annoyance and used your sock covered foot to reach out and poke his shoulder.

“wake up please lupin.”

he just groaned and shifted tiredly. 

“pleaaaseeee.”

he exhaled sharply and lifted his head up, his annoyed gaze meeting your amused one.

“good morning starshine. the earth says hello!”

“i prefer gene wilder.” remus runs a hand over his scarred face.

“i like ‘em both,” you moved to tuck your feet under you, “makes me feel bad choosing between two things.”

“really?” he smirked, “who do you prefer out of james and sirius?”

“well currently sirius cause he helped me do my makeup a few days ago but it changes depending on which one annoys me less.”

“good choice. james probably would’ve poked your eye out.” he finally sat up, smiling lazily at you, “whats the time?”

“it’s around five so you successfully napped through the afternoon.”

“good that was the aim.” remus stretched, lifting his shirt up slightly, exposing his happy trail.

“do you want dinner, love?”

“no thanks, bunny, but i’ll take some cookies if you’ve got any.”

“i actually need to make some for james and i was gonna make extra,” you paused to yawn, “but i seemed to have misplaced my motivation.”

“aww c’mon bunny,” he got off the couch and knelt in front of your chair, “please make some cookies.”

you tried desperately not to give into his masterful puppy dog eyes, “i thought you were too tired to do anything.”

“i had my nap, now i want time with my super awesome amazing girl who makes the most awesome amazing oatmeal weed cookies.” he pouted up at you, pulling you hand towards him and kissing it, “please baby?”

your resolve couldn’t crumble quicker, “fine, move you big lug i’ll go get started.”

you pushed him aside and walked back into the kitchen while remus trailed behind you closely.

"rem love, can you grab the sugar please?" you asked while pulling the eggs and butter.

"mhmm." he hummed in response.

you grabbed the vanilla extract and a bowl and started to cut up the butter into cubes.

remus came up behind you and placed the sugar on the counter then wrapped his arms around you. 

"ooo green butter," he placed his chin onto your shoulder, pressing into you completely.

"yeah i made it earlier." 

remus reached his hand around a grabbed a cube and quickly popped it in his mouth, "tastes great, bunny."

you swatted him on the side, "don't eat the butter."

"hey that's abuse." he grabbed another bit of butter and popped it into his mouth.

"remus if you eat the butter you'll get high before the cookies are even ready."

"no i won't," he ate another cube, "i'm not a lightweight like you."

"i'm not saying you're a lightweight, love."

he reached for another piece of butter but you slapped his hand before he could grab it.

"whats with all the abuse today?" he asked.

"go sit down and stop eating butter," you pointed to one of the kitchen stools on the other side of the bench you were working at.

remus watched you intently as you made the cookies. whenever you turned your back momentarily though, he would reach across and sneak another cube of the homemade butter.

eventually, once you got the first batch of cookies in the oven you start to clean up, including putting away all the ingredients.

“rem?” 

“hmmm?”

“did you eat more butter?”

“you have no proof of that.”

“i made 500g of butter. i used 250g. there should be 250g left. this isn't 250g.”

“how can you tell that just by looking at it?”

“remus i'm a baker. i do this professionally.”

remus smiled guiltily, “whoops? i’m sorry i’ll help you make more butter tomorrow” 

“rem, i couldn't give less of a fuck about the butter, i’m worried about how high you're about to get.”

“i told you, i am not a lightweight i'm not gonna get high off some butter.”

you roll your eyes and finish cleaning up the kitchen, “whatever you say remsy.”

—

forty two minutes later and remus was face down on your kitchen floor.

he groaned loudly as you took the third batch of cookies out of the oven. the room already smelled of a pleasant mix of weed and fresh baked cookies but opening the oven intensified it, hurting remus' already sore brain.

“it's cold, my face is cold, it's on something cold, the room smells, smells like a headache.” he babbled, voice muffled slightly by the ground.

“you are face first on the tiles, that's why your face is cold and the headache you smell is weed."

“ngh, no,” he protested and rolled over onto his back, “weed smells like awesome and this is a headache smell, are you baking a headache?”

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you look down at his confused face, “you've overdone it, remmy.”

“noooo,” he whined and covered his face, “‘m not a lightweight.”

“you're not, darling,” you cooed and sat down on the floor next to him. you gently ran your hand through his hair.

he opened his eyes at the touch but immediately hissed and squinted, “bright light, there's a real bright light, i think i'm dying.”

you looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh, “that's the kitchen light, and the dying feeling is, once again, the weed.”

he rapidly sat up after you said that and stared at you intensely, “the weed is doing this to me?”

you couldn't help the giggle that slipped through, “yes, love.”

he looked very serious and glared at the ground before he muttered, “that fuckin' giraffe was right.”

it was your turn to be confused, “giraffe- do you mean harold?”

“that scary fucker was right.”

“you were scared of harold the giraffe?”

“he was tall and i couldn't trust his eyes.” he said with such a strong gaze you almost forgot how ridiculous the conversation was, “is he coming to take me?”

“h-harold? you think harold is coming to take you?”

“yeah, i broke his rules, i did drugs and now i'm paying the price, he's gonna come for me.”

you turned your head to laugh silently, not wanting to mock him (while he was like this, you were definitely mocking him in the morning), “love, harold won't come for you, and even if he did you're not a kid anymore, you're tall too.”

he nodded, like he understood, “yeah i’m tall, i could take that skinny twat.” he nodded, seemingly calm. until he once again jolted and looked at you extremely seriously, “you're short.”

“thank you for noticing rem,” you said, slightly sarcastically.

“harold will come for you because he knows i care about you. he'll take you from me.” he said in a panicky tone.

your touched by his care for you but also recognise the absurdity of what he's saying, “remmy, i promise i’m safe, i'm here with you.”

he gave you a look of determination and nodded. as quick as he could in his intoxication he wrapped his arms around your middle and re-laid down on the floor with you. 

“remmy, what are you doing?” you asked, curious, not bothered by his actions.

“protecting you.” he said, voice muffled from where it was buried in your neck.

“hmm thank you,” you hummed out.

he held on tightly and quietly sat there holding you for a few blissful minutes, but the biting cold of the tiles wasn't the most comfortable in the february weather.

“remus, lovie?”

he tapped you as his way of responding, not loosening his grip.

“can we go to bed?”

he squeezed you tighter, “‘m not tired and i need to protect you.”

“i'm tired baby,” you said with a slight breathy laugh.

“i need you to be safe,” he mumbled against your neck.

“we'll stay together the whole time.”

“promise?” he said softly.

“pinky promise.”

at that he slowly rolled off of you but he made sure his hand was touching some part of you at all time - like he was scared you would disappear.

you went to your bedroom with remus following close behind, your fingers tightly threaded together. when you both stopped, remus re-wrapped his arms around you tightly, his large hands going underneath your loose tshirt.

“rem,” you whined softly, “what are you doing now?”

“‘m not close enough to you, need to get closer,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head.

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t think we can get much closer than this.”

“sure we can bunny,” he said with a hint of mischief in his tone, “we can be much closer,”

“we already see each other everyday, spend most of our free time together, and-” his thumb rubbed against your ribs causing you to giggle slightly, “and that. how much closer can we be?”

you looked up at him just in time to see his smirk. he pressed a kiss to your temple and used his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “nowhere near close enough,” he said softly and kissed your cheek.

you held your breath. his touch made you shiver. your skin erupted in goosebumps and you leaned closer to him. he gripped your chin and looked into your eyes.

his eyes were bloodshot.

he was high.

you stepped back slightly at the reminder. you grabbed his hands in your own and led him towards your bed, “c’mon rem, bedtime.”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, “what? bunny, i want us to be closer.”

“you’re high, love, you’ll feel different in the morning,” you said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“no, i won’t, why do you never believe me?” he asked.

“because you only say this stuff when you’re high.”

he slumped over with his forehead resting on your shoulder, “‘m not saying it cause i’m high, the high makes me say the truth.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled away from him. you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you. he smiled dopily and sat next to you. as soon as he sat he feel backwards, laying on your bed and groaning slightly.

you let out a breathy laugh and shook your head, “you can’t even sit up.”

“you keep me stable.”

“i’m also the one enabling your edible addiction.”

“it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling me ‘cause you always take care of me.”

you laid down next to him and face him. he clumsily pulled the blanket over you both and let his hand rest of the side of your face.

“my pretty little bunny, i’ll make you believe me one day,” he promised. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close.

you looked at his pretty face, his messy sandy blonde hair, his bloodshot eyes. you wished you could believe him. you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. you could at least pretend.

he kissed your cheek and held you tightly, “nice and close bunny, i gotta protect you and make you feel loved.”

you melt into him and laugh softly, “protect me?”

“don’t know if that giraffe is comin’ for us.”

“well we can’t have that now can we.”

it was silent for a few moments.

“what do giraffe’s eat?”

“mostly leaves i think, why, love?”

“i don’t like being scared that you’ll be hurt, we should set a trap tomorrow.”

“for harold?”

“yes, you can bake something and i’ll construct a gaint moustrap for the slimy fucker.”

you tried desperately to keep your giggles to yourself, “that’s a job for the morning.”

“i know, you go to sleep, bunnies need lots of rest.”

“goodnight remmy.”

“goodnight bunny.” he kissed your cheek again, “love you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, “love you too.”

you could pretend it was real.

[littlenahsstuff]

Can you plz do a Bridget x reader??? Perhaps super fluffy. Like a sunshine x grumpy trope?

Without baking soda

Bridget x reader.

You are making something for Bridget and suck at it but she can’t refuse you.

Warnings: not proofread! Sorry this is so short!

Word count: ~800 words

~~~~~

Bridget was the best at almost anything she set her mind to, baking, baking was where she really could shine. Y/n didn’t know why out of all the ways to be a supportive girlfriend, she chose Bridget’s thing. She would just huff and say it was more personal. That she wanted to prove to Bridget she could do more than-

“Sit there and look pretty.”

Of course Bridget didn’t mean it, that Y/n couldn’t, but she still wanted to be a help. So, to prove that, Y/n would make muffins. They didn’t require any fancy filling or frosting and she always saw her mom making them when she was younger, it looked easy!

“Add… what’s a tsp?” She muttered to herself. She needed to add salt. She stood there for about five minutes trying to figure out what the cookbook people meant. She was about to give up at the start when she remembered the tiny tools also had labels on them for the amounts. So far she had sugar and flour, maybe too much of each but those required the bigger tiny tools. She quickly went onto the next thing… baking powder. Again using the tsp spoon thing.

You’d think she would’ve remembered from all her times watching Bridget bake but then again, all she was doing while Bridget was baking was gaze lovingly at her girlfriend’s face.

Okay then, “baking soda?” She puzzled. “Wait but what the hell’s the difference?” Y/n, prior to baking had gotten all of her supplies ready… except she forgot the baking soda.

“Is it like- baking powder and soda maybe, I don’t remember seeing anything…” Y/n glanced at her drink…a ginger ale. “No… it couldn’t be…” she got the brilliant idea, just a splash of soda in baking powder aught to make baking soda.

So she put just a dabble of ginger ale in her baking powder. It started bubbling but stopped.

“Perfect!” She said. Y/n went through the rest of the directions practically perfectly. the oven was the right temperature, she was extra careful with the butter and oil. She was doing great. She thought so too… until they came out of the oven rock solid. They still were delicious, but far too crunchy for anyone’s liking.

Nevertheless, she wanted to give them to Bridget, how much she wanted to changed.

She went on her grumpy little way to Bridget’s dorm, each step making her rethink the whole thing. Poor thing shook the whole way.

She knocked on the door. Bridget had said she didn’t have to, but it was always a safe measure.

“Come in!” The door creaks open and closed. Bridget gets up off of her bed and skips over to you, her arms wrap around you.

“Hi there,” you say. Your cheeks heating up.

“Hi!” She looks down. “Ooh what are these?” She points to the covered tray. You shrug.

“Um, just something I made for you” Y/n mumble, looking away. Bridget smiles and squeals.

She’s practically buzzing, “oh my, for me?” Y/n coughs, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand.

“Well… don’t get too excited, they’re not the prettiest. And um, I didn’t try them.” She laughs bitterly. Bridget smile softens. She takes the tray from you.

She unwraps them and while her frown doesn’t falter, the baker-in-the-making sees a small twitch in her eye.

“Nonsense love, these look edible.” Bridget pries one out of the tin and holds it in her hand. “This looks delightful even.” You scoff.

“No need to sugarcoat. I know it’s not that good. But even if you hate them could you try it please?” Y/n’s voice is soft. She tried not to wince as she takes a second look at the muffin.

“I was planning on eating it anyways” she rebuts, biting into the baked good with a crunch. She powers through the chew. Y/n is trying not to show she cares, when in reality, she is on the edge of her proverbial seat.

Bridget swallows and hums, “there’s a certain taste to it, but I can’t place my finger on it. It’s like lemony almost. The texture is certainly interesting, but it’s no different than snacking on a pretzel. It’s still lovely my heart.” Y/n’s shoulders relax as she huffs out a relieved sigh.

“Glad to hear, um yeah that’s ginger ale… it’s uh… an improvisation.” Y/n shyly rocks back and forth.

Bridget sets the rest of the tray down and pulls Y/n if for another hug. The heat returns immediately as Bridget thanks you.

“This was a lovely surprise thank you.” Y/n shrugs in her arms.

“Yeah no problem, I definitely need more practice. Surprised you didn’t chip a tooth.” She grumbles but smiles softly after. Overall she’s just grateful Bridget liked the effort. She squeezes Bridget once more before pulling apart.

“Harder har, no of course not. Anyways, to show you how grateful I am, why don’t we go cuddle my love?” Y/n nods. She’d never verbally admit it, but being held and holding Bridget was her most favorite thing in the world.

[awoogahonkhonk]

There’s actually a lot of TWST characters who I think would (or wouldn’t) partake in the devils lettuce sooo here are some TWST weed Headcanons.

~~~

Also, Ik they teens. Teens, don’t do drugs. But I did as a teen and am still not of age, high while writing this soooo yeah. Please remember that this is fiction and these are fictional characters.

Note: not all characters are in this list. If I didn’t add a character it’s either cause I had nothing of substance to say about them or I don’t know the character enough to make a proper headcanon. Also if I say something wrong I’m sorry I’m not a connoisseur I just do what I get.

Warning(s): General talk about weed, Yuu is a stoner(maybe idk) in this, cursing, unedited and written by someone under the influence

~~~

Riddle Rosehearts: As much as I want him to, and I think he would actually benefit from it, he wouldn’t. Especially pre overblot but also post. And it’s more than it’s against the rules. All he knows about marijuana is what he’s learned from the anti drug PSA’s his moms had him watch. And he hates the smell. And his fragile lungs can’t take smoke. And he doesn’t trust edibles or like the taste. So, as much as I want him to just give it a chance and chill tf out, it’s a firm no.

Trey Clover: He’s impartial. Doesn’t like smoking, or getting high in general but he doesn’t have anything against others doing it. May smoke in group settings but rarely. He will 100% make some fire weed brownies if you ask. Also, number one guy to be with if you get the munchies.

Cater Diamond: I think he’s tried it, had a bad high, and never touched the stuff again. Might be convinced to try again with some close friends but only if they know what they’re doing. Also, acts like he knows what he’s doing but ends up hacking up a lung.

Ace Trappola: Yeah why not. He’s down to try anything once. Actually likes being high with people, like him and Deuce and Yuu have reg smoke sessions and he loves it. Just likes the feeling idk. I don’t think he smokes alone tho. Likes flavored pens.

Deuce Spade: Will attend every smoke session and get a second hand high but will rarely actually participate. He thinks he has to be the responsible one while Yuu and Ace get high off their asses. But he’s not against smoking a little every once in awhile.

Leona Kingscholar: For sure dude. Someone is almost always on something in Savanaclaw so he’s been around his fair share and tried a couple things. Doesn’t like the smell from joints cause yk beast man heightened everything. So he prefers edibles or pens. Pens still stink to him but not as bad. Casual stoner. It helps him sleep when everyone in his dorm is all riled up over nothing. Gave Ruggie his first edible but was not happy when he had to take care of him after he greened out. (I have so many nsfw thoughts about Leona and smoking with Yuu omg don’t)

Ruggie Bucchi: Like I said, first time he had an edible he greened out. In his defense, the dosage was way too much. Leona kinda forgot he wasn’t as tolerant as him. He didn’t really want to do it again after that but he figured out smoking was easier cause he could gage where he was better. So now he’s a lil stoner. High Ruggie = ravenous Ruggie. Like Fr you’d think this kid was starving the way he was shoveling shredded cheese into his mouth, straight out the bag.

Azul Ashengrotto: Just gonna make a blanket statement now, none of the mer students smoke. They aren’t technically supposed to have lungs and filling those lungs with smoke is just painful. So he doesn’t smoke. He’ll do an edible every so often, usually to help him sleep, but that’s it. IS the campus dealer tho. He knows a guy. He knows quite a few guys actually. Hooks everyone up, for a price.

Jade Leech: Never has, never will. Has absolutely no interest in it. Doesn’t like not being in control of himself. Will be around when others get high though, he thinks it’s hilarious. Especially when people do too much and get sick.

Floyd Leech: Complete opposite of his brother. Will get high anytime, anywhere, with anyone. It hurts to smoke, like I said previously, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying. It’s actually getting better. He also thinks smoking looks cooler than edibles. High Floyd is a very cuddly monster. Will squeeze anyone who gets close enough. Just be thankful that he’s too out of it to use his full strength.

Vil Schoenheit: Will loudly advocate against it and ban his dorm from doing it but probably has a secret stash somewhere. Only Rook knows about it. He’s stressed ok?! You try being a famous actor/model/fairest in the land.

Epel Felmier: My boy wants to. He really does. He thinks it looks so cool, and if Yuu can do it so can he! But the smoke burns his lungs and edibles taste bad. But that doesn’t stop him from trying!

Idia Shroud: OKAY so there are two ways I could write this. Cannon how he probably is, or headcannon how I want him to be and see him as. Cannon, he probably talks a big game but actually knows jack shit about drugs of any kind. And is kinda scared to try. But he will, to seem cool. Ends up coughing up his heart but he tried and that’s what counts. And now he can officially say he’s ‘done weed’. Headcannon, Idia as a little loner stoner. It calms his nerves and makes it easier to talk to people. Usually if he’s out of his dorm, he’s high. He’s also high when he’s in his dorm. It helps him sleep and he thinks better with a lil weed in his system. May have developed a small codependency but that’s okay(no it’s not seek help). Mr wake and bake.

Malleus Draconia: Weed? Like, dandelions? What? He’s so confused when someone offers. Why would you smoke weeds? Lilia has to explain it to him three different ways before he gets it. He’ll try, but please give him an edible. It’s for your own safety. His lungs could probably take the smoke but if he ends up taking a hit too big he will cough up flames and not little ones. Very spacey once he’s high. Will stair at the ceiling for hours and say absolutely nothing.

Lilia Vanrouge: Has, will, wants to rn actually. Lilia lived through the 70s, he’s done almost every drug known to man, and probably some not yet known, at least once. Why not? He can take it. Doesn’t smoke often but also does? Idk how to explain it. Likes flavored cartridges more than anything else. The weirdo who fucks with cotton candy. He gets bad cotton mouth tho so… I mean, if you believe in the vampire theory like I do…👀

Silver: The first time he smoked was with his dad. He walked in on Lilia and a bong when he was like 15 and Lilia was like cmon m’boy. Now, he’s concerned that Lilia wasn’t more careful and exposed him so young but that also means he has an okay relationship with weed. Like, he’s able to make his decision firmly due to plenty of experimentation. He hates smoking and edibles generally but will absolutely body some weed brownies.

[fatuismooches]

Hello! Just dropping in with another silly question but what are dinner dates looking like with Zandik and the segments? Like if fragile reader was slowly getting better and decided to enjoy a little dinner date with one of the segments each, some not even going out but rather in a private dinning room within the place.

Though it sounds unbelievable to many, there's quite often a segment with you for meals, due to various reasons (shaky hands, lack of appetite/motivation, etc). Of course, over time their presence becomes less and less as you become healthier, however, it is certainly not what one calls a "date." Most of the time it's pretty much just you eating in peace while the segment attends to whatever work he needs to do while simultaneously keeping an eye on you. Which is why you wanted to change that up a bit, both you and your beloveds deserved a small break.

I don't think you would actually go anywhere with any of them. Both of you probably prefer being in the comfort of the lab much more (and also the effort of going out and dressing up and all... so much work... but here you can drag them to bed to cuddle right after! Yeah, is the lab kinda dreary and boring? Maybe, but you can spice it up! And it's the person in front of you that matters, after all.)

It'd be a pain to get Zandik himself to do this, he's always busy and locked up in his lab doing research and work... and furthermore, he barely eats... when he does, he does it too quickly and doesn't even savor the food properly, just so he can get back to experiments quicker. That's not proper for a dinner date! Not sure how you'd convince him, not very easy. Even if you do, it would be quite rushed and probably not what you wanted.

It would be a very special occasion whenever an actual dinner happens. Even though you two would have a lot of a lot of time, he would find it difficult to sit and simply eat for so long. He thinks of his segments and their work. However, just keep your hand placed on his and try to divert his attention. Getting him to start ranting about his projects is pretty easy. Once he gets into the atmosphere, he seems to forget this is a dinner date rather than a chatting one (still eats the cold food like it's no problem).

It's easier to get the segments to do this, mostly because they're vying for your attention as they don't get much from you sometimes...

Omega is by far the most suave with it. He wipes your face when you have something near your mouth, and he helps you recover from joking when he says something that makes you embarrassed. Also forces you to eat the vegetables. Webttore, well, it's pretty chaotic. The "romantic" aspect of a dinner date is lost on him. Be prepared to defend your dessert against him, he will try and take it. The Akademiya segment wouldn't have much of a taste for a good dinner, having become used to hardly edible stuff, but he would appreciate it the most if you cooked for him. His notes are always present at dinner, something that reminds you of being a student with him four hundred years ago. Of course, he'll let you read them if that's what you wish. (Please engage in intellectual conversation with him about them.)

The only segment that you can have an actual dinner with every day really is little Zandy. The conversation is always sweet and fun when you're with the child. However, sometimes you need to remind him to eat before the food gets cold or not to speak with his mouth full...

[lace-coffin]

Hello! 👋 I have a really weird kinda specific request for Asa. Could you pretty please write headcanons of Asa with a picky eater s/o? But like an emotional picky eater, idk if that makes sense. Personally I have a rlly hard time with motivation to eat, I'm also a picky eater so when someone else eats my food and I run out of my favorites I get really frustrated and emotional because it's hard for me to eat already and eating foods I don't like just make it 10x harder. Idk I'm a crybaby and cry over food lol. Sorry if this is weird or too specific 😅. Anyways I love your writing keep up the good work and have a fantastic day/night!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request! No need to apologise! I love specific requests! I’m also a pretty picky eater due to my autism so ur not alone! I’m so happy u like my writing ah T T have a fantastic night urself!!

Asa Emory x picky eater!Reader

Requests are open!

The restaurant was supposed to be a reward for your good behaviour lately, unfortunately it turned into a nightmare only moments after being seated. Flicking through the menu your heart rate starts to spike, making you feel a little sweaty and out of it. The restaurant is beautiful and lavish but unfortunately that means the menu is more ‘out there’ and doesn’t have any of your safe foods on it…

You don’t want to ruin the reward, it’s a nice restaurant and you’re here to enjoy it with your master. attempting to shovel the anxiety down you order something that you think could be edible to you. Your nervous energy dies down a little as convocation flows between the two of you, laughing along easily and lost in it you almost forget the problem at hand. Until it arrives.

Five minuets pass and you haven’t eaten more than one bite after pushing the meal around your plate with the fork, trying to stall. You try will yourself to take another bite but you can’t do it, your eyes are starting to water and you don’t know what to do, if only you could just buckle down and eat it. Unfortunately that’s not an option, your stomach starting to turn and your breath catching at the idea.

Asa notices you haven’t spoken in a while, he figured you’d just been enjoying the meal until he’d looked up, your face contorted in worry and tears threatening to fall.

“-re you ok? Pet?”

Blinking away your tears you pull yourself back into the moment, only catching the latter half of what your partner said but getting the gist. No use in hiding it now, there’s no way you’re going to finish this meal without crying, and you sure as fuck don’t want to be crying in the middle of the restaurant. You can’t think of anything more mortifying.

Eyes falling away from Asa and back to the plate you take a breath and begin to explain, voice small and apologetic.

“They didn’t have any foods I know I like so uh I ordered something new! I didn’t like it though..” you say, wincing a little.

“I’ve tried my best to eat it but I just..can’t. I promise I’ve tried my hardest and I really want this reward to be good and I love being here with you but it’s stressing me out so bad!” You sniffle again at the end, explaining the issue always makes you emotional again.

“Oh pet” Asa sighs with a fond expression.

“You should’ve said something, it’s really no worry at all, we could’ve gone somewhere else, I won’t take offence.”

You let out an exhale of relief, realistically you knew he wouldn’t be angry with you considering he already knew about your eating difficulties but it still didn’t stop you from panicking.

“Cricket” your owner addresses you again, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

“Would you like to leave and get some takeout? We can go to your favourite, it’s your reward after all.” He smiles softly at you.

Squeezing his hand affectionately you can’t help but grin back.

“I would love that, sir.”

I rlly wanted to do the rest of ur request too so have some extra headcanons on the house lmao

“Come on pet, just one more bite and I promise no more.” Asa coos as he scoops the spoon full of food, bringing it to your lips. The gesture is very sweet but unfortunately you want absolutely nothing less than to have the next bite, the idea nauseating.

-After finding out about the difficulties you have surrounding food he likely keeps multiple packages of your safe food stocked in the house

-always has a food you know you like in the freezer or fridge on standby when trying new foods incase it doesn’t go well

-he’ll never get angry at you if you suddenly go off your food, he’ll either offer to get you something else or make you pinky promise to eat later when you feel better

-has absolutely let you cry it out more than once at the drive through when you find out the thing you’ve been thinking about all day is out of stock

-if you’re finding it hard to eat and he absolutely can’t get you out of bed/move you to eat then he’ll bring the food too you, will happily feed you if you ask or look like you need it, he loves to feel dominant and needed

[rottmntsimp]

Hey! Love your writing! if reqs are open, would you be willing to write rottmnt Casey Jr x reader? Maybe something fully and/or cozy, like them having a lazy night or doing some housework or something? There’s such a drought of CJ content :c

Leisurely Love [Domestic Headcanons]

Pairing[s]: Casey Junior x Reader A/N: Finally posting after months of writer's block!! 💪 Anyway, sorry the order's a bit scattered 😅

Casey Junior

💖 - GAH I LOVE DOMESTIC HEADCANONS OK

💖 - Starting off with the kitchen <33

💖 - I've said this before in one of my earlier headcanons, but CJ does not understand the concept of good food. To him edible = food, regardless of taste or texture. "What do you mean it's burnt? It's still food!"

💖 - If you like cooking, you're in luck! He'll gladly be your personal taste tester!!

💖 - And with enough effort, care and love, my boy will be cooking you a small meal in no time!!

💖 - He definitely has a habit of hoarding things he likes

💖 - Back in the apocalypse, keeping things was a risk on its own, especially when you never know when you're gonna have to move.

💖 - But now that he's safe, my boy will keep anything and everything. You guys will probably have a drawer or two dedicated to things that remind of him of his family from back in the apocalypse, you, or just something really pretty :]

💖 - Baby boy loves gardening! Or at least getting to watch the plants grow :]

💖 - He doesn't exactly trust himself to care for them, seeing as the last few he tried to keep withered within a week.

💖 - But if you're into gardening or keep a pet plant, he'll gladly let you keep some around the house!! Hell, he might even help with planting some outside if you really wanted.

💖 - Animals, oh boy...

💖 - Personally, if not for the apocalypse, I feel like CJ would've LOVED dogs-

💖 - But due to his experience with the Kraang, some of them shaped like animals...best to say it'll take some time for him to warm up to them.

💖 - My boy has warm hands. How do I know? I just do.

💖 - If you have cold hands, believe me when I say he is never letting go.

💖 - He's not much of a cuddler, or so he claims. There's an underlying fear in his head that he might accidentally kick you or push you away in his sleep, so he chooses to instead just fall asleep facing you. It comforts him to wake up to the sight of you, messy or not.

💖 - Daily reminders that his life is not constantly at stake? Yes please.

💖 - Favorite place to kiss you? Your forehead <3 [We love a gentleman 😌]

💖 - If you're terrified of bugs, fear not!

💖 - Casey will kill them in the blink of an eye, maybe even pick them up and leave them outside if you ask.

💖 - When it comes to cleaning, he doesn't like to throw things out, as I said earlier.

💖 - He's the kind of guy to organize the mess instead of actually cleaning up. "Messy? But I know where everything is!"

💖 - When he discovers music, it's like his eyes had just opened for the first time. Help him go through this journey please.

💖 - Introduce him to your favorite artists, help him find his type.

💖 - Eventually, this will become "your" thing.

💖 - He will run over to you, excitedly rambling on about this new song he'd just listened to, before making you listen to it too, saying how "-you've got to listen to this!"

💖 - Lazy days consist of introducing him to modern culture!!

💖 - I'm talking memes, shows, films, games, everything- Hell, consider it a sleepover at this point, because my boy is willing to give anything a try. Show him the wonders of the modern world ♥

💖 - Now if we're talking about the FAR future? I'm sorry, but he does NOT want kids, adopted or not.

💖 - He saw how much of a handful they could be back in the resistance, and he'd be dead by the time he admitted wanting that.

💖 - If it's any consolation, he might become more open to the whole pet situation.

💖 - Regardless, indulge in the poor boy's hobbies and interests please. Give him some love and you're bound to get some back <3

💖 - Anyway, 11/10 roomie/partner ♥♥

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