#they also help her to know what direction to take

[formulafanfics13]

could you write one where the reader is really clumsy, falls around and stuff and she has a lot of bruises on her legs so the everyone on the grid is messing with her (on practice day) about her and oscar being wild and him giving her the bruises

take it from there in which ever direction you want

Bruised from fucking? - OP81 🔥

Masterlist

summary: You've got a habit of falling over cables, knocking your shins on garage steps, and walking into stationary things like chairs and fire extinguishers. You'd think the grid would understand that. But no—one week of bruised legs and suddenly everyone thinks Oscar is manhandling you in bed. warnings: clumsy!reader, soft dom!oscar, chaotic grid teasing, bruising (not serious), sexual innuendo, group chat madness, teasing, implied smut, Oscar being smug, fluff + filth undertones

You really, truly, did not expect a single bruise to go viral.Okay, so maybe it wasn't just one. But it's not your fault your coordination has the consistency of whipped cream on a hot day.

You bruise easily. Always have. Your legs are just... collision-prone.

Garage floor edges, stiff cables, those portable media chairs that look soft but are secretly made of reinforced death. Your knees are like magnets. The bruises on your legs weren't cute, but they were harmless. Mostly on your shins and thighs. Some yellowed and fading, some newer.

What you didn't realise, of course, was that the shorts you wore on media day in Barcelona, cute, beige, high-waisted, barely longer than your McLaren team polo, put every single one of those little war wounds on full display.

You also didn't realise George Russell had the peripheral vision of a hawk and the maturity of a 14-year-old boy. He catches sight of you as you round the corner from McLaren hospitality toward the media pen. His eyes flick down. He stops mid-stride.

"Oh my god," he mutters, and before you can even say hello, his face breaks into a slow, evil grin. "Didn't know Piastri had it in him."

You blink. "What?"

George gestures to your thighs. "Those, babe. Your legs. Jesus Christ."

"I bumped into the hydraulic lift last night, George."

He grins wider. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

You groan. "Are you twelve?"

He shrugs. "You're the one walking around the paddock looking like Fifty Shades of Papaya."

You storm off. Which would be fine, except he takes a picture of your retreating bruised legs and sends it to the grid's group chat with the caption:

GEORGE 🕊️: Piastri needs to chill. Girl can't even walk.

By lunch, it's chaos. Pierre sees you by the coffee stand and gives you the once-over, gaze lingering dramatically on the bruise near your inner thigh. He whistles. "Oof. That's at least a seven out of ten. Wild weekend, non?"

You roll your eyes. "I walked into the sim rig. It's made of metal, Pierre."

He winks. "So is Oscar, apparently."

Lando doesn't even pretend to be subtle. He strolls past McLaren's hospitality deck just as you're stretching one leg on the bottom rail, trying to soothe the tightness in your hamstring, and shouts, "Jesus, give her a break next time, Oscar! She's got media duties, not a physio appointment!"

You nearly fall off the railing. Oscar, who's standing not two metres away sipping a smoothie, deadpans, "She bruises easy."

You snap your head toward him. "Oscar."

"What?" he says, way too innocent. "You do."

"Don't help me."

He shrugs, unfazed.

Charles, walking past with a banana in one hand and his phone in the other, offers a soft smile and a concerned, "Do you need help walking?"

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

And then the social team gets involved. The McLaren TikTok from Free Practice goes up that afternoon. The video starts innocently enough, you tripping over a cable as you try to walk backwards, Oscar catching you by the waist in one smooth motion and pulling you upright.

Then the freeze-frame. The zoom. The caption.

"Supportive boyfriend or the reason for the bruises? 👀 #McLaren #OscarPiastri #F1"

You scream into your lanyard. Oscar? Smirks. The group chat is in flames by dinner.

PIERRE 👑: I'm just saying... the thigh placement? That's strategic bruising. 

MAX 🧊: tell oscar to aim lower next time unless she's got a race engineer kink

GEORGE 🕊️: she passed the fuck-me-from-behind limp test this morning btw

LEWIS 🐐: do gen z not believe in safe words or are y'all just playing on nightmare mode

LANDO 🐝: be honest: is your safe word "brake bias"?

YOU: THEY'RE. NOT. SEX. BRUISES.

OSCAR 🦘: i mean. not all of them.

YOU: OSCAR. YOU TRAITOR.

Later that night, you're in Oscar's hotel room, tucked under the duvet, still glaring at your phone as you read through a Reddit thread that's convinced you're being railed like a lawn chair every night because of a single shot of your legs on F1TV.

Oscar watches you scroll. He's freshly showered, hair damp, hoodie soft and sleeves pushed up to the elbows. He's lying on his side beside you, one hand gently resting on the same thigh that sparked the chaos.

"Still mad?" he asks, amused.

You pout. "I tripped over a tire gun. And somehow now half the internet thinks you choked me out with a halo."

He laughs. Soft and warm. Then kisses your bare shoulder and whispers, "I mean, I could, if that would make you feel better."

You groan. "Don't you dare."

"You like when I leave little marks, though."

You bite your lip. "That's different."

He shifts closer. Presses his mouth to the darkest bruise on your thigh. "Say the word," he murmurs, "and I'll give them a real reason to talk."

Your breath catches. You're so screwed.

[internetladyfables]

[Headcanons] Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley: He Asks You to Be His Girlfriend

cw: self-indulgent, possible OOC, fluff, female reader.

Requested by anon.

Spends more time than he’ll ever admit analyzing his feelings. He spends weeks observing your behaviour around himself. He rationalizes everything: your eye contact, your smiles, your laugh at his jokes (that many don’t find funny), the fact you don’t mind his bluntness. The logical part of his brain fights the emotional one, but in the end, he knows what he wants — it’s you.

Debates whether confessions should be direct or romantic. Logical or emotional. In the end, he drafts several versions in his head and throws them all out the window last minute. Prefers to confess in a quiet place with no audience that can bother the both of you. Maybe during a walk in Sumeru’s serene nature.

Being blunt is in Alhaitham’s nature, so he doesn’t beat around the bush when says: “I’ve considered the implications of taking our relationship to the next stage. Would you be interested in entering a romantic partnership with me?” Even though he tries to to sound casual, his voice is a bit lower than usual; he speaks also a bit slower, carefully selecting the right words; his fingers may twitch.

Watches your reaction like a scholar observing a rare phenomenon. A shock can be seen on your face, so he tries to explain himself better: “I find your presence… pleasant. Even necessary. I’d like us to be more than friends.”

Will respect your decision completely and stay composed regardless of your answer. But if you happily accept his confession, he will let out the smallest sigh of relief and his cheeks will turn pinkish.

Bonus: during his boy evenings with Kaveh, Cyno and Tignari, he may throw casually “My girlfriend...”, and cue a visible shock on the trio’s faces, “Your who?” Alhaitham never bothered to tell anyone that he dates you, not because he’s embarrassed, he prefers to keep his private life, well, private, and when he nonchalantly mentions his girlfriend out blue, the trio just can’t believe him.

Is unfamiliar with romantic attachment — he’s always been distant, composed, observing humans from a distance. It takes a long time for him to understand the feeling blooming in his heart. Love is foreign and curious to him. With you, he starts to feel these things. Warm, an ache, a desire to be near you. That’s when he starts to understand: he misses you. Not just as a companion, but in a way that makes his chest tighten.

Turns to the literature that may help him, watches human interactions, even asks Furina (regretfully, she’s not a big help in this area and becomes flustered as if it’s her love life being discussed) and Melusines (are better advisors than Furina in this topic (mainly because they live with humans closer and like their literature), though their approach may be a little forward for someone like Neuvillette, but generally, they’re super supportive and he takes mental notes of their pieces of advice).

Writes down what he wants to say. Revises it. Memorizes it. Rehearses it in from of the mirror. Then throws it all out when he sees you, because you smile at him and he forgets every word.

Invites you to Opera Epiclese for a private conversation. Looking at him, at how stern he looks and how formal he speaks, you wonder if he’s going to arrange a private court hearing and judge you for a crime you don’t know you committed. But actually, he’s really nervous, and that’s how he just tries to keep himself together.

His words are formal, noble. But if you look at his eyes, you’ll see nervousness, vulnerability, and tenderness — what he doesn’t show in court: “There is much I don’t understand about the human heart… but I know mine finds peace when you are near. If you would allow me, I would like to court you and to explore the possibility of something deeper.”

Whatever your answer, he remains respectful and understanding. If you need time to think, he waits patiently without pressure, proving that he values your feelings above all else.

Bonus: melusines knew everything even before Neuvillette did. They noticed his emotions and attitude around you. They are thrilled when they find out about your relationship and may gently tease him, “Finally, our dear Iudex lets someone have his heart!” They don’t stop giving him advice; they even write a book and slips it to him “How to Be a Good Boyfriend: Melusine Edition.”

Enjoys your company, finds your voice soothing, and notices how he relaxes when you’re around. But he brushes it off. Until Clorinde or Sigewinne teases him about the way he smiles when you’re around, and he freezes. “Wait. Do I…? No. Huh...”

Overthinks the matters for days. Despite his confident appearance, Wriothesley is inexperienced at romantic stuff. He’s used to dealing with criminals, not matters of the heart. He even asks Sigewinne for advice — though, she’s noticed his condition beforehand he himself realises it — only for her to tease him endlessly. In any case, surprisingly, he gives good pieces of advice — she’s lived long enough to learn something about humans and their romantic matters.

Tries to come up with a plan.“Do I just… say it? Am I supposed to give her something?” He overthinks it so much that Sigewinne eventually tells him, with a knowing smile: “You’ll be less intimidating if you stop glaring like this while thinking about her, you know.”

When he finally works up the courage, he may ask you during a quiet moments on one of your walks together when you visit him at the Fortress, or he invites you for tea in his office, pretending it’s for a small matter.

Pours the tea, sits across from you, folds his hands on his lap, and it takes him ten seconds to finally speak: “...I like you. A lot more than I probably should, considering how long I’ve kept quiet about it. So… Would it be alright if I courted you?”

Doesn’t fidget, but his body goes very still, like a rock. Even his heartbeat is louder than usual. And when you say yes, he lets out a breath and chuckles, soft and slightly disbelieving to the point he gets a bit red. But if you mention it, he clears his throat and looks away, “Must be the tea. It’s warm.”

Bonus: Sigewinne has been shipping you two even before you two realised your feelings for each other. When you two officially together, she becomes your cheerleader. She brings you sweets, checks in with you often, has girl talks with you, “Tell me everything! Was he romantic? Did he look all serious and broody? I need the details!”

[slipperyenvelope]

~Taking What's Not Yours~

You’re a bit salty (really jealous) that Kris never had to try to get good grades; they’re just naturally talented. You’ve never interacted with them one-on-one, but it doesn’t stop your resentment from growing. Turns out all you needed was a nice, close stare at their face and a good ol’ sniff of their apple scent to think maybe you just admire them a lot more than you’re willing to admit.

~~~ heyy !! yeah so dont let the summary fool you, this is 10.5k words of pure disgusting slice-of-life fluff and i definitely went too far with this but i have no self control. reader's also lowkey a weirdo. please enjoy !!!

~~~

You can’t keep your leg from bouncing as Miss Alphys calls each name, one by one. 

“J-jockington… Snowy… Monster kid…”

They all rise, one by one, accepting their marked tests with an odd enthusiasm. Some faces drop to frowns, some rise to grins.

You might piss yourself. No joke.

“S-susie.”

You wince from the shrieking groan of the metal chair in the back of the classroom as Susie prances to the front, swinging her arms like she owns the place. She snatches the paper from Miss Alphys’ trembling hands with a confident smirk. 

With one quick glance to a certain human in the classroom, she doesn’t even look at her test before crumpling it into a paper ball and shooting it perfectly into the garbage can. She lights up.

“Haha! Fifty bucks! Pay up!”

She laughs, weaving between desks to slam her fists on the one behind you. You glide your hands over your face, trying to tune out the bickering.

“S-susie, ah, please d-don’t damage school p-property.”

You hear roaring laughter following a joke you couldn’t make out. Is it because your heart is beating out of your chest? Maybe you should go see a doctor.

“B-berdly.”

The bird rises quickly, ready to give his I-just-did-better-than-you-plebeians-on-this-test speech. Miss Alphys, surprisingly, shuts him up this time. Politely, of course. Wish she could’ve done that the last ten times. 

He plucks the test by the stapled corner, holding it delicately as if it were an ancient artifact. It would mean something if he didn’t get the clear 100% every time. You’d hate him if he wasn’t your self-proclaimed study-buddy. He proclaims it. Not you. Let that be clear.

Whatever mark you get on this test is partially on him.

Noelle is called right after, shyly holding the paper to her torso as if the red marker didn’t glow through the pages, a faint 98% visible. You can’t help but be a little jealous despite not knowing what you got yet. Not a 98, that’s for sure.

Your teacher barely glances in your direction before your piercing gaze sends her into a sweat-inducing panic.

She squeaks out your name, though very drowned out from your desk screeching and nearly tipping over from your force.

Maybe you sprint. Maybe it’s a bit embarrassing. But it doesn’t matter now; the pages planted in your hand.

…

72%.

You seem to freeze in place.

Damn it.

Your life force is being drained studying with that feathery nerd and you don’t even have a good grade to show for it. 

You stand like a statue, flipping through the pages one after another. The small, polite X’s (how are X’s polite?), circles, and underlines are scattered everywhere. You got so many partial marks that were definitely undeserved; you don’t even think the 72 is accurate.

You don’t even realize Miss Alphys called another name until you feel a looming presence behind you.

Embarrassed, you crumple the paper to your chest and glance over your shoulder.

Kris. 

Your mood somehow sours even more. 

They don’t say anything. They just sorta… stare. At you. 

You barely attempt to hide your disdain as you shuffle to the side, letting them pass. You probably look like an idiot, standing barely a foot away from the two as Miss Alphys hands them their test. You just want to see the–

94%. Yeah. Exactly what you expected.

You scurry away, back to your seat, ignoring Berdly’s pestering and grubby feathers trying to paw at your test. You hand it to him to get him to shut up.

You watch Kris stride back to their seat, but you conveniently glance at your desk when they meet your eye. 

A paper swish is heard from behind you, right before a gasp.

“What?! A 94?! What are you, a nerd?”

You can somehow hear the shrug.

“You studied just as much as me!”

“...Nothing?”

A laugh. “Nada.”

“Maybe you got perfect,” they gesture to the garbage can. “Only one way to find out.”

A pencil case is lodged across the room, bashing the side of the can and tipping all the papers onto the floor. “Eh, guess we’ll never know. Hey, think if I erase your name on this one, Alphys’ll give me the mark?”

“Number seven!”

Right. That’s you, according to Berdly. 

He’s waving your test in your face, mark blatantly out in the wild for everyone to see.

You cringe. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that placement after that test.”

“Ah, but to achieve top status such as myself is unrealistic for a simple normalton like you! Tsk…”

He starts going off about how he’s admirable and he pities average folk such as yourself. Or something. You’re not really listening anymore.

Your distaste for smart people grows exponentially everyday.

Berdly’s the smartest in the class, by far. At least he acts like he is. That’d mean something if it weren’t him. Despite that, you can’t help but not hate him as much as you probably should. 

He helps you with everything. Your homework, studying, assignments. Well, if ‘helps’ means ‘reprimand you for everything you do wrong and give unwarranted and unwanted sympathy’. You’ll strangle him. Someday. 

Despite being what you’d consider runner up (maybe even tied for first), Noelle’s not nearly as annoying as her brainiac buddy. You’d like to consider her a friend, actually. When Berdly overlaps homework ‘dates’ by ‘accident’ (they’re not dates. And definitely not by accident) and you three end up in the library, you actually enjoy her company. She’s quiet, but kind. 

And then there’s Kris.

…

Kris. 

God, do they make your blood boil.

There’s a difference between Berdly/Noelle and Kris. That being, Kris doesn’t try. And they do amazing.

How? You try, and you do awful. In comparison. Of course, you should never compare yourself to others, but it’s hard not to when all your efforts are being put to waste.

You don’t actually hate them. There’s just a mild, growing dislike for them that’s made ten times more obvious when they’re in slight proximity to you. But it’s not just because they’re naturally smart, talented, maybe a bit charming–

But, there’s the little things too.

Like the way they look at you. Especially when you’re with Berdly.

It’ll be minutes before class; they’ll arrive fashionably late or on the dot, not that you’re paying attention, and their gaze just lingers on you for a second longer than anyone else. You’ll be ‘listening’ to blue boy spew what you’d consider nonsense, but you’d look up out of instinct from the door being opened. And do you know what kind of look they give?

The one that says damn, looks rough.

They’re so lucky they don’t have a study partner (folding the worksheets into a tower with susie doesn’t count). And the audacity to look down on you because you need one? The ego that human has is beyond this world.

And that’s not all. 

During work periods, when they’re not destroying the classroom with Susie, they’re napping. As if saying yeah, I get an extra two hours of sleep while you tried to pull an all nighter but passed out three hours in.

Sometimes you can feel their feet nudging your chair. Or hear their small, faint snores. Or the scratch of their black, chipped fingernails on their desk. Or–

And that’s not all!

They have the nerve to ask Noelle for pencils when Noelle is your designated pencil lender. It’s like they want to steal all her pencils so there’s nothing left for you–

…

Are you being petty?

Of course not! These are reasonable, realistic accusations to make about someone, especially with the ample amounts of evidence you have. 

They wish the worst for you, so you wish the worst for them.

Totally. 

~*•*~

It’s another day of group work. Miss Alphys had overexplained how she’d watched a show where teamwork created unity and had immediately zipped her mouth shut.

With groups of two and three, you’re with Berdly and Noelle. No surprise there, right?

Your teacher has given you chart paper that’s way too big for your desk, as well as mostly dried-up markers. Noelle has this really weird hack where she can instantly revive them, but it’s far too complicated for you to even bother trying to understand. 

Most groups actually don’t have functioning markers, so Miss Alphys seems to give up and says you can use pencil, too.

While Noelle and Berdly sift through their notes – arguing what parts are relevant for your group’s given topic (if arguing meant Noelle suggesting something and Berdly morphing it into his own idea) – you’re the writer.

You feel confident enough to go straight with marker, but Berdly insists you write it all with pencil first and trace over it later. Like a toddler. 

Okay. Sure.

A few minutes pass, and Noelle begins reading off what you need to write down. Easy enough.

You’re mindlessly listening, hand smooth and controlled to keep it neat, when you suddenly stop.

Because you’re not listening to Noelle anymore. She’s actually gone silent.

You’re listening to Kris, who’s standing right next to you.

Now you want to shield away like a toddler.

“Got a pencil?” They ask effortlessly.

Damn pencil stealer.

Noelle nods. “Oh– yeah. Just let me… find my–”

She’s twisting every which way, searching for her pencil case, but you remember clearing the tops of your desks to make way for the chart paper. 

She’s not going to find it, is she?

You don’t bother keeping up with the conversation, turning Noelle’s laptop to view the notes she’s highlighted; the ones she was reading to you. Kris is still as a statue, but you can feel the heat radiating from their body.

Ew. Is that creepy to think?

…

You’re a bit skittish now.

You will your hand to stop shaking as you continue writing. 

Another minute goes by. It’s the longest minute of your life. Even Berdly’s telling Noelle to give up, piled under stupid gamer metaphors. 

But Kris isn’t leaving.

…

Fine! 

They win this time.

You stop writing mid-sentence, stretching your arm to jab the pencil towards their face. 

“Just let them have this one, Noelle.”

She seems a bit confused as to why you’re talking to her, but gesturing to them. You’re not too sure either! All you know is you’d much rather talk to her than them. 

They seem to give a face of slight doubt from the way Noelle reassures them. “It’s fine, Kris! We can just use the marker.”

“No, we cannot!” Berdly argues. But it’s too late.

Kris’ digits wrap around the wood, barely brushing your own. You can’t help but notice they’ve got chilly fingers–

Not important.

The marker calls to you now. Even if Berdly shrieks otherwise.

~*•*~

So you tried pulling another all nighter. Chugged half a carton of milk because you thought that since milk typically goes in coffee, there has to be some sort of energy boost associated with it. Didn’t work. Kinda stupid too, considering one google search would’ve told you it does the exact opposite. But it wasn’t warm, so you thought it’d be different. Like a reverse sleep agent. It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t.

Not only is your neck sore from awkwardly passing out over your desk, but you’re also going to be late. Well, you are late.

You’ve never sped down the halls like this before. There’s only a few kids still chatting, uncaring of the warning bell, but most of them are gone. 

It’ll be fine, you ration as your bag nearly falls off your shoulder. One last quick turn, and–

“HuuAH–”

You slam into someone as you cut the corner, letting out the most unattractive sound imaginable; a mix between a huh and an ah. Something falls on the floor, but you’re too distraught to look down.

You’re about to slap your palm to your mouth out of embarrassment, but you realize your back leg lost its footing. You’re falling backwards. Quickly.

Your arms flail behind you as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

This is gonna hurt. Bad.

Brace brace brace–

Brace…?

…

You’ve stopped falling.

But you don’t feel the bruising impact…?

There’s two hands on your shoulders, righting you to your feet. They’re soft, but stable. You shiver when the coolness seeps through your clothes. 

There’s a breath on your cheek, a warm contrast to their palms. You feel so close, you can’t help but creepily take a sniff. They smell sweet. Like apples. And pine. There’s something so familiar about it, but you can’t put your finger on it.

And you kinda just… want to keep breathing it in. Bottle it. You’d love to smell something so… pleasant every morning–

“You okay?”

Your eyes burst open. You may have gotten an aneurysm.

Of course, your knight in shining armour is none other than Kris. 

Their grip on your shoulders loosens, but you’re very aware of the fact that they don’t step away. It seems like they’re almost scanning you. You nearly twitch.

Then, they…

…mutter your name as a question.

Oh.

You squint your eyes in confusion. In… disbelief?

You don’t think you’ve ever heard them say it before. 

…

And you hate how much you want to hear it again. 

Their voice doesn’t sound as monotone and mumbly up close. Just soft. Very soft, from the way their tongue wraps around your name like a prayer–

Nope. Keep moving!

With such a confession now being buried into your very soul for no one to hear, you become acutely aware of how close you are. 

“I–” you stutter, tripping over your own feet to make some distance. “T-thanks! I mean, sorry–”

They barely react. You wouldn’t have noticed the slight raise to the corner of their lip if you weren’t staring so intensely at their face. It’s to show no weakness, you tell yourself.

And your eyes drift upwards, to their strikingly beau– average eyes. Red? Pshh. You see that… everywhere. Like, on… uh– that one… guy…

Bail. You’re being an idiot! Go. Now!

“Okay!” You grin like a maniac, swerving around them like a car in traffic.

You swear you hear a small chuckle as you round to your locker, making your eyebrows furrow automatically like some sort of rudeness detector. And you can’t have them thinking you’re some joke, so you snap into an immediate U-turn. Just to be met with an empty hallway.

That damn zombie ghost hybrid.

But your eye catches something on the surprisingly pristine floors. You can’t help but approach it; the shape being all too familiar.

It’s a pencil.

Kris’ pencil.

~*•*~

You try not to think about the fact that you know this is Kris’ pencil and not Noelle’s, because that’s sorta creepy, right? Noelle’s pencils are always themed (Christmas, of course), perfectly sharpened, and in peak condition. You never believe she’s ever used any of the pencils she’s lended you because they look so fresh.

This pencil? It’s atrocious.

There’s nothing horribly wrong with it, like, for example, Susie’s pencils (which are usually snapped in half, chewed to oblivion, and found on the ground). It just looks very used. Which is unbelievable, considering you’ve never seen them use it ever. Not that you’re keeping track.

It’s got no eraser; the ferrule was squeezed to push as much of the remaining eraser out as possible. That might be a bite mark? The orange paint’s been scraped off the edges. The lead end is dull and the grey colour has smudged onto the wooden tip.

Also, what kind of maniac brings nothing but a beaten up pencil to class, courtesy of their pant pocket? You’d think with a mother like Toriel, they’d be swimming in school supplies. Y’know, like a pencil case? 

You spin it between your fingers.

Why’re you still holding it? Why didn’t you just leave it on the ground?

Why’re you even debating what to do with it? Throw it out.

You brush your thumb along the chipped paint. You’re touching something that belongs to Kris. You’re touching a place that Kris’ fingers have definitely touched. And that shouldn’t make your neck heat up the way it just did. 

You pause. 

You hold the pencil to your nose and sniff. Of course it doesn’t smell like apples, you creepy idiot. 

~*•*~

Susie’s been in the bathroom for thirty minutes. 

Kris watches Alphys scurry back and forth in the front of the classroom, nervously debating what to do next. “I d-don’t understand what she might be… doing i-in there that would take this long. I-is she okay?”

“Maybe she FELL IN! HAHA!”

No one graces Snowy with anything. Not even a cough.

“W-well… I can’t– shouldn’t leave a student u-unattended for this long. It’d be nice if a-anyone would volunteer to s-search for her–”

Berdly leaps onto your desk dramatically. “Worry not, Miss Alphys! I shall find the wretched beast, only tamable by a valiant knight such as myself!”

Your notes, which Berdly currently plants himself on, fly to the floor like leaves when he bolts into the hallway. They witness you groan, clutching your face in your hands. 

“...He knows he’s not a-allowed in the girl’s bathroom… right?”

Noelle almost instinctively rises. “I’ll, um, watch over him, Miss Alphys. And find– S-susie.”

Noelle’s face turns beet red as she dashes after him, closing the door much more smoothly than Burghley. They ignore how the rest of the class resumes chatting, resting their head on their desk. It’s weirdly loud, especially with the two most noisy people absent.

Susie barely looked conscious before asking to go. They think she was half asleep, likely intending to leave the walls of the classroom and not return. Wherever she is, she’s not coming back. 

Their eyes close, almost perfectly comfortable, when they feel something brush against their leg. 

They lift their head, immediately met with your very stiff back. You’re really still. Probably not breathing. 

They lean back to glance at their feet. One of your pages rests perfectly on their shoe. Without thinking, they pinch it between their fingers and scan it on their lap. 

It’s just some random worksheet Alphys assigned to them a few days ago, marked courtesy of Berdly. They can tell by the obnoxiously long pointers and tiny checkmarks, as if embarrassed to say you did something right.

They always wondered why you bothered with him. Why not go to Noelle? She’d be a much better tutor; much more uplifting, helpful, useful. Anyone would be a better option.

Hell, even Kris would be a better option.

They mindlessly poke you with the corner of your worksheet, half-assedly trying to get your attention. You tilt your head back just enough to make slight eye contact. 

“You dropped this,” they offer.

And there’s just something about your eyes. The way you looked at them in the hallway when you bashed into them. The way you’re looking at them right now.

They’ve never talked to you before. Not once, not until yesterday. And they barely said anything.

Yet, you’re looking at them like you’re looking at nothing but them.

There’s something that swells deep within their chest. Makes them feel weird. Warm. A bit uncomfortable.

You never used to look at them like this before. You always seemed in a constant state of pissed off. Not that they really cared; it was none of their business. 

It wasn’t until the test scores came in, and you followed a similar pattern. You’d very unsubtly glance at their percent and scoff like they’d just insulted your entire family. That’s when they realized your mood was specific to them.

Again, they didn’t really care. You can feel whatever you want. They won’t stop you. 

But now, they talk to you once – randomly, in a scene straight out of some sappy romance movie – and your entire persona’s been flipped. 

You somehow seem even more uncomfortable. But not a bad uncomfortable; like a flustered uncomfortable. They’re not sure if it’s better or worse. 

Did they make you feel weird when they caught you? Should they have just let you fall? Probably.

They’re still holding the sheet, arm getting a bit tired from supporting itself. They have to rustle the sheet, just slightly, for you to snap out of whatever daze you’ve put yourself in and take the paper with a squeaky thank you.

You twist awkwardly, facing the front once again. Eventually, you seem to refocus, sorting your papers in some intricate, over-the-top way Berdly probably taught you.

They realize they’re still staring at the back of your head when you itch it thoughtfully. You’re talking to yourself; planning out your thought process for the next problem, mumbling small quips to the comments Berdly wrote in your feedback (stuff they doubt you’d ever say to his face)...

They have to stop themself from straight up laughing at one of them. Only so their classmates don’t think they’re crazier than they’ve already presented themselves to be.

It feels almost magical the way they’re able to tune out everything around them and listen to your commentary. 

They barely register their eyes closing. They’re too busy focused on the smile etched into your voice. 

~*•*~

It’s been a few long days of unbearable work periods, pretending to do the worksheets you’ve all been assigned by Miss Alphys (you’re three pages behind). You were going to catch up at home, but that’s been a disaster, too. There are so many ample distractions that have kept you from even starting. Like the texture of the carpet. Or Kris’ pencil– not Kris’ pencil. 

Okay. Maybe you’ve been glancing at it every once in a while from where it sits in your pencil holder. Maybe you’ve used it once or twice, despite the lead being actual ass cheeks. 

What is wrong with you? Nothing even happened!

Did feeling their stupid hands on your shoulders and being close to their face really do that much? You don’t even like Kris! You’d be happier in the kindergarten class!

…

You’re jealous of their natural academic talent. You know that; you’re not that much of an egomaniac to think otherwise. But… maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it always has been.

Maybe deep down, you actually… admire… Kris. For being so stupidly effortlessly smart. Eugh.

And maybe you just needed a small excuse to indulge in your admiration. Like getting a good look at their face. 

Not that it matters, anyways!

A small admiration for a fellow classmate. You admire Noelle, too! No different! You admire many people. Maybe even Berdly!– okay not Berdly.

It’s. No. Different. 

You’ll return the pencil tomorrow. 

You’re not even sure why you’re giving it back. You just don’t want to stare at it anymore. It’s just a reminder of the lack of effort they put into everything. Which is totally rubbing off on you, considering the absolute flunk you’ve found yourself in.

So the next day comes. And your hands are way too sweaty.

You’re a punctual ten minutes early, for some reason. Definitely not a good idea, considering now you’ve got ample time to just think about how to do this.

“Hey, you left your pencil on the ground a week ago and I kept it and wanted to give it back–”

No. Too much info.

Should you lead with something?

“Hi Kris. How was your weekend? Oh? That was days ago? Oh? I’m being weird? No! This is how I always act–”

…

Why’re you trying to explain yourself?

How about…

“Here. You dropped this.”

Solid, straight to the point, easy. Done. Okay. Okay.

The bell rings. Thankfully, Berdly has occupied himself with Noelle (sorry, Noelle. Valiant sacrifice). But Kris is nowhere to be seen. 

Another ten minutes pass. Nothing.

Miss Alphys is about to take attendance, waiting extra long in case more people show up, when Susie busts through the door, Kris not far behind her. They both look a bit… battered. Small scratches litter their hands, some on their faces.

“Kris! S-susie, you’re b-both here.”

“Yeahh, we had to ward off the leftover raccoons. Just don’t know when to quit. Would’ve definitely followed us into the school.”

The class goes silent. You can barely hear Noelle giggling to herself. 

“...R-raccoons?”

“What? You’ve never seen ‘em behind the school? Near those big bins?”

Miss Alphys breaks into a sweat. “You mean… you and Kris were… d-dumpster diving?”

“Eh, more like dumpster rummaging. Diving is for the weekends.”

Susie waltzes to the back, leaving behind a very… interesting odor. Like a mix between old school lunches and paint. It’s not pleasant whatsoever. 

Miss Alphys eyes their cuts. “D-do you need to see the school nurse?”

“Nahh, we’ll be fine. Right, Kris?”

Kris, who’s still standing at the doorway, nods with a quick yup and moves to take their seat.

You can’t help but eye them intensely, bracing yourself for the same odor. But it never comes.

They radiate the smell of fur. Not like wet dog, rotting grass type of fur. But like a cat, where you know they haven’t taken a bath in months but their self-cleaning makes them smell like an odd flower anyways. And, of course, apples. Sweet, sweet apples. 

They stare at you as they approach. Then, they glance at Berdly. Then back at you.

Wow, they’re good at holding a stare. You’re sure you could cook an egg on your face. 

You grip Kris’ pencil harder in your lap, immediately pretending your eraser is the most interesting thing in the world. 

You take a deep breath as they pass you. Yeah, furry apples.

Miss Alphys announces what you already know; it’s another work period for the upcoming test. This unit is more self-taught, anyways, which is both good and bad. Good because you have more time in class to work, bad because the self-taught aspect is usually replaced with Berdly-taught.

Susie immediately gets Kris’ attention with a flying eraser (likely meant to hit them but instead it skims your cheek and hits Berdly square in the head), commenting on how badass their scars look.

Okay. Before they both somehow find another excuse to leave, you need to do it. Now. 

Just turn around.

Your body stiffens up.

C’mon! Just pretend you absolutely hate their guts like you did before.

You brace yourself.

Do you turn slowly? Or quickly? What if you scare them? Oh, who are you kidding. You couldn’t scare them even if you tried.

You turn. You can feel how awkward you probably look.

Susie’s the first one to notice you, since she’s facing you. You’ve never seen her look so confused before. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice dies in your throat when Kris notices Susie’s perplexed expression and turns to the culprit.

Yeah. 

Susie’s right. They do look badass with all those scars.

Shut up. You wish you could just stop thinking.

Kris never shows any emotion, ever. Which is why you’re so shocked when you watch their eyes widen, just slightly. 

“Hi,” you wince at your shaky voice.

“Hi,” they echo.

You’re staring. 

“You–” you clear your throat awkwardly. “You dropped this?”

Why’d you say it like it was a question?

As if there was a delay in your actions, it takes you a second to realize you need to give Kris the pencil you’ve been gripping so hard it might snap. So you stiffly offer it, acutely aware of your moist palms and probably moist pencil.

They watch it as if they don’t trust it– don’t trust you. They just got here; they’re probably wondering when the hell they dropped it. Explain yourself!

“It’s yours,” you say stupidly, as if that wasn’t already implied. “You dropped it a few days ago–”

No! That’s exactly what you weren’t supposed to say!

Your mouth clamped shut. Their expression doesn’t change one bit; they’re giving you a poker face. Y’know who’s expression does change?

Susie’s.

She gives you an incriminating, almost knowing smile. You want to crumple in your seat. 

“A few days ago? You couldn’t have given it back earlier?”

And you do the worst thing you could’ve done. You launch into defense mode.

“Well, okay, but returning a pencil isn’t exactly at the top of my priority list. I have tests to study for and homework– And I was going to, but class has been busy, and I’ve been busy, and I’m sure you’ve been busy… with…”

You insinuate to the whole dumpster diving thing.

“Hey, Kris?” She gets their attention, playful mockery dripping in her tone. She gestures to the pencil now in their hand. “How long’d that take? Three seconds?”

Yeah, she has a fair point.

You’re about to debate between cowering under Kris’ intense glare or give another stupid excuse that Susie of all people could probably pick apart, when the screeching caw of a bird catches your attention.

He didn’t actually caw. Though, it did sound like it. 

“Don’t busy yourself with the lower class when I’ve already maxed out my level of genius.”

You’ve never taken a Berdly beckoning so quickly before.

You give an almost manic smile to the most blank face you’ve ever seen. “Okay have fun!” Have fun? “Bye!”

Totally taking the chicken route, you scoot your chair further from the pair and way closer to the front. You can feel both their eyes stabbing you from behind.

Berdly seems unimpressed but ultimately (some form of) proud of you for being beckoned like a dog. Noelle, who’s sitting next to you by proxy, would have stars in her eyes if this were a cartoon.

“You were talking to Susie?” She leans forward, just slightly. “What were you talking about? What was she saying? Did she say anything funny?”

Your eyes gravitate to the chalkboard and you start to zone out, trying to calm your heartbeat and reduce the heat from your face. But a voice cuts through your rushing thoughts.

“Hey Kris. I think you have an admirer.”

Your eye twitches. You turn just in time to see Susie punching Kris’ shoulder and laughing. But Kris isn’t laughing.

Their eyes are on you. And you can make out just the faintest flush on their cheeks.

You feel all your hard work go down the drain as your face heats up again. 

Damn it.

~*•*~

You’ve never felt so hyper aware in your life. It’s like everything you do now has an ulterior motive.

You used to be so on top of everything you did. Not that you were amazing at it; that’s what Berdly is for. You’d scooch your chair just enough to reach his desk (but far enough to keep your much needed distance), sitting on either side of him. Now, you sit in front of him.

Why? Because it gives you a good view of Kris. And a good view of the rest of your classmates. That’s the important part! It’s about knowing your competition.

Not that it really matters, of course. You’re here to work diligently and efficiently. 

Berdly’s showing you some random function and what pieces of the graph correlate to what parts of the equation. It’s covered in a bunch of gamer lingo, but he’s ‘trying’ in his own way. You’re nodding along to him, a bit too focused on pretending to pay attention for you to actually process anything he’s saying. 

Oh well. Looks like you’re skimming decade-old YouTube videos for tutorials later. 

If you start listening now, you won’t understand a thing. It’s like jumping midway into a book; there’s no context for what the hell’s going on. And God forbid you use any intuition skills to piece together what he’s saying. The reason you’re sitting here with him is because you have none.

Plus, you’d rather look conveniently behind him at a certain duo. 

Kris has turned their chair to face Susie, so all you see is their brown tuft of hair. From where you’re sitting, you can barely peak over their shoulder to view the array of stuff on her desk. They’ve got pencils, crayons, pencil crayons, and chalk (ironic) that’re nearly rolling off the edge.

Susie whispers something as she continues dumping more drawing material from the plastic bag she got from who knows where, Kris nodding in confirmation.

They subtly scan the class – an action you’d likely not notice if you weren’t ogling – twisting their body uncomfortably. 

You seem to make eye contact much more frequently as of late.

Their eyes linger on you, just enough for you to see their eyes poking through their bangs. 

You really like their eyes. Yeah, you’ll admit it now. Do all humans have red eyes? Or is Kris just apple-themed?

And they smile at you. It’s a small one, sure, but is anything Kris does anything more than small?

They quirk their head, like a cute bird. They’re probably so confused as to why you’re resting your chin against your palm, sighing like some corny schoolgirl staring at her crush. 

For some reason, the shame leaves you when you ogle at them.

And it returns tenfold when they break eye contact. 

Oh wow, you’re such a loser.

You follow where they’ve set their eyes – on a certain teacher who’s engrossed in the school computer, watching something she’d probably immediately alt+tab from if someone snuck up on her. May or may not (definitely may not) be school related.

They seem to get all the confirmation they need, slipping their hand against their leg, pulling something out of some mysterious pocket that you can’t make out. It isn’t until they lay it on the desk when you realize it’s a knife.

Susie seems to raise an eyebrow unamused, not nearly as shocked as she should be. She nods as they grip it confidently and start… scraping the crayons to make fine powders.

Huh.

You figure they’re doing something stupid, so you try to tune back into Berdly’s explanations. After about three seconds, you realize you don’t have the energy, so you end up zoning out for a bit.

Miss Alphys gave a new worksheet today, so you definitely need to catch up on that. The one Berdly’s going over is yesterday’s worksheet, on which you got half the questions wrong. No need to panic; you have all of tonight to figure out the logic.

There’s also the one before that. You can probably squeeze that one in tonight too. There’s also that workbook she handed out a while ago. Apparently Berdly claims some of the questions are of your ‘skillset’, so maybe you can fit those in sometime tomorrow. Work periods aren’t exactly work periods for you anymore, moreso tutoring sessions that you don’t think are useful in the moment, but actually end up helping you on the homework.

Doesn’t make them any more fun to sit through, though–

Berdly stopped talking. Oh no. 

Did he notice? No, no. He’s not looking at you. 

You follow his spiteful gaze to Susie, who’s planted herself right next to Noelle’s desk; hands in her pockets, leaning back casually. On instinct, you glance over to Kris. They’re already pinning you down with their eyes; the raise of their eyebrows is a clear oh crap. 

“–and it’ll be cool. Trust,” you hear Susie finish.

Noelle’s definitely too busy listening to her voice to understand a word she said.

“Oh– huh?” Something clicks in the deer’s head, cheeks glistening red. “It’s not mine. But I can get mine from my locker? If… you want?”

Nevermind. She heard something. What’s not hers?

“Nah, it’s fine. Who's this, anyways?”

Curse your eavesdropping addiction. What’re they talking about?

Then Noelle says your name, gesturing to you like it’s the funniest thing in the world, still staring at Susie.

Your what? Your what?

You’re already sweating and you don’t even know what’s happening. 

You blindly stare up at Susie, who’s already inspecting you like fresh meat.

Berdly squaks, flailing his arms around animatedly. “I’m afraid not, Susan! I have claimed ownership over the water, as I own the owner who therefore has ownership over it!”

“What does that even mean? You don’t own me,” your eyebrows furrow. At least that clears up what she wants.

Despite that, Susie still decides to ask you directly.

“Hey. We’re doing– uh, a science project. And we–” Something clicks in her head and she grins villainously. You don’t like it. 

“Kris needs your water for it. Mind lending a hand? Er, a bottle?”

You freeze. Berdly’s about to say something more, so you squeeze his beak shut. 

One glance at Kris reveals they’ve turned back around, facing away from you. They’re scraping more aggressively than before, from the looks of their quick arms.

“C’mon,” Susie offers an all-too-friendly smile. You’re unnerved. “We’ll give it back faster than you gave back Kris’ pencil–”

Okay! That’s enough of that!

“Sure!” You announce, snatching your water bottle from Noelle’s desk and shoving it in her face, hoping to shut her up.

Susie seems pleased you’ve agreed, but there’s something else in her eyes. A glint of mischief.

“Wait one sec.”

She smoothly spins to face Noelle once again, now mumbling something you can’t make out. Noelle seems beyond flattered for some reason, proceeding to offer Susie her entire pencil case and the few pencil crayons scattered across her desk with an ecstatic smile.

Coming back to you, she shrugs. “Actually, could you bring it over for me?” She gestures to her newly acquired materials. “Hands are full.”

You squint your eyes. “Just put the pencil crayons in the case, man.”

“Can’t get the zipper,” she’s already begun walking away. “Hands are full.”

You sigh, a bit more dramatically than you actually feel, and release Berdly. You ignore when he starts going off and follow Susie. 

She’s just about sat down when Kris starts talking, and you register you’re not on your A-game when you realize you’ve been duped. Your realization comes through the squeeze in your chest at the sound of their voice.

“I was trying to tell you that wasn’t–” they notice Susie’s not holding the water bottle. You are. And their voice dies, just a bit. “–Noelle’s.”

You’re still standing. They have to tilt their head up to look at you. You feel your stomach churn at their expression.

Their expression.

You want to dissect it. There’s so much and yet so little to see. 

Shock, confusion, amusement, something else. Something else. What is that? 

…

You don’t think you’ve blinked for a minute.

You feel so unbelievably pinned to the spot. Is it bad you kinda like it?

Susie’s the one to clear her throat, reminding you that you’re still alive and here with a purpose.

“Right,” your voice is hoarse. You lift the bottle in your hand. “What’s this for, again?”

It’s only then when you notice the giant accumulation of rainbow powders that sit in the center of the desk, all the corpses of school supplies circling around it like some insane campfire.

You can hear the smile in Susie’s voice. “Told you. Science experiment.”

She dumps the rest of Noelle’s hoard in front of Kris, who immediately gets to work. They glide the blade effortlessly along the tips of the pencil crayons; thumb controlling the movement. You’re maybe staring just a bit too hard at their hands–

“Do you think this’ll explode?”

Kris shrugs. “Hopefully.”

You let out a laugh before you can stop yourself.

They’re trying to hide it, but you can make out the small squiggle of their mouth turning upwards.

It takes about a minute, but Kris has gone through about three quarters of Noelle’s stuff. Susie told them not to completely ruin the supplies, to which Kris raised an eyebrow at. Susie made up some random excuse about it being someone else’s property and Noelle will give her shit for it, but you can’t help but jokingly scoff internally. That fact never stopped her before.

You’re still stupidly standing next to Susie’s desk like you’re lost. You don’t realize you’re getting a bit tired until you start fidgeting, switching between each foot.

Susie notices. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, I’m just–” you adjust again, tilting slightly to rest your hip on the desk. “Yeah.”

She, to your surprise, picks up on context clues, and you can just see something formulating in her brain when she peers at Kris, then you.

She tips back, as if she’s about to say the most casual thing in the world. 

“Just sit on Kris’ lap. They’re pretty much like that one dude– Santa Claus. Since they radiate jolliness and positivity. Y’know, especially with the knife.”

It’s a joke. You can tell from the way Susie howls right after.

But you’re not laughing. You actually might pass out just thinking about it. Did you even hear the second half of that? Probably not!

Kris’ lap? Feeling their chest against your back? What if you start sliding off, and they have to wrap their arms around your stomach– 

You brush your hand against your cheek as if you were wiping something away, but you’re just trying to feel how hot you are. It’ll help you translate to how red your face is.

You don’t even notice Kris freezing, too. Their movements, still as a pond. 

You’ve now decided the ceiling is very fascinating; all those indents, oh wow! Is that a stain? You’d crawl into the vents if you could!

“What?” Susie sneers, defending herself against Kris’ probably violent stare. “I’m just tryna help!”

They brush their sleeve against their face, trying to rub the colour off their cheeks.

Oh, and you’re staring again. 

The colour’s just so entrancing. You’ve never seen Kris truly off their guard. 

It’s… really cute.

But there’s something else. They’re thinking. Hard. Smoke coming out of their ears, rusty gears turning, all of it.

They’ve decided something, and so you wait.

Kris shuffles, sitting so they’re hanging off their chair, leaving half of it vacant–

Oh.

Oh no.

“Sit,” they pat the empty half once, then return to scraping with their knife. 

Susie’s got a hand over her mouth, not-so-obviously trying to hide her tear-inducing laugh.

Sitting next to Kris? And not in an oh we’re kinda close and maybe we’ll brush a bit– no. Like, flushed against each other. Spreading body heat. Not being able to look in each other’s general direction because you’ll end up nose-kissing–

Oh my God. 

You don’t want to deny them. That’s just rude, right? They offered. You’re not just accepting because you want to feel their sweater with your own hands. No.

You don’t bother saying anything, because your soul might leave through your esophagus if you open your mouth. 

So you scooch next to them, stiffly sliding until you’re just touching the chair. You might as well be squatting. 

But you didn’t give your legs a break from standing just to make them squat, right?

You scooch a bit more. You’re maybe a quarter on.

When their arm adjusts to get a better grip on their next victim, you feel them brush against your own. 

You swallow. It goes down very slowly. Very painfully.

Just rip the bandaid off. 

You usher yourself closer maybe a bit too fast, okay a lot too fast and you end up nearly slamming yourself into their side. They still.

…

They’re very warm.

Definitely not as warm as your malfunctioning body, but it’s really nice.

You try not to think about the fact that they’re still not moving. Was that too much? You’re thinking about it. You should just fling yourself to the floor and crawl under the tiles–

“You’re really warm,” they mumble, replicating your thoughts back to you like a mind reader. 

You’re on autopilot now. If you weren’t, you’d likely start laughing hysterically.

“Am I? Didn’t notice. Must be my natural insulation and heating unit.”

For some reason, your default is humor. But it worked, because they’re laughing softly.

They’re laughing.

You made them laugh. 

Oh, you need to hear them laugh again. Right now.

A voice interrupts your thoughts. To be honest, you forgot you were in the classroom.

“Better?” Susie asks with an incriminating smile. “That was painful to watch.”

You’re not sure why, but you feel more confident now. “Hey. I’m the one with the water, remember? Don’t insult me unless you wanna cancel the science fair.”

“Of course. Sorry, boss.”

Kris shakes their head to themself as you and Susie start to bicker. You notice them switch hands after nudging your side one too many times; your curiosity starts to spiral.

Oh, they’re mixed handed!

…

That would’ve pissed you off a week ago.

It doesn’t take long for Kris to finish scraping the last bits of pencil crayon. They both begin forming the collection of powder into a giant mountain, as if this was just a part of the plan. You don’t question it. Out loud, anyways.

While Susie creates a little divot in the top, Kris turns expectantly to you. Which would’ve been fine (it wouldn’t, you would’ve cowered under their gaze anyways) if they weren’t an inch from your face. 

“Then you pour it on top,” they instruct, as if this proximity was completely normal and okay.

The movement makes your eyes zone in on their lips. You didn’t mean to! It’s just– eyes naturally gravitate to change!

And they notice. Oh boy do they notice.

You thought they turned red before? This time, their ears burst into flames. They’re somehow able to stop it from spreading, but it concentrates right across their cheeks and nose.

You applaud them for their self-control; you probably look like you just ran a marathon. Maybe the rest of your body will shut down from all the blood leaving it and rushing up your neck.

Once you calm down just a tad, you’re left identifying every shade of red in their eyes. Your self-control has left alongside your dignity. 

You’re an actual idiot. You wanna know why? It’s such a stupid thought. 

Do you want to know what your first thought is?

…

I really

want to 

lean in 

right now.

…

“Ahem.”

You both immediately break away. You might’ve gotten whiplash from the way your head snaps in the opposite direction.

Susie nearly cries your name from how much she’s holding it in, but she keeps her composure.

“You’re up,” she clutches her mouth like she’s about to throw up.

Your hands quiver as you uncap your water bottle, splashing just a bit too much water into the divot due to your pumping adrenaline. It pours over the edge like a volcano.

Susie instantly gets to work mixing it all like some sort of messed up baking concoction. The water becomes discoloured, staining her hands in the process. 

Speaking of hands, Kris is suffocating their knife in a death grip. Might kill someone, actually.

Stop staring at their hands.

“What’s with the bottle, anyways?” Susie peeps at you for a second, then back to the concoction.

You raise an eyebrow, clearing your throat. “What about it?”

“Why’s it on Noelle’s desk?”

“Oh,” you sigh, as if expecting something much worse than that. “Because there’s no space on Berdly’s.”

“‘No space’?”

“Worksheets,” you answer simply.

Susie fake gags. “Gross.”

“Yeah. We’re going over stuff from the last unit. Apparently, you need stuff from that to understand stuff from this.”

Susie already looks confused. “Don’t look at me, I don’t even bother with that stuff.”

“With school?”

You give the obvious answer, but she takes the opportunity to jab at you anyways. “With Nerdly.”

“He’s making you do more than you need to.”

For some reason, Kris’ voice surprises you.

(And not just because they’re pretty much caressing your eardrum with their voice.)

“How so?”

“Don’t do every worksheet we’ve ever done. Just do the important ones.”

You cross your arms, ignoring how it brushes theirs slightly. “And how am I supposed to know which are important if I don’t know any of it?”

“You won’t know asking Berdly. Ask Noelle.”

“Noelle?” You instinctually glance at Susie, who’s become very focused on squishing the soggy powder into a ball. “Like hell her mom would ever let me come over to study one-on-one. She barely knows me; I’ve talked to her, like, twice. And it felt like she wanted to kill me with her gaze alone.”

They snort, and you remember you’re talking to Kris and you immediately smile like a giddy loser. 

God, what a pretty sound.

With the dusting of red on your cheek bones, you continue. “And plus, we’re not like that.”

Susie’s attention is immediately brought back. “Oh? And you’re ‘like that’ with Berdly?”

“I wish. Maybe then he’d stop slyly calling me an idiot.”

She wheezes as she finishes packing the wet powder into a tight ball. The colours have mended together slightly; now, it’s just streaked brown with swirls of rainbow. It’s kinda cool, actually. 

“What now?” You ask, for some reason, completely on board with whatever this is.

“Well, it didn’t explode. Y’know how every good science experiment ends with an explosion?”

You’re not exactly picking up what she’s referring to. Well, not until she stands, placing the ball in the center of her desk. Your eyes widen as she cracks her knuckles.

Susie clasps her hands together, not once hesitating before she slams her fists on the ball, 

You barely have time to shield your face.

Weird, rainbow-brown, sticky substance flies across the classroom. Either this stuff was made to be a projectile, or Susie’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for.

It’s coated the tiles, the desks (not just her’s, also the ones adjacent)…

It’s also all over your arms.

You try to shake the stuff onto the floor like a dog, but you halt when you feel shuffling next to you.

Kris seems to have just accepted their fate, bits of rainbow sludge coating their cheek.

You realize they’re snickering to themselves while Susie’s screeching on the floor, unintentionally rolling in the sludge that’s made it onto the floor.

You’re about to blame the dazed look on your face from the frankly toxic-smelling fumes.

…

Yeah, you think to yourself as some of their pearly whites peek through their lips. You could do this more often.

Their head turns when Miss Alphys starts gasping in confusion, but they forgot you’re both hip-to-hip. Face-to-face.

They quirk their head again with a smile, sludge dropping down their face.

But their smile vanishes.

Your hand’s started gravitating towards a large chunk.

You brush it off with your thumb before you realize what you’re doing.

And that thumb? The one that greedily caressed their warm cheekbone like some disgustingly sweet trope? It leaves behind a pink trail. Might be the colour smudge from the slime, but you swear their eyes are glistening.

Save face! Hurry!

“Sorry!–” You lean back, acutely aware of the decreasing surface area of chair you’re sitting on.

You’re falling– again!–

You try to grab onto the desk before your ultimate demise, but your hand slips right off from the water.

So, from your panicked state of mind, of course, you go for the next logical option: Kris. Digging your fingernails into their sweater, their eyes widen a fraction.

But you’re already falling, and your legs are tangling with the desk and with their own.

And you end up dragging you both to the floor.

They land on top of you with a crazy grin, and you think you might’ve passed out for a second. 

~*•*~

Yeah, the knife wasn’t a good look. And the mess. Who knew Miss Alphys even considered detention as a punishment? Not you, that’s for sure.

She wasn’t even that mad; more shocked, if anything.

And since both Susie and Miss Alphys considered you an accomplice, you got roped into it too. Probably well deserved.

It takes ten minutes of sitting in silence for your teacher to combust from the pressure – making up the excuse that you’ve all probably got places to be and families to get home to – allowing you to leave.

Susie all but bolts from her seat, shoving Kris’ head and not bothering to watch if they jolt from their nap or not.

They don’t.

…

Do you wake them up?

No, no. They need their sleep.

…

You wouldn’t have hesitated with the opportunity before all this.

You forget Miss Alphys is still in the room when she awkwardly clears her throat, breaking your attention from Kris (nothing new).

You hear them twitch. You make like susie and run.

The halls are cleared empty. You’ve seen stragglers of students, but it’s never been this dead before. It’s a bit creepy how silent it is.

You find yourself in front of your locker, legs having automatically pulled you here. You must’ve forgotten to lock your locker because the opened master sits on the hook, never having clicked in place.

Your heart drops.

Inside your locker sits a lone bottle of apple shampoo.

You twitch, mouth agape.

What the hell?

You try to hide the bottle like contraband, peering down each hallway for any witnesses.

Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it just feels… incriminating for some reason. 

Susie’s down one of them, standing next to Kris. She notices you, the bottle, and snorts. She looks as guilty and culpable as possible.

Is this?–

Kris follows her eyes, landing on the bottle you’re poorly hiding. They mirror your shock to the best of their monotone ability.

They slam their locker and immediately speed walk in the opposite direction. Susie’s not even trying to hide her amusement as she follows en suite.

Susie glances back and waves at you. “See you tomorrow, apprentice!”

You wait until she turns the corner to examine the bottle more closely.

Apple…

You pop the cap. Take a whiff.

You sigh from the familiarity. It smells really good.

It smells like…

Kris.

Yeah. That’s why it feels incriminating. 

…

Wait.

That means…

It can’t mean what you think it means, right?

But… what else could it…

…

Oh no.

It can only mean one thing.

One thing.

Kris knows you’ve sniffed them.

~*•*~

You’re practicing self-control.

Maybe the shampoo bottle was a bit of a wakeup call. You hope it’s that and not the approaching unit test. Actually, maybe that's more of a concerning motivation. 

Test. You need to do better on this test. Above an 80 at least. 

Which is difficult with this new hobby of yours. 

You’ve been flunking on quizzes, not even bothering to show Berdly due to the predicted reprimand you’d get. He might as well be your mother. 

The staring-at-Kris has died down. You still peek, because your restraint is that of a rubber band, and they almost always meet your eye immediately, even when you’re glancing at the back of their head. 

And they smile. No hesitation.

Not good!

You need them to… give you the finger, or something. No, that wouldn’t do anything. Susie gives you the finger all the time and you just laugh instead of scowl.

It’s like they know what they’re doing.

It’s like they want you to keep looking. 

No way.

Doesn’t matter. You need to stop zoning out and start listening to the beak yapping in front of you. Wait. Maybe that’s contributing to the issue.

You shuffle your chair to sit beside Berdly instead of in front of him. He’s too busy in his own head to notice. You’re getting odd flashbacks to when you’d sit like this before; when you’d purposely face your back to Kris.

It takes about five minutes for your composure to break.

You glimpse over, twisting your back enthusiastically.

They’re still for a second, but they peek, too.

Their lip curls upward.

Your head feels fuzzy.

Damn it!

~*•*~

Test day.

Alphys scrambled the seating arrangements, mostly to separate Kris and Susie, since they have a known record for cheating.

They’re sitting next to you. You look beyond terrified.

They almost want to comfort you, but wonder if that’s too much. It’s a test; it’s not that big of a deal. But they know you’re different. You think differently.

You’ve been acting differently, as of late. You haven’t reverted back to the hateful glances you used to give them, which is nice. They’re not sure why they think it’s nice.

But you’ve stopped staring as frequently. And it’s an issue for them. Is it bad they’ve gotten used to it? Is it bad that they like it?

They thought they did something wrong (stupid, right?), so they started smiling at you more often. Nothing seemed to be wrong; you still flush when they look at you. But then, you immediately revert back to your brainiac mode. Face forward, listening to Berdly.

They don’t like how the roles have reversed. Why’re they the one staring at your head?

Susie’s definitely noticed. Surprisingly, she doesn’t comment on it. Not that much, anyways.

Might be a silent apology after the shampoo. They were so ready to rip her to shreds.

…

They realize they’re studying you again. You don’t notice because you’re working through the test.

Right. Everyone’s started already. 

And ten minutes have gone by, their test white as snow. They haven’t even put their name.

Eh, they’ll be fine.

~*•*~

They pretty much finished their test in under an hour.

They don’t bother looking over anything, because that’s way beyond their energy levels right now (and all the time), so they prepare to hand it in. 

Berdly’s been triple-checking his answers, mumbling so loud Susie told him to shut up. Noelle’s just about finished, too. They can’t really see Susie from here, but she seems ready to hand in whatever she has and go home early.

But you? You’re stressed.

You’ve skipped half the questions, now working your way back through the ones that gave you trouble. They don’t blame you; some of the multiple choices were horribly worded. Nothing new, though.

Now you’re just blankly scanning your page, reading the words but not really reading them. 

They’re fondling with the pencil in their hand. The one you gave them. It’s technically theirs, but it feels different now. Just knowing you’ve touched it makes them shiver. 

…

They’re tapping the pencil on their desk before they realize they’re doing it.

It’s not exactly quiet, as the sounds of lead scraping on paper and pages being flipped kinda drowns it out. But you notice. You always notice.

They like how much you notice.

Your head hangs low as you offer them a quivering smile, almost saying I’m doomed.

One glance at a semi-busy Alphys makes up their mind.

They’re holding up a finger. You seem confused.

They phantom-write the letter B on their desk.

Your eyes widen. It clicks.

Yeah, they’ve been caught cheating with Susie, but they’ve also gotten away with it more often than not. Can’t be persecuted for the crime if you’re not caught, right?

You both follow the same pattern for the next ten minutes. You erase some of your circles to replace them with Kris’ answers. They wish they could tell you to not put that much faith into them. But from the gleaming look in your eyes, they wouldn’t have the heart to tell you so.

The written application questions are harder. At that point, they just lend you their calculator (disguised as friendly borrowing) with the answer displayed on the screen. You’re not stupid, you know the steps and the process to getting the right answer. They know that. 

Which is why they can’t help but break out into a toothless grin when your face lights up from getting a matching answer.

It’s probably not great to make you rely on them like this, but they can’t deny it makes them feel almost guiltily good. 

They stay with you until the bell rings, half the class already gone. 

They make sure to hand theirs in first – a minute or so ahead – to quell any suspicions Alphys might have.

All she does is give Kris her signature nervous grin and they leave, not sparing a single moment. The front doors funnel out the rest of the students. They let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. 

They barely realize you’re sprinting after them until they’re outside near the bike racks. 

You seem to still be running on adrenaline from the way you jump right into conversation.

“Oh my God, holy shit thankyousomuch. You don’t understand how unbelievably screwed I would’ve been if you didn’t– I would’ve aimed for a fifty, max. Passing would’ve been a luxury! I’ve just been really– out of it–”

They can’t help but ask. “Berdly being a pain in the ass?”

You’re over explaining, but they’d never stop you. “Surprisingly, no– well, not more than usual, hehe. I’ve just been tuning him out for some reason. I never used to do it– well, not this much. He’s just been too much for my brain to handle, y’know, ‘cause I’ve been spending so much time staring–”

You halt, blooming more red than before. Their heart squeezes.

“–at. Things.”

They’re definitely looking at you like you’re the most precious thing they’ve ever seen. You can’t seem to tell. 

You tilt your head curiously. They realize you’re waiting for them to say something.

Their mouth is moving before they can stop it.

“If you ever need a break from Berdly, I could…”

They trail off. Unintentionally. Accidentally. They’re too busy glancing at your lips.

But you get the jest.

You’re hopping from foot to foot. “You would?– Actually, yeah. That’d be– yeah. Great, I mean. After all that, I think I’d trust you more tenfold… I’d really like that, Kris.”

…

They’ve decided they love the sound of their name on your tongue.

~*•*~

“I was actually about to go to the diner. Grab a quick bite, probably start studying for the next test. Y’know, better safe than sorry,” you start to hesitate, fiddling with your fingers. “Would you… wanna come?”

You realize they’ve processed half the things you’ve said, with the oddest expression on their face.

“Yeah,” they sigh. “That sounds good.”

It’s almost…

Like–

They’re looking at you like they’re looking at nothing but you.

…

That’s what that is.

Is that how you look? When you look at them?

Wow, you…

…

You kinda look like an idiot.

In the cutest, most adorable way.

…

You’re also a liar. You weren’t supposed to go to the diner. You were supposed to meet Berdly in the library for another impromptu studying session.

But he’s been torturing you inadvertently for the past few years, he can wait a few hours.

He can wait.

~~~

ok believe it or not ive been in a writing flunk for like two years and apparently this is what happens when ch 3/4 drops. i had a few 'why am i giggling at my screen' moments when writing it, so thats something. anyways i really hope you liked it !!!

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

WAIT WHAT IF FOR THE TRIPLE TIME REBOOT AU,

Bill has outside knowledge too, that’s why he’s the all seeing eye… what if he’s the author of the show or the creator of Mystery Falls. And once he was trapped in his own show, he feels like it’s his right to take over, after all he made everything!

Ford is his main character, his pet, his thing.

Also why is this side character Mr. Mystery messing things up?! Why is Fiddleford’s wife gone rogue??

They were supposed to die!

How are they not dead yet?

Or maybe not he owner of the show itself but maybe like he helped with creation of ford. Like he added the plot line that Ford should be friends with the main villain Bill Cipher!

Ooh hmm. Alright.

Hmm. Hmmmmm.

Bill isn't the original creator, but he did write for the show and had a big hand in creating og Bill and Ford. He was never a huge fan of the light hearted comedy, wanting to take the show into a more serious direction, but was shot down, as this was a show aimed towards kids.

Right up until something happened to the og creator, and Bill was thrust into the driver's seat of the show, finally getting to turn the show the direction he wanted, use the ideas that had been thrown out.

Started with killing off Emma-May and kickstarting Fiddlefords descent into madness, turning the goofy monsters more threatening and adding actual consequences, crimes became more political and Ford failed to catch culprits, and Stan was killed off to cut off any support (plus Bill never liked the character. A secret twin? And it was Mr. Mystery? Uhh). The show become dark, ended terribly, and everyone blamed Bill for it.

Bill dies, gets reborn as Bill the triangle demon, and decides he'll 'fix' the show by making himself the main character, appearing more so that the 'camera' focuses on him, and the og ending becomes a happy one because he won.

Except there are three other time travelers here, only 2 of them know about each other, and all of them are working against him. Bill thinks him acting early is setting off a chain reaction to make Mr. Mystery more mobile, and is desperately trying to turn it back toward the edgy plot, while Ford thinks the same thing and is trying to twist it... not goofy, not grim, but a nice middle road.

Unfortunately Stan is not doing anything because of them. He's got several dart boards, a box full of prompts, and several new henchpeople to give him the wildest ideas possible, while Emma-May is now adding to the chaos through magic terror beasts and barely remembers the plot to begin with, or that she's married. They're the only two who know about each other and neither are working as a team. Emma-May just plops monsters in the city or sleuths them out for future monster making while barely mentioning things to Stan, meanwhile Stan is just stealing random science equipment and throwing them at her while they both make do with what the other is giving.

It's ruining the gritty vibes, and Bill hates it

[reverse-moon]

I really have fucking issues with PjSK shippers, and I'm not exempt from this as well because I do the same sometimes.

But like. People call AnHane, MinoHaru, KanaMafu, AkiToya, RuiKasa and like one other canon all because of how they act with each other. When literally, they miss some major points with the plots of the characters.

Haruka is Minori's Kamioshi. Whom she has had on a pedestal since the first time she saw Haruka on tv. Following that, she gets the chance to FUCKING INSPIRE her Kamioshi personally. I'd like to help clarify — MINORI LOVED IDOL HARUKA. AND IS LEARNING TO NOT PLACE THE IDOL HARUKA AS THE REAL HARUKA BECAUSE THEY AREN'T THE SAME ENTIRELY. And people who say she doesn't have any real reaction to men, you base that off of how Minori interacts with Akito and Tsukasa. BOTH OF WHOM she really isn't close to like the girls in her unit and school. Haruka too, MMJ hardly has in game male interactions, y'all can drop that as a reason for gay Minori canon. Please. If later theres an event with all guys and her, and it canonically takes her having to spend like every day of a month with them and she STILL doesn't seem close to the bois™, sure. Then you can use this as your evidence, but for now it's circumstantial at best and plain untrue at worst.

"An said she had a date with Kohane and that she loved her." Have you never said you had a date with a platonic friend before? Have you never told your friends you love them? Now, granted, the friend date thing is a little older, some of you youngins (joking) may not know that was a thing still back in the early 2000's. But like? If you haven't told your friends you love them, that's a lil sad (in my personal opinion, don't go getting yourself in trouble). I'd also like to mention, since then, any "i love you"’s in game have been altered to not say that because people took it the wrong way, so we missed out on a NeneEmu "I love you" like in EN bc of this.

"But KanaMafu is canon bc they live together and Kanade brings Mafuyu warmth and–” KANADE IS ALSO DEALING WITH THE IDEA THAT SHE IS THE ONLY THING MAFUYU TRUSTS TO KEEP HER ALIVE?! Which isn't wrong, to a degree, but like. Currently, neither of them are mentally ready for a romantic relationship. Mafuyu ESPECIALLY because of how being near her mother is a trigger and Kanade with her survivors guilt and saviour complex. It's not unhealthy, but they definitely are on the edge of it and that kinda goes for ALL ships with these two. INCLUDING MY FAVE MAFUEMU AND KANAEMU, but that's another story.

AkiToya is in the same fucking boat as AnHane, just because they're close as hell does not mean the word "partner" is a double meaning word for lover AND music partner. Just because they throw that word around a lot doesn't make it romantic. Y'all would be throwing a FIT if Akito was doing that with Kohane or An saying this, why does Toya instantly change that?

RuiKasa isn't canon, and despite what people say there is literally not even evidence to support this. KanaMafu, AnHane, MinoHaru... At least the direct evidence is actual in game things. Your proof is... Card art that is half out of context. "EMU5 RUI" THAT WAS LITERALLY NOT NEWS, WE ALL KNEW HE DID THAT THEY JUST CONFIRMED IT. "His hand was on Rui's arm tho—" YEAH, TO FUCKING STOP HIM FROM SHOVING VEGGIES ONTO HIS OWN PLATE?! Tsukasa and Rui shippers also tend to be EXTREMELY protective of their ship. I've seen them bully artists into leaving PjSK fan art behind, all because someone drew NeneKasa or happened to draw platonic Kasa and Emu. PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS. "Rui trusts Tsukasa so much and doesn't want to lose him, and Tsukasa is the same!" Seriously. Seriously. I am begging here for you to also remember that basically all of WonderShow dread the day they will disband so they can all pursue their personal dreams because they all collectively love each other and trust each other that much. We literally had an Emu event where they all admitted this. Please.🙏

I'm not saying you can't ship, cause it's ingrained in fandom. I'm not saying it's wrong to like the aforementioned ships, because it's not. I'm saying acting like people are misunderstanding a character because they don't see Minori as straight lesbian or Akito as straight gay (both of which, by the way, may not be illegal but they do make your life a little harder in Japan) is harmful and can literally push people away from wanting to ship or be in a fandom. And when a cast is this big, I get it, it's easier to avoid the ships you dislike. But I shouldn't have to feel like I'm STOMACHING SHIPS when I'm looking through a solo character tag either.

Do you know how often I keep trying to remind people (MYSELF INCLUDED) that the game won't put in ships unless it was with NPC's? Again, shipping is ingrained in fandom, it's just par for the course, but claiming to know canon that is AT BEST heavy accidental undertones is just annoying to see every other post about one character. And a pot of times, it overtakes an event (LOOKING AT YOU EMU5 RUIKASA FANS). And intense shoving that AxB is canon can actually make people hate characters for no reason. Same with making memes out of crackships (LOOKING AT YOU, AKIMAFU FANS).

Don't try to preach your ship as gospel unless it's actually explicitly canon. And even then, maybe take with a grain of salt.

[twilightichor]

𝐗𝐈𝐕. One of the things that I've been thinking about is the topic of wishes and how they're related to Jinhsi in a way that transcends the realm of simple, aleatory magic or pinned as a "stroke of luck". These definitions, at best, are the ways people have to describe occurrences in which they see with their own eyes wishes coming true. To put some context about why wish-granting isn't mere magic and it's fruit of Jinhsi's own effort at making wishes come true within her possibilities even if she isn't asked directly:

◜Perhaps it's due to the resonance with my host. Since I was young, I have had many dreams. In my dreams, there was often endless darkness. In my dreams, I was closely connected with the people of Jinzhou. I could hear everyone's most sincere wishes. I could also feel everyone's joys and pains. [...] I have seen the unwillingness and pain of millions. Sadness and sighs.◞ — First Appointment Radio Late Night Channel.

She's omniscient to people's feelings but also their wishes. This is an important point to determine the needs of her people and address these issues however she can. Sometimes, she will use festivities for this purpose in order to have a clearer vision of where to start as opposed to having thousands of wishes in a jumble easy to forget due to how many they are, such as the Moon Chasing Festival and people entrusting their wishes to the Moontree Lodge. It may come across as unfair sometimes for her to just be able to fulfill a few wishes, but there is as much as she can do without neglecting other needs in a much bigger picture that is the entire region of Jinzhou.

Nevertheless, it's important to note that her wish-granting activity is one of the main things that earned her people's trust in her to begin with, young as she was when she was appointed officially as the Magistrate. Even if this would mean to direct people's faith on Jué and not necessarily on her (hard as it might be to believe some of the things she does, it is her who does them through the power Jué shared with her up until their fateful clash), that alone would be enough to uplift people's spirits in knowing that Jué —through her— is with them. Until with time, they would realize that attributing these feats to Jué is a white lie not made out of malice, but strategically made so that people believe that wishes will indeed come true if they reach her, and that she will work to make them come true.

◜During a reconstruction event, the young magistrate performed a "miracle" known as "Sentinel Granting Wishes." The remote village had been plagued by weather anomalies for years. Even though the Tacet Discords had stopped, villagers still suffered from extreme cold and gloom. Jinhsi asked the villagers to voice their wishes. At first, silence hung heavy until a sneeze broke the silence. A timid voice then followed, "It's so cold… I wish it was a bit warmer here." Standing amidst the crowd, Jinhsi held a Loong Scale, closed her eyes, and nodded, "I will convey your wish to the Sentinel." Right after her words fell, loong horns sprouted from her head, and a Sentinel-like light pierced the dark clouds and the snow on the ground—just in an instant, the ice thawed, and the land once again sprang to life.◞ — Jinhsi story: Her Wish-Granting Magic.

[dennisboobs]

one day i'll post my fic and you can finally witness this monster of a playlist that fuels my insanity

[monicaalexandraaa]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay I am so in love with this !!!!! I could not wait until tomorrow to read it! I love how he immediately jumps right in. I totally understand her feeling overwhelmed and a little scared even but he’s really just such a sweetie and it makes the whole situation hilarious and amazing.

“Like proper madly in love with you. I just-I had to tell you before my heart exploded or something because that’s what it feels like right now-like I’m gonna explode if I don’t just tell you how much I love you. And I do you know? Love you. So much.”

I just kept imagining this whole scene in my head of this happening and it’s hysterical and I love it so much😆

“What’s wrong? Someone bothering you?” The way his voice goes deeper and has a rough edge to it has your heart doing a weird flip, he pulls you even closer to his side as his eyes continue to scan the crowd. You watch the way his eyes go darker and you have to shake off the oddly comforting feeling you get knowing this random man named Harry that you’ve known for five minutes looks as if he’s ready to murder anyone who dares to bother you.

He’s ready to go to bat for her and protect her and I’m obsessed. Like pls feel free to have your voice get deeper with that rough edge all the time thank youuuuu🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️

“Is that okay?” He asks in a worried tone as he helps you into the car, taking your tote bag from you after you slip the roller ball back into it. “God I’m already fucking this all up aren’t I? I’m sorry I swear-”

And him catching himself at times and immediately apologizing, worried he’s overstepping is soooooooooo sweet😭He’s so obsessed with her but still acknowledges that it’s a lot all at once and is considerate🥹🥹

“It beats for you-it’s yours just like everything else I have. It’s all for you because-because that’s how much I love you.”

I mean c’mon^ so dreamy🥺

I love how direct and honest he is. Even though it’s a lot at first he still makes it so easy for her to get in the groove of it and become comfortable😌it’s such a great mix of fluffy but also funny and entertaining.

YOUR SMUT IS SO GOOD! LIKE SO GOOD! LIKE WOW !

And I loved her little moments of confidence during it like “Okay Harry. Show me how perfectly made for each other we are.”🤩And when she says I love you back🥺🤭SO cute

The ending of this is so perfect. Him waking up off the intense high of it all and she’s been able to find that comfortability and connection with him so she’s worried now but he immediately reassures her. And it’s both of them just really coming to terms with it and how at the same time it feels so right and it’s all so freaking sweet😩

I want to stay right here in this fic😌I shall not leave. I’ll pay rent !!!!!! This was so wonderful🩷🩷

Soulmate Smells: A Harry Styles Soulmate AU 💕

Based on this post right here

CW: Obsessive and possessive Harry, intense feelings of attachment, smut, explicit dirty talk (Harry actually just talks a lot and can’t be bothered to filter himself okay?), lastly some light embarrassment and tiny moment of insecurity.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan

Word Count: 8K

A/N: You can all thank @likea-silhouette for this because they wanted more and said they’d never say no to smut so like…yeah enjoy Harry being obsessive but in a fluffy sweet and filthy way💕

Summary: A day at the farmer’s market has you leaving with way more than just some flowers and a few trinkets💕

You hum to yourself as you look at a few necklaces that are being displayed on a table in a booth located right in the middle of the farmer’s market you go to every Sunday. The man working the booth gives you a smile that you politely return before reaching for a small silver chain that has a flower pendant hanging on it, but when you go to look in the mirror and place the chain around your neck to get a look at where the pendant will hit your eyes catch something or more so someone in the reflection.

A man.

A handsome man.

You don’t know this man because surely you’d remember meeting a man with a face like his, a jawline that’s looks perfect for nibbling on while his lips look as if he’s been biting them all day but still soft enough that you imagine they’d feel like plush little pillows when pressed against yours. He has a grin on his face that would make you feel slightly uneasy at how big it is if he didn’t have a dimple popping out making him seem almost boyish and charming, his brown curly hair is a mixture of styled and messy that you can only assume is from him running his hands through it. But it’s his eyes that have your skin buzzing, they are so green and practically have hearts swirling around in them as they stare into yours and it has you deciding it might be time to head home for the day having bought a few little trinkets already.

You swallow down the sudden bundle of nerves you feel brewing in your tummy as you slowly place the necklace back down on the table offering the man working a warm smile before turning and heading further down the row of booths. As you walk past a booth selling flowers you can’t help but stop once you see the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, the main reason you even came to the market was for some new flowers for your kitchen so you bite the inside of your cheek before looking over your shoulder, letting out a small sigh of relief when you don’t see the green eyed man.

With the coast clear of creepy men you reach a hand down to grab them out of the white bucket filled with water but just then you see someone come and stand next to you out of the corner of your eye and soon a ring clad hand with a small faded cross tattoo between the index finger and the thumb beats you to them. A small gasp falls from your lips when they gently brush the tips of their fingers over yours in the process of grabbing the flowers making a tingling sensation run down your spine all the way to your toes.

“Do you like these?” A man with a British accent asks, the roses in his hand. When you look over you feel your eyes go wide and your heart begin to beat a mile a minute when the same pair of green eyes that you saw in the mirror are staring right at you.

“Uh yes they-they’re lovely.” You answer as you slowly back away from the man who only seems to be able to grin while looking at you, just nods quickly before turning and handing the bouquet to the woman working the booth. You take the opportunity to turn and walk towards the exit, not wanting to be visible by the time he’s done paying for his flowers.

“Wait!” You don’t look back as the same British accent is shouting for you, instead you take an abrupt right going past a few random booths on the aisle before making a left and then another immediate left, hoping that was enough to have the green eyed British man the run around as you reach the last row of booths near the exit.

“Thank go-”

“Jesus you walk fast.” You freeze as an out of breath but still very familiar British accent comes from behind you. “I have to-”

“Leave me alone. That’s what you have to do.” You tell him as you turn around so you can face him, and instead of the confused expression you were expecting he’s just grinning and running a hand through his hair as if he didn’t register the words that just came out of your mouth in as harsh of a tone you can manage while also trying not to panic.

“Actually I have to-well I guess I can start by just saying I love you.” You nearly choke on the air you take in to try to calm yourself down as the words fall so casually out of the man’s mouth. “Like proper madly in love with you. I just-I had to tell you before my heart exploded or something because that’s what it feels like right now-like I’m gonna explode if I don’t just tell you how much I love you. And I do you know? Love you. So much.” He goes on to explain as he reaches the hand with the small cross tattoo out towards you, the red and pink rose bouquet it in.

“I don’t know you.” You say slowly hoping maybe it’ll help the words sink in, but to your shock the man just lets out a chuckle as he gives the roses a small little shake making you stare at him as you quickly reach out and take them from him.

“I’m Harry.” He says warmly a smile still on his face as you give him your name in return, taking a step towards you that has you instantly backing up two steps wanting to keep some distance between the two of you. “You’re-you’re my soulmate.” You blink a few times trying to take in the words he just said and Harry takes full advantage of the moment and closes the gap between the two of you, grabbing your hand in both of his so he can bring it up to his lips to place kisses to your knuckles.

“Excuse me.” You watch a pout form on his face as you snatch your hand out of his grasp. “We are not soulmates that’s not-” your words get caught in your throat as Harry falls to his knees right in front of you, grabbing at your hand once again and bringing it up to his lips and then suddenly his nose is running up and down the inside of your wrist and you feel your whole body stiffen when you hear what you swear is the softest, faintest moan come from him as he takes a big inhale.

“Fuck you smell absolutely divine. Like-like oranges dipped in sugar that were left in the forest.” His words have the wheels in your brain turning, he lets out a small pathetic sounding whine when you once again free your hand from of his grasp. You shove the flowers into his face, his hands instantly coming up to grab them so you can dig around in your tote bag, your eyes narrowing when you find the small roller ball floating at the bottom of it. “Please don’t walk away again. I love you so much I can’t-I won’t survive if I have to watch you walk away from me again.” Harry’s voice is borderline begging as you grab the small roller ball from your bag so you can take a look at it.

“Okay just get up and,” you let out a sigh as you look around to see if anyone is paying that much attention to the fairly dramatic scene the two of you are causing in the middle of an aisle at a semi crowded farmer’s market. “Follow me.” You tell him making him let out a sigh of relief as he stands up, still holding your flowers and now supporting an even bigger grin on his face than when you first saw him.

“Okay. I’ll follow you anywhere.” You roll your eyes at how serious he sounds as you turn so you can lead him towards the exit, the roller ball securely held in your hand and you nearly let out a shriek when you feel Harry slide his hand over your lower back before sliding it into the back pocket of your jean shorts pulling you into his side.

“What the hell?” He stops walking making you do the same as he quirks a brow at you, his jaw tightening as he looks around the market, completely oblivious to the way you’re glaring at him.

“What’s wrong? Someone bothering you?” The way his voice goes deeper and has a rough edge to it has your heart doing a weird flip, he pulls you even closer to his side as his eyes continue to scan the crowd. You watch the way his eyes go darker and you have to shake off the oddly comforting feeling you get knowing this random man named Harry that you’ve known for five minutes looks as if he’s ready to murder anyone who dares to bother you.

“Yes. You.” You say annoyed making him look down at you as you roll your eyes and start walking again making him have no other choice but to do the same.

“I’m bothering you? I’m sorry.” His voice is full of regret as the two of you walk through the exit, you stop walking once the two of you reach the edge of the parking lot. “I don’t-god baby bothering you is the last thing I want to do. I’m sorry please forgive me. I’ll be better just tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you.” Harry tells you with nothing but pure emotion in his voice, his hand sliding out of your pocket and up to your hip as you turn so you’re now facing him.

“You’re fine I just-I need a moment okay? Do you mind giving me some space?” Harry’s face looks almost pained as he gives you a small nod before he takes a step backwards. “Uhm maybe a little more? Like five steps backwards?”

“But-but then I won’t be able to reach you?”

“Uh yeah-but you’ll still be able to see me.”

“That’s true.” The hand that’s holding the flowers falls down to his side as he lets out a sad sigh. “I’ll miss you.” You have to rub your lips together to hold off the small laugh that wants to bubble up from your chest as you watch Harry’s frown get deeper and deeper with every step he takes backing away from you. He lets out a sad sounding whine when his hand finally has to fall from your hip and land at his side as he takes the last few steps away from you.

“Perfect.” You tell him with a smile that he returns eagerly while giving you a little wave. With a little chuckle you look away from him and down at the bottle in your hand, your eyes squinting when you read the hand written label on it. “Soulmate smells? That’s an odd name.” You mumble to yourself as you try to think back to when you bought it an hour or so ago right when you entered the market. You close your eyes as the memory starts to replay in your mind.

“You like it?” You smile and nod at the man behind the small table of perfume oils. “That’s a special blend.” He tells you as you look at the small bottle, liking how it smells a little like fresh citrus but also a tiny bit sweet all blended with a slightly musky scent.

“It smells amazing.” He smiles and nods as he gently takes the bottle out of your hands, he gives you a look that has you nodding before he rubs a bit of it onto the inside of your wrist.

“It’s a soulmate smell so only you and whomever your soulmate is will be able to smell it the same way.” You just nods as you bring your wrist up to your nose to get a whiff of how it smells on your skin. “It might have them acting a bit-obsessive but that’s because it’s a potent blend but they’ll be fine after a few hours or so.” He explains with a laugh as you just grab the bottle from him and rub a few more dabs of it on your wrist.

“Careful not too much okay? If your soulmate is anywhere near here they’ll be very determined to prove their love to you.” He warns as you hand him your card so you can purchase the perfume from him.

“If they’re my soulmate I’ll feel the same though right?” You ask making the man just laugh and nod his head as he hands you back your card.

“Yes you’ll feel the same-eventually.”

“Holy shit.” You bring a hand up to your forehead as you start to understand why this green eyed British man named Harry is suddenly confessing his love to you, he really is your soulmate. “You’re my soulmate.” You mumble making Harry get a giant goofy looking grin on his face as he starts to walk back over to you.

“Isn’t it great?” He asks once he’s right in front of you. “I’m going to be so good to you baby-I promise.” And for some odd reason you believe him, so in a moment you can only describe as either a brief bout of insanity or genuine curiosity you reach your free hand out and grab his, interlocking your fingers with his.

“I guess this means we should get to know each other?” You question making Harry nod and before you can say anything he is turning and leading you towards a black Range Rover. “Uh where are-”

“My place.”

“Your place?” Harry just nods as he opens the passenger side door for you after placing your roses on top of his center console.

“Is that okay?” He asks in a worried tone as he helps you into the car, taking your tote bag from you after you slip the roller ball back into it. “God I’m already fucking this all up aren’t I? I’m sorry I swear-”

“No-no your place is fine.” You tell him deciding that maybe for right now it’s best he doesn’t know where you live just in case he turns out to be a special brand of crazy you don’t ever want to deal with again. Harry smiles and you feel your cheeks get hot as he leans over and places his lips to your cheek before gently placing your bag in your lap and closing the door. “This is going to be interesting.” You mumble to yourself as Harry rounds the front of the car and climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Pick whatever radio station you want sweetheart what’s mine is yours.” He says with a genuine smile as he picks up the roses and puts them on the seat in the back so he can reach over and place a hand on your thigh, as if it’s the most natural thing ever and he’s done it a thousand times. You look down at it and have to bite your bottom lip at how nice the weight and warmth of his hand feels on your skin.

“I love you.” His voice is soft and smooth as he gives your thigh a little squeeze before he pulls out of the parking lot. You place a hand over his and give it a small pat, your silent response since you’re not really sure what to say. He turns his head to look over at you, his bright eyes meeting yours briefly so he can flash you a dimpled grin before turning his attention back to the road as if he knows you’re not ready to say it back but you swear there’s a certain glint in his eyes that tells you he knows you’ll say it eventually, but the fact you’re sitting in his passenger seat is good enough for him right now.

It’s been an hour since you got the “welcome to your future house” tour from Harry and since then you’ve managed to learn quite a bit about him. One of the main things is that he’s in the music industry but that’s all the information he really gave you time to process before he practically dragged you onto his lap after plopping down on the couch and began telling you random facts about himself. Such as his birthday, favorite color which just so happens to be the exact same color of your eyes, where in England he grew up and how he talks to his mom everyday and has a sister he wishes he could spend more time with. In return you gave him the basic rundown on yourself, he quite enjoyed learning your job lets you work remotely because in his mind that means you’ll be able to work from his home, but you ignored that and continued to tell him things you thought he might want to know about you, but it turns out he wants to know everything.

One of the main things you’ve figured out about your soulmate is that he is extremely handsy and he will actually pout if you get too far away from him making it impossible for him to be touching you in some way. You think that maybe it’s just due to the odd reaction he’s having to the perfume you put on almost two hours ago but something deep inside of you thinks that this probably is just a Harry thing. You let out a sigh as you stand in front of the sink in the kitchen, you don’t know how you managed to pry Harry’s hands off you long enough to walk out of the living room but he didn’t seem to mind that much after you fed him the excuse of wanting to get a glass of water. He did mumble something about not taking too long due to how much he’ll miss you but you just ignored it and continued on your way down the hall until you came up on his very white and very clean kitchen.

“I have a soulmate.” You whisper to yourself as you grip the edge of the counter in front of the sink. “He’s a little-odd but he’s nice right? Yeah yeah he’s nice he just-he’s just drugged or like high off the smell thing so-so we can’t judge him too harshly right?” You begin pacing as you talk yourself through the weird mix of emotions you’re starting to feel about the green eyed man that’s currently lounging on his couch being your soulmate. “He’s cute so-that’s a bonus. He’s attentive and uhm he opens doors-that’s rare these days and he has soft hands which is nice because he likes to hold hands-and really any part of the body he can reach and uh-uhm he seems sweet and-”

“You think I’m cute?” Harry’s voice coming from behind you makes you jump but before you can turn around to face him he has his hands gripping your hips pulling you into him until your back is flush with his chest. “And attentive?” He asks as his lips brush against the side of your neck making you let out a soft gasp when you feel one of his hands slide under the hem of your t shirt, resting on the soft skin of your tummy right above the waistband of your shorts.

“Y-yes.” You stutter as Harry’s grip on your hip loosens just enough so he can turn you around allowing him to grin at you as he stares into your eyes.

“Are my hands really that soft?” You don’t hear any hints of him teasing or messing with you hidden in his voice as his hands gently cup the sides of your face. “I use a special rose oil lotion every night before bed.” He explains as the pads of his thumbs softly run over your cheekbones, you let out a quiet chuckle at how genuine he is as he continues to divulge random facts about himself to you.

“Oh that sounds nice.” He smiles as he takes a small step closer to you, completely crowding your space now as he tilts your head upwards just slightly.

“If I don’t kiss you now I-I think my heart is going to give out because your lips look like they taste like heaven and I just need to feel them on mine.” You barely get to bring your hands up to grab onto his worn out t shirt before his lips are crashing into yours, his hold on your face sliding down to the sides of your neck as he walks you backward until you’re pressed up against the door of his refrigerator.

His lips are soft as they move against yours in a kiss that has your heart hammering in your chest and your lungs burning as they beg for air but you don’t want to pull away, not yet because you’ve never felt anything that feels the way Harry’s mouth feels on yours. You pull away making a whine leave Harry as one of his hands travels down to your hip, you let out a small squeal when you feel him grab at your thigh and hike your leg over his hip allowing him to take half a step closer to you. You take a few deep breaths and try to gain some sense of composure but then Harry’s lips are on your jaw, kissing and nipping their way down the side of your neck.

“You drive me fucking crazy baby.” His words are muffled as he presses his lips to the spot below your ear. “So perfect.” He says before he places a kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck. You close your eyes and instinctively tilt your head letting his have more access making him smile against your skin. “So pretty.” His breath is warm against your neck as he drags his lips across your skin as they make their way back up to your jaw. “And all mine.”

Your eyes snap open at his choice of words but before you can even think of arguing his lips are back on yours in a hungry kiss. Harry’s tongue slides into your mouth and you just swallow down his moan as you let him lick into your mouth. It’s the kind of kiss that’s full of want and a deep need, the kind of kiss that leaves you panting as you try to catch your breath when he pulls away.

“Harry we-”

“Say it again.” His voice is low and rough as he rests his forehead against yours, a hand still holding onto the side of your neck, his thumb pressing gently at the spot just below your ear. You feel a moan work its way up from deep in your chest as Harry’s hand gives your neck a small squeeze. “Please baby say it again. Say my name again.”

“Harry.” He lets out a groan as his name rolls off your tongue, his hand on your thigh moving to grab one of yours that’s gripping onto his shirt.

“This is what you do to me.” You feel your face get hot as he places your hand over the very prominent bulge in his jeans. “Been ready to burst since the moment I saw you-god you just came out of nowhere and suddenly it was like no one else in the whole world existed besides you and you looked so fucking pretty and-and fuck I fell in love with you right then and there in the middle of that market.” His words are a bit jumbled as you watch him try to maintain some sense of control, but you can tell he’s close to losing the battle he’s fighting with himself because the hand that’s pressing yours against his crotch presses your hand down harder until you’re fully palming him over his jeans.

“You really think you love me?” Your question sets something off in Harry, his eyes turn dark as he pulls back just enough so he can look you right in the eyes with the most serious face you’ve ever seen him make.

“Think?” He questions as his hands cup the sides of your face as he lets out a laugh and shakes his head making you swallow thickly. “No baby I don’t think I love you.” His voice is husky as he leans in so his lips are only a breath away from yours. “I know I do.” And with that his lips are pressing against yours in a kiss that’s no longer hungry and desperate but now just full of passion and a deep emotion and you know it’s Harry’s attempt at trying to make you feel just how much he loves you with every swipe of his tongue against yours.

Without warning Harry grabs your other thigh and hikes it over his hip so he can get a firm grip of your ass making you wrap your arms around his neck for support. You let out a small shocked noise that makes Harry laugh as he backs up, adjusting his hold on you so he’s sure he won’t drop you as he walks you out of the kitchen and down the hallway to a bedroom all while placing quick little kisses to your lips. He smiles at you when he pulls away leaving you feeling breathless as he gently places you onto his bed, your legs hanging off the end as he stands between them so he can lean over you and place a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Feel this?” You feel him grab yours hands and watch as his face softens as he places them on his chest, you feel the steady beating of his heart under your palms. “It beats for you-it’s yours just like everything else I have. It’s all for you because-because that’s how much I love you.” For the first time in your life you can’t think of anything to say, Harry’s eyes are locked on yours and you can not only hear the emotion in his voice but you can feel it in every word that comes out of his mouth. So when all you can do is nod, your way of trying to tell him you understand he gives you a grin in return and drops his hands from holding yours to his chest so he can once again lean over you.

“You get it now don’t you love?” He asks as he places a hand on either side of your head holding himself up. You bring your hands up to cup his face making him turn his head so he can place a kiss to the inside of your palm before his eyes find yours.

“Yes-I think I get it now.” Harry just playfully rolls his eyes as you pull his face down just a little so you can place a quick kiss to his lips.

“That’s not good enough for me baby.” His words have you feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement as he stands up making your hands fall to your sides. “Need to show you how I feel about you.” He tells you as his hands reach for the waistband of your shorts. “Can I do that sweetheart? Show you how perfect we are for each other?” His eyes search yours for any signs of disapproval and when all you do is give him a small nod he begins to unbutton them so he can slide them down until they land on the floor next to his feet.

You watch it all happen as if in slow motion, his hands grab the hem of his t shirt, effortlessly pulling it over his head letting your eyes take in his toned stomach and the scattering of tattoos on his chest and he watches as they travel down to the bulge in his pants. He lets out a groan as you lick your top lip before sinking your teeth into your bottom one while bringing your eyes back up to his face, you watch a smile take over as he reaches down to undo his jeans, his eyes never leaving yours as he works them down to his ankles so he can kick them off. He hovers over you and leans down so his lips are right next to your ear as your hands rest on top of his shoulders.

“Can I see you baby? All of you? Need to get a better look at this body that was made for me.” His voice is laced with a deep rooted desire that has your heart racing and an aching feeling for more of him beginning to grow low in your tummy.

“Okay.” You mumble as your hands begin to slide down his chest, feeling every inch of his toned stomach. “Yes you-you can see all of me Harry.” A soft moan falls from him as his name leaves your mouth, his lips kiss the side of your neck before he stands up making your hands fall to his hips. He watches in awe as you sit up a bit so you can take your shirt off followed by your bra that you just toss to the floor, you feel your cheeks get hot as his eyes take in the new parts of your body that you’re allowing him to see. Without looking at him you reach down to the waistband of your panties and lift your hips so you can start to take them off, Harry’s hands quickly taking over to help you slide them down your legs. You hear his breathing turn more rapid and in a moment of bravery you chance a look at him and you feel your whole body light up when his eyes slowly travel up from your exposed center to the curves of your breasts before finally landing on your face.

“Fuck you’re-you’re so beyond beautiful there’s not even a word to describe just how stunning you are.” You try to bring your hands up to cover your face so he can’t see how embarrassed you are under his intense gaze but Harry isn’t having it. “Don’t hide from me baby I’ve gone long enough without seeing your face.” His hands are gently gripping your wrists so he can move your hands, placing them down at your sides. He gives you a warm smile as he leans over and places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I gotta be honest with you sweetheart if I don’t come soon I’ll be borderline worthless the moment I feel that pretty pussy wrapped around me and-and I can’t have the first time we fuck or make love-or whatever you want to call it only last a few minutes.” You have to bite back a small laugh as Harry shamelessly admits how truly riled up he is and how close he is to coming undone.

“Do you need me to-”

“I don’t need you to do anything besides enjoy yourself okay?” You just nod and give him a silly smile as he makes quick work of sliding his boxers down, a groan leaving his mouth as he wraps a hand around his hard shaft and gives himself a few slow pumps. “I’m gonna make a mess all over you.” He says with a moan as he holds himself up with one hand so he’s leaning over you. “But don’t worry baby I’ll clean you up real good when I’m done.” His voice is deeper and rougher and you instinctively spread your legs a little wider letting him settle between them as he begins to give himself quicker more determined pumps with his fist.

Your eyes can’t help themselves as they travel down his body until they reach his long thick cock he has his hand tightly wrapped around. The sight making the dull ache in your lower tummy turn more intense as you try to imagine what it’s going to feel like when he’s inside you. You let out a soft moan when Harry runs the tip of his shaft up and down your slick folds, teasing both you and himself making him groan and close his eyes.

“So nice and wet for me already-it’s like your body knows who it belongs to doesn’t it baby? who it was made for.” Your response gets stuck in your throat as Harry lets out a loud moan and you feel the first warm drop of his release land on the front of your already soaked cunt. “Oh god-you look so good covered in me baby-fuck you’re so pretty.” His eyes are glued on your wet center as he spills his release all over your pussy, a soft whine falling from your lips as a few spurts land on your clit.

“If I wasn’t so madly and deeply in love with you I’d be a bit embarrassed at how quickly that happened.” He says with a breathy laugh as he tries to calm his heart down a bit and catch his breath. You just giggle and run a hand through his hair, oddly enjoying how honest he is with you even while the two of you are completely naked and partially covered in his release. “Are you okay my love? Do you need anything or can I eat your perfectly delicious looking cunt really quick before I properly fuck you?” Your eyes go wide at his bluntness and he gives you a dimpled grin before he lowers himself down so he’s on his knees, his hands gently resting on the tops of your thighs.

“I don’t-”

“Sorry baby do you prefer to call it something else? I don’t really like the whole making love thing since we don’t need to make love we already have it so-”

“It’s not that.” Harry quirks a brow as he looks up at you from his spot between your legs, your heart swells when you feel his hands soothingly run up and down your thighs. “I just haven’t uhm no one’s ever-”

“I understand love.” His soft voice and hands gripping your knees stop the rest of your sentence from coming out. “I’m not going to lie I quite like the fact no one else has gotten to get a taste of what’s mine-I have a little bit of a jealously issue so knowing I’m going to be the only one that gets to enjoy this part of you is doing wonders for me.” You don’t get much time to respond before Harry is leaning in and placing open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll be gentle baby don’t worry and if you don’t like it tell me or-better yet just give my hair a good tug and I’ll stop.” You barely get finished nodding at him when you feel his tongue lick a hot stripe right up the middle of your cunt.

Your hands reach out and grab the sheets as Harry lets out a deep moan that sends a pleasant vibration through your core. As soon as Harry gets his first taste of your arousal mixed with a bit of his own all promises to be gentle get tossed to the side, not that he’s rough but he begins to lick and suck at you like a man starved and you’re the only thing that satiate him. You let out a moan of his name as he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, your hands daringly reach down and tangle themselves in his hair earning you a groan of pleasure from him.

“You taste so good baby.” His words are muffled but you hear them and you can’t help but feel an odd sort of satisfaction at the fact he enjoys how you taste. When he pushes his tongue and swirls it inside your soaked opening you feel the pressure begin to build in your lower tummy, he hums against you as you pull his hair making the tip of his nose bump your clit. “You like that? Like the way my tongue feels on your pussy baby? Want more?”

“Yes please-feels so good.” You answer with a small moan that has Harry smiling and kissing the inside of your thighs before he goes back to licking his release off your glistening folds. You arch your back and tighten your grip in his hair when he gives your clit a few well timed flicks with his tongue.

“So good-oh Harry that’s so good oh god.” Your words are a rushed mess as you feel the pressure finally snap making you let out a cry of his name as your climax hits you like a tidal wave. Harry moans against you as he tries to get every last drop of your release on his tongue so he can swallow it down, not wanting any of it to go to waste. You release your grip on his hair and bring your hands up to cover your face as you try to catch your breath.

“Shit baby you might just be my new favorite meal.” You let out a chuckle as you move your hands just in time to see Harry lick his lips as he stands up. “How was that? Be honest okay? We’re gonna be together forever so if there’s parts of that you didn’t like just tell me so I can do it better.” He tells you as he hovers over you, his face still a bit shiny with your arousal covering his chin. “I can’t have the love of my life not fully satisfied by the way I eat her pussy.”

“I mean you had me seeing stars by the end of it so I’d say it was good.”

“Good? Just good?”

“Great-sorry it was great Harry I swear.”

“You know I’d honestly rather die than know you found the experience of my head between your legs and my tongue deep in your cunt as just great-I’m looking for maybe amazing? Other worldly? I’d even take fantastic but great? Baby that’s-that’s not good enough for me.” He furrows his brows as he looks you in your eyes and when he starts to lower himself as if he’s about to give you another round with his tongue you reach out and grab hold of his face with your hands.

“It was so amazing they haven’t invented a word to describe how truly wonderful you made me feel.” Harry can’t help but grin at you as you use his own line on him.

“Fuck I love you.” He says with a laugh before he leans down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. “I need to be inside you baby-need to feel my big cock spreading your tight little pussy open.” You feel his hips roll into yours letting the tip of his hard cock nudge at your entrance. “Shit baby need it so bad please let me fuck you-please.”

“Okay Harry. Show me how perfectly made for each other we are.” He doesn’t waste anytime before he’s pushing the tip of his thick shaft into your warm wet cunt.

“Oh fuck.” He groans as he slowly pushes into you letting you feel every inch of him. “Oh god baby you-you feel heavenly.” He says with a moan as he closes his eyes once he bottoms out and you’re completely full of him.

“You-you’re so big.” Your words are strained as you claw at Harry’s shoulders making him let out a loud moan as his eyes open up while he pulls out just a bit and slowly pushes back in.

“I know and you’re taking it so well.” He praises before he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Only been inside you for a minute and I’m already addicted to how fucking good you feel-shit baby you’re never allowed to leave this bed.” He grunts as he grabs at the side of your thigh and hikes your leg over his hip. “Please just move in-I need to be inside this tight cunt all day.”

“H-Harry oh god.” You let out a loud moan as his pace begins to quicken.

“You feel that don’t you baby?” He asks as he leans down and places his lips to the side of your neck. “Feel how perfect we are together-how good we are together.” He mumbles against the soft sensitive skin of your neck as his thrusts turn more deliberate as if he’s trying to really prove his point with every swirl and rock of his hips making your mouth fall open.

“So good together.” You moan making Harry smile against the side of your neck as you wrap your other leg around him trying to pull him even closer. In that moment as you feel Harry give you a few harsh thrusts making the tip of his cock hit the spot that has your toes curling you begin to get overcome with a strong feeling of completion, as if being connected with Harry in this way feels like the final piece you didn’t even know you were missing to the puzzle that makes up your heart has been put in place.

Harry was the missing piece.

“I knew you’d feel it eventually baby.” Harry mumbles in your ear as he gives you a hard thrust of his hips. “Knew you’d love me by the end of the night.” He can’t hide the smugness in his voice as his lips kiss up your jaw until they are hovering right over yours. “Come on sweetheart tell me you love me and I’ll have you seeing more than just stars-I’ll have you seeing your whole future with me.” His eyes stare into yours, his hips still for a moment as you give him a smile that tells him exactly what you’re about to say.

“I love you.” Your voice is shaky and you barley get it all out before Harry’s lips are on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth like he can taste the words that just rolled of your tongue with every brush of his own against it.

“I love you too. So much-never letting you go.” He murmurs as his hips find a new pace, filled with a burning desire to have you come apart for him. “You’re mine aren’t you? Tell me you’re mine baby tell me this pussy is mine-these lips are mine. All of you is mine.” You let out a cry of his name as you feel yourself tipping over the edge, your walls clench around him as you come undone with a harsh thrust of his hips.

“Yes I’m yours-I’m all yours Harry.” You pant as he fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts turning quick and relentless as he chases his own release.

“Fuck-I’m gonna fill you up so nice you’re gonna feel me dripping out of you for days.” He groans as your name tumbles out of his mouth over and over as you feel the warmth of his release coating your walls deep inside you. “Oh god you’ve ruined me baby-never gonna be able to go a day without being stuffed inside of you now that I’ve gotten to experience it.” You let out a little giggle as he practically falls on top of you, feeling a sense of comfort from the weight of him being firmly pressed against you.

“I guess it’s a good thing you asked me to move in then.” You tease making his chest vibrate as he lets out a chuckle. Moments later you feel him let out a sigh as your hands start running up and down his back, you feel him begin to relax under your touch.

“You’re so perfect.” He whispers as if he’s worried talking any louder might shatter the comfortableness of the moment the two of you are in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” That’s the last thing you remember saying before you close your eyes and drift off, sleep taking you quicker than you expected.

You let out a soft sigh as you stretch your limbs, the feeling of a velvety soft set of sheets under your hands has your eyes snapping open and your head lifting up from the pillow you were sleeping on. Your eyes dart around the room, a room you know very well isn’t yours but then you roll over to your side and you’re met with something solid, a chest to be exact. You stare at the butterfly that’s in front of your face and slowly reach out and place your hand on it, as if testing to see if it’s real life or still a dream.

“M’ticklish so watch those hands baby.” A deep sleep coated voice mumbles making your cheeks get warm as the arm that you just now realize is draped over you pulls you closer making you have no choice but to rest your head back down on the pillow so you’re now face to face with the green eyed man you spent the night with.

“Uhm good-good morning.” You say shyly making Harry let out a soft chuckle.

“Good morning love-I said a lot of crazy stuff to you yesterday didn’t I?” He asks and when you just nod he lets out a groan as he turns his head to hide his face in his pillow. “I can’t be held responsible for everything I said you-you had this weird power over me.” You laugh and reach over to brush some hair out of his face when he turns to face you again.

“It actually was a uh perfume oil that I-”

“Oh god the sugary forest oranges-can’t think about how good you smelled or we’ll have a big problem to deal with.”

“So you uhm didn’t mean-any of it then?” Harry quirks a brow at you as you try to hide your disappointment, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as you lay in the arms of a man that you felt such a strong and loving connection with who is now possibly telling you it was all because of the perfume you had on.

“Oh baby no no that’s not what I meant.” You feel him pulling you into his chest as he rolls over to his back. “I meant everything I said I just normally wouldn’t have let all that out the first night we spend together that’s all.” He reassures you making you let out a sigh of relief, Harry places his lips to the top of your head. “You’re my soulmate love. The reason my heart beats-the air in my lungs and the one I’ve been secretly writing all my love songs about.” You smile against his chest as your hand draws mindless patterns over the skin above his butterfly tattoo.

“So you really love me?” You ask as you tilt your head so you can look at him.

“I love you so much I don’t even like it when you’re asleep because it means I can’t talk and love on you.” The way he’s staring straight into your eyes tells you he’s not joking but you can’t help but feel a small little giggle bubble up from deep in your chest making him let out a huff. “I sound fucking obsessive don’t I? But really I can’t help it. It’s just how I feel when it comes to you.”

“It’s okay Harry.” You give him a smile and it’s like he knows exactly what you want so he leans down until his nose is bumping into yours. “I love you too.” Harry smiles before you press your lips against his and you have to laugh as you pull away at how just a simple twenty four hours ago you were walking through a farmer’s market hoping to find some new little trinkets and some flowers but you ended up leaving with the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with.

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of my favorite things about getting older is that I’m just more sure and more confident in taking control in social situations and making other people feel at ease. I really love it!

[instarsanddyke]

but i'm not supposed to scratch

[wonder-worker]

"As for the government of the kingdom, [Edward V] had complete confidence in the peers of realm and the queen."

— Dominic Mancini, The Usurpation of Richard the Third / J.L. Laynesmith, The Last Medieval Queens: English Queenship 1445-1503 / Alexander R. Brondarbit, Power Brokers and the Yorkist State, 1461-1485

"According to the Crowland continuator, [Elizabeth Woodville] seems to have taken the king's place in listening to his council immediately after Edward IV's death. It does appear that she expected to have some role in her son's kingship, and the Crowland continuator’s report of the letters sent to her by [Richard of Gloucester] indicates that she had good reason to expect to be able to work with him and the other councillors: 'the duke of Gloucester wrote the most pleasant letters to console the queen; he promised to come and offer submission, fealty and all that was due from him to his lord and king, Edward V, the first-born son of his brother the dead king and the queen'."

"[However], in what was Gloucester's first coup, Edward V was separated from his household and Woodville advisors. When the young king questioned the move, Buckingham was reported to have told the boy 'It is not in the business of women but men to govern kingdoms'. The blunt remark referred to the authority of Elizabeth Woodville as queen and the power she must have anticipated within the new political climate left by Edward IV's sudden death. [...] While the veracity of this scene is questionable*, the words attributed to the duke no doubt seemed plausible to Dominic Mancini who believed they exemplified the popular sentiment held by men [...]."

*One of Mancini's key sources seems to have been Edward V's own doctor, John Argentine, who attended to him in the Tower. It's very likely that he was the one who recounted this scene to Mancini, which suggests that it should probably be considered more credible than not.

[miabrown007]

girl who sucks at making OCs needs to make a DnD character send help

[ctl-yuejie]

i think - especially after the last episode - the audience will generally agree that chueam is also just a 22 year old making mistakes and having her own vices etc.

at the moment, I am not sure how deliberate the writing is for her character because p'jojo is tweeting a bunch about lesbians being the best and saving the gays (which I appreciate in a lot of ways) and it makes me wonder how intentional it is that besides the messiness of everyone around her - which she has also contributed to - her friends do burden her with cleaning up the mess. she is the leader of the gang and yes - mew had the role of table saver and collecting everyone after a drunk night out - but she also is the spokesperson for the group in a lot of sitations and currently i am pondering the fact that mewray decided to throw a party but then got too drunk and high to be awake so she had to represent the group, talk to the police and coordinate with top to solve the situation.

she does try and micro-manage her friend group based on her own image she has of everyone (and even what her ideal friend group is supposed to be like) and maybe tries but mostly fails to actually run fruitful interventions for ray so her outburst at him is a bit misplaced, but i cannot help but think that the stress of suddenly being the one person (plus april having to step in) in charge of the party made her explode.

there are a lot of instances where the others do take on the role of caregivers, but I am curious whether the gendered roles the group sometimes falls into is sth the show wants to comment on.

[mars-ipan]

overcoming anxiety (through practicing the things that scare you) is so interesting. i used to be horrified of taking up space or alerting other people of my presence. now i'm compelled to tell strangers i like their outfits or hair or earrings- on bad days i tell maybe a quarter of them. do i still overthink it? absolutely. but i call attention to myself to tell someone else my opinion. and with the way they tend to smile and tell me "thank you!" i'm pretty sure it's taken to heart.

i used to be horrified of making phone calls as well. this is one i'm still getting over- i just Don't Like Doing It. i used to have a phone call routine that i still joke about- realize i need to call someone, cry, avoid it for a few days, suck it up, write a script, memorize the script, cry again, final script read, make the call with the script in front of me. and i would be Exhausted by the end of it. i don't cry when i need to call people anymore. i'm even needing scripts less and less- i've found out that people actually won't kill me if i talk a little too fast or stumble on my words. i doubt i'll ever like making phone calls- i especially hate robots (i'm afraid they'll mishear me and direct me wrong or a person will suddenly show up and i won't be prepared)- but i can make them now.

i get overwhelmed really easy. just a thing that happens to me. my brain is really really good at taking one task and breaking it up into thousands of little tasks and it feels like i'm drowning. if i try to make it fewer larger tasks then it starts to feel insurmountable. i was completely lost on how to deal with this (other than avoid until you get that panic attack and can do work in the post-catharsis calm until 6:00 AM) until one night when my dad (who i often meet late at night due to overlapping mental illness symptoms) asked me how to eat an elephant. i looked at him, confused, and he said "one bite at a time." that was way more effective than any other analogy i've seen has been. "light at the end of a tunnel"- i don't feel like i'm moving forward, i feel like i'm scaling a wall. "steps on a trail"- i can see my destination, but it feels impossible to move forward. but eating an elephant? that sums it up perfectly. this huge task which seems impossible at a glance. but it must be done. so you eat the elephant, a bite at a time. every time i'm overwhelmed i repeat that phrase to myself. it hasn't made any major changes yet, but it keeps me calm enough to start before i hit the panic attack, which i'll take.

i was such a perfectionist growing up- i actually thought it was a good thing (school always taught me to strive for perfection). but it made me scared to try new things- if i wasn't immediately good at them, then it clearly wasn't for me. i'm still not great at starting new hobbies, but i try a lot of new things within the hobbies i already have. i test out different ways of making art, i try new puzzle games i don't understand, etc. and the feeling of steady improvement reminds me that i don't need to be good right away. some of the most satisfying moments don't come from immediately being good- they come from achieving that skill over time. i'd like to try to learn to sew soon.

idk it's interesting. i rewire my own brain's fear response by doing the Horrifying Thing enough times for me to understand that no i will not die. and while i'm doing it it feels like nothing is changing. i get so stressed every time- it can actually take a lot out of me (turns out fight-or-flight burns a lot of energy). but i look back at then vs. now and i realize how far i've come, and i can't help but think "huh. neat"

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

Too many thoughts too little organization of them BUT something about the ways that we heal from trauma and how we work through the same shit over and over again learning something new about it/ourselves everytime it comes up, and how WCS feels so important to the midnights story (memories feel like weapons, your finger on my hairpin triggers, etc) and the ways that processing and healing from trauma significantly impact relationships and sometimes we find ourselves in situations that we thought we wayyyy better for us because of some important differences but looking back on them they end up having more in common than we ever would have admitted while we’re in it. Idk!!! Just, these things feel related and (not necessarily in an accusatory way towards joe, let’s let her tell the story first) I think we swifties need to be prepared to have serious conversations about trauma and triggers and love bombing and the themes of violence in her work and how difficult it can be to extract yourself from bad situations and and and and and

[illithilit]

That moment when you realize that Mourndax is so flippant about everything bc ofc he is. Man's barely had any agency in his life under his parents' control, and he's less than five years removed from that. He hasn't exactly had time to learn how to make decisions of his own, and acting like you don't give a shit what the outcome is, or that you've simply changed your mind about it for no particular reason is a lot easier than admitting to still remembering how much the leash hurt when pulled on.