#also it just occurred to me that if that door opens inwards

[ihni]

Happy birthday Billy!!

(I couldn't fit more people there, but just imagine they're standing out of frame. A whole HOUSE full with people who are ready to celebrate Billy's birthday, and shower him with gifts and food and love.)

[heaven-s-black-box]

Choice- Dan Heng x fiance!fem!Reader

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Recovery date: May 8th, 2024

Description: I just got an idea, the reader is female, a quiet, humble and kind girl and is engaged to Dan Heng but the readers evil stepmother and half sister along with her neglectful father decided to kidnap them and try to force them to leave Dan Heng but they refused because Dan Heng made them feel like they actually belonged somewhere and they also knew that Dan Heng would save them. This all occurred not long after Dan Heng went to the readers family home with March and Caelus after he officially became engaged to the reader, The reason the three of them were even there was because Dan Heng wanted them to sincerely apologize for all the pain and suffering they put his fiance through. (This was inspired by episode 6 of the Netflix anime My Happy Marriage)

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions.

Word count: 891

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Dan Heng may be quiet, but he’s not opposed to confrontation; a fact that his future in-laws clearly missed even after he explained what he did when they asked. Hell, he would have thought that Caelus would have been enough of a tip off that he did serious work– the man carries a baseball bat and looks like a delinquent, though maybe that’s where he went wrong.

Maybe bringing March as a vouch of character and mediator was a bad idea, maybe it gave Y/n’s parents the wrong idea. Maybe Caelus didn’t make him look serious so much as dangerous. 

All he’d wanted was for them to apologize, to let his fiance turn over a new leaf with him.

He did not want this.

He did not want to break down the door of his fiance’s childhood home. It tore off its hinges, flying inwards and startling his future sister-in-law. She jumped back with a yelp, shaking as the Vidyadhara loomed in the doorway.

Perhaps he was taking it a touch too far as he glared down at her, stepping gracefully over the split door.

“Where is she?” His voice was cold and level.

She pointed down a hallway, he was almost worried her arm would rip off with how fast it moved, stumbling over her words. He offered her a stiff nod, and set off, barely catching the heavy sounds of footsteps following behind him.

“Dan Heng,” Caelus gasped, “slo-slow down.”

The Vidyadhara may have considered his friend's words if this situation were any different. Had his in-laws simply decided to harass him and his fiance, maybe bombarded them with cruel messages and calls, he would not have even bothered showing up here. He would have blocked them, and comforted his fiance with sweet words and some of Himeko’s coffee. Maybe they would invite March and Caelus to join them, the archer would surely break out some sweets to enjoy as well. They would make happy memories as a new family. They would move on.

But no, he’d returned to their hotel room to find it trashed. The table was on its side, the items on it scattered about, and the chairs pulled out like someone had grabbed on to them. Y/n’s stuff was gone too, and that was what told him the story. They just wouldn’t let this go.

“You’re wrong!” Y/n’s hoarse voice filled the hallway, and the anger in it encouraged him to pick up the pace.

He reached out, read to wretch another door from its hinges, when he was tackled and pulled back. A partly gloved hand clamped over his mouth as March and Caelus pulled him away from the door.

Before he could snap at them, throw them off and give his future in-laws the fright of their life, Y/n’s voice spoke again.

“You’re wrong… I am happy with him, I’m not just saying that. He listens to me, and my troubles, and doesn’t make me feel like a burden.” Dan Heng stops struggling against his friends. “He makes me want to help him in return. So I’m going back, and you can’t stop me. If you try I’ll…”

There were rapid footsteps and the door flung open.

Y/n looked almost mid sprint, with her mother lunging up from her seat on the floor. Her father wasn’t even present, typical.

“Dan Heng?”

Now that he could see them, there were tear streaks on her face which explained the hoarse voice.

“Hey, Y/n,” Caelus responded, removing his hand from his friend's mouth and waving.

“This is who you want to go back to?” Her mother practically squawked. “This ruffian with his delinquent and side pie-”

“Excuse me!?” March yelled. “Who are you calling a side piece!?”

Caelus reached over from behind Dan Hengg and pulled her back to the floor. That seemed to remind her why they’d really come here and she huffed. March pulled herself up, grabbing Dan Heng’s arm to haul him up too with Caelus ready to grab them both at a moments notice.

Dan Heng noticed the faint curl of Y/n’s lips at March’s outburst. He was glad she seemed okay, but he would have to make double sure later.

“I saw the hotel room,” Dan Heng said, answering her earlier question. “I assumed you would want a ride home.”

“Ya,” she breathed, “I would love a ride home.”

Her mother reached for her wrist, but with a flick of Dan Heng’s wrist she was launched backwards onto her ass by a beam of water. Y/n spared her a quick glance before rushing across the room to her haphazardly packed suitcase, which her mother had packed when she grabbed them, and joined her fiance in the hall.

Y/n and Dan Heng took the lead, walking back to the front door, and brushed past Y/n’s step-sister with Caelus and March close behind.

“Love?”

Dan Heng felt his cheeks heat up at the term of endearment. The road they walked may be rough, but to hear her gentle voice call him love while so full of adoration he would do anything.

“Yes?”

“What happened to the door?”

“Ah… don’t worry about that, must have been a strong breeze.”

“Try a tsunami,” March giggled, making Caelus snicker and earning a glare from Dan Heng.

[bestworstcase]

@based7100 this tag made me snicker so

#forbidden tdt lore!

forbidden tdt lore!

we are not going to get into the whole entire TDT Salem Backstory for spoiler reasons and also because my gods we’d be here all day. the salient piece with regard to her semblance is that through the vast majority of the epoch between the moonfall and humanity’s return salem was experiencing varying degrees of deep deep psychosis and still, to this day, doesn’t really know How Much of what happened during that time was real. once there were people again and she’d had a few centuries to feel mostly sure of this fact, her semblance crystallized from her determination to. uh. live in this world.

(blows a kiss to ice queendom for giving me a leg to stand on here with this being in scope of what semblances can do.)

the baseline ability lets her enter and arrange her own mind as a tangible, real physical place. she has constructs representing memories, feelings, ideas, beliefs, pathways and architecture that she’s built out over thousands of years to guide and contain her thinking within the bounds she finds comfortable. which all adds up to salem being very weird but cogent Most Of The Time and having things she can do to ground herself when it gets. bad again.

in a sense her semblance is itself a realm. not a very large one—back of napkin estimate it takes about two hours to walk across end to end and four top to bottom following the main thoroughfare. but akin to ozma’s reliquaries in that it’s a real place where, conceivably, anyone could go if she opened a door. the pool of grimm and the waters of life are both In There.

(<- i had all this sketched out pre-v9 which made the salem-wrote-it ever after theory VERY FUNNY. btw)

sustaining that requires a Tremendous Amount of aura obviously but salem has an infinite reserve and also has been at it for almost the entire history of humankind 2: electric boogaloo so She’s Fine. anyway

that’s the foundation. the fun thing about giving salem a semblance of course is her immortality. what happens if you take a semblance and give it thousands upon thousands of years to cook? (one of my reasons for devising hers this way was to impose some restriction on the answer; it projects inward, not outward, because it’s a staircase she had to build to find the outside world. it can’t go the other way.)

when it originally manifested, the one point of ingress was through her dreams. (although the dividing lines between dreaming and waking and lucid semblance dreams were… permeable.) then she figured out how to cast herself in and out while awake, and from there developed a technique for making doors, which correlated with the interior construct becoming more real and let her physically enter it from remnant.

later on she decided that, since she could open the door in her semblance from anywhere on remnant, that door should also be able to open anywhere on remnant she felt like from the inside, and i think she spent a Long Time trying to make that work before it occurred to her that she could just… make more doors. (from the inside, a door always opens to where it was last opened from without; she still has not cracked this. but she does have a set of doors that all lead to destinations she’s “saved.”)

so she can use her semblance to travel, central location style, across remnant.

the other big thing she’s figured out how to do is use her semblance on other people, projecting herself into constructs of their minds. these aren’t real in the same way, they’re very dreamlike and fade when she withdraws, and of course she won’t have absolute control in a spatial model of someone else’s mind, but as you can imagine few of the outcomes of having salem in your head are pleasant. among other things this is how she “teaches” people how to communicate with grimm.

[hungerofhadarr]

Tagged by my friend @aphoticfairy for Wip Wednesday ( come . Play Pretend with me . It is still Wednesday . )

Since I am nervous to tag anyone for this, please feel free to take this post as your invitation to join in if you wish ! ( also tag me so I can see , pease … )

Fic wip for a fic I like to call “ Wyll and Giilvas are going to get married also Ulder is scheming and Giilvas and Ulder are going to enact psychic warfare on each other “ it’ s a great working title !

——

The Ravengard estate. A rather proud, pompous building. Overlooking the sprawling gardens and the intricate stone archways. The hedge maze was a wonderful touch, maybe, when Ulder was younger and he would race through the hedges. Now, it was an all-consuming nightmare to keep trimmed. And it proves his internal compass has… lost its skills, so to say, he’s gotten lost many more times than he will admit.

The halls come alive at known intervals, for political parties. Or political meetings. Or for political holidays. Ulder has to pause and think hard about the last time a celebration occurred in these wall and it didn’t have some form of political weight. The resounding answer being never.

But. Nevermind that. It was still a few months off before anything should be happening. The next larger, world devorning event was the Feast of the Moon, and the many little events that it managed to spawn that Ulder was left trying to herd like righteous tressyms. Which is to say, poorly, with many colourful words, and he ends up tripping over his own feet.

He had just managed to survive the screaming, meowing, forever pissed off hoard of metaphorical tressyms for Highharvestide, and was rather content to spend a few days in bed. Dead to the world. Or in his study. Dead to the world. Or in the gardens. Once again. Dead to the world.

So he was rather concerned when he awoke to a frantic set of knocks on his study door. Reading spectacles clattered on oak floor, book that was laid politely on his lap joining them, Ulder jolted to attention when one of the maids creaked the door ajar. Blue eyes peering inward like a child, checking to see if her parents are sleeping.

“Sire? We have word of visitors. I think they’ll wish to see you, when you’re available, of course.”

She doesn’t push the door open any further, but she does not close it either. Just offers a bow of the head, and her quick footsteps mark her rapid descent down the hall.

Ulder manages to blink a few times, vision taking pity and unblurring after the third try. If he can see, then he can hear. And if he can hear, he can retroactively acknowledge what the maid-girl just said. And if he can acknowledge what was just said…

By the Gods. Give him mercy.

Highharvestide had just concluded. No one was supposed to be coming around. Unless… no. No, the ball was perfect. There would be no way any self-respecting noble would send a pageboy to deliver a message of displeasure. Not so soon, anyhow.

But maids and watchguards do not go into a state of panic over a pageboy, so who could it…?

Putting the window to use, finally pushing the lovingly embroidered curtains to the side- ah, good afternoon to you as well, shower of dust- and he tries to focus his eyes to the horizon.

There is… something! There is something coming up the front path.

He needs his glasses. Damnable things.

By the time he manages to save them from their temporary spot on the cold floor, hips be damned he can manage that bend, the something is further up the path.

Ulder gives the lenses the old one-two swipe with the cloth of his shirt to get rid of anything unneeded smudges, and finally places them back on the bridge of his nose.

Oh. By the Gods.

It’s Wyll. His boy, Wyll Ravengard. Coming up the path with singed armour and a travel pack slinging over his shoulder. He’s grinning, the lingering autumn warmth slowing his pace as he approaches. He looks well. Very much so, since the last chance Ulder had to see him. Would have brought a tear to his eye. If there wasn’t a concern pushing at the base of his skull- joyous! A migraine is already coming on.

Wyll wasn’t the concern. Wyll wasn’t the reason Ulder was feeling the need to call upon the Triad.

The hulking other, a step behind his son? That was the reason.

The Golden Rose. Giilvas Quickfoot. His boy’s betrothed. Ulder’s nightmare.

Ulder wanted to scrunch his face. In fact, he does allow his nose to wrinkle and his lips to go tight. But if he can see them, they can see him. And, since the Fates have made the decision that Ulder is their current focus of tortures, Wyll’s betrothed is scarily perceptive.

So, if he was to snarl from his study, far above them, Giilvas would see it. And made sure Ulder knew.

Instead, with an air of calm and I don’t care that you’re coming up my walk and will be inside my estate, Ulder yanks the dusty old curtains back in place. Then, he allows himself to scowl at the old embroidery that dances across the fabric. He swears he can see those mismatched eyes of the Rose staring back at him in the tapestry. And he swears they’re laughing at him.

With a dizzying clarity that he, Duke Ulder Ravengard, is about to pick a fight with his curtains, he pulls away. There’s a warm rush of embarrassment across his neck. He’s acting like a child. Get it together, he scolds himself.

It is a blessing that his boy and his… boy-in-law? Were coming for a visit. They’ll probably spend the night out at the tavern, and they’ll spend only an hour or two here.

Ulder smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt, and affirms his thoughts. He would not demand Wyll stay the night here. And besides, this was just a visit. It wasn’t like the two of them were coming to the estate with world-changing news. The two of them were travellers- one of which had Ulder’s respect, but that was besides the point- they’d probably be seen leaving Baldur’s Gate by the dawn of the ‘morrow.

Now, time to take his place in the foyer, and wait for his welcomed guests to step inside.

——

“Father, we plan to be wedded!”

Ulder Ravengard was going to smash something. Over his head? Over the head of the smug man clinging to his son? Both of them?

Yes. Both of them, he decides. But, since the Fates chose that their newest decree would make it so no butler bearing two heavy bottles of wine came through the foyer at that instant, Ulder chose the high road.

He smiles, he knows it isn’t quite reaching his eyes but what can he do, and he nods like a village fool at the excitement in Wyll’s voice. There was something soft in his chest, seeing his son so… happy. He truly desires this, he wants the wedding. And he wants his father to know. It was sweet and Ulder wondered why he was so bitter a moment ago.

“Of course, this means I am here to ask for your permission, Mr. Ravengard.”

Suddenly, and without warning, Ulder Ravengard was bitter again. Wonder who caused that.

Giilvas kept a large hand almost permanently interlocked with Wyll’s, and Ulder has half a mind to tell him that Wyll isn’t going to run away on him. But the other half?

Oh.

Oh. It was planning. Spinning a web, even. Laying a dastardly trap. And the Rose would walk right into it.

“Of course. It would be wrong of me to deny you both from each other. But… May I make a request?” Ulder notes how Giilvas nods rather enthusiastically. And how Wyll nods, but slower. Brow furrowing just enough to faintly recrease his forehead. By the Helm, was he already onto him? Ulder didn’t think he was that predictable.

Well, he cannot back down now. He was the Duke, dammit. Dukes do not tuck tail and run.

“I would like to aid in the wedding. You’ll,” and Ulder locks his eyes with Wyll, making sure the fact that the you in this case is singular well known, “ have full access to our coffers for planning. We can even host the ceremony here. The garden can be kept alive by magic, you see-“

“You make it sound like we’ll be wed in the winter.” Giilvas cuts in, and Wyll eyes his father knowingly. Too knowingly. Ulder, suddenly, finds the wall behind Wyll far easier to lock eyes with.

“I was getting to that. You see, to make sure this wedding is perfect, you’ll both have to stay here. Allows us all to plan and have everything ready. It will be perfect, between Uktar thirtieth and Nightal first.”

Wyll sucks in a gasp.

“But that’s the Feast of the Moon-“

Giilvas’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, things slotting into place with Wyll’s words.

“You plan to wed us on the night for the Ball of the Moon.”

Clever boy.

“I think it would be grand. Wouldn’t it?” It also gives him the time to try and scare away the rapscallion that is trying to take his boy from him.

But, in a twist that Ulder feels more shock at the fact he did not see this coming, rather than the twist itself, Giilvas smiles at him. Not really a smile, top lip pulled too far back and it seems to refuse to reach his eyes, but he made the face all the same. It is the thought that counts.

“It’s a deal, gracious Duke Ravengard.”

Oh, the boy wishes to play the game with him? So be it.

Wyll eyes the both of them as they seal the deal with a shake. He is aware, the third party always is, but that only means Ulder will have to choose subtly. Espionage can win a war. It wasn’t like Giilvas knew how to navigate a noble home or the ecosystem of one. He has home advantage- literally.

He holds his potentially probably not son-in-law’s gaze for a few moments that last a century, seeing if he’ll shy away from the eye contact. When those mismatched eyes start to look like they’re laughing at him, Ulder releases the hand and turns to call for someone else.

“I’ll make sure a bed is prepared for you, my good man. And Wyll? Your room is the same as when you left. Make yourself comfortable once more, my son.”

He makes a mental note to tell the maid to make up Giilvas’ room on the opposite wing of the estate. Good luck avoiding squeaky floors in the night, foolboy.

For now, he guides the boys to deposit their belongings and encourages them to shed the heavier layers of armour. Might as well let them have as much comfort as they can now.

Hell stained metal and fabric collect alongside their travel bags, and Ulder holds his tongue. He will ask his son about it all later. The battles. The terrors. The cruelty. Now was not the time for any of it. Especially not when his son was still buzzing with the energy of announcing the plan for marriage.

“Father, are the gardens in good shape right now?”

Ulder knew was Wyll was asking for, and he reminded himself of the eye bags under Giilvas’ eyes. They both must be exhausted. And it would be cruel and unusual to try and being the warfare when one party was in poor condition. Ulder was nothing, if not a merciful man.

“Oh, go ahead Wyll. Everything will be taken care of in here.”

That damn warmth spread in his chest, seeing Wyll relock his hand with Giilvas’ own. He gives a tug, pulling the larger man along, and Ulder cannot help but sigh wistfully when Wyll mentions the maze to Giilvas. They’re going to get lost in there. Ulder knows it to be true.

But, with them both gone and busy, Ulder can plan with no risk of ever-watchful eyes catching him.

How does one drive away a man like Giilvas Quickfoot. It was time to delve into the worlds of speculation and trial and error.

He won’t be empty handed.

[aliasrocket]

Hey guys! Due to some … activity on the Rocket server I’m a little inspired to write a long fic (abt maybe 20k words long??? And I wanna post the whole thing in one shot so it will take a while) but wanted to see if you guys are up to the idea first.

I’ll let you guess what this is about, results are gonna be at the end of the fic—and it would be really helpful if you guys told me if you liked it so I know to write it!

He doesn’t really know how it happened.

No, it wasn’t a blur—more like vivid pictures worth 2 seconds of vague context, nothing beyond in a club, sitting at the side or watching other people getting it on.

At this point, he has to tell himself he’s not doing it for sport, it’s not that simple. Can’t be, right? There’s lot’s of assholes in the galaxy.

And then, there’s that pesky little voice in his head, nicking the insides of his skull, hissing, well, you killed the ones that mattered already.

Rocket lifts his drink to his lips and sips. He’s not looking at something in the club, though his eyes were to the ceiling on the other side of the room.

And then … nothing.

Nothing, and suddenly he’d in this black fitting cloak with a belts strapped from his shoulder blades to his collar bones and platform boots so chunky he almost passes off as your regular alien.

There’s a lot of dust by the stairs of your apartment, but there’s also a lot of crying.

Not yours, though.

Yes, one of his vivid snapshots had brought back another friend you were holding behind your back, clutching her chest with her shoulders up to her jaw.

Rocket shook his head. Oh, this is horrible. How often do you keep your wall to wall window open? And with the lights on so bright too? What if a creep had followed you back to your place? What are you to do then?

Your friend stands up from your bed, which was up against your window so Rocket had front row seats. Your hand rubbed her back the whole time, supporting her when she stood and when she took her bag to leave. Oh, shit, you’re leaving.

Rocket dove for shelter as you and your friend were down the stairs in less than five seconds, and you had called her a ride back. A wave, and you’re back on your phone while you walk up the stairs.

Oh, silly, silly you. Don’t you know how dangerous that is?

Rocket turned to leave, but before he could even take the first step, he found rusty spot in his neck—a certain pivot of it that he had to get rid of, an itch to eradicate, and now he was facing your orange-lit window again.

You had just closed the door and entered. Still on your phone. The different ways he could have you, if you were going to be so careless. He could have dreams of them.

He willed himself to take another step. A foot forward.

And that’s as far as he got. His head turned right back around, drawn to your glowing window, and it had occurred to him that the itch wasn’t in his neck.

It was in that window.

That lovely, luminous window displaying you in your barely-even-shorts shorts, your oversized t-shirt and your bare legs.

Naturally, Rocket was at your door five seconds after you had propped your legs up in a certain way on your bed. He wanted patiently, a little pin-like gadget in his hand so shiny, covered in nothing but his nail marks.

Inside, he heard another door close. The cluster of buildings in this area were one room apartments; that was the bathroom he heard.

A few taps and jabs with his lock-picker and the door opened with a pop. His gadget folded inwards as he pocketed it, his heel the first to make contact with your floor, then the rest slipped in, a shadow slick on your walls and closing the door behind him.

The first thing that made him dizzy was the faint vanilla scent coming from your bed. There were many crumples on your sheets, and your pillows had been piled on top of one another like you were rushing to ruin your bed.

You were out of the bathroom quicker than he anticipated. Not to worry though, you switched off the light right after and Rocket had already set up camp in the darkest corner. Spiders fled their homes in his arrival.

You got into bed, wiggling for a few solid minutes into the right, the perfect position that had you curled up in your thick sheets and pillows. They’re all white, like snow laying you down in its bed. It’s a real shame, though; he’s willing to bed blood doesn’t look half as flattering on white sheets.

He rose from his corner. The moon giving him a spotlight, lining his every move toward you. His hand was quick to flip his knife in the air, twirling it around his fingers—he’d cut himself if he wasn’t careful, an it was made clear by the main thin slashes on his gloves. The 120 is large for someone his size.

He finally clasped it in his fist, but the closer he got, the thicker the vanilla scent needled his nose.

Your chest moved, in out, in out. Slow. Your shirt was still too large on you, but as gravity would have it, your waist had been perfectly defined against the glint of the moonlight.

Strange.

He imagined starting at your waist.

And, he imagined … nothing.

Nothing came up, it was all white. Blurry. Where he would usually see blood and guys forming a small heart on the bed, he saw you, sleeping your hair falling to your forehead and your eyelashes fluttering.

Your eyelash fluttered and they fluttered up, and up and up—

And just like that, shot dead by a flinch and a wide-eyed look.

it’s a ghostface rocket au guys! @toiletpaperchick brought it up in the server and if I’m not wrong @glow-autumz will be posting some art soon hehehhehehehhehehhehehhehehe anyways this has consumed and rotted in my head for far too long, and I need to know if this will be worth it. I hoped you enjoyed as always, I’ll be back in november <33

[babychoko]

🌺𝔸 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥🌺

Part 13

In the last few days I have been feeling much better. I walk more often for fresh air and take medicine as well as juices to strengthen my immune system. Salty food helped me a lot. Although it was also important to drink enough fluids. And I'm talking water here, not juice with fizz.

I left the pharmacy with a small bag because I had no more room in my backpack.

Sure, it didn't do any good for the environment. But what else is harmful to the environment? What I just got from a prescription from my doctor was not necessarily worthy of bragging about in public. Otherwise I would have held the small package normally in my hand. Not to brag about it, of course.

After all, one less thing to worry about.

I looked at the clock first and realized Venti would be out of the library soon. Today I was going to pick him up and stand by. His graduation is coming up very soon and he really had his hands full. He may find the subjects easy to fall into, which may be one less problem, but it didn't mean he shouldn't type anything at all. And it's not little that he has to do.

I walked up the small stairs to the library and mistakenly pushed the glass door outward, even though it said it opened inward.

There can be signs all over the place.

Will I still push a glass door the wrong way? The answer is yes. Not proud, but not annoyed, I entered the library. Surprisingly, only a few busy students lurked in the hall. It was also quiet as usual. Only rarely was it very noisy here. Be that as it may, it didn't take me long to find Venti choosing a seat in front of the window. The view of a few people spending their usual activity outdoors apparently gave him some inspiration. And actually, I wanted to surprise him from behind by covering his eyes with my hands.

This was usually what he always does with me, should he have seen me and I didn't notice him. At the very beginning, when we didn't know each other long at all, it scared me.

But as it seemed, he turned to me with a smile even before that. That, although I was quiet as a mouse and paid attention to my step volume. I wondered how he always did that. Then it occurred to me that he must be able to detect it because of his abilities. I don't know how and I'm still slightly confused about it...but surely he can. We didn't really talk about that subject. I'm sure it came up because he rarely uses his abilities and when he does, he complains about fatigue. I was already curious, but I never asked him to show me some of the things he has in store.

"Did you come to give me strength?" Venti looked energized again. "From the looks of it, I already have..." I stated and sat down with him. My eyes fell on his laptop screen. He'd already accomplished quite a bit, I could tell. "That's right. But honestly, it's all getting to me." Venti leaned his head on the table and sighed. "Can you put me out of this misery?"

"Short and sweet? That's going to be difficult."

"No, that's not what I meant...maybe someday. I meant something gentler, though." I put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. "Like what?" Maybe I am capable of helping him at this moment after all. Otherwise, he cheered me up much more often.

He just turned his head so I couldn't see his face and muttered.

"Now out with it."

"I need to... get rid of pent up thoughts." Uh... and in what way? Wait-what thoughts?!

"So what? What do you need for that?" Maybe I can muster that certain something from somewhere after all. I'll do what I can.

Venti looked to me. "There is a way for stressed people."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

He let his face show again, which looked smug, and placed two fingers on his lips, which he pulled back into the air. "See? Hand over a few already."

"Venti, I'm not carrying cigarettes with me. Besides, cut the nonsense."

"But how then? I need to blow off steam... it's all getting too much for me. And forbid, I'm in total withdrawal!"

He means wine, right? Right... that's what I think. What else could it be?

"How long has it been..you've actually been sticking to it?" He nodded in response to my question. "More or less..definitely so much that I'm in withdrawal. And yet, the infusion therapy wasn't a success." He sighed again and hid his face. At that moment, I really felt sorry for him. I know the feeling when you try very hard and still the results are not satisfactory. And Venti looked really miserable right now.

I scrolled through his work a bit and was not surprised how much passion he has for music. Also, his grammar as well as spelling was perfect as expected. However, the last few lines really slacked off and at some point you realize he completely gave up when not even a sentence was finished. Poor guy. Rarely do you see this sight.

He deserves a reward, of course. "Listen Venti, you don't have to torture yourself like this. You're trying very hard and you've kept at it for a long time..." He was already looking at me with slight hope. He's just waiting for that one sentence. I swear... even his eyes were already sparkling. And why does the sun suddenly start to give him light as if he were a saint?!

"I'm not your boss, and ironically I say that, but you should sit back now with-"

"With a couple of glasses?!"

"Yeah, just that."

He flipped his laptop closed, but of course after saving his work. "Then it's decided. Today we blow off steam!" I didn't see him cheer up that quickly.

"Tonight, okay?"

"Okay...I'll go with you." Not that he's drunk talking to a garbage can. I experienced that once with a tree and it looked really sad. He even thought a tree was more attractive than me. "Thank you, I'm glad. Come, let me give you a hug." No sooner said than done. "And I'm not hugging you because of tonight... just because I missed this, yeah?" Whispered Venti to me.

If he missed this badly...

I ended up putting my arms around him. "Mhm..me too. Honestly, I've been feeling empty lately." I confessed slightly embarrassed.

"Hoo..empty you say?" Venti leaned back a bit to the back of the chair. "Empty..I see."

I looked to the side a bit as Venti gently put his hands on my shoulder and pulled me to him. "Yeah...if I can put it that way-m..."

He hushed me with his lips, licked once over it briefly with the tip of his tongue, and now gently bit my lower lip with it. It made my whole body tingle.

"Mwah~, all better, right?"

I was speechless and hoped no one was walking by. Honestly, I couldn't get a word out. It was just unexpected...

Venti formed a V sign with his thumb and pointer finger under his chin and winked at me with a smile. "Heheh... I'll give you more later if you like!"

When I spoke of emptiness, I didn't think of that, but...it surprisingly helped. "Uhh..fine with me..?

We had some things to do, so we won't meet at a bar until later.

I didn't know if that was a serious question. With him, it was always unclear whether he meant such things ironically. Believe us or not, Venti and I actually kiss very rarely. And when we do, it's only a fleeting kiss. Nothing longer, nothing naughty....

I briefly looked at the cloudless sky.

All right, once it had not exactly been innocent between us. But more was and came also nothing. His ways of love are rather totally harmless.

Then I thought of a question, whether Venti had had a relationship before me? Until now he has not mentioned or hinted at anything. I have also never asked about an ex. Actually, you don't talk about your ex either. After all, he is a bit older than me, has experienced a lot in contrast to me, many people find him likeable and he doesn't seem to be unpopular either. In terms of relationships, he is a total sweetheart....

Wait, didn't he once tell me about the most beautiful poem he had ever read? As far as I can remember, it was from a girl who was too shy to let him read it.

So there is a very high probability that Venti already had his first love.

I continued my walk, feeling a slight and uncomfortable tug in my chest.

And what if? It shouldn't bother me. After all, he has his own life and I have mine....

I guess I'm worrying unnecessarily again. It's the time here and now that counts, and unlike before, I'm no longer completely miserable.

And even though I told myself that, I was lying to myself.

Towards evening, I was finally free and searched my not-quite-full closet. It's not so cold anymore, so could I wear something light? I picked out a blouse and a long skirt until I realized that what I had in my hands didn't look stylish at all. Venti always has nice clothes.

I often had to listen to people saying that I dressed like a granny. I shook my head and looked deeper into the baskets of my closet.

There was a skirt that I ordered once, but it looked way too short..there it is!

Oh. It's actually short in contrast to what length I usually wear. Hesitantly, I looked at the piece.

Yup, definitely going with tights. I mean I might catch a cold or something haha. That's right, I don't want to catch a cold. I definitely don't wear the skirt because I'm embarrassed or too shy!

Okay...as a top, I could wear a fancy sweater..would this one be okay? I couldn't make that decision until I had the whole outfit on. So here goes.

I put on the tights..no, no...

They're see-through! I took them off again.

I sighed and grabbed a razor from the drawer. Actually, Venti wasn't interested in how a body looked at all. He's more the natural type though... I don't even possess that much self-confidence.

Uh, quick change of plans or commercial break. Whatever you call it.

After leaving the bathroom with silky smooth legs, I now put on the clothes.

As I said, I didn't have any self-confidence at all. It looked all right... but on me? I bent down slightly to test that one did not see under my skirt. Honestly, I don't want to put on a show and just wanted to make sure.

After a while, I walked out of the apartment when I was done. Did I want to make sure so badly today that I didn't look like a granny? I honestly wondered since when I started worrying so much. Just for this one special evening then. After all, it was all about not holding back. And that only went for drinks, nothing else.

I took the bus and only had to walk a few feet before I saw the lounge. A few people were standing outside smoking as they chatted about news. I only fleetingly heard what they were talking about. Something like, "I don't believe in that at all. Sounds like something out of a bad book..." or, "If you only knew what else existed...".

Apparently, a mysterious person is being sought. Police searches have not been successful so far. I think that from now on I should watch more news TV or listen to the radio with Venti. I must have missed some things in the world.

As I walked on and reached the entrance, the warmth of the lounge and the dim red lights of the room hit me. A few groups sat at a four-top table with comfy couches, a few people preferred the tall chairs in front of the counter, and others stood casually.

"(Name)!" I turned around and was surprised with a hug and the light, pleasant scent from the forest. I returned the hug fleetingly. "Hey..." Venti, as always, had a casual but fashionable style of dress. A slightly oversized green cardigan with a white shirt and brown pants with a belt. The green hat is not to be missed.

We sat next to each other in a quiet alcove. Here you can talk in peace and others will certainly not interrupt us. Somehow I am glad to see him again today. Lately we saw each other rather rarely and we were very busy with other activities.

Oh... am I that dependent on him?

"Today it's all on me. Do you know what you want yet, (Name)?" He looked at the card for a moment, then handed it to me. Somewhat reluctantly, I took the drink menu and took a quick look inside. Then I looked over at him. "I think I'll have the fruit drinks..."

"Eehh..? But I'd like to see the drunk (Name) sometime..." Sighed Venti, leaning his head on my left shoulder. "Not gonna happen!" I said decidedly and folded the card shut.

"Besides, I should be watching you more." I added. What about if he does any shenanigans and I can't find him?

Or worse, he's drunkenly talking to a tree again.

"Subtle as ever." Venti stated quietly, looking to me. "I like that about you." He doesn't elaborate and accept that? He really is a godsend. I've heard so many stories from friends back then and one thing I can say...it wasn't pretty. I am really happy to have him.

But because I didn't know how to respond, I suggested that we order the drinks now.

"Ah, they even have candy!!!"

"Alright then, let's order some candy to go with it." After all, it's supposed to be a relaxing evening tonight. "Pick some out, here." I get to pick?

"Do you actually know what you want yet, Venti?" I asked, looking at the offerings. Jellybeans, Konpeito....

"Anything will do. Especially apple flavored." I propped my cheeks up with one hand and ruffled his hair with the other. "You're so quick to settle for anything." I stated. When he looked to me, I was sure he had slightly rosy cheeks.

Oh yeah, before I forget.

In the end, I didn't cut his beautiful hair after all. I advised him to sleep on it for a night. Venti was a little conflicted until he did listen to my advice and didn't have it cut. His hair was back to the style it was when I first saw him.

He was just Venti and that suited him too. The braided hair with the blue tips. He told me that at least the blue tips should be back on. He really didn't seem to like himself with the black braids. His reasoning was that he didn't have any fond memories with them.

For some reason, my first thought was that he wanted to avoid a certain look. Maybe...because he doesn't want to look like someone? Honestly, I can't explain why I thought that. I have no idea.

"Let's just order the Konpeito." I decided and turned to Venti, who looked at me in amazement. "You're eating those? Since when?" Funny question. "I don't know, it's been a long time. But I eat them rather rarely, because they're way too sweet for me. "Don't you like them a little, Venti?" He shook his head with a smile. "No, it's not like that. I haven't had them in a very long time either. What are we waiting for?". After much back and forth chatter, the drinks were on our table.

I didn't expect the bottom of the glasses to light up. At first I thought the drinks were poisonous. But these are glasses that start to glow as soon as they are filled with liquid. They really looked very cool. Especially, with the little umbrellas and ice cubes made of heart shapes.

I tried a sip and thankfully the juice didn't taste funny. As very strange as the combination was....

"I totally forgot to ask this, but how have you been lately? Have you...actually seen a doctor yet?"

"About that..yes, I have been. It's been stressful." I left out the fact that I was diagnosed with burnout for now. I didn't want to ruin the night with worry. But knowing him, I'm sure he already knows that. "That's why I should get reduced hours."

Venti put his hands on his hips. "And you keep those nicely!"

"Yes, sir."

"But the nausea is gone, thankfully, I see?" And how. I'm really relieved about that. It's been pure hell.

"Yeah, thanks again for your support. I don't know what I would have done without you. Really now."

"Oh, don't mention it!" Venti took a sip and looked like the happiest man alive. "Did I miss this..." He muttered, seeming to be in his own world.

"Go ahead..." I said quietly and patted his head. I took a Konpeito and brought it to my lips. I looked around a little bit and observed the other guests. No one was getting into mischief. Everyone was very relaxed and enjoying their free time with friends. I ate the Konpeito and looked at someone sitting on one of the high chairs. It really stood out. Did I look as lonely back in college...?

I think it was a young man. Maybe my age? He had an unusual haircut, but I couldn't make out the hair colour because of the LED light. He seems to be the only one here alone. Just as I picked up the second Konpeito, the person jerked up and turned slowly..

Towards my direction.

As someone walked past me, the young man had disappeared off the face of the earth. I could not see his face. This moment simply passed much too quickly

I looked again to the same place, but there was really nobody sitting anymore. Did I just imagine that? No...that would have been impossible.

Was it because of my burnout? Did I reach for the wrong drink after all? To confirm this theory, I looked at my glass. No, it certainly wasn't that either. I'm absolutely sure of that.

"Say Venti, can you try a sip?" Uncertain, I held my glass up to him. Without hesitation, he accepted the glass, our fingers touching. "If you want it so badly..."

He raised the glass to his lips and tasted a sip. Then he looked to me with a clueless smile. "Hmm..It's just juice, if that's what you wanted to know. Was that what you were worried about?"

"Actually, it was. I just felt funny."

"Do you want to get some fresh air? That group of people over there have been smoking the hookah for a while...are you getting any air?" He then suggested to me. In response, I shook my head. "No, that's fine and doesn't bother me. You just know my paranoid self." He slid a little closer to me and placed my glass so that the rim he just drank from touched my lips.

"You can relax with me. I'll stay with you, okay?" His voice was soothing. I nodded in response. took the glass in my hands and drank a sip from it. He was right...there are a lot of people here, after all. Besides, I was severely sleep-deprived, so much so that I actually imagined some things. If I only thought about lying comfortably in bed at night... then I could hardly wait.

I should pull myself together, for the sake of my health.

I set the glass down on the table and looked to him with a smile. "I'll order some more. How about you?"

He held the drink menu in front of me and looked over the rim with twinkling eyes. "Oh, I see, you want the number six again?" I then asked him.

"I'd say more like I should take number 8. But better I take the whole row!" I didn't know what he meant at first, but blamed it on the alcohol that he can say confusing stuff.

After a few drinks, we sat close to each other. He had his head leaning on my shoulder and looked content. "Have you had enough?"

"I could use a few more glasses, but my wallet is showing a definite stop." Typical!

"I didn't know you could take so much after all, Venti." He could easily be entered in the book of world records. I am very sure that no one else could beat him in it. I'm so sure about that.

"Hehe, I'll take that as a compliment." Positive as always. "You do that, fine by me."

We had so much fun that we completely forgot about the time. We even made friends with a few other people over time. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood. It started with them thinking Venti was my best friend at first...that we were both girls having a good time. We were going to be treated to a nice evening and bought some drinks. I had never been hit on like that in my life and I really didn't know what to say. Inside, I was panicking.

Luckily Venti came to the rescue and put a hand around my shoulders and after a few drinks on them that the waiter brought us, laughingly clarified that he is actually my boyfriend.The group of guys were speechless for a few seconds, but then they started laughing and cheering for us, which I thought was funny. This clearly happens often with him. He wasn‘t mad one bit.

They were actually totally happy about us and left after a few minutes.

"Now we can stay longer!"

"You really take advantage of everything in your path." I sighed. Give him inches and he'll take miles!

Venti and I talked longer about pointless stuff while we had our shoes off and sat comfortably on the couches next to each other. I watched curiously as he tried a hookah. When I realized it wasn't his thing after all, I patted him on the back comfortingly. As much as they could smell pleasantly of apple..I still passed, waving a hand and shaking my head with a laugh. He stuck his tongue out with a bitter look on his face. He sticks to real apples himself. They are sacred to him!

And at some point we talked about not-so-senseless stuff. He told me that he was already sad about being done with university soon. He would miss it already if he couldn't spend the time there together with me as usual. I felt the same way.

But he is really happy about the fact that he won't have much writing work to do anymore. At least as a music therapist not as much as in the university. However, he wants to continue playing music freely for others before he looks for a permanent job.

Anyway, he has earned that. He has already studied so much, even if he didn't like it.

A break after graduation...? I haven't had a specific plan for how I want to spend my time off. I myself am graduating soon. But it might be a little while yet. Venti suggested that I could sell my handmade things. Or the flowers he had growing around his cottage. He knew an area nearby that would be very happy to have something like that. I thought it was a nice idea. I kept that idea in the back of my mind.

We took a cab to his home as the night came to an end. We had had enough fun and were getting really tired. I totally forgot about the worries from the evening. Besides, he hadn't had a chance to talk to a tree. Good thing!

"Are you happy?"

"Totally!" He replied tipsily as he lay with his head on my lap. He meanwhile raised his arms in the air and chuckled with slightly flushed cheeks.

"Are you drunk?"

"I don't think so..or maybe a little." He whispered and sat up in front of me. Just a little?!

"(Name), I didn't tell you, but I wanted to tell you that these clothes really suit you..." He now looked at my denim skirt. "Huh..you..you usually wear much longer and looser skirts though?" He just noticed that now?! "Yeah, I..just wanted to try something different on. Does it look weird on me?"

"Not at all!" He immediately denied. Then he smiled at me. "So don't say something like that and wear what you like, okay? The important thing is that you feel comfortable in it." At that, I took him in my arms and sighed. "Sometimes you can be really adorable."

"(Name)..."

"What now?"

"I almost completely forgot my promise!" I didn't know what he meant at first. "What promise?" He put his arms around my neck and chuckled as he moved closer to me.

"..That I'll give you more of it..so hold still, okay?"

"Huh? More? W..what?"

He closed his eyes and moved his lips closer to mine. His hands lightly stroked under my top up my back higher and higher.

It wasn't until he fell right asleep on top of me that I checked what he meant.

Oh, that!

I pushed him aside, put a pillow under his head and covered him with his blanket. He seemed to have really had his fun and was sleeping soundly with a contented look on his face.

"I'll just keep your promise then." I bent down to him and placed a kiss on his forehead.

That day, I felt like I was getting closer to Venti. And that, although we always had nice moments together. I couldn't explain it either. Maybe it was because he will soon be finished with university and I only now realized how quickly the time passed. This seems to make me appreciate moments more.

The rest of the days passed peacefully and I kept to my reduced hours. I rejected further measures offered to me by the doctor. Some measures I found a bit too extreme. Time off from the university, for example. Then I would worry more about forgetting a lot of things. Besides, I had to admit that I also wanted to get my degree as soon as possible..

I didn't want it to come to this at all.

It wasn't easy to change adapted habits at first. That's why I started slowly.

Going straight home after my classes and taking a nap after watching series I totally left behind was my favorite activity lately.

And have I missed a lot..Lucky that so far there have been no spoilers. Otherwise I wouldn't be surprised by some of the scenes. It's not just the same feeling.

I was actually relaxed a long period of time. Yes, was.

Until that evening.

I had been on late shift at the café and was happy to see some colleagues again. Actually, I prefer early duty because it's much quieter on a weekday. I could work more slowly then. It's a disaster on the weekend! That's when my team has a lot to fight for.

Actually, my day was going quite well. Until I remembered after work that I forgot a folder in the café. When I arrived, my manager was standing there with a smile on her lips, shaking her head and holding the folder. Sheepishly, I took the folder.

"Now go home, it's very late. Enjoy your weekend and have a good time!" I thanked her and made my way home.

It was still pitch black outside and cold because of the time of year. I was kind of hoping that the warm spring would come a little faster. Because now it was still cold. A cold spring. The flowers were already showing themselves.

I walked along the dark street and noticed nothing at first. Sometimes I looked at my phone to check the time. In a few minutes my bus should come and I could make it to the bus stop in time. If the bus driver didn't arrive way too early.

For a time free marked by worry, I was suddenly overcome with goosebumps. At first I thought it was because of the cold. Then I realized it was a shiver down my spine. I didn't usually get a shiver down my spine just like that. I even felt a slight pressure in my ears. A queasy feeling arched in my stomach and I suddenly felt unease.

My steps slowed down. Was it my gut feeling?

I stopped at one point and didn't move when I heard soft footsteps. I didn't know from where they came. But I still heard them clearly. Hesitantly I tried to look around, but I saw nothing.

After a few seconds I plucked up my courage and continued walking a little faster. I told myself that it was surely just another pedestrian and that I was imagining everything.

But a feeling deep inside me denied this too much. I had never felt anything like that before.

I looked around and saw it only for a few seconds.

In fact, I saw the outline of a person, quite far away from me. It was standing between the trees in the park.

At that very moment, a shiver stabbed me again all over my back like a knife.

I want to leave.

At that moment I got the impulse to walk faster, much faster.

Was I running now? Never mind. I just had to get away. I didn't feel how I was breathing or if I was breathing at all.

I ignored my surroundings so much that I didn't hear the sound of a motorcycle next to me and was startled when it stopped next to me.

"(Name)?"

For a moment I held my breath and could have sworn I saw my life flash before my eyes.

That voice..

I looked hesitantly to my left, where the road was. I didn't recognize the man in black clothes sitting on the motorcycle. He seemed to have noticed that and took off his helmet. My eyes widened a bit as I now recognized who he was.

"Xiao...?"

"Why are you running around the street like a madwoman in a panic at this hour?"

I couldn't answer at first. I didn't know what to say either. My legs gave out and I stopped myself at a fence.

"Hey, what happened?" He got off the motocycle, put his helmet on the seat and walked towards me. Then he calmly put a hand on my shoulder as he bent down to me.

Part 14

Masterlist

[moonlit-reveriee]

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[thebadbatch]

Hunter x FemJedi!Reader

Plot: You're a jedi, the next chosen one after Anakin Skywalker. You're paying a lot of attention to Tech and his curious questions but Hunter wants the attention on him.

Warnings: Light jealousy but cute!

------------------

My chosen one.

Being a jedi was nothing new to you, even as the chosen one. The last chosen one to hold this weight of the galaxy upon their shoulders was a man named Anakin Skywalker who eventually ended up a part of the dark side. Once you were born you already had an overpowering connection with the force, you always understood and trusted one another. People were wary of you of course, they didn't want you to turn to the dark side like Anakin once did but you were different. The light side of the force ran through your veins, power coursing through you at all times - you are the strongest warrior within the galaxy and many civilians even saw you as a goddess. Once Order 66 had occurred, you were one of the few remaining Jedi left and the Empire wanted you. Constantly on the chase, you met a group of enhanced clones who were also on the run from both the Empire and bounty hunters. Eventually you had agreed to join them, protecting each member as well as their little sister Omega who was a constant target. It had been months of running and protection along with many beautiful memories you couldn't help but hold close to your heart, the group still strongly curious about your force abilities. In fact, you were sitting in the cockpit beside the member Tech with Omega at his side both of whom were asking non-stop questions.

"You're the chosen one?" Tech had asked, leaning forward in complete disbelief with the datapad he cherished laying tightly in his grip. "Like Anakin Skywalker?"

"The chosen one?" Omega echoed, staring at Tech for any answers to her question knowing that he always held the answers. "Who's Anakin?" You laughed lightly, clutching to the robes that covered your skin. 

"Anakin is the previous chosen one, unfortunately things didn't go to plan." You paused for a moment to watch Tech frantically type into his datapad. "I'm the next chosen one, me and the force are close and we're determined to end the Empire." Omega gasped lightly before gazing over Tech's arms to see what he was looking at.

"You're worshipped as a Goddess - I apologize for my abruptness but this is truly Incredible." He took a moment to scan his eyes over the datapad, "May I ask why you didn't say sooner?" Standing, you straightened your clothes out and ensured that your lightsaber was against your side.

"I wasn't sure if I could trust you all, but it's clear that I can now." You shared a slight smile with them before turning to face the door Hunter was about to walk through. As soon as the door opened, Tech joined you at your side with Omega rushing to his side. "Hi Hunter!" You grinned, fiddling with the sleeve of your robe. Truth be told, you had developed strong feelings for Hunter overtime, something about him just felt So right. The force practically glowed around him, clearly agreeing with your feelings.

"Hunter, y/n is the chosen one." Tech blurted out as he watched Hunter's eyes narrow slightly at you as he wracked through his thoughts for a moment.

"The chosen one?" Omega nodded and smiled,

"It means that she's going to stop the Empire!" He grinned at her and ruffled her hair before facing you three, Techs eyes fixed upon you with a light blush across his cheeks. Hunter rolled his eyes lightly, gently moving to stand closer to you.

"She's seen as a goddess to multiple planets and rightfully so, her force capabilities are beyond anybody's understanding." Hunter watched as a blush coated against your own cheeks which made jealousy practically fill his lungs as he inhaled a sharp breath. He hated watching Tech fall for you whilst Hunter loved you and always had done. 

"A Goddess huh?" You heard the sharp breath he took inwards before turning toward them, "Anyway, Tech and Omega could you tend to the repairs on the hyperdrive? Just whilst I brief y/n on our next mission." Hunter's hand soon held yours as he pulled you lightly to the bunks. You felt in the force that something felt off - there was an abundance of emotion coming from him via the force and you couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong. 

Once the doors slid shut behind you both you watched as Hunter paced lightly between the bunks.

"Hunter?" Your voice alone sliced through the rapidly building tension, "This isn't about the mission is it?" He immediately came to an abrupt stop, face within his hands before he shook his head.

"No but I-I need to talk to you. Please." Nodding lightly, you sat on top of his bunk, lightly patting the white sheets beneath you for him to sit. Once he sat beside you his hands began to nervously fidget with his knife which made you smile. You had grown to adore the habits he had, they felt almost enchanting.

"Go ahead, I'm here to listen." Without a moment's notice, his voice soon went through the air once your voice had stopped.

"I want you to be my chosen one, y/n." Your heart instantly knocked against your chest within a sudden rapid heartbeat with your cheeks heating up.

"Your chosen one?" You repeated, feeling his heart race and warm yet timid emotions through the force. He nodded whilst running his fingers through his hair, eyes avoiding your own.

"Yeah… I want to be with you. I want to spend my lifetime with you and I just-" Allowing a large smile to grace your lips, you held his cheeks so that his gaze was finally fixed upon your own. To cut his anxious rambling off you pressed your lips to his own in a short yet loving kiss. 

"You know I love you too right?" His eyes widened once your lips left his own, a smile soon reaching his own lips too.

"You do? I thought you liked Tech?" You laughed lightly, shaking your head as you held his hands. His fingertips intertwined with your own, his emotions only warmth and joy.

"He's like a best friend, but you? I want to spend my forever with you too…" Your voice trained off as the smile against your face grew bigger. "As your chosen one." With that, his lips met yours once again in a more passionate kiss - any words not previously said being shared through the kiss.

"My chosen one."

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 12 - ao3 -

The dinner lasted until late, late enough that Lan Qiren had to make his excuses and even then only just barely got back to his room in time to fall asleep at the appropriate hour; he didn’t even have enough time to do more than remove his shoes and outer layer before his eyes had closed.

Surprisingly, unlike most social dinners in Lan Qiren’s memory, it hadn’t been awful. Most of that had been thanks to Lao Nie, whose exuberance, as he’d suspected, could carry just about any social interaction to victory. After exhausting himself in thinking of ever more increasingly ridiculous toasts and forcing Wen Ruohan to drink them – they’d switched to wine at some point, although to Lan Qiren’s relief neither offered him any – Lao Nie had turned the subject to the type of music appropriate to be played at a wedding feast, and his opinions on music were, as always, so horrifically wrong that even Lan Qiren had been lured into arguing with him.

At some point, the conversation had shifted to the subject of marriage and weddings more generally, though to Lan Qiren’s relief both men clearly considered him too young to have thoughts about his own future in that regard the way his teachers might have. Instead, they’d spoken about the origins of various wedding traditions – there were some that Lan Qiren had thought were set in stone and handed down from ancient times which Wen Ruohan could recall having seen invented within his lifetime, which was a fascinating advantage of age that Lan Qiren had not previously considered.

It was equally interesting to see Wen Ruohan at his most charming. It was not a mask that the sect leader bothered putting on very often, as far as Lan Qiren knew, and it was a mask, one that was a little loose around the edges – even Lan Qiren could tell. Wen Ruohan would say the right words a beat too late, with his eyes a little too focused and his smile a little too sharp to be believed; his quips were a little too cutting and his suggestions just a little beyond the boundaries of common decency, his cruelty and indifference leaking out around the edges of even a casual chat with people he considered friends.

But at the same time, it was difficult to deny that he was brilliant. Regardless of whether he’d obtained his superior cultivation through dark and dirty means or not, he’d been the master of his sect and about a third of the cultivation world for at least a generation already, and no one managed that without being extremely clever and more than a little ruthless.

It made for interesting conversation, if one beset with a constant feeling of danger…

“I hope you enjoyed the bed.”

Lan Qiren nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, spinning around to stare at Wen Ruohan standing just within the doorway to Lan Qiren's room – he hadn’t heard him open the door, nor close it behind him. The other man was in his wedding finery, the brilliant fiery red of his sect turned to joyous purpose, and yet there was something sinister in his self-assured smile.

“The – bed?” Lan Qiren repeated blankly, and glanced at it. “It was…fine?”

“You complained, last time,” Wen Ruohan said, continuing to stroll into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “Too hard, I believe you said…I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lan Qiren vaguely recalled having said something along those lines and blushed in shame. “It’s fine,” he said. “I slept deeply and well. Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Wen Ruohan said. “You and I are brothers, are we not? My every thought should be of you.”

That didn’t sound quite right.

Before he could say anything, though, Wen Ruohan clicked his tongue lightly and stood in front of him, looking him up and down. “Your Lan sect’s formal clothing is truly a masterpiece of the embroidered arts,” he said. “A brilliant sight – especially all in white.”

Lan Qiren lowered his head, embarrassed again. If pressed, he would argue that his clothing was a little more silver than pure white, so he wasn’t actually dressed in mourning colors, but it couldn’t be denied that he was much closer than most, making it a little inappropriate for a wedding. Unfortunately, he only owned the one set of formal clothes, and there hadn’t been time to commission another; there was nothing for it.

“I like it,” Wen Ruohan said unexpectedly, his hands settling on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. Lan Qiren looked up and was caught by that intense red gaze. “My sect colors are red and white, after all – just like the two of us. A matched set.”

His hands burned too hot on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.

“White is a traditional color for the Lan sect as well,” Lan Qiren said, and his voice only quavered a little bit. “Anyway, it’s…mostly grey.”

“White,” Wen Ruohan disagreed. “As pristine as a pearl resting in the palm of your hand.”

His thumbs pressed lightly just by Lan Qiren’s collarbone. There were acupoints there, he thought, although he was having trouble recalling which ones or what they did.

“Yes, a pearl is truly the most apt comparison,” Wen Ruohan mused. “Simple and natural, yet shining with its own luster – I’d thought rubies, to make you fit to my taste, but perhaps pearls will suit you better.”

“I have no need for jewels,” Lan Qiren said, a little alarmed. Had Wen Ruohan really drunk so much the night before that he was still intoxicated, confusing his new sworn brother and his new bride?

“And yet I may wish to give them to you,” Wen Ruohan said. “Surely you won’t deny me – after all, I need to repay you for the charming gift you gave to me.”

Lan Qiren had a sinking feeling.

“Uh,” he said. “You saw it? Already?”

He’d searched the room briefly earlier that morning for the personal gift he’d bought for Wen Ruohan, intending on packaging the bowls away in his return clothing – why hadn’t it occurred to him to simply give it away to one of his fellow disciples, or even to trade or sell it? That way he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by giving such a simple gift amidst all the opulent luxury of the Nightless City.

It seemed, however, that it was too late for that.

“Oh yes,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “A set of drinking bowls, painted with a flowing border reminiscent of vermilion birds – made by your own hand?”

“I only applied the glaze,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “There was another gift, too –”

“I have dozens of golden crowns of better make and greater utility,” Wen Ruohan said dismissively. “Such a heavy thing. If you told me that you’d picked it yourself, I wouldn’t believe you.”

“No, I did pick –”

“Without constraint? Or from a selection of predetermined choices, each one deemed ‘appropriate’?”

Lan Qiren fell silent.

“Do not tell lies,” Wen Ruohan said, rolling the familiar rule in his mouth as if tasting a wine of fine vintage. “Yes, the guan is a very appropriate gift, neither too distant nor too familiar, too rich or too restrained, perfectly reasonable yet conveying nothing, giving nothing away...I’m quite certain your brother picked it out. But you were the one who picked the bowls, weren’t you? Did you pay for them yourself?”

Lan Qiren felt certain that the conversation was leading to some sort of trap, but he didn’t know what, or how, or how to evade it. “I did,” he admitted. “With my sect allowance.”

“How many months’ worth did it cost you?”

Lan Qiren thought back, calculating. “About three?”

He’d thought to get something nice enough that he wouldn’t lose face in giving it, though naturally he’d underestimated the luxury of the Nightless City. Still, it wasn’t as though he needed the money for much, anyway. The sect supplied him with basic clothing and gear, equipment to tend to his sword and musical instruments, and even access to books; he did not buy himself too many luxuries beyond that. Other than the fees he paid for various sect purposes, it was really only the occasional trinket that caught his eye or rare books on foreign musical techniques that he purchased with his own money.

It wasn’t anything like a sacrifice, not really, but Wen Ruohan still looked pleased about it, smug and satisfied as a cat right after the hunt.

“Three months’ worth,” he murmured, and his hands which were somehow still on Lan Qiren’s shoulders slid inexorably inwards to rest on the sides of his throat. “Even assuming you were extraordinarily parsimonious, little Lan, you could only save a third at a time; that’s nine months of your life that you spent for me. Nearly a twentieth of all the months you’ve lived so far.”

What a strange way to calculate time.

It wasn’t even right, since Lan Qiren had turned seventeen in the interval and that made the interval closer to a twenty-fifth than a twentieth, but also – who thought like that, treating time like a percentage, as if it could be measured and spent like coin? Perhaps it was simply that Wen Ruohan was so old already…and perhaps that, in turn, was why he looked at him so strangely, so unnervingly –

Lan Qiren swallowed, decided he didn’t need his pride more than he needed to get away, and ducked out of Wen Ruohan’s loose grip.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” he asked, turning and pretending to fuss with his robes to avoid making eye contact. “It’s the morning of your wedding.”

“Indeed it is,” Wen Ruohan said from behind him. He was standing too close: Lan Qiren could feel his breath on the back of his head. “Tell me, little Lan – little brother. What do you think of my marriage?”

Lan Qiren hesitated.

“The truth, if you will,” Wen Ruohan added. “I would hate for the purity of our relationship to be tainted by misdirection, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to lie.”

His voice was mild and even, almost sweet, and Lan Qiren was abruptly convinced that it was far more threatening than any of Lao Nie’s rages or his brother’s ice-cold sarcasms.

“I think you made it up to distract people from swearing brotherhood with me,” he said, turning back to face his fears and sworn brother, and felt his face go red as he realized how self-involved that made him sound. But it was what he thought, and Wen Ruohan had asked him not to lie. “You made a mistake, underestimated people’s reactions, and Lao Nie yelled at you because it was affecting your reputation and mine, so you came up with a better story and made everyone else believe it.”

Wen Ruohan hummed. “What an interesting theory. You don’t think the engagement was merely kept private before being revealed at an appropriate time?”

“No.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “If I’m wrong, of course, I’m wrong. But you asked what I thought.”

“Is that why you got me a gift?” Lan Qiren, surprised, glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still smiling. “To thank me for clearing up the mess I made of your reputation?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re getting married,” Lan Qiren said, bemused. “What does my reputation have to do with anything? You’re not the one making everyone gossip, and even if you were, you cleaning up something you did is only what you should do. I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

This time, Wen Ruohan gave a little huff of amusement, and he sounded almost surprised. “Charmingly blunt.”

“You told me not to lie or misdirect!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, feeling betrayed.

Now Wen Ruohan was chuckling in earnest. “Ah, little Lan,” he said. “Someone is going to get you into trouble one day, and it may very well be me…you’re right, you know.”

“What?”

“About the wedding,” he said lazily, and put a hand on top of Lan Qiren’s head. “Both in terms of motivation and timing. You’re entirely right, except for one part.”

“What part?”

His fingers tightened, the too-sharp nails digging into Lan Qiren’s scalp and pulling at his hair until his head was forced back to look up at Wen Ruohan.

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Wen Ruohan said. His eyes were boring into Lan Qiren’s own, the pressure of his will strong, as insistent as his voice. “You were not a mistake, little Lan. You’re mine.”

“Of course I am,” Lan Qiren said, suddenly irritated for no reason he could tell. “Your sworn brother. Doesn’t the whole world know it by now?”

“Mm. I suppose they do.”

“And on that note,” Lan Qiren said, “what are the terms, anyway? I never got to see them.”

“The – terms?”

“Of our brotherhood! My brother confiscated the paper you gave me before I could look it over, and naturally I don’t remember, so you have to give me another copy. I think I’m entitled to one, since I’m a part of it, and presumably you did the drafting. Was it one of the classical oaths? Which clauses were included? Provisions? Curses? Was there any consideration of – stop laughing!”

Wen Ruohan had released Lan Qiren’s hair in order to brace himself on the wall, he was laughing so hard. Laughing with big laughs that came up from his belly and stuck in his throat, and no matter what Lan Qiren said he didn’t say one single thing in response. Lan Qiren eventually gave up with a huff and stormed out.

Let the irritating bastard be late to his own wedding, for all he cared.

[infinitelysordinary]

who has the biggest base on empires smp? (as of july 1st, 2021)

a somewhat in-depth mathematical deep dive into empire smp’s bases

THE CONTEXT.

for the past two weeks or so, scott (also known as: scott smajor, smajor, smajor1995, dangthatsalongname, and branding nightmare) has been building up his second base, effectively taking down his starter house.

most of this building occured during his streams, where he often proclaimed that he thought he was building the “biggest base on the server.” when his third empires smp video came out on june 26, 2021, his titled said “The Biggest Base on the Server! - Minecraft Empires SMP - Ep.03.”

however, the day after, joel (aka smallishbeans) uploaded his fourth episode of empires smp, titled “Building My House! | Empires SMP | Ep.4 (1.17 Survival).” within this video, he claimed that he had the biggest house on the empires smp server. he even went as far as to trap an afk scott in a cage of stone, and writing out three signs asking scott to change the title of his recent video.

[Image Description: A zoomed in screenshot from Joel’s newest video. The screenshot was taken within Scott’s house. There are two walls shown and a birch floor. In the middle, there are three oak signs. Joel’s crosshair is on the middle sign.

The first sign says: “Hello Scott, please can you change your video title as”

The second sign says: “It says you have the biggest base. This is wrong. My base is bigger”

The third sign says: “Come have a look if you want. - Joel”]

so, that begs the question: who has the biggest base on the empires smp out of scott and joel?

THE SEMANTICS.

now, for the purposes of today’s adventure, we’re only going to be counting the volume within the base. this does not include windows, outside accents, bridges, gardens, walls, doorways, or anything else that is not within the confines of the base itself. floors and/or divides do not count towards the total, as they take up space and are not “easily moved.”

the only exception is balconies--the space on a balcony counts towards the total, though that space is counted differently. on enclosed balcony, i.e. a balcony that is surrounded by fences and has a roof-like structure that blocks out rain, all the space that fits between the fences, the roof, and the floor count.

on an open balcony, i.e. a balcony that only has fences and a floor, with no roof, only the two blocks of air on top of the floor and in between the fences count.

similarly, both of their bases are defined by their respective houses that they built during the episode. their farms, tents, bridges, and any other structure that they have built previous do not count towards the total.

i will be only using screenshots from their own videos, e.g., i will use scott’s video (published june 26, 2021) to find the volume of his base, and use joel’s video (published june 27, 2021) to find the volume of his base. anything that scott has added between his video and joel’s will not be counted, neither will anything that either of them created after the fact.

i will not be counting joel’s most recent video, titled “Pranking Lizzie, Interiors & Windmills! | Empires SMP | Ep.5 (1.17 Survival)”, because that was uploaded when i was writing this analysis. like, after i finished all my counting, but when i was writing this post. so, uh-

also, i am not counting anyone else’s bases within this experiment, though i do believe others have similarly sized bases. the other creators not a part of this post until they officially get involved in the ‘rivalry’

THE METHOD.

first of all, volume is calculated in minecraft blocks cubed. a typical ‘minecraft block’ is just a full block, like planks, logs, or stone. i’m not going to calculate this accurately (i.e. counting the space that the glass panes leave behind), mostly because i cannot be assed.

SMAJOR’S BASE.

the volume of smajor’s house, in theory, is relatively easy to find. because his house is just a right pentagonal prism, we can use the formula B*h to find the volume. B is the area of the ‘base’ (which, in this case, is the front/back of his house), and h is the depth of his house.

[Image Description: Two screenshots from Scott’s newest video. Both screenshots have lowered transparency, and are slightly dulled.

One screenshot is of the inside of his house, as he looks at the back. The floor is still grass, though the walls are up. There are dozens of arrows within the floor and towards the back of the wall. On top of the screenshot, someone has noted that there are 13 Minecraft blocks across the back of Scott’s house.

The second screenshot is from the outside of Scott’s house, as he looks up at it. The house appears to be finished. On top of the screenshot, someone has noted that there are 10 Minecraft blocks from the floor up to the start of the room. There is a red marking where the roof hits the wall.]

there are two parts that add up to B: the rectangular bit, and the roof. in these two screenshots, i’m finding the area of the rectangular bit.

the rectangular bit is 13 blocks across and 10 blocks wide.

[Image Description: A screenshot from Scott’s newest video, with lowered transparency and slightly dulled. It’s from Scott’s timelapse, taken up in the air. Scott isn’t finished building his house. One side of the roof is done, as well as all of the walls below and the two faces. 

There are various notations on the screenshot. A blue marking on the bottom counts 10 Minecraft blocks up. A block above that, a red marking notes that the roof, at its widest point, is 15 Minecraft blocks wide. Another red marking notes the slope of the room. An arrow points towards the top of the roof, saying “later adds on 3 blocks here”

To the right, there is a header saying “TO-SCALE MODEL:” Below, there is a pixel model of the front and back of Scott’s house, which are the same. There is a blue rectangular section on the bottom. On top, there is a red roof. There are 3 purple pixels on the top. Markings on the model show the measurements. A dotted line goes through the model, splitting it up into two sections: a rectangle on the bottom, and the roof on top.

Inside the rectangular section, someone has noted down “11 * 13 = 143 mb^2″ the “143 mb^2″ boxed in. Inside the roof section, someone has noted down “111 mb^2″

Below the screenshot, someone has handwritten “143 + 111 = 254 mb^2″]

the second part is the roof. the roof goes outwards for two blocks, and then goes back inwards. using this reference for the roof, the previous two screenshots for the bit underneath, and cross referencing them to find out where they meet, i created a to-scale model of it!

i found the area of the to-scale model, and B = 254 mb^2

[Image Description: A screenshot from Scott’s video, with lowered transparency and slightly dulled. The house isn’t finished--there’s only half of the side wall and the front detailing. The screenshot is taken from Scott’s timelapse, and is from the side of his base; only the side wall is visible.

Someone has marked over the screenshot with a lime green pen. On the top right, someone has written “* coutning the inner wall only”. An arrow is drawn upwards from one side of the side wall. It says “wall starts here”. On the other side of the wall, there is another arrow that says “wall ends here”. In between the two arrows, someone has made tick marks indicating where the blocks are. On the bottom, someone has noted down “3-wide doorway” by the side entrance. Off to the bottom ride, it says “24 px deep”]

next, i used this screenshot to find the h of scott’s base! this was a bit harder because scott doesn’t show the bottom of his base until he’s already detailed it, but with the precise use of my Big Brain (and my wacom tablet), i counted that it was 24 pixels deep.

so, B * h = V = 254 * 24 = 6096 mc^3

but we AREN’T DONE YET

[Image Description: On the left, there are 3 screenshots from Scott’s newest video stacked vertically on top of each other. The first one is of the side doorway. Pink ticks mark the how many blocks wide and tall the doorway is. On the right of the first screenshot, there is a solid pixellated model of the doorway in the same pink. Inside the model, someone has written “18 mb^3″ in white. On the right of the model, someone has written “volume of the side door-way” in pink.

The next screenshot is taken from the inside of Scott’s base, showing the front doorway. Orange ticks mark how many blocks tall and wide the bottom section of the front doorway is. It is 8 blocks wide and 3 blocks tall. The bottom most screenshot is a picture from Scott’s timelapse, where half of the roof hasn’t been built yet. Someone has drawn lines on the building going horizontally, dividing the top section of the front doorway into three sections: one 3 block section on the bottom, and two 2 block sections on top. On the right of these two screenshots, there is a solid pixellated model of the front doorway, labelled accordingly, in orange. Inside the model, someone has written “39 mb^3″

Below the screenshots and the models, someone has written “6096 - 39 - 18 = Vi = 6039 mb^3]

see, scot also has two main doorways: one at the entrance and one on the right side. i used the first screenshot to find the volume of the side doorway, and the next two screenshots to find the volume of the front doorway.

(this is the part where i might be wrong--i couldn’t find a reliable reference for the the front doorway, so i had to use an extremely zoomed out version. the stripped spruce log section underneath the window is either 2 or 3 blocks tall. i assumed 3 based on the bottom most screenshot but like. i could be wrong)

anyway, the first doorway is 18 mb^3, and the second is 39 mc^3. so, the total final volume for scott’s base is 6039 mb^3.

JOEL’S BASE.

joel’s base, on the other hand, is genuinely fucking insane. like, seriously. what the fuck, joel. you couldn’t have made it harder for me to do my job (it does look amazing though and i love it so much)

so, instead of taking screenshots and calculating the volume of his base through those references, i decided to build a replica of joel’s base in my own creative world, and after fill it with sand. i could then count all the sand from his base and add it up to achieve a (somewhat accurate) volume for his base

[Image Description: An array of screenshots of a replica of Joel’s base, laid out in a three by two grid. Each is labelled with a black, comic-style font. The first screenshot is taken from the front of the replica from up in the air, and is labelled “FRONT.” The second screenshot, which is to the right of the first screenshot, is taken from the right of the replica from up in the air, and is labelled “RIGHT SIDE.” The third screenshot is taken from the back of the replica from jup in the air, and is labelled “BACK.” The fourth screenshot is taken from the left of the replica up in the air, and is labelled “LEFT SIDE.” The fifth screenshot is taken from the front of the base, and the player is on the ground. It is labelled “FRONT (FROM THE GROUND).” The last screenshot is taken from the inside of the base, looking towards the back. It is labelled “INTERIOR (FROM THE GROUND).”]

anyway, most of his base is relatively easy to copy. my replica is pictured above. there are two time lapses within his video that show his process of building his base. the first timelapse (4:59-5:54) is shot from the front of his base, and angled slightly downwards, and is where i got most of my references from. the second timelapse (9:48-9:55) is shot from the diagonally back left of his base, and is what i referenced for the back of my replica.

the roofs themselves are symmetrical: barring the roofs’ intersection, the blue and red roofs are the same the entire way around. this is why, even though i technically didn’t see the back of joel’s base, i knew what it looked like and could get an accurate replica of it.

the only problem is that he never showcases the base from the left. this means that the red and blue roof intersection on the left could be very wrong. the only reference i got for this part was a screenshot at 6:12 (pictured below). this only showcases the inside of the roof, and from bad lighting, but it’s better than nothing.

other than that, though, i’m. pretty sure my replica is accurate! 

[Image Description: A screenshot taken from Joel’s video, from approximately 6:12 in the video. Joel is inside his base, staring up at the red roof from the bottom. The floor is lit up by torches, but the details of the roof are barely visible in the darkness.]

next, i filled his entire base with sand. this was the most tedious part--never have i ever placed so much goddamn sand in minecraft. do not recommend, 0/10

i made sure that i filled the entire base by going into spectator mode! (i can’t fit the pics in here because, well, image limit. but i promise the entire build is full)

and, after 2 diamond shovels, two stacks of torches, a handful of night vision potions, here is how much sand i have:

[Image Description: Four screenshots, layed out in a two by two grid. The first three screenshots showcase the inside of three different double chests. They are all filled to the brim with stacks of sand. On the first screenshot, there are two notations, both in blue: one that notes out that there are 9 columns in a double chest, and another that notes that there are 6 rows in a double chest. The last screenshot is that of the interior of partially-full double chest, with 21 full stacks within it. Someone has noted down “21 stacks” in red.

Underneath the four screenshots, someone has written “number of stacks * 64 = Vt” in black. Beneath that, someone has written “there is 54 stacks in the full double chests” in blue. Beneath that, someone has written “( (54) (3) + 21) (64) = Vt,” in various colours. “(54)(3)” is in blue, while “21″ is in red. The rest is in black.

On the bottom, someone has written “Vt = 11,712 mb^3″]

the final total for joel’s base, as of july 1st, 2021, is 11,712 mb^3

THE CONCLUSION + TL;DR.

scott smajor’s title was not a lie, or at least not at the time. he had the biggest base on the server as of that upload. but soon after, joel created a base that was nearly two times scott’s, creating the bigger base out of the two of them.

so, yeah! joel has a bigger base than scott as of july 1st, 2021

this is because 11,712 mb^3 > 6039 mb^3

thank u and goodnight. send me any asks if u find anything wrong with this stupidly lost post, or if you want any progress pics! love y’all

[queerswim]

can i get a jealous nagito x reader? :o

Thank you for the request, anon. I got to it as fast as I could, I hope it was worth the wait. Please give me your feedback if you're willing. CONTAINS: MILD ANGST  WORDCOUNT: Exactly 1616, I may have gotten a little, tad lazy near the end. If none of the contains/warnings alarm you, please proceed. My requests are currently open. Check it out if you want to. The rest remains under the cut.                                      ────────────────

Nothing. The word lingered in his clear mind. Nothing was wrong. Nothing had come to bite him in the ass. Nothing had gone bad. All due to his luck, and some luck he had alright. It was a balance between lucky and unlucky circumstances. It was nothing he wasn’t aware of, he had gotten used to it at this point. He knew what usually happens, good luck then leads to bad luck. Bad luck then leads to good luck. A hopeful outcome on some occasions. For all the self-aware reasons, he was paranoid. Questioning the possible scenarios that could occur. Nothing had gone wrong. It was almost as if the day so far had been perfect. That word. That word is such a strong word, it made him cringe. Dreading what may happen, completely on edge. He tried not to think too much about it. He wasn’t trying to dismiss the possibility of it happening, no. No, no, no. It was certain. He was certain, something was going to happen. There was nothing he could do, so why think too much about something he had no control over. It’s a sickening thought. He was vulnerable during such severe positions. To distract himself, Nagito thought of all the good that had happened to him so far. For starters, he woke up in the warmth of his bed that hung over his lanky form, wrapping around him tightly. Holding the comfort once his glassy green eyes opened. His body didn’t feel so tight, and straining to wake up in. His muscles didn’t feel tension. More like he was able to levitate, it was heavenly. His eyes didn’t feel dry. Legs didn’t feel sore. Arms felt free. Tips of his fingers and toes scrunched inwards as he lifted himself from the previous slumber. It was good sleep, the kind of sleep you get from a long day at the beach. That is, if you’ve ever had some good rest from such an event. It feels so nice. So, so nice. Not the usual feeling of grease, it was icky. He didn’t cherish it for too long. For two reasons. One being that he wasn’t worthy of this type of thing. He didn’t deserve to feel like this, to wake up so nicely. He- no. No, that’s not right. A shameful scum should be 6 feet under. Though here he sat, waking up in such a humble manner. How selfish for someone so filthy.  Nagito pushed some of the sheets away from his abdominal area, feeling the new breeze on his bare skin made him shiver. The sheets had been pushed off his legs as well, they were restrained in his dark, almost black, gray denims. He hadn’t fallen asleep with comfortable clothes, no. He had turned in with his usual clothing. Except for the shoes, they were kicked under the bed. Nagito had begun to lift himself from the cozy covers and onto his feet. The hardwood flooring underneath were cold but not cold enough to make him flinch. His toes curled in, head tilted down to the ground. He needed to do something, move around. Maybe today wouldn’t be so terrible. So that’s what lead to where he was now, standing silently on the concrete sidewalks. This is where we left off, this is the previous state Nagito was in. Pondering the multiple possibilities. Everything felt so slow. Not a single trace of bad luck followed. It didn’t sit right with him, mouth slowly starting to feel dry. He didn’t want to think about this too much, he wouldn’t stop if he thought about it too much. He’d become paranoid. So, instead he licked the insides of his mouth to dampen the dryness. Nagito knew where he was headed next, he was going back to his shared home. It wasn’t anything fancy, a rented apartment that you and Nagito lived in. That’s where he wanted to be, home. Nagito wanted to be home without overwhelming waves of stress randomly crashing down on him, he wanted to be in your arms. He wanted to feel the raw warmth of your skin against his as he scatters butterfly kisses all over your body. That also lead to the chance that maybe he shouldn’t go. Jeez, he’s so indecisive. Though, who could blame him, it was for your benefit if he went or not. He wanted to keep you safe, but he also. Agh. It was all rushing in different- chaotic piles of decisions and paranoia. He hadn’t been so pessimistic until he had gotten you into his life. Nagito can’t lose you.

He moved so gradual. He didn’t want to face what bad luck had for him in stock. Maybe you were dead- No. No, he can’t be thinking about that. He tried to pushed that away, why would he even think of that as a chance. Nagito hated the fact he let that slip his mind, he’d tear his mind to shreds if he could. It was doing him no good. His (almost brown) tan shoes trace the ground underneath, appreciating what he had now. The sky was beaming, the grass still held the lively appereance. He started to move faster, he changed his mind. Wanted to get this over with, it couldn’t be too terrible even if it was there. He was going to be okay, and so were you. Turning corners, crossing roads. His luck seemingly had started to kick in, the turn of events. It wasn’t bad at all, almost relieving. The lights that flashed green, proceeding people to walk had immediately morphed once he had gotten there. Showing a red hand with a countdown of 10. This had only begun to start and he wasn’t too far from home. Nagito made contact with your apartment complex. There was a row of apartment places there, about 4 stacked beside each other. He had passed by one. He just needed to get by one more and he’d be home. Nothing seemed to be happening, no sour, bitter edge felt necessary. Everything appeared fine. He wouldn’t let his guard down though, he had to be ready. Prepared for what he may encounter. The pads of his fingers dug into the pockets of his evergreen zip up jacket. The back of his jacket flapped, hitting the back of his legs ever so often from his fast movements. He was stewing, repeatedly questioning the peaceful breeze, there was no way it could be this perfect. Especially with his fucked luck, it was merely impossible. 

With that, he was now at your shared apartment complex. Taking no time in getting up the stairs and to the door, grabbing a hold of the knob and slowly turning. No restrains, his luck again, huh? It had to be. The door began to open, letting the new view be seen through Nagito’s grey-green eyes. What laid in front of him was you. You weren’t alone, you were sitting on one of the lawson type couches, leg crossed. One arm laying carelessly by your side, the other around. Around, who was this guy? Nagito had to squint his eyes, pressing his finger ever so slightly into the knob. It was Hajime. A sore lump begun to rise in Nagito’s throat. He couldn’t explain the immense anger that started to flood through him. But it was there. Shoulders tight, scrunched and pressed against the numbing walls. Nagito was imagining this, this. This wasn’t wasn’t happening, it had to be hovered doubt. It was only exaggerated in his mind because he was certain something terrible was going to happen. It was a fogged observation. He barely caught view of what was happening anyway, he didn’t want to know what was happening behind closed doors. Nothing had happened but brief chit chat. Immense accusations that flooded his mind instantly said otherwise. 

“Ah, mm. There’s someone better, isn’t there?”

He rambled mistaken beliefs through whispers, unable to speak any higher than his hushed murmurs. His breath so caught up in his throat causing him to be incapable of expressing such nauseating thoughts. Nagito’s grasp on his mouth gestured to his neck, head slanting back as he clutched, he clutched hard. The chewed off nails dug into the side of his neck, thumb resting on the other end. He deserved this, that’s what he let himself think, it was justified. You weren’t his, and you never would be. So selfish of him. You slipped so easily from his desperate grip, why would you be his. No, it was all a lie. A myth. It was unfortunate. This hurt like hell, the thoughts you could be getting along with Hajime better than you ever had with him. The neck gripping only being in the distance, it couldn’t compare to his thoughts. His thoughts that were interrupted by new thoughts, his knees stuttered to keep him up. His throat was dry, he swallowed. He wanted to get out of here. Right now, this was the peak he had to face. His despair, this was awful. Why did this have to be it, it could’ve been worse but hell. 

“God, what is my deal? Getting so emotional.. over this? I’m not even certain if what they’re doing is wrong!”

Nagito cried out, his hands making most of the gestures as he released his message in desperation. His teeth chewing on his bottom lip during the slight pauses in between sentences. He had to get away, he was. So useless, so vulnerable. Someone as so close to a deity as you were, doesn’t need to be with someone akin to like, a shoe umbrella? Entirely, fully, absolutely pointless.

You’d get him, you’d find him. Things would get better.

[aressss1]

Through Fire and Ice Chapter 6

(Technoblade x Reader)

Chapter 6

<Prev Chapter | Next Chapter> 

~~~~~~

Phil was the first to wake up of the two in the back of the caravan. He slowly sat up using his good arm to push himself up. His eyes scanned over Techno. Techno’s face was peaceful as he slept. He was surprised that the half piglin had decided to sleep in the presence of the other two. Not that the other two were in the caravan with them but, that really was a testament that Techno was exhausted.

The caravan wasn’t moving anymore, and it was silent outside. Deciding to take a peek, Phil pulled back the fabric of the caravan, letting the harsh wind chill in for a moment, which he came to regret. Techno stirred at that. They were at their village. George and Sapnap nowhere in sight, they had taken the horses as well.

 “Mate, I think they just left us out here.” Phil said to Techno who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

 “Not surprising.” Techno stretched his arms causing his joints to pop. Phil lets out a small hum, as he looked at the height of the snow on the roofs of the houses. There had to be at least two feet of snow, and it still was coming. The large flakes were still falling fast to the earth, with no end in sight. A thought had occurred to him and he let out a groan as he sat back on the wood of the caravan, causing Techno to look over at him curiously. “Uhh, you okay there?”

 “The library,” Phil lamented, this caused Techno’s eyebrow to raise. Phil’s hand covered his face.

 “You… Wanna go to our local library?” Techno questioned, his arms crossing over his chest for heat. “Phil… I gotta be honest here, I don’t have a library card.”

 “No, the books in the stronghold library,” Phil clarified, his hand sliding down his face. “They might hold the key to stopping this.” Phil let out another pained groan. “Why didn’t I think about those books?”

 “What books?” Ranboo popped his head into the caravan, scaring Philza and nearly making him topple over. Phil winced from the action and cradled his broken arm. “Whoa,” Ranboo eyed Phil’s arm. “Sorry Phil…” He apologized bowing his head.  

 “It’s alright mate.” Phil said gritting through the pain. “And to answer your question, I left the library in the stronghold untouched, whatever books are in there might be important. I was going to come back for them.” Phil said after the pain had started to subside.

 “So… Let’s go get them?” Ranboo offered.

 “You want to help me get the books from the library Ranboo?” Phil asked the enderling, the question making Ranboo light up as he nodded.

 “Okay I get the fact that you want to go back to the library, but you need to heal your arm before anythin’.” Techno motioned at Phil’s arm. “It doesn’t make sense to go when you’re already at a disadvantage.”

 “You’re going to have to wait a while Phil.” Ranboo spoke up. “The doctor, has been denying patients left and right.” Techno’s eyes snapped up to Ranboo’s eyes, the action making Ranboo uncomfortable and a small enderman noise could be heard, as he kept his eyes anywhere but Techno. Techno didn’t care.

 “What do you mean?” Techno’s tone was serious. “How long has that been going on?” His brows furrow, as Ranboo hesitates.

 “U-uh…” Ranboo’s voice wavered as he tried processing what he was going to say next. “There isn’t enough supplies to go around. People are dying because of the lack of health potions. We have already exhausted our bone meal for the melons.” Techno felt his eyes widen and he started to go through his chests that he had brought with him.

 “You haven’t seen Dream?” He asked still sifting through his items.

 “Last I saw him…” Ranboo paused. “I-uh… I can’t actually remember?” Ranboo said sheepishly. Techno sighed not finding any melons. He hung his head and stood up from his chests. His eye landing on the ender chest off to the side. ‘If I need to… I will.’ Techno thought to himself. Techno opened the ender chest, and he pulled out the only one of its kind he had ever found. An enchanted golden apple.

 “Mate?” Phil eyed Techno warily.

 “If nothing else will help her, this will Phil.” Techno gripped the shimmering golden apple in his hand.

 “Those are pretty rare.” Phil cocked his head at Techno, a smirk coming to his lips. “You sure you want to just give it up like that?”

 “…” Techno quickly hid the apple from sight, his eyes leveling with Phil. He didn’t even have an excuse. “What do you want me to say, Phil?” He bent and grabbed a red cloak from one of the chests and wrapped it around his shoulders. He liked the blue one better, but the red cloak made him come back to his roots.

 “You don’t have to say anything mate.” He couldn’t hide the amusement from his voice. Ranboo spoke up shifting the topic back to what it was before. Techno couldn’t help but be appreciative of that.

 “So, Phil, when did you want to go to that library?” Ranboo asked, making Phil hum in response.

 “You see how deep that snow is?” Phil pointed to the rooftops he was looking at earlier. “We need to go soon,” Phil looked down at his arm. “I don’t think we have time to wait.”

 “You wrote down the coordinates right Phil?” Ranboo asked. When Phil nodded, “Let’s just mine our way to the stronghold. Just in case we need to make multiple trips.” Phil nodded.

 “That’s smart, Ranboo.” Phil pushed up from his seat with his good arm. “I nominate Techno to mine it out.” He clapped his hand on Techno’s shoulder. Techno couldn’t even argue with that. He wanted to make it up to Phil for the recent events.

 “For you Phil… The world.” Techno stated, he stepped out of the caravan helping Phil out as well.

 “Thanks mate. You should go check on your friend.” Phil put a tiny bit of emphasis on the word ‘friend’. Techno rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about your stuff, Kristin and I will keep it safe for you.”  Phil patted Techno on the shoulder. After saying their goodbyes, Techno was swift on his feet, descending into the mine. He could see Sapnap and George climbing back up the stairs, but he paid them no mind. Hugging the wall, passing them on the stairs, he could hear their whispers, but he couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying.

 “Techno,” Sapnap called as he turned to look at the half piglin. “We are going to put your chests on the ground so you can get them when you can, George and I are going to look for more survivors.” Techno didn’t even spare him a glance, only raised his hand, to show he heard them. Hearing the huff from Sapnap was the last of his worries. He probably would have gotten the same reaction if he had responded differently anyway.

 It had taken a minute, but he finally found himself at the bottom of the staircase, the iron door in front of him almost intimidating. He wasted no time in flicking the lever and stepping through the now open door. His eyes flitted around taking in the scenery before him. People too busy at work to notice him. The cavern though manmade took on the shape like a huge ravine. Off in one corner of the cave, he spied the ray of a beacon shining bright.

 ‘Well, that explains how they dug all this out in such a short amount of time.’ Techno thought. Looking around at the busy scenery. He didn’t exactly know where to go from here. But he was sure he would find someone who could at least remember that they had seen Dream in the last few hours. Heading toward the beam of light he didn’t have to look to hard. There… Sitting on the wooden spruce step of an unfinished building was Dream… He was looking at his bloodied hands.

 Being a hybrid, Techno could just tell… That, that was your blood. Every muscle in his body tensed up.  Dream hadn’t noticed him yet.

 ‘She’s gone.’ The voices wailed in his mind, also demanding for Dreams blood. While he was struggling, to keep a more optimistic view, his heart sank. This didn’t mean she was gone but try telling the voices in his mind that. He stepped up in front of Dream, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t wearing his mask, which was surprising even for Techno. He started wearing that mask ever since Techno scarred up that pretty boy face of his.

 “Where is she Dream?” Techno’s monotone voice cut through the air, causing Dream’s eyes to flit up to Techno. Techno watched in amusement, as Dream’s face contorted into a look of animosity.

 “Resting,” He stands eyes leveling with Techno. Techno breathes an inward sigh of relief. “I’m surprised to see you here, Techno.” Dream takes slow steps pacing on the step, his eyes never leaving Techno. “I thought you were just going to leave as soon as you got Phil here.”

 “Well, you see Dream,” Techno started as he cocked his head to the side. “I have my business here; I can’t just leave. At least not yet. I also couldn’t wait to see how my handiwork on your face healed.” Techno’s eyes ran over Dreams scars striping his cheek and forehead, and finally to the one on the back of Dreams neck. That struck a nerve in Dream. Taking a few seconds Dream smiled, almost evilly.

 “Hmmm, what do you think she will feel when she sees what you truly are.” Dream’s sweet voice hit him deep, though Techno refused to show it. “I guess a human and piglin aren’t totally unheard of, seeing that you had to come from somewhere. But what do you think she will feel, when the ‘Blood God’ turns into the bloodthirsty beast?” Rage boiled in his veins; the voices begged for Techno to shut him up. “Guess what Blood God.” Dream’s face contorted into a sneer, “When you have scared the living shit out of her, I will come to be there for her. Because I know, you will slip up.” Dream was still pacing his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

 Techno was fuming, his hands clenching under his cloak, not that Dream could see them. He was about to say something when a delicate hand landed on his shoulder interrupting the situation. Techno’s eyes scanned over to Nihachu, who had no idea what had been going on.

 “Techno!” Niki looked genuinely happy to see him there, “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

 “Same for you Niki.” Techno gave her a smile, his eyes landing back on Dream. “Dream was just about to take me to see someone.” Even though he was monotone, it held a warning that Dream could hear, loud and clear.

 “Oh yes!” Niki clapped her hands together, “How has she been doing Dream?” Dream turned to Niki plastering a smile on his face.

 “I patched her up,” Dream said, taking on a friendlier tone than before. “She’s doing a lot better now. Though, she’s still horribly sick,” Niki nodded, looking down in thought.

 “Let’s get some food, I’m sure at this point we all need it.” Niki waved them inside the building behind Dream. Techno didn’t hesitate to look around for you. The enchanted golden apple weighing heavy in his pocket. “If she’s resting, she would be in the back room Techno.” Niki chuckled, taking note of his eagerness to see you. “Dream, will you help me set up my kitchen?” Niki turned her attention to Dream.

 “Of course!” Dream followed Niki to a smoker in the corner of the room. Dreams eyes narrowing at Techno slightly when Niki wasn’t looking. Techno opted out of their conversation, his eyes looking at the entrance of the back room. Noticing the blood that had pooled on the stone in the middle of the room he avoids it. When he makes it to the entrance of the backroom, he had to duck his head from the doorway to enter.

  There you were, sleeping peacefully on a pink bed. He very quietly walks to your side. He hates the worry he has for you… His want to protect you. But if he was being honest with himself, he loved the way you snuggled into him last night, even if it was for warmth. You didn’t look at him like a monster, even after seeing his face, his ears... He vowed that you would never see the other side that liked to come out in his blood thirst.

 He sat on a wooden crate leaning his back against the wall, focusing on your ragged breathing. He could hear the activity from the other room. From Niki telling Dream to wash his hands to heavy furniture being moved. It wasn’t long before the smell of food made it to Techno’s nose. He was just going to have to wait for you to wake up. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, wishing he had one of his books to read. He would wait as long as he needed to for you.

 ~~

 “Hey, wake up.” You felt a hand on your shoulder shaking you awake. Your eyes fluttered open to see Dream. He gave you a soft smile before he held out the item in his hands for you to take. He had a bowl of what looked to be rabbit stew. When your eyes focused on him you thankfully took the bowl of food. Your stomach was pleading for food. You took your first bite of the stew and you fell in love with the taste. It was absolutely perfect.

 A woman, behind Dream catches your attention, she had handed Techno a bowl of his own. When your eyes land on Techno, you felt so happy. His eyes meet your gaze.

 “Thank the gods,” You breathe out. You feel almost all the tensity in your body melt away.

 “Nice to see you too.” You saw the small quirk of his mouth. Breathing out a sigh your eyes land back on the woman, who waved at you.

 “Hi! I’m Niki.” She sat on the bed next to you. “It’s so nice to meet a friend of Techno’s!”

 You shook her hand after you gave her your own name. After a few minutes of small talk and trying not to cough too much, you dug into your meal, with gusto. Everyone else followed suit. You really appreciated the warm liquid soothing your throat.

 “Sorry it’s such a small amount everyone,” Niki apologized. “Rationing out food is something that’s going to happen for a while.” Techno leaned forward toward you with his bowl. You looked at him curiously and before you knew it, he was dumping half of his bowl into yours.

 “What are you doing?” You asked, looking at him incredulously.

 “You need to eat more so you gain your strength and get over this sickness.” He stated plainly, going back to eating what was in his own bowl. “Don’t argue with me on this. You’ll just tire yourself out.” Before you could say anything else. Dream spoke up.

 “He’s right.” Dream pushed some of your hair out from your face. You felt a blush rise up your neck and spread on your cheeks when you looked into his eyes. “We just want the best for you.” Your eyes flicked back to Techno, who seemed to be staring down at the stone floor with an unreadable look in his eyes. Not liking having all the attention on you, you simply nodded.

 “…Alright.” You gave in. The next few minutes were spent talking with the people around you. It felt… Nice. The last time you had relied on someone was awful, and you hoped it wouldn’t turn into that type of situation again. You couldn’t take it. The whole time you, Dream, and Niki chatted Techno was silent, he would give his input here and there, but… You wanted to talk to him. Alone. You wanted to thank him for everything. You supposed there was time to do it at a later day, you promised yourself you would.

 There would be time where you could do that… Right?

[askbloatedbellyblog]

Suneater’s Pants Problem

(Once again I try to write a short drabble and then it is definitely not)

The patrol day at Tamaki’s internship started so well. As he changed clothes from his civilian outfit to his hero uniform, he was pleased at the progress that he had been making with Mirio in the weight room and training. He was always proud of it and took it as a symbol of Mirio’s hard work and being able to be stronger to protect his now powerless friend. His stomach growled loudly in protest from lack of being fed after their hard workout after Tamaki had to leave the gym directly to go to his internship with Fatgum.

He pulled on his black spandex compression shirt over his defined muscles, his athletic and toned muscles, though not as big as others more muscle bound than he (Mirio came to mind), bulged out from the stretched fabric. It brushed over his abs even as his empty stomach behind them groaned in need, the cobbled muscle still concave down to his narrow waist. “Can’t you be quiet for once?” He asked his own body as he rubbed his hand over his abs to try to signal that now was not the time. Kirishima walked into the locker room just as Tamaki was done putting on his shirt and about to put on his hood and vest. “Looking good there Suneater! So manly!” the redhead added, not so subtly checking him out. However, Tamaki’s stomach didn’t want to be left out and let out a mighty roar of hunger like a monster was clawing its way out. Both looked down at Tamaki’s flat stomach. Tamaki lowered his hood in embarrassment. “...Sorry... I didn’t get to eat.” This ended up being Tamaki’s famous last words.

Several hours later, after their shift was done, Tamaki groggily pulled himself into the locker room with a hiccup. It had been a slow day on patrol with Fat Gum and Kirishima had taken the opportunity to spill the beans that Tamaki was hungry. Not only that but Tamaki’s stomach agreed with the statement and let out a growl loud enough to even make Fat Gum worry. “Don’t worry there Suneater! We got you covered! You’re a growing boy, we’ll make sure you get plenty to eat!” Fat Gum said, slapping Tamaki on the back hard enough that he almost went flying. Kirishima was all smiles though there seemed to be a glint in his eyes that the anxiety ridden Tamaki worried meant something else, and he was right.

The pair had apparently made it their mission to feed Tamaki plate after plate of food at the local restaurants on patrol. Tamaki was pretty sure he had lost count as he just tried to keep up with everything that was shoved into his face. He knew there was more to it when he was full and trying to tell Fat Gum he had had enough, but Kirishima kept pushing for Tamaki to eat more. “You should have heard how loud his stomach was! It’s so manly, we got to make sure he eats just as manly an amount!” as he got Fat Gum to pay for another order.

But now the damage was done. Tamaki had had to undo his vest and utility belt to make room for his aching stomach, and was grateful for said vest and his hoodie to hide some of the damage the food had done to him while he was shoving food into his mouth. He just wanted to be done and home and rest off his protesting food baby that stretched the skin on his middle. His stomach was just as noisy as before but instead of growls of hunger, it was giving off sounds of protest. His stomach glorped and gurgled, with shifting food inside as it made its way down his digestive tract painfully obvious as he moved. He sat down with a huff and bent over to try to undo do his clothes in front of his locker. As he bent forward with a grunt, he burped unintentionally as he took off his robe then his tight fitting spandex pants that hugged his butt and legs and looped around the arch of his foot. His protesting and burbling stomach in his lap pressed down on his legs, making it painfully obvious just how round and bloated he really was.

Tamaki rubbed his belly to try to take the edge off or coddle it to let it know he was painfully aware of it’s protests. It wasn’t exactly his fault he ate so much. I mean it partly was because deep down he liked being full, bloated, heavy, and round; letting his inward gluttony come out. But he didn’t want it today! They just kept shoving food at him, especially Kirishima! Well at least that’s what he tried to say softly to his stomach as he worked up the courage to continue to change his clothes. Taking a deep but painful breath, thanks to his overly engorged middle, he took off his spandex shirt that had put in a good fight over his indulgence but had moved past being able to contain his bloated out abs completely and had ridden up to his stretched belly button. It was near hard as a rock before thanks to his training and now his middle was near hard as a rock from his eating. He grunted loudly as he pulled the shirt off over his chest and head and then pulled his arms out of the tight material.

Steeling himself once more, he grabbed his boxers and put them on, grunting again as he had to work around his bulging belly in his middle to slip his feet into the hole and then stand up. He was forced to have them low, under the swell of his belly. “One down…” he said with a huff, his dark bangs moving a bit out of his face from the puff of frustrated air. He tried to bent at his knees a bit to then grab his jeans and tried to balance as best he could to put on the jeans while standing since he was not eager to let his belly get in his way once again. He tried to use the side of the locker as a brace for balance and pull up the jeans and fit his feet through the holes. He let out a sigh that this procedure was substantially easier than putting his boxers on despite his lack of firm balance. He grunted again as he bent down to grab the waistline of the jeans to pull it up to his waist. The jeans always showed off his legs and butt, and had only gotten better at doing so thanks to Mirio’s constant training. He could feel them sliding over his muscular bubble butt. He felt relief like this eating adventure was almost over and he could go home and rest.

That is until he went to try to zip up the fly of his pants. His belly had grown enough aside from the first inch and half of his fly near his crotch and snatched waist that the two sides of the fabric refused to meet or be forced together, let alone their marriage at the button at the waistline. The blood drained from his face. Somehow despite having eaten himself to such a state before, it hadn’t occurred to him it would happen and he had tried so hard to prevent this from happening on his internship days. “Oh no, no, no, no…” he started to whimper to himself as he tried once again to zip up the remainder of his fly. He sucked his stomach in, much to it’s annoyance as he burped loudly at the pressure though it was directed at his muscular chest as he was quite focused on looking down even though he couldn’t see the results over his bloated belly. His stomach sloshed around hard as he sucked in again and then let it out. He sucked it in one more time getting up another inch or so of progress on the zipper but any progress he made was immediately lost and his zipper even conceded territory once he let out his inhaled breath and it almost looked like his stomach was even bigger than before.

He then made an ill-advised attempt to try to force his pants higher on his body by jumping up and down, his gut protesting at every shake. The firm and heavy organ seemed delayed as it moved up and down just a bit slower than the rest of Tamaki, making it slosh around like an overfilled barrel. He jumped and tried to pull the two sides of the zipper together at the same time as it only served to make the jeans ride up higher and hug his muscular ass even more. But as soon as he let go, the zipper would spread open like the parting of the Red Sea with his stretched pale flesh filling the gap almost immediately.

Tamaki gave up and sat down on the bench in a huff, dejected that he’d be forced to go home with his pants so exposed. Shirtless and with his belly in his lap he brought his head to his hands as he tried to think of something to do or at least get up the courage to finish dressing to then go out and face the world with his globe of a gut.

However, he never got prepared for that moment, for it was at that point that Kirishima opened the door to the locker room and found the bellied hero sitting there in anxiety ridden despair. “Dude! Look at that monster belly mound! You really do look like you ate the sun! That’s manly as hell,” he said, going up and rubbing Tamaki’s bloated and rounded abs with his hand and poked it to test that it was real. Tamaki let out a soft belch though was almost too dejected to worry about the intrusion of his personal space. “I...ate too much. Why did you keep having me eat?”

“Because you were hungry and you’re eating is crazy awesome and honestly kind of hot. Tell you what, we can get you some dessert on the way home, and I’ll help provide some cover for your belly by walking in front. Besides with your shirt on, I doubt anyone would even notice!” Kirishima said still more focused on Tamaki’s bloated belly than anything else.

“You’d do that for me?” Tamaki asked hopefully. “Sure!” Kirishima said, tossing Tamaki his shirt. “Though I got to say, you’re also looking pumped as hell. Those workouts are really paying off for you.” He commented while Tamaki put on his shirt and sweater and tried to cover most of his belly. It covered his opened pants but it was still very obvious that Tamaki was bloated as hell. Kirishima patted Tamaki hard on the back in a show of friendship but all that did was make Tamaki let out a belch that rattled them metal of all the lockers in the locker room. “Excuse me…” Tamaki croaked out as he wiped away some of the spittle that had come shooting out of his mouth thanks to the extra powerful belch.

“No worries dude! Now let’s think about what to get you for some dessert. By the way, just how much do you think you can fit in that thing? Something extra big?” Kirishima asked, trailing off as they left the agency locker rooms for their dorms, but still no doubt making some additional eating pit stops for them both along the way.

[roanniom]

hi pal can I request the reader showing sackler how to take things a little more slow and sensual in the bedroom (possibly ft some sub!sackler bc yum) dialogue line: 'easy tiger'

Hey buddy, yes – let’s teach our cutie sub!Sackler a lesson. (p.s., sorry to you and everyone else who requested stuff - I’m getting around to all of these, I swear lol)

Sweet

Adam Sackler x Reader

Word Count: 4,291

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, PIV sex, light light light dom/sub, mentions of food, shitty day angst

You love riding Sackler. It’s a fact and you aren’t shy about it. The way he feels beneath you – hard and wound out so tight, just a second from breaking – makes you feel like a goddess. You love messing with him and bossing him around, too. The way his eyes widen and his lip quivers as he thinks up a taunting reply or considers the reward that might come if he is good and acquiesces instead. You love rewarding and punishing him equally.

Sackler takes punishment better than any man you’d ever been with. While most men play along for a while, it’s been your experience that many tire eventually. Not Sackler. Sure, he’s a brat about it, but that’s exactly what you love. How receptive he is. No matter what you do, your Sackler reacts and it makes your heart and pussy clench in equal measure.

But every once in a while, riding Sackler isn’t what you’re in the mood for. Today is one of those days. It’s been a long one, full of meetings and paperwork and all the things that make your teeth set on edge by the time you climb up from the subway, up from the street, and up to your fifth floor walkup. When you reach the knob to open the door, it turns in your hand and moves inward without any effort on your part. The door pulls back to reveal Adam, standing with a huge grin on his face and a steaming mug which is promptly pushed into your free hand.

“Fucking finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get home.” A kiss is pressed hurriedly to your lips and your bags are pulled off of your shoulders. The whirlwind of motion and activity almost make you dizzy and you laugh. Despite your shit day and despite yourself.

“What’s all this?” you ask, gesturing the scene that his wall of a body, now moved aside to stow your bags, has revealed. The table is set for two, with flowers and a fucking lit candle in the center. Two stemmed glasses sit beside a sweating bottle of sparkling grape juice. Adam steps back into view, his grin even wider.

“Ray and I were fucking around at the café and I came across this recipe in a magazine -” he begins, but you cut him off.

“I can’t picture you flipping through a magazine.” He flips you off and continues.

“Well anyway, Ray said it was too delicate and I’d never be able to make it because I’m a fucking ox in a china shop and I was like the saying is ‘bull in a china shop you dickweed’ and then we wrestled a bit and scared his customers away which was pretty fucking hilarious -”

You grab Sackler’s chin to stop his manic rambling.

“The food, Sackler.”

“Well I was getting to that! So I said fuck you, ripped the recipe out, went to the store, and now nine hours and three cut fingers later we have this fucking feast!”

Sackler claps his hands together before gesturing grandly to the table. With the gesticulation you’re able to see the three aforementioned fingers swathed in shoddily placed bandages. You grab his non-damaged hand and lift up on your tiptoes. He gets the message, bending down to press his lips to yours again. He closes his eyes to savor the kiss, but as you back away yours dart over his figure and you let out another laugh.

“Sackler, is that my apron?”

~*~

It turns out bulls in china shops can, indeed, cook delicate dishes. The food is really good. Annoyingly good. Proving again, for the umpteenth time, that your tornado of a boyfriend can be good at things when he focuses all of his boundless energy on one thing.

“You shouldn’t have done this, you know.” You smile at him over the rim of your glass of sparkling juice, the remains of your meal littering the table before you. Sackler watches you, full and self-satisfied, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m never going to accept a shitty takeout meal again now that you’ve fed me this well.”

Sackler sits up straighter and leans over, reaching his hand between your thighs. Your legs open instinctively, without any effort from your brain, but as you lurch forward and metal scrapes against wood, you realize he’s grabbed your chair and is pulling you closer to him.

“It was really that good, wasn’t it.” His smile is ear to ear. You laugh at his smugness.

“Do I need to lick my plate to convince you? Because I will.” You drag a finger through the last bit of sauce on your plate and move to bring it to your mouth. Before you can, however, Adam grabs your wrist and reroutes it to his mouth. His lips close over your finger, tongue lapping up the sauce before it can drip down into your palm. He maintains direct, blazing eye contact the entire time and your stomach swoops. After a moment a sucking, Adam releases your finger with a pop, biting the tip playfully before dropping your hand back to your lap.

“Fuck I’m talented.”

The chuckle you release is a tad too breathless for your liking. It really has been a hard day, and Adam’s attention is getting to you quicker and more than usual. He can see it in your eyes and in the incremental quickening of the rise and fall of your chest.

“Yep. You’re fucking talented,” is all you’re able to muster, biting your lip.

The large hand that had pulled you closer to him has spent this whole time gripping your chair in the space between your legs. Now it slides to smooth over your thigh. His hand is hot enough you can feel the heat radiating beneath your pants. Despite the warmth you shiver.

Adam notices and pulls back his hand so that only his index finger remains in contact with your leg. His index finger which he drags up your inner thigh only to run it up and down the line of the pants seam at the apex of your thighs.

“A little needy tonight, are we babe?”

This is exactly what you need to loosen up so you grab his wrist. He stiffens immediately, assuming he’s done something wrong. But instead you pull him closer to close his whole hand around your clothed cunt, pushing up and down on his hand to provide a wider surface area of warmth and friction.

“A lot needy tonight…babe,” you correct him.

~*~

When you migrate to the bedroom, Sackler is on you like an animal. This is his usual modus operandi – he does everything he possibly can to trigger your reprimands, your slaps, your warnings. It’s partly to see what he can get away with before you tighten the leash (metaphorical but sometimes literal) and partly because seeing you riled up turns him on so much.

Right now he’s got you bent over the bed, cheek smashed to the mattress, legs spread, ass out, as he grips and pinches and squeezes the curves of your body.

“I’ve been thinking of you all fuuuhhking day, baby.” His voice is gruff to go along with the handfuls he grabs of your ass.

“I thought you were thinking about food all day,” you manage to tease, despite the fact that his hands feel like heaven.

“Yeah but like when I went shopping for example.” He flips you over then and you squeal in surprise. Your back hits the bed but your legs remain dangling off. Adam steps between them and drops the weight of his whole upper body on you, effectively smothering you. “I just kept wishing you were there with me.”

Your stomach flips and your heart flutters, not expecting that sweet a statement. You also register your cunt getting wetter.

Oh.

So that’s the mood you’re in.

“You wished I was there?” you ask quietly.

“Of course,” Adam replies, tucking some of your hair gently behind your ear. “I imagined fucking you up against the inside of the freezer section so we could leave obscene handprints on the doors and freak people out.”

You whack him in the head in response, which is exactly what he’s going for. He picks you up and throws you unceremoniously more fully on the bed before climbing on as well and crawling up the length of your body.

“You’re an asshole, Adam.”

“I thought that was your favorite part about me.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. Out of spite – and lust – you reach between you and grab his dick through his jeans.

“No, this is my favorite part about you.”

Adam throws his body to the side, locking his arms around you in a roll that roughly brings you to rest on his chest while his back hits the bed.

“Now you’re talking, baby.” His mouth latches hungrily to your neck and his hands take forceful hold of your breasts. Beneath you Sackler begins rolling his hips, thrusting his hardening cock up into your pelvic area.

The aggression and the friction feel good, you can’t lie. But you can’t ignore the nagging feeling of disappointment lingering right at the corner of your mind.

“Adam,” you prompt. He doesn’t pause in his ministrations. He’s still playing the game. At this point you’re usually just getting started and, being the brat he is, he never actually listens to you this early. It would ruin his fun. No, instead Adam continues to nibble at your collar bone and untuck your shirt.

“Adam – slow down, please.”

The please comes out muffled because it occurs right as he tries to pull your shirt over your head, effectively covering your face.

“Are you trying to say something?” Adam asks with a chuckle, purposefully keeping the shirt tangled up in your arms and swathed over your head. “I can’t hear you.”

You wrestle your way out of his grip and the shirt straight jacket he’d fashioned, irritated but unable to suppress your own laugh.

“That’s not funny, asshole.”

“Again with the asshole.” Adam rises up to a sitting position with you still straddling him, moving to place soft kisses on your now-exposed chest. “Might I point out that you are laughing. I would argue that means it is funny.”

Adam deftly unhooks your bra and continues to drop open mouth kisses on a path that leads him up your throat. His softer actions cause you to roll your hips lightly, your eyes closing with the mounting satisfaction.

“Mmm haven’t I already taught you that you shouldn’t argue with me? You’ll never win,” you reply quietly, tone of voice matching the softness and heat that’s building between your bodies.

In quite a juxtaposition, Sackler growls and bucks roughly up into you, a motion you’re not prepared for and one which throws you off balance.

“We’ll see who wins, baby.” His mouth descends on you and it’s like he’s trying to suck your very soul between his lips. Like he wants to swallow you whole and usually? Usually this kind of thing would rev your engine and make you want to fight for control. But today your body is craving something different.

And you’re not about to deny it what it wants.

You press your palms down on Sackler’s chest, pushing down and pulling back with enough pressure that he finally releases your lips. His chest heaves up and down and he moves to kiss you elsewhere but you grab his jaw.

“Easy tiger. Easy.” Your fingers curl down and around his throat delicately. You’re not squeezing and you’re not gripping, but his eyes are wide and fixed on you. You hold him down with your gaze as much as your hand and, without breaking eye contact, you lower yourself slowly, slowly, slowly, to press a kiss to his flushed lips.

“We’re going to take things slower tonight.”

“Slower? But why!” Sackler moves to sit up again, but you push him back down, this time more firmly.

“Because I say so,” you answer bluntly. Sackler goes to talk back, defiance dancing in his eyes, but you speak up before he can interject.

“Because I need this.”

Your assertive tone comes out less firm and more genuine this time, allowing some of your vulnerability leak through despite your intentions. You watch Adam react, however, and you’re pleased to see his eyes soften.

“What do you want me to do, baby? Tell me.”

You mull this over from your perch above him, straddling his hips and looking down at his still clothed body. Swinging your leg up and over, you dismount him, much to Adam’s displeasure, as expressed with a groan. You, however, stand resolutely at the side of the bed and fold your arms.

“I’d like you to get up and take every piece of clothing off – slowly.”

“You mean like a strip tease?” he asks with a crooked grin, lumbering off the bed. You hop back on and settle down so that your back is now reclining against the pillows comfortably.

“You don’t have to make it sound so crass but sure. Like a strip tease.”

Adam takes a cheesy bow before pulling his shirt of by the back collar.

“Woah woah woah, I said slowly, mister.”

Adam huffs in agitation but does as you ask, dropping the collar and lifting the front hem of his shirt inch by inch, slowly exposing the abdominal muscles which, let’s face it, make you want to drool. You eye him like a piece of meat and without a trace of shame as he finally discards the garment.

“I hope you’re enjoying this,” he grumbles, but you see the amusement in his eyes.

“Oh I am, baby. Trust me.”

The show continues until his boxers ultimately join the pile that has accumulated at his feet. The slow clap you give him as you eye his stiff cock makes him let out a strained laugh.

“Now you,” he says through gritted teeth. You can tell he wants to stroke his cock, but you haven’t told him he can yet. And since you’ve changed the game on him, he feels less comfortable bending the rules.

“Can you come over and take my clothes off for me?” you ask through hooded eyes. He clambers onto the bed and you touch his shoulder as a reminder. “Slowly.”

Adam nods and reaches to unbutton your pants before pulling them slowly down your legs, hooking his fingers beneath your panties to bring them along, too. Having already been divested of your shirt and bra, the job is short and sweet.

You crook your finger in a come hither motion toward him, ushering him to move up to you, which he does. You settle deeper down into the pillows and he hovers above you, uncertain.

“What now?”

You pull him down by the back of the neck into a kiss. Your tongue encourages his to move, which it does. He takes his cues from you and the kiss morphs from sweet to sensual. When a strangled groan bubbles in the back of his throat you push him to sit up in order to bring things back down to the pace you’d worked so hard to establish.

“Now, I’d like you to drag two fingers through my cunt. Get them nice and wet.”

Adam inhales sharply and moves his arm quickly at first before catching himself and bringing his hand calmly between your legs. You let them fall open and sigh happily at the feeling of his fingers running up and down your dripping slit.

“You’re so wet and we’ve barely done anything,” Adam comments, awed.

“That’s how bad I want you like this.”

“Baby…” Adam practically whines. You can see his muscles tensing as his patience wears thinner.

“I know, honey,” you purr. “Now I want you to take your hand and stroke your big, fat cock for me.”

Adam inhales sharply again, but he doesn’t forget this time. This time his hand drags slowly from your cunt, trailing your slick over your thigh and up onto his in a path to his own cock, which he smears with the remaining juice.

“Oh fuck, I can’t take it slow for much longer.”

“Yes. You can.” You tease your own nipple now as you watch Adam’s hand close around the glistening, throbbing head. His muscles ripple beneath the skin of his abdomen and your cunt clenches.

“I saw that.”

Your wrench your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes.

“Saw what?”

“Saw your little pussy squeeze around nothing.”

“Yes, it did.” You’re not about to deny it. Instead, you move the hand not playing with your nipple so that it comes to rest on your mound, fingers dipping down to feel your own wetness.

“Holy shit.”

His cock twitches in his hand and he comes to lean lower over you, bracing himself with one hand against the mattress next to your body as he picks up the pace on his cock. The shuck shuck shuck sound of his fist passing over his length makes your breath quicken and you push two fingers inside you, placing your thumb on your clit and beginning a rhythm of tight circles.

“Oh god, do you hear that?” Adam moans as your cunt begins making squelching sounds with your efforts. “That’s your little pussy telling me it needs me.”

“Mmm it talks to you?” you ask, trying not to think of how ridiculous this is and lose your concentration too much.

“Yes. It’s saying your fingers are two fucking small. It needs to be stuffed. With my fingers, with my cock -”

“Adam.” You interrupt him abruptly by grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him to look you in the eyes. He zips up and waits for you to say something but you don’t. Instead you maintain the eye contact and continue move your fingers in and out of your cunt. Though you won’t agree with him right now, Adam’s right. Your fingers are too small. But the in and out motion, combined with the pressure you are putting on your clit, combined with the way the bed shakes with the effort Adam is taking to jerk himself slowly but strongly, combined with the way he is now devouring you with his eyes – it all still feels pretty fucking good.

Adam’s breath becomes more ragged and the sound makes you let out an involuntary moan. Fuck you love hearing him react. You decide you might as well let him know. It’s already the tone of the evening.

“I love hearing you.”

“I was just about to say the fucking same about you. You’re the one who just moaned, though,” Adam says, letting out a breathless chuckle.

“Yeah but I like it all. I like when your breathing is all ragged like right now. I love it when you groan and growl. When you moan and it sounds like it’s coming from deep inside of you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, and you laugh.

“I like it when you curse, too. I love that filth spills from your brain and you don’t bother – oh! You don’t bother stopping it from falling out of your mouth.”

“You’re the inspiration for the filth, kid, I can’t take all the credit.”

You feel your heart stutter in your chest then and you drag your finger over your clit slower. Harder.

“I like it when you call me kid. You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, kid,” Adam’s face scrunches and you’re not sure if it’s out of guilt or because of the way his hand his now wringing his cock, twisting at the end of each stroke in a sad rendition of the technique you use when you jerk him off. “I didn’t know you liked it so much.”

“I do.”

“I’ll call you that more often.”

“Good.”

You both are breathing heavily now, a light layer of sweat covering skin that aches to be touched by the other. Your eyelids flutter and you try to keep your sight focused on Adam’s face. You’re feeling your inhibitions leave you as the pressure inside your core mounts, loosened up by the warmth of his breath on your cheeks and the way you’re speaking so openly to him. You decide you might as well continue.

“I also like it when you’re sweet to me.”

Adam falters at that, his hand coming to an abrupt stop on his cock. He blinks down at you.

“I am sweet to you.”

His voice sounds hurt and you bristle, wanting to take the words back.

“You are sweet to me. You are, Adam,” you reassure, grasping his arm. He remains still, watching you. You feel weird continuing to finger yourself, but your so close you are afraid to lose your momentum. “You’re always everything I want. And most times I want to be thrown around and I want to yell and stuff. It’s just sometimes…”

You trail off, but you don’t need to continue because Adam is kissing you. A slow, deep kiss. Lips moving against lips, tongue moving against tongue. His hands find your face and hold you softly, keeping you against him, leaving his cock to bob freely against your stomach. Your fingers abandon your cunt as well and you wrap around Adam, arms and legs both, pulling him down into you.

When Adam finally pulls back, his face no longer looks hurt.

“I can be whatever you want. Let me be what you want.” He kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then the curve of your jaw.

“I want you inside of me,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

When he slides in, you don’t have to remind him to go slow. You moan about your walls stretching and he moans about the way you squeeze so tightly around his cock. Your sounds spur each other on and you rock against him, urging him to move.

He pulls out so far that only the tip remains nestled just inside your entrance. When he pushes back in, it feels like he’s pushing in for the first time of the night again. Your walls stretch to accommodate him and you clench instinctively around his length. The process repeats itself, over, and over, until you’re pretty much completely unraveled beneath him.

All the while Adam rains soft kisses on your face, neck, and breasts. Without a chaotic rhythm of thrusts to keep up with, he has the attention span to shower you with even more affection. The hoarse whispers in your ear are by far your favorite:

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You feel so good, you take me so well it doesn’t make fucking sense.”

“Fuck, did you feel that? How tight you’re gripping my cock baby?”

“That’s it, yes make those fucking gorgeous sounds for me.”

It’s not exactly textbook “sweet,” but it’s Adam and it’s what you need. It’s Adam giving you what you need.

You reach down at some point to rub your clit, working yourself up to the edge, but Adam pulls your hand away so his can replace it.

“Not on my fucking watch,” he mutters gruffly. A laugh bubbles in your throat but it bursts into a moan as the dam breaks and you fall apart, crying out his name over and over in the process.

“Yes, baby, yes. Ride it out – fuck you’re hot when you cum.”

You fight to catch your breath and you gaze back up at Adam through the stars in your eyes. The resulting effect makes him both blurry and sparkly in your vision and your muscles continue to contract around his massive cock, which he’s been kind enough to keep stuffed inside you for you to lock onto.

As your muscles begin to relax you blink away the stars and allow a smile of the deepest, most well-fucked satisfaction to slide across your face. Adam watches and his smile matches, though there is still some tightness in his features due to the fact that he is still achingly hard.

“Adam, that was…” you try to catch your breath. “That was…thanks. I needed that.”

When Adam meets your lips for a kiss, however, you yank tightly on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Now I want you to take what you need,” you say louder. “I want you to cum.”

With your permission, Adam doesn’t need more than a second to switch gears. He lifts your legs straight into the air against his shoulders, bending you into a right angle that becomes more and more acute with each passing second. His cock pounds in and out of your dripping pussy, your slick sliding between your thighs and making the fucking smooth and wet and oh so fucking good for him.

“I still like being sweet to you,” he says through gritted teeth, his thrusting becoming more erratic.

“I know you do, baby,” you hiccup out.

“But fuck! Do I love pounding this pussy.”

You laugh and he cums. All over you. He pulls out, dropping your legs down, and it spurts hot over your stomach and tits. It’s messy but he’s satisfied and you’re satisfied and fuck it, that’s what towels are for.

Once he’s gotten you nice and wiped up again, Adam pulls you to him in the bed, wrapping his arms around you tightly and giving you no room to move away. Not that you’d want to move. Why would you when you can lay here in this bed, tangled up in the man that wrung pleasure from your body and laughter from your lips.

~*~

Tagging some lovely people (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in future work!): @mariesackler @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @sacklerscumrag @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction @historyandfandoms50 @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely 

[dracosaurusrex]

Chasing His Sun

Part 4 to Notebook!

Summary: Where Y/N tries to take her mind off of a certain Slytherin, only to have it backfire.

Pairing: Draco x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: Doesn’t a day spent in Hogsmeade sound fun? I got cravings for chocolate while writing this. Honestly tho, I threw up this entire chapter. I certainly hope you enjoy it, pero lyke I’m just going to let my imagination roam free at this point. I would really appreciate your feedback!! <3

Your eyes opened upon the feeling of sunlight hitting your face. Hints of orange and yellow that scattered through a blanketed, cloudy sky indicated to you that it was still early. You took in the peace that emitted through the sounds of birds chirping and felt at ease. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. You looked around your room, feeling groggy, as you recalled the incident that occured the night before. Piercing eyes, a teasing smile--a blush rose to your face as the embarrassment filled you up once again. You had no time to process what happened, because as soon as you met your bed, you knocked out. With the scenario now settling in, all you wanted to do was bury yourself in your grave.

‘The notebook. Oh shoot. Where’s the notebook?’ Your eyes widened when you realized that you had fallen asleep with it in your grasp, out in the open, where Hermione and Ginny could see it easily. With your heart racing and hands moving in a panic, you frantically shot up from your sheets, hoping that you haven’t been caught. You locate the notebook under your pillow and release a huge breath of relief as you hold it near to your chest. Not wanting to suffer another scare, you placed it into your bag.

“Y/N, are you up already?” Hermione asks. She must’ve woken up from the commotion that you just caused. Sleep was still visible from her eyes.

You chuckled nervously, “Yes I am. It’s a beautiful morning and I can’t seem to go back to sleep.” 

“We’re going to Hogsmeade today…” She starts off, “Would you like to join us? We leave at 10.” She lifts herself slightly from her bed to look at you with eyes half opened.

“Yea, I’d love to. I need to pick up a few things also.” You reply. In response, she gives you a tired thumbs up and drops herself back into her pillow.

Since there wasn’t much sleep left inside of you, you decided to get ready. The cold air from your window prompted you to bundle up. As you dress into something comfortable, your mind drifts back to the incident with Draco. Warmth took over after remembering what he had said in response to your little incantations.

‘Why did he say that?’ Yesterday was a whirlwind for your heart. How was it possible to keep your emotions in check when everything that happened gave you sparks of hope and longing? You thought back to potions, to the notebook, and to the encounter. There was no way, right? Would a guy, who held much pride for his house, develop feelings for a random girl in Gryffindor? You weren’t sure. Your heart leaned toward that possibility, but your mind wanted to set itself on the opposing side. All you knew now was that you had to avoid him at all costs. 

You glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was now 8:30AM, and your two roommates were beginning to stir from their sleep. Having been done preparing for about ten minutes now, you decide to gather your things and pick up breakfast, ready to start the day ahead of you.

--------------------------------------------------

You, Hermione, and Ginny stepped foot into Hogsmeade. Despite the grey clouds that covered the skies, you took delight in the small peaks of sunshine, which was joint with the cool breezes that blew through your hair. The cold, although nipping on your nose, evoked a warm feeling in your chest. Autumn was the best season.

The small town was filled with numerous shops. It wasn’t as plentiful as Diagon Alley, but its coziness added to its charm. You followed your friends as they explored Zonko’s Joke Shop and Honeydukes. The prior was too loud for your taste, so you opted to wait outside for the two girls. However, time spent in latter was always good fun. You admired the confections from the window, and excitedly went inside. The sweet aromas that flitted the shop draw a memory from the back of your mind.

In connection to the interactions that you had with Draco the day before, you can’t help but recall the first time you ever had a real conversation with him. How his affections caught you off guard. How it caused your heart rate to speed up numerously within one sitting. How you realized that he wasn’t as bad as others make him out to be. He was actually quite sweet in contrast to his typical personality. There weren’t chocolate chip cookies available in Honeydukes, but the goods made you think of him with much fondness as the coziness that you initially felt in your heart spread even more. 

You examined the sweets that were arranged neatly on their respective racks, picking out several bags of chocolate frogs in contentment. ‘I wonder if Draco likes chocolate frogs.’ you thought. After scanning the shelves for a few more minutes, you came across peppermint toads. ‘Draco, oddly enough, smells like mint. His behavior also reminds me of a toad.’ You laugh at the thought and keep an inward smile stuck to your face. He wasn’t around you, yet the thought of him weighed a huge deal in your heart. Not that you didn’t mind it. 

You added the packs of toads into your little basket. ‘Maybe he’d like some too.’ You thought. 

Happy with your selections, you bounded to the front counter to pay. You weren’t aware of how much time you spent in the store, because you totally lost track of Hermione and Ginny. They were nowhere in sight, and now you were left alone. You stashed your purchases in your bag and waved the shop owner goodbye. Once you stepped outside of the shop you scouted out for your friends. You stared at your surroundings with your eyebrows furrowed, only to have your attention to be stolen by the sound of a very shrill laughter. 

Off in a distance, you see a mop of platinum blonde hair. Draco stood with his hands wrapped around his waist. He sported a sleek outfit, clad in black, which was emphasized by the rings that adorned his fingers. The cold air made the flush of red more apparent on his cheeks. Furthermore, the way his laughter escaped his lips gave life to the butterflies in your stomach. You made it firm to yourself that you were trying to avoid him, and yet the universe decided against that. 

Draco felt your eyes burrow into the back of his head, causing him to turn to your direction. He had stopped laughing at this point when you came into his sight. The way the sun seemed to act as a spot light to you caused his heart to flutter. You weren’t even dressed in clothes that would be considered eye-catching, but to him, you were just that: The apple of his eye. He remembered the way you called his name, how you emphasized every syllable. Your voice seemed to give his name meaning and it made him genuinely happy.

You on the other hand still couldn’t bear the thought of him catching you swooning over his name. It was embarrassing to have been caught in your own feels--a moment that was only meant for you. You broke off the eye contact that was held between the both of you and walked in the other direction. Hoping that he wouldn’t attempt to follow you, you made your way to Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, your ultimate favorite.

Draco’s line of sight followed you. He was driven by the thought of seeing you again. The way the sun hit you, the way you smiled warmly at him, the image of you so focused and wrapped up in your own affairs elicited such a huge surplus of emotions from him. You didn’t have to do much to get his attention. He was extremely enamored by the thought of you.

“Hey you guys. I have to run some errands. I’ll go meet you at Three Broomsticks.” He announced.

“Let me go with you!” Exclaimed an excited Pansy.

Draco sternly gazed at her, “No. I want to be left alone.” Coldness was laced within his words with efforts of pushing her away. It worked as she was seen dejectedly turning to Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. The boy continued to make his way through a crowd of people, his head turning from side to side with hopes to catch you alone once again. He peered carefully into a number of stores, often throwing a second glance just to make sure he didn’t miss you. His heart was beginning to pick up its pace as his concentration solely focused on finding you.

As if the sun was listening to his thoughts, light was casted to your figure in the small stationary shop the same way it had the first time you spoke in the library. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, breath hitched once he saw you. He couldn’t describe the reason why you made him feel the way he did. You looked so unreal. You seemed so unreal. You weren’t even aware of how beautiful you looked at this very moment, and you didn’t even need to make an effort to do so. 

From the very first moment you shared up until now, interactions were limited and minimal, but Draco couldn’t deny the pull no matter how much he tried. The image of you smiling under the sun was something he knew he wanted in his life. If the ambitious traits of Slytherin took form, it would embody this very moment: Not wanting to lose you again, he stepped forth into the shop.

He delicately pushed the door forward. The shop itself was quite inside and smelled of parchment and old books. He didn’t want to catch your attention right away, so he roamed through the aisles quietly, keeping close sight of you. You were excitedly examining quills on display, testing them out with a satisfied expression on your face. You thought it might’ve been weird to others, but you absolutely loved stationary.

Draco witnessed as your eyes glimmered at the sight of shelves filled with journals that resembled his. They were neatly arranged by color, starting from shades of reds and blues on the bottom shelves, and greens and yellows on the top. You ran your fingers across the spines, and stopped once you were met with the green journals. The top shelves were a little bit beyond your reach, requiring you to step on your tiptoes in order to snag one. Proving to have a tough time, you placed your items on the side so that you’d have more access. However, the struggle to obtain a green journal remained. Your body was stretched, your arms were extended to its full length, and your calves were starting to burn. Having enough of a delight in seeing your effort, Draco quietly made his way to you without you noticing. 

Your focus was still extremely concentrated on the object until it was broken by the feeling of a warm breath hitting the back of your neck. Your eyes widened. You saw a black arm extend from behind you, grabbing the green notebook with ease. Startled, you jolt backwards, hitting Draco’s chest with your back. As you turned to see who your mystery helper was, a free hand held your arm, stabilizing you and preventing you from falling over.  Your eyes were met with Draco’s silvery orbs, the distance between your bodies was minimal. His gaze was intense, and it excited you inside. Suddenly, a child came passing through the aisles, causing you to push your back against the shelf and enclosing you between Draco’s arms.

Realizing the position you were in, you couldn’t help but draw your stare away from his eyes. The closeness made it all the more intimate, and a blush threatened to grace your face. Hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour at this point.

You heard Draco curse under his breath, “Idiotic child.”  

You chuckled, still trapped against the wall. The sound of your laughter garnered the attention of the boy as he turned his head to your direction. You didn’t realize how tall he was until this moment. You looked up, sucking your lips in to hide the smile that had already formed.

You grinned at him, “Nice seeing you here, Malfoy.” 

Draco cleared his throat and straightened his posture. After taking a good look at your small figure beneath him, he spoke, “Pleasure’s all mine, darling.” His face was graced with a smirk. You felt heat rise within you as the unfamiliar nickname--that directed towards you--rolled off his tongue.

“Is this the journal you were looking for? It looks awfully similar to mine.” With a huff, you tried reaching out for it, only for it to be raised well above your head. 

“Damn you and your long arms!” He only laughed. You tried to create a mad expression, but you couldn’t hide your smile. Draco’s actions kept taunting you as you jumped desperately to take the notebook out of his grasp. 

“What do you want from me!?” Your blush was already so apparent, and your hair was disheveled.

“‘What do I want?’ You ask?” Draco stopped moving and dropped his arms to his sides. Noticing how some hair strands covered your face, he reached out to you and pulled them behind your ear. Your eyes followed his movements and went back to his face. His expression turned serious as he handed the notebook to you. He began to scan your face before leaning into you. You subconsciously pressed yourself further into the shelf. You could feel his breath tease your ear.

He whispered, “Spend this day with me.” 

You were so flustered at this point, you didn’t even bother to say no. The intention of avoiding him was thrown out the window as your attempts to do so were ultimately deemed futile. The effect this boy had on you was indescribable.

Draco bent down to your level and smirked, “I’ll wait for you outside.”

A/N: I’m really grateful for all the support you all have given me! Seeing you all happy makes me happy also. I hope you have a great day!

PS. Feel free to talk to me! With that being said, should I open up requests?

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice  @vaeonshi

Here’s Part 3!