#at least the class seems to be R-based... i know r

[star-byrd]

anyone have tips on learning the basics of linear algebra in approximately seven days. trying to take a datamining class and i might have dived directly into the ocean.

[distantdarlings]

WORSHIP // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.5K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After Theodore Nott catches you drawing him in the middle of class, he feels he deserves to see your art up close and personal.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Fingering (f!receiving), slight dubcon? (Reader definitely wants it, it’s just not super obvious at first), soft!Dom Theo, sub!reader, Theo’s a bit pushy, fem!reader, slight nipple play, teasing, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

I Feel It Coming - The Weeknd, Daft Punk

- - -

He was a god. Or as close to one as a human could possibly come to looking like one.

You had found yourself worshipping him daily, just not in the most mundane way. Your form of worship required a quill and parchment, in which you traced the curves of his cheeks and the strong bridge of his nose. Only, it wasn’t with your fingers or lips. It was with the quill and parchment.

You’d spent hours surveying him in classes, between them, at lunch… It was one of the only things that got you through each day, expecting to see his carved features.

Your knee would bob up and down, your fingers would tremble, and your teeth would punch holes into the metal grip of your quill. It was pathetic, really. But, you couldn’t help it.

The days he didn’t show up to class felt like hell. It felt like you were falling through the deepest riff of boredom you’d ever experienced.

Now, as you waited for him to arrive, you settled your things out on the desk before you just as you always did. You had a routine that you clung to that was reserved only for Theodore Nott.

A few breaths later, Theo was walking through the door with his friends trailing behind him.

His hair was perfectly tousled just as it always was; his leather, sharply monogrammed schoolbag was thrown lazily over his shoulder; his uniform sweater was tossed over his arm, whilst his white button-up was only partially fastened, exposing a bit of a lean chest. Beauty marks kissed the skin of his neck, traveling gently upward and onto his face. He was truly a specimen.

You exhaled shakily, inconspicuously preparing yourself to begin sketching. He glanced around the room, salt-spray eyes trailing over every face in the class until coming to rest on you.

As he came to look at you, you did a double take, reclaiming eye contact with him just as soon as you’d broken it. A second or two passed of staring that could have been considered rude and pure panic flowing through your body before he glanced away again.

You blinked a bit, seemingly snapping out of some powerful stupor that only clouded your brain whenever he was around. How stupid.

Despite the intensity of your awkwardness, Theo settled in at his desk as if you hadn’t just gawked at him only moments before.

And as he settled in, you did as well.

The professor entered the classroom from the rear entrance, announcing where the class would be picking up from the day before.

Sounds of rustling papers and thudding book covers echoed about the stone walls, but you only focused on Theo.

Your fingers gripped the quill they’d become so accustomed to as you began to sketch.

Gentle lines. Soft strokes of ink that barely held any space on the paper, but would eventually bear more weight. Your wrist flicked delicately in order to master the movements intended to convey perfection. At least, the way you interpreted it.

There were a few times when Theo looked up and managed to catch your eyes but, like earlier, it seemed to be a passing glance.

Disappointment would flood your gut every time he refocused on something else. Though he didn’t know you, you knew him, and naivety fueled fantasies that one day he’d truly see you and want you.

Your hand clenched tighter around your quill, annoyed by your situation. You made one, strong line and Theo’s nose appeared on your parchment. It was an exact copy. You didn’t need to practice anymore. You were able to replicate him perfectly because you drew him nearly every day and studied him on the days you didn’t. All things considered, you likely knew Theo’s face better than your own.

“I asked if you were still with us?” You heard the words faintly as if you were underwater. Then someone cleared their throat. Your eyes remained on your parchment. The same person cleared their throat again, in a much more exaggerated way.

You glanced up, catching the professor staring directly at you. A quick survey of the room told you that every student had their eyes pinned on you as well—including Theo.

Subconsciously, you slid your books over your parchment and nodded. A deep flush poured into your cheeks.

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you apologized. “Just doodling.”

“Well…just as long as you’re doodling and listening, okay?”

You responded with a small, forced smile. Though you didn’t dare look back up, you could tell Theo was still gazing in your direction. You couldn’t keep the nerves from picking up and manifesting themselves in all physical ways. Your left set of fingernails picked at the dead skin around their edges, your knee bounced again, and your right hand-picked at the dried skin on your bottom lip.

Only a few more moments passed until the professor called the end of class. You gathered your books and parchment up in one fell swoop and shoved them all into your bag. Embarrassment still shone on your face like a beacon of light as you made your way toward the exit.

***

You made your way through the halls of the castle you'd come to adore, trying your best to push all of the shame from your mind. Every time you thought of what happened, another round of hot blood would fill your cheeks. You knew you were red as a tomato but there was nothing you could do about it. You just hoped your hair covered your face enough for no one to notice.

By the time you reached the Slytherin common room, your hands were burning with how tightly you'd been clutching your bag. The leather had bit roughly into your soft palms, causing indentations along the flesh. It looked as if you had sutures wound through your hands. Amusedly, you traced your thumb down them—

“You’re in my History of Magic class, right?”

You jumped and spun around, your bag swinging and bumping against your back.

Now, as if all of your fantasies had come to fruition, you were standing right before Theodore Nott.

Fuck, had he always been this tall? The lean boy towered over you, so much so that he was tilting his face down to look at you. Your head barely cleared the base of his throat. You were enthralled. Your lips hung open stupidly.

“Er, yes, I am,” you chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I, uh—”

“You're all good,” he chuckled, shrugging slightly. “I was just curious what you'd been sketching in class.”

Suddenly, you were regretting all of the times you'd been cursing your body for filling your cheeks with red, hot blush just moments ago. You honestly wished for that sensation to return as your entire face drained of all blood and turned pale white.

“You—er, I was…,” you trailed off stupidly, begging your brain to come up with some kind of quick excuse. “Just, like, little sketches of—” a thought appeared in your head— “plants. For my Herbology class.”

You leaned down to the armchair your bag lay against and popped the buckle open. With shaking hands, you selected the pieces of parchment you'd been working on the day before and presented them to him.

He accepted them with gentle, yet strong hands. His eyebrows raised as he scanned the piece. “Wow, this is great.”

You could've died on the spot.

“Thank you,” you laughed breathlessly, awkwardly clasping your hands together before you.

“Really, this is some of the best artwork I've ever seen,” he smiled, handing it back to you.

You took the pieces of parchment back with a blissful smile and turned back to your bag.

“But I know it's not what you were working on today,” he said.

Your fingers paused their work in shoving the artwork back into your bag. You glanced over your shoulder.

“I'm sorry?” you asked, shocked at his bluntness.

“I know that's not what you were working on today because I saw you working on that piece yesterday at lunch. Today, you were working on something smaller.”

You felt as if you couldn't breathe. An awkward chuckle breezed past your lips.

“Can I see what you were working on today? When the professor called on you? When you covered it up with your books?” His eyes never left yours. They were demanding and soft all at the same time.

“Oh, that was…that wasn't anything special. It was just some lines and scribbles—”

“Were you drawing me?” he asked.

“Er, no! It was—”

“Please don't lie to me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice suddenly an octave lower. Sweetheart? Merlin, what the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

“I don't…”

“You were drawing a picture of me in class today, just like you have been every single day for the entire semester,” he said. “And I want to see them. All of them.”

“Why?” you whimpered, the useless word being the only thing your voice could force out.

“Because when someone watches me so intently every day, I want to know why. If you're drawing me, I feel I'm entitled to see that which I'm being a muse for.”

He had a point. Fuck.

“Okay, sweetheart, you’re gonna take me to your dorm and show me these drawings, alright?” he asked, his voice so painfully gentle.

His hand reached out and he selected a small strand of hair that slipped from behind your ear. He tugged on it gently, massaging it between his thumb and forefinger, memorizing the texture of it.

Your breath shuddered as he looked back at you and maintained searing eye contact as he tucked the stray hairs back behind your ear.

“What are you waiting for?” he murmured.

“What?”

“I asked what you were waiting for. I asked you to do something for me,” he said, seeming almost bored with the conversation. “Walk.”

You nodded slowly, immediately obeying his demands. In your mind, your first interaction with Theo would not have involved your drawings or the boy before you taking over the entire thing.

Theo watched as you turned away from him, eyes facing the staircase to the girls’ dormitory. Your breath pulsed in deep motions.

“Er, what about—?”

“I’ll get your bag,” he interrupted. “I’ve asked you to walk.” His voice was soft but stern.

You sighed shakily, willing yourself to take the first step forward. The fire crackled in the corner and covered the slight sounds his shoes made behind you. He moved silently, like a whisper in the evening. Like a shadow. A chill erupted across your arms.

Your feet carried you up the staircase, your mind barely forcing your body to move. If you stopped for even a second, you were sure you’d fall back right into the boy prowling behind you.

“Theodore, do you think—”

“Call me Theo,” he interrupted, placing a gentle hand at the small of your back as the both of you reached the staircase landing. A small gasp escaped your lips at the contact.

He stopped beside you and looked down at you. You gaped up at him stupidly, enamored and waiting for further instructions. You couldn't be sure why on earth you were listening so intently. Perhaps…?

“Theo,” you corrected. “Am I under the influence of the Imperius Curse?”

He smiled just a bit as if your accusations were amusing, though they weren't in the slightest. “Why don't you tell me? Try and walk down those stairs and see what happens. I think you'll find that I'm not controlling you at all.”

You looked behind you and weighed your options. Of course, you'd never been under the Imperius Curse before so you weren't exactly sure what it’d feel like. Would you have even been able to question him if you had been?

The fact that you were able to weigh your options right now alluded that you weren’t under any influences, but you couldn’t deny that you would have assumed your resistance toward him would have been a bit stronger. Obviously not.

You turned back to face him. His eyes hadn’t seemed to have left you at all. You swallowed thickly—desperate for him to either drop this whole thing or give you another instruction because the eye contact was driving you crazy.

“I won't ask again,” he spoke. A pause filled the air, his mouth forming a small frown. “Take me to your dorm and show me those drawings.” So gentle.

You nodded and walked past him. Once again, his footfalls were silent as he fell into step behind you. The feeling of not being able to sense him was eerie. Simultaneously, the knowledge that he was there was riveting. It felt as if you were being chased by some ancient creature. Like your body was in survival mode and trying to flee. Yet, seemingly involuntarily, tingles erupted in your abdomen each time he whispered a direction.

You stopped in front of your dormitory door. When you didn’t move after a few seconds, he reached past your frozen body and turned the handle.

The door creaked open, revealing a mostly dark room, save the enchanted stove in the center of the floor which emanated small waves of cozy heat.

Again, he placed his hand against your back, urging you forward. As you crossed the threshold of the room, you came to a realization—one that seemed to make the tingling in your abdomen ten times stronger.

It was just you and Theo in this room. That could’ve meant nothing but just the way he spoke had chills running down your arms. Surely, he meant to speak to you in that way. You knew it wasn’t just the way he sounded because you’d heard him plenty of times in class. Today, his voice was softer and lower and demanding. It was a far cry from his typical light, almost bored words. Today, he sounded purposeful.

Surely, it meant something. It had to. He shut the door.

“Where are they, darling?” he asked. Again with the pet names… Your breath caught in your throat.

“Er, they’re over here,” you whispered, leading him toward the leatherbound art portfolio crammed between your bed and bedside table.

You fell into a squat, sliding your collection of pieces out from their hiding spot and displaying them on the bed.

One by one, hundreds of sketches of the boy looming behind you slid across the satin duvet. His drawn eyes pierced through you, threatening to reveal every private thought you'd had since you'd begun creating these portraits.

Theo’s breath seemed to halt just as yours had moments ago. He leaned around you and pressed his fingers against the thick parchment. He traced the outlines of his own face and body, careful to avoid touching the medium itself, so as not to smudge anything. Your heart swelled as he looked at them.

Both panic and excitement vibrated in your body with each touch he placed to your works. No one had ever seen these before, especially not Theo.

“Why do you draw me?” he asked, eyes not leaving the parchment.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes while you debated your answer. There were a thousand reasons why you drew him—desire unfortunately being one of the main ones, but inspiration being another. You weren't sure if you could answer straightly.

“Er…” You racked your brain for a response.

His eyes turned back to you. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m sorry. I don't know.”

“Do you want me?” he asked, eyes never leaving yours. You nearly choked on your spit.

“What—er… what exactly do you mean? Do I want you to what?” you sputtered awkwardly.

“You know what I meant,” he said. Just like earlier, his hand reached out to select a stray piece of hair that hung next to your cheek. His fingers tugged gently on it as he seemed to inspect it. Only, this time, he didn't push it back behind your ear.

Slowly, he allows the curl of hair to settle against his palm, situated up against his thumb. The rest of his fingers press gently against your head just behind your ear, his pinky easing itself up and down the curvature of your skull in a soothing manner.

Your hands are shaking; you can't stop them. It’s so impossibly difficult to maintain eye contact with him, knowing that his steel blue irises are going to be burning their typical holes directly through your cheeks.

Despite his lidded, easy gaze, your heart rate skyrocketed every time he looked at you.

When you did nothing, his other hand came up to the opposite side of your head to mirror the movements of the first. Your lips parted as a blush blossomed within your stomach.

“Do you want me?” he repeated, all but whispering.

It felt like hours passed before you were finally able to will your lips to form words, though—in reality—it was only a few seconds.

“Yes,” you finally said, nodding your head desperately.

Theo wasted no time pressing his lips directly to yours. Your eyes widened in shock for only a few seconds before they slipped shut, and the kiss deepened.

Theo tasted just as you would always have imagined. Echoes of pine, rain, and even a bit of lavender billowed against your cheeks with each breath he took.

His hands held your head right where he wanted it, allowing him to maintain full control of the contact.

The uselessness of your body was apparent. In an attempt to combat that, you willed your hands to rest lightly on his chest. The warmth beneath your fingertips was reminiscent of dreams you'd had of him. Dreams where his lips were on yours and your hands were pressed to his skin, and the similarities between them and current reality were not lost on you.

His hands dropped from your face to your hips. He pulled you even closer to his body, his lips devouring yours, his scent all-consuming. Your back arched against him, deliciously molding into him like a piece of the earth. A gasp erupted between your lips.

“Draw me,” Theo sighed, pulling away from you. You stared at him, breath coming out in hard pants.

“What?” you gasped.

“Draw me right now,” he demanded. One hand still held you against him with the opposite reaching up to touch your hair once more. “I want you to draw me right now and let me watch the process.”

You weighed your options, eyes flicking away from his and then meeting them again. This pattern repeated itself a few times before you finally took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down for the first time since this whole interaction started.

You weren't going to allow him to have this much control over you.

With shaking hands, you pulled away from him and turned to select one of the sketchbooks and charcoal pencils off of your desk.

He settled himself onto your bed, straightbacked and staring through your soul. You swallowed thickly as you selected the chair against your desk and willed yourself to calm down.

Drawing Theo had become a daily thing for you so—besides the obvious—there was no reason for you to be so nervous. The two of you accidentally made eye contact constantly throughout class, so why was this different? At least, that's what you tried to convince yourself of.

This was different because you were so close to him that you could see every breath, every shudder, every blink, every beat of his heart… you were now privy to every detail your art had been lacking in the past.

Everything that was missing was now able to be added. It was incredible. You could hardly contain your excitement.

But, after building yourself up and convincing your fingers that the shakes were not necessary, Theo stood from his spot on the bed as soon as your pencil touched paper.

“Er,” you started. “Theo, models have to stay put.”

He walked around behind you, staring at your paper. His hands rested on your shoulders.

“I know you don’t need to see me to draw me,” he murmured. His lips caressed over the curvature of your ear. You shuddered at the feeling of his breath against your flesh.

“I want you to draw me and…,” he stopped to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the junction between your neck and shoulder. You bit back a moan. “…if you stop, I will make you regret it. Does that sound okay?”

His hands slid down your arms, warm and gentle. You nodded slowly—heat beginning to pool between your thighs. A shudder passed through you.

“What if—?”

“No, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “Just draw me and don’t stop.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of yours and positioned it against the piece of parchment. His thumb brushed against your knuckles as he pushed you to begin sketching.

For a moment, you did nothing and he did nothing, then his lips pressed once more to your neck as soon as you began drawing.

You shuddered but forced your hand to keep moving. A familiar portrait—his lidded eyes, his sharp nose—began to appear before you just like it had so many times before. This was so usual for you, it was almost comfortable.

But then there was Theo—lips at your neck, seductive words in your ears, fingers slowly tracing down your arms.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he whispered. “Keep going.”

His hands slipped to your waist past the wooden chair’s back. His finger sent shockwaves up your spine. Your hand shook around the pencil, mussing up a few of your lines. It didn’t matter, though, you still saw Theo. His features were much too familiar.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nodded, biting your lip to hide any embarrassing sounds.

His fingers, wrapped around your front, began to split your shirt buttons apart one at a time. Only, every movement was painfully slow. You almost wanted to shout at him to hurry up.

Once your shirt was completely open, he let the two sides linger for a moment there—not pulling them apart, not closing them back. Beneath those thin layers of fabric lay a whole new world of intimacy for him to explore, but it seemed that he was waiting for something.

Finally, you perked up enough to ask. “Why’d you stop?” Your knee bounced nervously.

“Why'd you stop?”

You looked down and, sure enough, your hand had ceased all movements and the portrait of Theo was only half finished.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, resuming your piece. With each new inch of skin he touched, it was getting harder and harder to focus on something as minute as drawing a picture.

Then, as soon as you began working again, he resumed his teasing. At this point, he slipped your shirt apart and let it fall down over your shoulders. He allowed the sleeves to bunch around your elbows where they were bent against the chair's arms.

Your heart raced as his warm breath fanned across your naked skin. Thank Merlin the bra you wore was half-decent—all black and simple lace.

When his fingers made contact with your flesh, you could have sworn your heart stopped. The simple contact had your eyes fluttering, blurring your vision.

“Don't stop,” he growled, plunging his hands into your bra and massaging your breasts. You whimpered and continued your art. This was much harder than you ever could have imagined.

His hands found the clip that rested on the front of your bra and expertly unhooked it. Your breasts sprung free—hard and sore from his toying. A soft moan left you as his hands continued to touch one of your most intimate areas.

Then, as your pencil came to the curves of his neck, his right abandoned your chest and slid down your exposed stomach. Air caught in your throat.

His free hand slowly but determinedly tugged the edge of your skirt up to the top of your thighs. The uniform fabric pooled there awkwardly, showing off your tights and thin panties.

“Fuck, you look as good as I imagined,” he sighed against your ear. One hand is still on your breast, one hand sliding itself between your thighs.

By this point, you'd finished your basic sketch and, typically, would start to go back over everything a bit darker. Then, you'd shade all the appropriate spots. Then, the bell would ring. Typically. But this wasn't a typical thing.

His fingers made contact with your core through your panties. The sounds that left you now were much more shameless—wanton and desperate as he acted out everything you'd imagined in your most private moments.

As your pencil traced the edge of his cheekbones, he slid your undergarments to the side and pushed two fingertips through your mounting slick. Your head fell back and his shoulder was there to catch it.

His lips pressed back to your neck, not caring so much now that you weren't drawing. He seemed satisfied enough with how far you'd gotten. Or he was just too focused on your pleasure.

When he finally sank his fingers into you, your moans became high-pitched and your hips began to rock against his hand.

He groaned against your flesh, mimicking your breathy sounds. His left hand continued to pinch your nipple about, stimulating what he couldn't with his right.

Between his tongue on your neck, his fingers on your breast, his hand against your core, and his sporadically whispered words, you knew you wouldn't last long against him. Still, you forced yourself to try.

With a weak chest, you leaned forward and made your hand resume its previous work. You finished his cheekbones—your hips still rolling against him; you finished his ears—your lips parted in a whine; you finished his throat—your eyes began to roll back.

Then he was sucking a particularly deep bruise against an especially sensitive spot on your neck and you were cumming hard around his hand. Your spend pooled against his palm and your legs.

The pressure from your hands crushed the tip of the charcoal pencil against the paper, creating a big, black blotch across his cheek. It formed a sort of scar against his unblemished skin.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of your face and collapsed onto the parchment, blurring another bit of the sketch. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” he asked, gently retrieving his fingers from within you. “What’s wrong?”

“The picture,” you whined. “It's ruined.”

He leaned around you to take a peek and, upon seeing the disaster that had become your art, he laughed aloud.

“No, darling,” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your head. “I think this is your best one yet.”

-

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[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Riddle Rosehearts - Night Sky Chiffon Vignette

"I preferred to see it go"

[Library – Entrance Hall]

Deuce: Mmm, this jam is delicious! It really goes well with the cookies. Here, try some, Housewarden.

Riddle: I believe I told you already that I have no intention of eating in the library.

Deuce: Ah. R-Right. Sorry.

Kalim: But, y'know…

Kalim: We said we'd "cook," so we've put jam on the cookies, made some kebabs and poured tea.

Kalim: We've already gotten this far, so do you really need to keep yourself from chowing down?

Riddle: Obviously.

Riddle: THERE IS NO RULE AGAINST COOKING IN THE LIBRARY AS LONG AS I DO NOT EAT!

Jack: Still feel like it's a pretty big issue… Hm? Actually, yeah, this jam is real good.

Jack: I've never tasted something like this before. What kind of jam is it?

Riddle: Based on the color, I would hazard a guess that it is rose jam. It was made with roses that we all picked just the other day.

Jack: Cool, I didn't know Heartslabyul made fancy things like this. Nice.

Riddle: Indeed. There is a rule that at a specific tea party, scones must be served with rose jam, so…

Jack: Ah, I see. You don't need to elaborate, I got it.

Deuce: Oh yeah, we were supposed to be getting ready for the next tea party after classes today, huh.

Deuce: We gotta get back as soon as we can. Don't want people to think I'm avoiding the prep work.

Riddle: At this rate, I am not only worried about the preparations for the tea party, but whether or not we will be able to make it to even see the tea party…

Jack: Yeah. At least we're getting things delivered to us thanks to the Headmaster's incentives…

Jack: But what I'm worried most about is the lantern making. I don't know if the others'll be able to make them all.

Riddle: Right. I am a little wary of that as well.

Kalim: Don't worry about that. Looks like my guys've got the lanterns covered already.

Riddle: Eh, already? That's wonderful!

Kalim: Yup. See, look at this. I just got this message from Jamil.

Jack/Riddle/Deuce: MM?

Riddle: "How many lanterns constitutes a lot?"

Riddle: …It seems as though he has sent the same message countless times.

Jack: I can hear just how impatient Jamil-senpai is getting here.

Kalim: I was eating, so I just hadn't replied yet. Ahahah!

Riddle: You should respond immediately.

Riddle: …Somehow my worry is increasing. Jack, could you also reach out to your dorm?

Riddle: Tell Leona-senpai that we're counting on him to help make lanterns too.

Jack: Eh, but… I mean…

Riddle: What is the matter? Your voice is unusually stilted.

Jack: Uh, that is… I just didn't want to be that guy who asks for help from the Housewarden all pathetically just 'cause I need it…

Jack: But even then, that doesn't mean I want to rely on other dorms…! Urg, what am I supposed to do?

Riddle: You're a little difficult, aren't you?

Jack: Maybe so, but I don't want to be called that by you of all people, Riddle-senpai…!

Kalim: It'll be fine! Leona won't care about something like that.

Kalim: I bet he'd say like… "Don't worry about it. When you're a pinch, we all have to pitch in… Right?" with a real cool smirk or something.

Jack: He definitely wouldn't.

Riddle: I doubt it.

Riddle: This is Leona-senpai we're speaking of… I feel like he'd more likely make a quip about how ridiculous it is for two Housewardens to be in such a predicament.

Jack: He definitely would.

Deuce: I can't really imagine the Savanaclaw guys all getting together to make lanterns, anyway.

Jack: What's that supposed to mean? You trying to say we're uncultured, or something?

Deuce: On the other hand, we don't nothing to worry about with Heartslabyul! I bet they're all putting their heads together to make some lanterns right now as we speak.

Riddle: I wonder…

Deuce: Eh?

Riddle: When Cater and Trey came by earlier, I did tell them that we were relying on their cooperation, but… I am a tad worried.

Riddle: Perhaps I should send a message out to every one of our students, just in case.

Deuce: A message on top of having them relay your words? What sort of thing would you write?

Riddle: I would order every single person to make 10 lanterns. Anyone who does not comply will receive a harsh punishment…

Deuce: Eeh!? I don't think you'd need to have that sort of punishment at all.

Riddle: Oh, so… You believe that someone like Ace would craft these lanterns of his own volition?

Deuce: Huh?

Deuce: … …......

Deuce: …I think everyone but Ace will definitely make them!

Jack: I mean, I don't think you gotta worry that much, you already told Trey-senpai and Cater-senpai what we need, right?

Jack: I'm sure that's enough. They'll do as their boss tells them to.

Kalim: Yeah, yeah. You don't gotta worry, it'll all be fine.

Riddle: We're very different from Savanaclaw and Scarabia, however.

Riddle: Will they actually help us without some form of repercussion…? I am doubtful.

[Library – Entrance Hall]

Riddle: Urk, ouch. My leg is cramping up…!

Jack: The bit of ballet we did just now used more muscles than I thought we would. We should stretch any sore muscles carefully.

Deuce: We need to do yoga next, right? Maybe we should start out by sitting down and stretching, then.

Kalim: Ooh, great idea! After moving around so much, we should give our bodies a break by stretching out a bit.

Kalim: Okay then, Jack, I'm gonna lean forward, so can you push on my back? I'll do you next!

Jack: Got it. …Woah, you're pretty flexible, Kalim-senpai.

Deuce: Okay, so I'll push on your back then, Housewarden.

Riddle: Right, go ahead.

[stretch]

Riddle: Whew... It seems as though everyone is familiar with some sort of athletics here.

Riddle: I don’t think I lack the basic necessary muscle foundation, myself…

Riddle: But I don't have as much stamina as you or Jack, nor do I have the flexibility that Kalim has.

Riddle: I'd hate to think I am showing you a disgraceful side of me.

Deuce: NOT AT ALL! YOU DID BALLET JUST FINE. I TOTALLY THOUGHT YOU'D BE WORSE THAN YOU WERE!

Riddle: Deuce… Don't you think you are being too honest with your thoughts there?

Deuce: Oh. Really? I meant it to be a compliment…

Riddle: Well, no matter. I may not have had experience with ballet specifically, but I do have some knowledge of social dances.

Riddle: So, perhaps if I seemed "fine" while performing ballet, that may be why.

Deuce: I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun or anything…!

Riddle: Heh, I'm not mad. …And actually, there was a time in my life when I took gymnastics lessons.

Deuce: What, gymnastics!? Like, you did backflips, or spun around on a bar, or something…!?

Riddle: Haha, never anything that intense.

Riddle: These were simple lessons for young children to build up strength by doing simple tasks such as exercises on a mat or a vaulting horse.

Riddle: I was especially terrible at vaulting… At first, I couldn't time it correctly to brace myself to lift up and would often end up hitting my face hard.

Riddle: Because it would hurt every time I tried, I just couldn't get over that automatic fear response… I believe it took me about half a month before I could finally make the vault.

Riddle: When I think back to it now, I don't think it was any higher than my knees.

Deuce: Ah, I totally get it. You back down from a lug once, and it's not easy to face 'em again.

Riddle: A lug?

Deuce: Ah, no, nevermind… But that's amazing that you were able to keep on practicing even though you were scared, Housewarden.

Riddle: It is said that a one's physical condition is directly related to one's ability to concentrate, so it was a necessary lesson for me to excel in my studies.

Riddle: I quit around the time I was 4 years old, as it had served its purpose by then.

Riddle: Have you never taken any sort of lesson like this?

Deuce: Mmm, I've tried a few things, but none of them really clicked…

Deuce: When I was little, I was having more fun blasting around on my tricycle!

Deuce: My mom always said there was no reason to force me to do anything, so I didn't really…

Deuce: …AH!! Sorry!

Riddle: ? What is with the sudden apology?

Deuce: I wasn't thinking…

Deuce: I WAS TOLD I SHOULD BE CAREFUL TALKING ABOUT MY PARENTS AROUND YOU!

Riddle: …Deuce, I think you're being a little too straightforward again.

Riddle: What you've said may be the case, but you probably shouldn't say that part out loud, especially to me.

Deuce: Eh, ah, sorry.

Riddle: I'm not bothered. There's really no reason to worry.

Riddle: Even today, the fact that I was even able to do the bare minimum with ballet was all thanks to my mother, who made sure that I would build core muscles.

Riddle: I am grateful for my mother's discipline, since it has allowed me to become who I am today.

Deuce: Really?

Deuce: I see… I guess moms are pretty strong in every family!

Riddle: Heh… Yes, you're right. I agree with you there.

Deuce: Okay… That should be enough stretching. I'll press harder on your back now, so let me know if it hurts!

Riddle: Alright.

[streeeeetch]

Riddle: I am grateful for my mother. …That is why I worry about the lantern-making.

Riddle: They don't have my watchful eye, nor any punishment looming over them. Will they actually be able to make anything properly?

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

Trey: …So, to sum up, it looks like we all need to make lanterns to help Riddle and Deuce escape from the library.

Cater: Let's all work together to get it all done! Yeah!

[silence]

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

Cater: Let's all work together to get it all done! Yeah!

[silence]

Heartslabyul Student A: Even if you tell us that… I'm a little busy with my club activities.

Heartslabyul Student B: There's other things I want to get done, and besides, I don't want to do something as lame as making lanterns.

Trey: I'm sure everyone has their own plans, but I'm hoping for a little help here.

Trey: It'd be bad if Riddle and Deuce can't come back to the dorm like this.

Ace: I meaaaaan, would it really be thaaat bad～? Kinda nice not having Deuce around, in my book.

Cater: Who was the one who went all the way to the library with Trey-kun, hm? Methinks you doth protest too much, Ace-chan.

Ace: That wasn't to help Deuce out! I just thought it'd be bad if the Housewarden was gone, that's all.

Cater: Yep, mhm, I believe you. I'm sure everyone else would also think it was bad if Riddle-kun wasn't here.

Heartslabyul Student C: Really, though? I feel like it's be much easier not having to hear about the Queen of Hearts' laws, or getting told off about any rules here and there.

Heartslabyul Student A: Yeah, yeah! He might be a bit better now than when school first started, sure… But it's still too strict here!

Trey: …So, can someone do his job, then?

Heartslabyul Student A: We got a Vice Housewarden for that.

Cater: I guess I can understand why all you younger folk would think that, sure～ But what about the other juniors?

Cater: You guys really think we can keep on going without Riddle-kun?

Heartslabyul Student B/D: …......

Heartslabyul Student B: Ever since Riddle became Housewarden, it's been real rigid and I got tons of problems with the way things are… But it's definitely better than it used to be.

Heartslabyul Student D: Yeah. And my grades have been getting better thanks to him providing test prep and fixing our reports without us even asking for it.

Trey: Right? I even heard that he was planning on holding a study session tomorrow for those who've gotten failing marks.

Heartslabyul Student A: Urk.

Cater: So basically, that means everyone needs Riddle after all, right?

Heartslabyul Students: …

Ace: …Fiiiiine.

Ace: Guess there wouldn't be any other weirdo out there who'd do stuff like that without waiting to be asked like the Housewarden, so.

Ace: Let's help him out and make some lanterns!

Ace: …Oh, and for Deuce, too.

Cater: Mhm, yep, he's an afterthought. Totally, gotcha.

Trey: Alright, it's been decided. Let's all get to work.

Heartslabyul Students: YES, SIR!

Kalim: The boat's been returned, so all's we gotta do is head back to campus! Glad we made it.

Jack: Take a look, there's still lanterns in the air. We probably can walk back without any streetlights.

Riddle: Indeed. There truly were a large number of them afloat.

Deuce: …Rosehearts-ryōchō, I heard from [Yuu] just a bit ago.

Deuce: Apparently, most of the lanterns were made by the Heartslabyul students!

Riddle: Is that so? It was good we let Trey and Cater know, then.

Deuce: Yeah, that's true… But more than that, it means that Heartslabyul's teamwork is top notch!

Riddle: Right… Yes, you're right. Everyone came together even without any penalties for failing.

Riddle: Perhaps it was all because I always lead with a firm hand. Everyone did as they were asked because I was correct.

Riddle: But what if… What if there was some other reason…?

[trip]

Riddle: WAH!

Kalim: Woah, you okay?

Riddle: Ah, yes… I tripped on my hair and almost fell. Thank you, Kalim.

Kalim: No worries! But that does look pretty difficult to walk around with. Want me to call the carpet after all?

Riddle: No, there's no need. Rather than us, I preferred to see it go with Vorpal on his trip back earlier.

Deuce: Speaking of… Why did that princess grow her hair out so long to use as a rope?

Deuce: I'd think that the witch woulda been suspicious if she was growing her hair out like that trying to escape…

Jack: Don't you remember the book from the library said that she was told by the witch to grow it out?

Deuce: Oh, is that what it said?

Deuce: It must've been hard dealing with hair that long, and she still listened to what she was told…

Deuce: I guess the Princess in the Tower really did think the witch was a good mother.

Deuce: …AH!! SORRY, AGAIN, I…!

Riddle: You don't need to exclaim every single time. I told you already that I'm paying it no mind.

Riddle: …

Riddle: …Although, no matter how precious she may have taken care of her hair, it truly is cumbersome. There's no way I can continue walking with this.

Riddle: …Alright.

[snip!!]

[flutter]

Deuce/Kalim/Jack: !?

Deuce: W-wait… Housewarden, what are you doing!?

Riddle: What's wrong?

Deuce: Y-Your hair! Did you just chop it all off with your magic!?

Riddle: That's right. We've resolved our library dilemma, so there should be no issue with cutting it.

Jack: But… That was a bit too much! Even I think that straight cut looks terrible!

Riddle: Eh. D-Does it look weird…?

Deuce/Jack: YES, IT LOOKS WEIRD!!

Deuce: Uggh… We need to find scissors before we get back to the dorm. I'll fix it.

Deuce: I can't let the others in the dorm see our boss-man look this lame!

Riddle: IS IT THAT BAD!?

Kalim: Ahahah, it's awesome how decisive you are, Riddle!

Kalim: You look like a whole lot of weight's off your shoulders. Maybe I should cut mine too?

Jack: That'll probably just start up even more problems. Kalim-senpai, please wait to get it cut by Jamil-senpai.

Riddle: There's no need for such a fuss. I had no more need for long hair.

Riddle: Our first priority should be to head back to the dorm.

Deuce: We'll make it in time for after-croquet tea, so we really need to fix it up before then…!

Riddle: Yes, there's the tea, but there's many other things to be done as well, is there not?

Riddle: We should return posthaste and reward our dormmates who put their utmost into making all these lanterns.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[ajortga]

for i can't help falling in love with you

pairing: vada cavell x fem reader

summary: not only are you new and in almost all of vada's classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. she starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, she's feeling something she knows that you shouldn't feel for a friend.

word count: 10.1k+

a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, this is fluffy and sweet, spent way too long on it but nonetheless, not regretful!

based off a request! this is for my vada <3ers

-

R transfers, V sees her almost all the time and eventually starts falling for R, V then embarrassingly asks R out for dinner! Just plainly puppy love, literally not much but I find these types of tropes sooo comforting, u can change some up a bit!!

-

It’s loud, bustling, chaotic every single day in the cafeteria.

As soon as the bell rings around the hallways and into the classrooms for lunch break, everyone slams into each other and sprints to the front of the lunch line. Vada even remembers while she walked with Nick some boy tripped in thin air and fell to the floor. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. That was until Nick and her found out he had to get stitches to repair his nose. 

She laughed even harder, she couldn’t help it.

Vada slurped her slushy as she kicked her feet, talking with Nick who was drinking an iced latte.

“In a sense, slurpees are better than coffee. You don’t have to immediately shit diarrhea as soon as you plop on the toilet.”

He agrees, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but who would want slushies every day? They stain your mouth.”

“Well would you rather have a temporary colorful tongue that can be seen as cool, or stay in the bathroom while crying for help?”

It seems like as soon as she said it, Nick gagged as he held his stomach.

“You have 30 seconds before you're going to shit your pants,” she states, looking at him up and down. He wasn’t moving.

“Nick, go!” Vada yelled as she choked on a small giggle, watching Nick run to the bathroom holding his pants up to his sides.

As the baggy clothed brunette watched her best friend race to the bathroom, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. Vada slurped on her red slushy. 

She was waiting for Nick until she noticed someone with a jacket wrapped around a tank top with her headphones on and book in one hand. You. She’s never seen you before and it was almost certain she’s seen everyone at least once before to know their name. She was bored, so she just watched.

You were folding a gum wrapper into a heart while you followed Mia into the girls restroom. Mia was always the one to give student tours when she could. You must’ve been new. But then you came back out without your jacket, holding it in the other hand as she saw Mia’s slushie spilled all over your jacket. She could almost hear how she was apologizing over and over again and you smiled it off, showing her how it was okay and you could clean up when you got home. 

Then she took you back to her friend group, seeing the way your hair went side to side as you walked. Before she could watch you even more, Nick called out her name.

“I just took the biggest shit of my li- what are you looking at?”

She hears him but doesn’t turn his way,still looking a little, “Just someone who I think is new. Mia is giving her a tour.”

Nick said a small “ohhh..” in response, “Well what’s so exciting about that?”

“Mia accidentally spilled the slushie we bought this morning on her jacket by accident.”

“That’s so not cool, she must be cold having to take that off, was she mad?”

“No, she just brushed it off, smiled in a somewhat assuring way, and gave Mia the gum wrapper she folded before Mia took her back to her friend group.”

“Ooh. She’s patient then.”

“Yeah.”

-

After lunch passed, Vada realized you were in almost all her periods, well only the ones she attended. Sometimes she was late from Amelia hogging the bus. You kept to yourself, gave shy smiles as the teachers introduced you.

But as the next day rose she was back at school again.

Her favorite class was her film class, it was like a free period and she got to touch cameras and watch movies at least twice a week.

She sits in the corner of the room, she likes the way she can look out the window and see the sight of the sky while also seeing her own reflection.

FIlm class is oddly comforting, music always plays before the period begins. She places her phone on top of her desk.

So for the third time that day, she sees you walk through, with your backpack hung over one shoulder and the other with a book. She wants to feel surprised, almost strange how you end up in her class, but instead she almost feels a sense of gratefulness. 

She doesn’t want to stare. But her eyes betray her, because in one second her eyes are on you. New students weren’t regular, well in her core classes, sure. But film? Almost never. She watches the way you wait by the teacher’s desk, waiting, unsure, not knowing if you should tap her shoulder or just wait until she notices you. Usually, Vada and Mia would sit together, but sometimes on bad days, they would have to move from talking and laughing too much. So they stuck to sitting diagonally and passing notes in the back of the classroom. Finally, the teacher notices you and the smile she gives you is almost too happy as she rubs your shoulder and stands up.

“Alright everyone,” she quiets down her music, “..usually during film I’d let the music keep rolling, but just for today I’d like you to greet our new student who just transferred here. Her name is Y/N.”

People around the class say awkward hi’s, random waves, some of the girls stare at you and awe, and even some of the well-known guys look at you, eyebrows raised and Vada can almost feel their want for you. 

It makes her roll her eyes in disgust.

You do an awkward wave, wanting to shrink into the floor, a smile tugged at your lips.

“Okay sweetheart, there aren’t many options for seating since this class is more compacted than my others. But you can sit next to Vada.” Ms. Valentina points at Vada, “She’s the one in the very back, the open seat behind Mia.” 

Your eyes almost light up when you notice Mia’s in your class, giving a small nod and trying to squish into the back. 

Mia waves at you, shaking your shoulders to show her excitement as you sit down. Vada can almost smell the sweetness of your shampoo when you sit. It smells like ripe strawberries with the fulfilling scent of roasted marshmallows. She wants to sniff your hair, but you’re already pulling out your notebook from your backpack.

“Hey girl!” Mia whispers, turning around to face you as you smile.

“Hey slurpee stainer,” you joke, your voice is soft, airy, melodic. Not like anything Vada’s ever heard. Sure she’s heard many voices, but yours sounded like a lullaby to shush a baby to sleep if you wanted to.

Mia giggles, slapping your arm, “I said I’m sorryyyy. I’d say I’d take you shopping on the weekends! Don’t use that against me,” she scolds, and that makes you laugh, you cup your mouth to contain the giggles and Vada can hear an adorable squeak come out from it.

“I know, don’t be sorry, I was just joking, I’ll just wash it when I get home,” you whisper.

Before you two could talk again the teacher spoke, “Okay guys, it was a long day yesterday and I was planning on printing out some papers for assignments two days prior, but our school printer broke and the ink on mine is hanging on for dear life.” She pauses, everyone didn’t know where she was going with this, “So I’m just going to roll a movie, you guys can choose but I really don’t have much. You can talk, keep it low and hey, if you’re sitting around Y/N, lighten up the mood and get to know her.”

There were random okays and suggestions. As Ms. Valentina kept reading aloud the names, it was almost certain that Shrek was going to be chosen. For the third time this month. Until she spoke out a new suggestion, and everyone chose La La Land instead.

As she played the movie off the projector, Mia scooted to you.

“Okay, so no pressure, buttt my dad's gone today and I know you said you didn’t have homework. If you don’t want to, it's completely understandable, but me and Vada,” she gestures to the brunette sitting next to you, with her hands clasped together and looking at you with interest, “We sometimes go on pool runs or just drive to the nearest seven eleven. Honestly, it’s whatever. But if you wanna hang, I can give you a ride back home, let you drop off your stuff, and we can get to know each other more at mine. What are you thinking?”

Your lips tug into a thoughtful grin, telling Mia she doesn’t have to because she accidentally spilled her drink on you. But Vada kept staring at you. The blonde glanced at her, she saw her basically staring at your side profile, then back at you before giving her a light leg nudge that you didn’t notice. 

“No no! Don’t feel pressured, just know that” Mia breathes and pats your forearm reassuringly, “..that I think we should hang out more, kay? You don’t know how many people don’t get mad when someone spills something on them. At least you’re someone who's patient as hell.” She makes you laugh as you think again.

“Okay, I’d love that,” you respond, simply. 

“Then it’s set! Just meet us at that broccoli lookin’ tree, kay?”

-

As soon as the bell roars and everyone starts opening the gates like it’s the ones they’ll see in heaven, you squish into the crowd of people and look for this broccoli looking tree Mia was referring to. It didn’t take you long.

The only broccoli looking tree was the only tree that was stranded from all the poofy and leafy looking trees, and you could see her with the other brunette that you sat next to in class. You think her name was Vada. You didn’t want to ask, if you did and Vada wasn’t her name, you might as well crawl into a hole. 

Mia immediately greets you.

Vada kicks at dirt beneath her, smiling a little foolishly, she realizes when she thinks how silly she might look to you. Her silly smile slightly fades to a more soft one to try and not seem weird. Instead you feel like she might feel uncomfortable with you, maybe she’s closed to people she meets at first. You hope that it doesn’t stay that way

“Get in!” The blonde smiles, and you swerve into the backseat as you drive off to the nearest seven eleven.

Mia’s car smells like flowers, you almost feel a little carsick from the leather and floral scent mixed together. You smell something else though, sweet plum and fluffy musk. You think it’s Vada, you can almost smell her shampoo from here.

It’s a little quiet, Mia talks to Vada, you try not to disrupt so you pretend you're looking at the window staring at literally nothing. It’s like the blue-eyed girl can see the way you try to keep to yourself and don’t want to be involved when you don’t think you should. So she bumps the music up.

Vada wants to talk to you. She can feel this urge for her heart to make her mouth open and speak. But for some reason she feels nervous. It’s weird, she’s usually open and starts off with teasing. Why can’t she speak now? Maybe it’s because.. Vada doesn’t even have a reason to know, she just doesn’t know.

“Dude, how is there traffic already to go to a fucking seven-eleven? We literally just left school.” Mia murmurs, tapping her shoes to the music.

Vada turns around, to look at the cars behind her, maybe to check how many are behind her.

That’s what Mia thought, but Vada wondered what you were doing. She's never met someone that tries to be considerate, to be polite and not wanting to interrupt anyone at any time

She notices the way you take the opportunity of the slightly opened window to take a breath of fresh air and let that small crack to let the small breeze blow through your hair. She sees the way you twirl your necklace up and down, side to side, then spin it around your fingers. She notices how you don’t notice her, so you don’t look at her, you look at the sky, the small baby cows, the cars. 

It’s like a pencil is engraving into her mind to write all the details she sees. But she doesn’t know why. 

Your figure slightly leans into the window, closing your eyes to rest. Maybe you’re thinking about Mia and what a good friend she is. Maybe you’re thinking about wanting to get to know her, Vada. Maybe you’re thinking of how long it’ll take for you to blend in into this place. Maybe you’re thinking how your place didn’t have many cows everywhere. Maybe you lived in the snowy mountains, or the coastal shorelines where you could take a dip in cool water every summer morning.

She sees your eyes flutter as the car slowly stops. Her body tenses and turns back to the front, you’re already at seven-eleven. 

“It’s honestly kind of warm outside, I can turn on the AC on this thing if you don’t wanna go,” Mia says, finally turning around to look at you rubbing your eyes.

“No, no, it’s ‘kay, I’ll come, gotta exercise these legs anyway.” You say, opening her door and following suite with Mia and Vada. The small concreted rocks crunching beneath your shoes. 

Mia obviously wants to check out the candy section, but Vada wants another slushy. 

“Hold up, I think they have the candy they didn’t have when I checked the other time. Vadaaa you can just roam with Y/N. I’m not sure if you guys had seven-eleven where you lived.” She peeks into the candy section and with a spin of a corner she’s gone.

Vada stands there, awkwardly. She feels like if anything, you should be the one standing there like that. You stand there, looking at the slushies. Cola, blue raspberry, cherry, mountain dew, honestly you didn’t know if you should get one.

“Do you want to get one?” Vada asks, the first time you really heard her speak.

Your ears perk, turning to face her, “I’m not really a slushy person,” you speak softly, “I’m a little thirsty though.”

Vada smiles at that, “I like the cherry flavor and blue raspberry, but you gotta swirl it a certain way for it to taste the way I really like it, y’know?” She speaks, you nod, noticing her baggy basketball shorts and oversized shirt.

She walks closer, she can smell the same sweetness of your scent. Strawberries and roasted marshmallows. Your scent is oddly comforting, a scent where anyone would hug you longer and never let you go to smell it forever.

She stops before you can process anything, slightly backing away and focusing on the slushy dispenser.

“Okay. So like, I know you’re probably not supposed to do this but I just put my index and middle finger under the dispenser and,” she stops, looking at you, “make sure you wash your hands though,” she laughs. “But if you don’t know what flavor, just lick it off your fingers.”

Vada can almost sense you suppressing your laughter, “Seriously! I don’t give two shits about those security cameras. Honestly we go here so often we could get a free slushy and not pay.” She places her fingers under the dispenser of the cherry blast and presses the button, stopping it and licking it off her fingers.

It’s like she’s teaching you. She likes the way you’re interested and really looks like you want to learn.

“Do you want to try?” The slightly shorter brunette asks, her voice trying not to seem pressuring at all.

You think, looking at her fingers as she wipes it with a random brown napkin and throwing it away in the trash, “Okay,” your smooth voice responds before approaching beside her.

You use your index finger and place it under the blue raspberry one.

“This one?” Vada questions, when you nod she presses softly on the dispense button.

Your giggle from the icy cold makes her feel like the happiness she feels when she makes a small child laugh.

Vada turns to look at you and smiles, taking off her hand off the dispense button and watching you lick your fingers. (they were clean I promise)

“I like this one,” you say, making a small eye contact glance with her.

“Do you want it? I can pay.”

“It’s okay, I’ll see what’s at Mia’s home, I seriously don’t think I can finish the small one alone!”

-

Vada gets to know you more the more Mia invites you. She notices the way you open up, instead of trying to politely look out the window so you don’t disrupt conversations that you aren’t sure what their about, the car is lively,

Loud.

The music is always turned down now, giggles are filled, sometimes there are jokes about classes, teachers, people, the past.

Sometimes there are questions, family, hobbies.

Vada learns you have two siblings, a much younger and much older one, older brother, younger sister.

You like to read and write, play the guitar, bake, you love going on sunsetty and late night drives, it makes her interested in that part.

When you told her, a part of her wanted to tell you, ‘I like late night drives too.’ Maybe she’ll drive you around the freeway on a summer weekend in the future.

She likes the way you include her, how you always include people to make sure they never feel lonely.

She begins to notice the way your smiles aren’t shy anymore, they’re genuine. She can feel the way you’re opening up to her, from the way you look at her in a way she doesn’t remember. You look at her like she feels like she’s the only girl you’re looking at. She sees how your eyes soften in your irises the more you listen to her speak.

-

Vada never thought she’d experience jealousy for the first time in her life.

Sure she’s felt it before, when her fists clench when she had gotten second place when she was younger. It was like an ember. But this time, it was much stronger.

It was during some school event her high school came up with, couples day or what not.

You sat next to Vada and Nick during lunch, Mia with her friend group usually at this time. You were huddled up to Vada, munching on some chips with your hair up. 

“Omph, I think jazz is better than rock honestly,” you say, muffled with chips in your mouth.

“Mmm, reasonable.”

After taking a long refreshing sip of water, you and Vada stand up.

“Nick, me and Y/N are gonna meet up Mia in the hallway, ‘kay? See you weirdo,” Vada walks along with you as you two laugh with each other over random gossip.

As you see Mia in the distance, wanting to wave her over, your friend Liam grabs you by the waist, his hands gentle, flowers in his hand.

You almost jump. You met Liam around the first week of school, he was sweet, gentle-man like. He offered to study with you in the library after school. 

“Y/N, hey,” he says, his voice like syrup. Too sweet for your liking, “Sorry for pulling you away. I just wanted to tell you something.”

You saw how Vada stood on the side, awkwardly, not to mention how she was glaring at Liam.

You turn back to the curled hair blonde in front of you, “That’s ‘kay, what is it?”

Liam hands you the flowers he was holding, leaving you, almost confused, your face heating up.

“Look, I know I didn’t know you for long, but you’re sweet, you know? No one ever has to talk bad about you and to be in this school as a person like that is rare. I kind of, you know, like you. You’re pretty, really smart, and have a personality of gold. I know you don’t really like me, but I’d like to know what you think.”

You stare at the flowers held in your hands, your hands feel clammy. 

“Liam.. This is really sweet. I appreciate.. You know, you thinking of me in that silver lighting. It honestly, in a sense, makes me feel proud. Thanks. I, I think I need some time, I never thought of you as the kind of person I’d be in a relationship with. But maybe with time if we get to know each other.. You know.. Gosh I’m sorry.” Your voice trails off, a tight smile on your lips, seeing the way Liam nodded immediately in understanding. You felt bad. Rejecting the sweetest boy you ever knew in this school, you just never saw him as something more than a brother.

“Don’t be sorry Y/N, that’s okay, I know what you mean, I just wanted to tell you before it got out of hand, but hey, now that I told you, as long as we stay friends that’s okay. That won’t change any friendship right?”

“I promise,” you assure, smiling a little.

Liam nods again, flowers in your hand as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans in to kiss your forehead.

He then walks away and you look down at the flowers in hand.

“Okay, that was cheesy as hell,” Vada says, her voice almost annoyed, maybe from waiting to see Liam’s monologue.

“I didn’t even know he felt that way about me.”

Vada rolls her eyes, “Of course you don’t,” you can’t help but feel almost hurt from her words. It’s like she was calling you oblivious, ignorant.

“Why would he even give you flowers? Gosh, he’s going wild for you, you barely even know him. He’s doing too much for someone like you right now,” she scoffed, slightly, not knowing why someone that you haven’t known for a while would give you flowers so early when you didn’t know him that well. But she worded it so wrongly.

Offended, almost wounded, insulted. Did Vada really think you were the kind of person no one would like? Did one of your closest friends find you in a sense, unlovable?

Vada saw the way your figure tensed, your eyes narrowing, before looking like they were about to cry.

Shit. 

God she’s never seen you cry before. Vada felt her heart almost shatter, seeing the way your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. She didn’t mean it in a rude way, god now that she thinks about it, that’s one of the rudest things she could say. 

She didn’t mean it, Vada doesn’t even know why she said it, maybe she just didn’t think Liam was right for you. 

She felt jealousy, and she could feel it herself. Maybe she wanted a sweet guy too.

Or maybe she just wanted you.

“God Y/N, I didn’t mean-” Vada reaches her hand to your shoulder and immediately you shrug it off. 

“You don’t think that I’m lovable enough to truly be loved, is that what it is Vada?” You say, your eyes sharp, “You don’t think I’m capable of deserve someone like Liam? How do you even see me?” You murmur, looking obviously, something Vada never wanted in the first place, in disbelief to even feel a tear slip down to your cheek.

“No, I swear I just-”

The bell had rang, and before she could try to apologize, and run after you, you squeezed into the crowd of people, heading for the class Vada knew was the only one you didn’t have with her.

Mia watched from a distance, seeing how tears poured from your eyes as you pushed through the crowds of people.

-

It’s tense, sort of, when Mia drives to her house.

You’re not talking to Vada, headphones are in, basically screaming that you’re closed off right now. Vada wants to talk to you, but she doesn’t know how to apologize for something she didn’t mean.

You look at the window outside and she feels like this might’ve gone back to stage one, it might take weeks for you to open up again.

But yet again, you’re Y/N, she knows you too well to know that you would never try to ignore her for that long.

Mia has to turn up the music again, something that hasn’t really happened for almost a few months, making small talk with Vada.

When you get to her house, Vada holds the door for you, you don’t look at her, just mumble a small, “thanks.”

“Shoot, sorry guys, if you guys are okay with staying here for half an hour or so, that’d be great. I completely forgot I had to stay after school and drop off one of my friends,” Mia immediately slaps her face, grabbing her bag for dance as she looks back, “Fridge is open if you guys want snacks, remote is in the cabinet under the couch, and all those joints ‘n stuff are in the back. K, love you, see ya,” Mia says, blowing a funny air kiss before shutting the door.

Now it’s awkward, out of all days of course Mia has a practice.

It’s quiet, your headphones are hung around your neck, kicking your feet against the carpet uncomfortably, you don’t know if you want to speak.

“Please, can you talk to me?” Vada pleads, making you almost flinch.

“I’m sorry for what I said today, I swear I didn’t mean it in a mean way towards you. I hope you know me well enough to know I would never mean it, okay? I was just getting a little upset over the fact guys would try asking girls out when they don’t know them that much, you know?.. Um.. Yeah. I guess I got a little overprotective. So I’m sorry. I hate when we don’t talk, it makes me feel like you hate me and stuff.”

You look at her, tugging your bottom lip between your lips, then you breathe, “I don’t hate you Vads. I promise. I just got a little taken aback and I honestly felt a little hurt from your words, especially since I knew you weren’t the kind of person to say those things in a mean manner. I forgive you. I really care about you, it was just weird today. I already felt bad rejecting a sweet boy I met and I wasn’t expecting to have my feelings hurt about it, I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I swear I didn’t, I just didn’t think Liam should’ve asked you so early, I didn’t even think you gave any signs.”

You giggle, making Vada’s shoulders relax from your icy facade beginning to melt, “You sound jealous.”

“Oh, nuh-uh.”

“Mm..” You mutter, not believing her, and making her groan. 

Vada quickly changes the topic, realizing how red her face was. 

“Do you wanna.. Um, go outside? Take a breather for a bit.”

“Okay.”

As you two close the sliding door, Vada sits down next to you, the silence is now comfortable. Her eyes begin to linger on the pack of cigars in front of her.

“I know you’re not the kind to smoke, but do you wanna share a blunt with me?” Vada asks, softly, it’s a question that you know if you say no, she’ll completely get it.

You hesitate, you never smoked before, let alone want to. But you look at Vada’s eyes and your head nods yes.

“Okay.”

You can see the excitement on her face, she makes a small squeal as she begins to roll the blunt, lighting it up with a lighter, you see her brush off some of the dust. 

She places her lips on the cigarette, inhaling softly, before exhaling the smoke and a plethora of smoky fog wafts around you.

Her soft eyebrows raise, her eyes flicking to the blunt and your eyes, offering it to you.

Vada hears you breathe, she can almost feel your breath on her face as you look at the cigarette.

“A little help here?” You ask, voice tiny, shy. 

“Okay baby,” Vada jokes, seeing the way your lips try not to smile, but fail miserably.

Vada scoots closer to you, so you two are huddled up and she takes your hand, “Okay, you always spin your led pencil in class, just hold the blunt similarly.” She feels the warmth of your hand and it makes her breath hitch. She puts the blunt between your index and middle finger, in which you make sure to hold with grip. Vada taps on your thumb, “Up,” her voice instructs, in which you support your thumb to hold it.

“Hey, now you got it!” she pats your shoulder, like a ‘yay’

She leans closer to you, your face is mere inches apart as she gently places the end of the cigarette in your mouth. Immediately the smoke fills your senses and you look at Vada, she coaxes you, “Inhale, not too much.” You inhale, wait for a moment, then exhale. 

“There you go, you’re making me feel like a teacher Y/N,” she clicks her tongue.

She sees the way you exhale through your mouth, and the smoke fades in front of her face, you take another hit, this time you’re full on staring at Vada, with your doe eyes deep into hers. 

The smoke wafts around her again, and when you pass it to her, you lean into her. Hearing how her breath hitches, your body pressed against her.

It goes like that for a while, puff, puff, pass. Where Vada offers the blunt to you, but instead of taking it with your finger, your lips part and your teeth nibble on the cigarette for a moment. 

It’s like a game. She doesn’t know if it’s the humor you’ve grown, or the teasing. The teasing. But the way you make eye contact with her while your lips capture the blunt you two have shared makes her stomach stir.

While you smoke and you feel the ease of tranquility wash over your senses, Vada grabs some munchies, cookies, some donuts Mia bought the other day, and some potato chips.

She can’t see you. But she knows you’re staring at her, she can feel the way she senses she’s being watched. 

You’re there, staring at her, looking down at her baggy clothing, then looking back up while she puts down the snacks. Your cheeks are flushed, you hear the way the music on your phone is beginning to fade, because you’re here, staring at her. 

You think you may have taken too many hits, it’s a different kind of high. You just want to take the potato chips and grow wings. Fly away from this place and go to Italy.

Vada notices, you look spaced out, but you’re staring at her. Not as captivated as you were once before, so she nudges you and you immediately look back up at her. She’s high, she sees a glint in your mesmerizing eyes. A glint that makes her want to pull you closer.

“I feel high,” you state, you don’t notice how you sound till your speech is slurred.

“I think we’ve caught on to that,” Vada laughs, with a roll of her eyes as you snack on potato chips.

“I feel like you're prettyyy Vadss.. Pretty dope and badass,” you say, your fingers showing a peace sign and Vada busts out laughing.

“You have some nasty high that makes you use my kind of slang huh Y/N?”

You’re staring again, except the only difference now is she can tell what kind of stare it is. And this time it makes her feel weird, she can’t put her finger on it.

“Oh yeah, uh huh, yeppers,” you murmur, munching on potato chips and throwing it across the outside couch you sat on, “Can we have a cheese pizza instead with tickling my pickling pickle?..”

Flying. You feel like you’re flying, breathing out and in that smoke. Vada feels like she should be laughing but by the time she feels that she already is.

The cigarette in your hand gets twisted and her footsteps on it, cracking it.

“Think that’s enough for today Y/N, you’re not speaking from the heart.”

“Pickles?”

“No.”

“Dill.”

“No pickles!”

“Yes pickl-No!!!-okay..”

Finally, Vada drags you inside Mia’s house, carrying you to the couch and tossing you on it.

“WeeeEeeEEeEEE,” you’re acting silly. Vada has never seen this care-free, childish side in you. 

“I think you’re gonna need to sleep this high off sleeping beauty.”

“I can’t sleeeeeep.”

“Well you need to sleep,” Vada forces, authority lacing her voice. You make a grumble. 

“Okay fine,” the small cushion on the couch shifts from you moving around so much. Vada watches you in the corner of your eye, finding it a little cute the way you are right now.

She was going to buy some dill pickles while you closed your eyes, but you seemed like you couldn’t, making Vada sigh and approach you.

“Scooch,” her voice rings in your ears, rubbing your hair softly as you make a tired, grumpy sound and scoot a little, your body wrapped into a marshmallowy blanket.

She doesn’t think she would do this, but if she can make you shut up a little bit, and feel your warmth, maybe it’ll be okay. The shorter brunette feels the way you curl into her body and melt like putty. She doesn’t think much of it, what you two are sharing right now.

Vada feels fond, to let you feel safe in her arms, is something she will always cherish.

Her voice hushes you, pressing her lips to your forehead, while you murmur about pickles. The whispers begin to die down, like the ending of a symphony. She cuddles you, you nudge your nose into her chest, “Don’t go Vads..” your voice is barely heard, but she can hear it, “Stay.”

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky,” her pinky raises up and interlocks with yours.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Now sleep angel,” her voice is teasing, but part of it she feels like you’ve grown on her, this childish side that she finds sweet.

You don’t respond, of course you don’t, because as soon as she looks down at you asleep on her chest. And by the time she can even process, Vada is asleep with you.

Mia comes home seeing you two sleep together, taking 5 photos and even having the time to take 2 polaroid pictures of you two wrapped into each other.

“Those two are going to be together soon.”

-

It’s the fourth time you’ve watched Shrek in film class. 4 damn times for 2 months.

Vada is starting to tick, you giggle at it. But she finds Shrek so iconic, she can’t bring herself to hate it. Well for now.

“I fucking feel like I can actually memorize each line by now,” she mutters, it makes you and Mia laugh even harder. 

“Why doesn’t Ms. Valentina choose the movies after that? It’s always just Shrek 1.” 

Vada doesn’t even know by now. 

The lights turn off, the only sunshine you can see is from the warmth of the sun that creeps into the blinds. The best part of having film in this period is that she always has it first on Fridays. Which means when the light switches turn off, it’s the queue where everyone pushes the desks and gets comfy, the desks stay on the side for the rest of the day.

After grunts and small clatter of water bottles falling down from people pushing the desks, everyone crawls to their spot in their own little friend group they have. 

Vada already has the couch in the back of the classroom reserved, she doesn’t give no shits, if she’ll fight for it she will. 

You find it a little funny, since you remember how people stopped trying to fight, she’s persistent. 

She pats the seat next to her and you sit next to her. Mia sits next to you. 

And for the rest of the period you three gossip, curl into each other, and chatter.

-

Once again, at the end of the school day, you, Vada, and Mia are laying together on the couch with several blankets and stuffed animals stacked on top of each other.

“Pass the popcorn please,” you nudge Mia, who’s holding the large popcorn box filled with buttery popcorn (that she kept when she ordered a jumbo sized popcorn box from the movies, that cost 10 damn dollars.) Mia passes it to Vada, which munches on a handful, then hands it to you. Of course with you ending up with some popcorn thrown into your hair.

You happy snack on the popcorn, munching and crunching. Vada and your hands dig into the bottom with the richer buttered popcorn. The brunette’s cheeks feel warm from feeling your hand. Maybe from the blanket. Maybe from the heat of the popcorn. Or maybe something else. 

Mia regrets asking Vada for a movie recommendation. As soon as she sees Vada search up ‘Sh’ on the search bar, she groans, seeing how Vada clicked Shrek. 

For the second, fucking, time, today.

As the movie begins to roll, the blonde whispers, “If I have children, I’m never gonna let them watch this. It’s been playing way more than enough and I am not risking having to play it every morning when I’m older.”

Vada snorts, “I’m going to tell your children that it’s a great movie, so great that they’ll play it morning and night.”

It goes like that for the next 30 minutes, you two are snug, with a fluffy weighted blanket draped over the three of you as the movie continues.

As the forty five minute mark surpasses, Vada is distracted in the movie. She’s seen it 4 times, yet she’s still watching it. She feels a faint pressure press against her shoulder, she brushes it off, she knows that it’s her brain signaling her to stop watching the movie.

She doesn’t.

But as the minutes pass, the pressure stays, if not stronger.

She feels curious, turning her head away from the projector to find you asleep peacefully on her shoulder. Vada’s eyes soften at the sight of your lips parted, gentle breaths blowing on her neck from your lips and the white of the blanket covering your chin. You’re asleep, and it brings her back to you two asleep on each other the other day. But this time it feels different. You two aren’t high.

You were curled up to her, with your legs tucked and faced to the edge of the couch. She’s seen you asleep before, when you were so tired one hung out that Mia lent you your room. Vada only peeked inside to see you asleep and still like a rock. You aren’t the kind to fall asleep easily, let alone snore. But Vada could hear a soft snore fall from your lips.

Vada can’t help it, but she feels a grin trying to form on her face, as you curl up to her, she tucks a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Now your hair is draped all over her shoulders, she sniffs it, nudging her nose to your hair. Your shampoo smells again like strawberries. 

Except this time it smells more intoxicating.

It smells so lightly sweet. But it makes her feel dizzy, her nose to the top of your head, relying on your scent to comfort her. 

You shift lightly, a soft murmur being made as your eyes slightly twitch, but fall asleep just as fast when she takes a strand of hair in her fingertips and curls it. 

As you're asleep and Vada is focused on you, Mia mumbles against her, quiet enough to not wake you. The TV was already loud enough, plus you were all the way in the corner.

“You like Y/N,” she says, and it wasn’t an opinion, it was a rhetorical statement.

Vada slows down with her fingers curling in your hair, turning to face Mia.

She feels a stutter get caught into her throat, “Uh, w-wait what?”

“You like Y/N,” she says again, her blue eyes looking at Vada, searching for an answer. An answer she already knew, she just needed to hear it from her.

“N-no, what? Mia, what makes you think that?”

It sounds stupid to the blonde, a small laugh coming from her, she speaks quieter so you can’t hear her, although you’re knocked off asleep.

“Well, to start off, since she stepped into our film class for the first day, you couldn’t stop staring at her Vads. And when I invited her so we could get to know her better, I’ve never seen you so quiet with someone until you met her. You’re always so open to meeting new people. At first, I thought you were nervous,” Mia laughs, finding it almost unbelievable when she says it out loud, “and never thought the Vada Cavell would be nervous to meet new people. But you look at her like the missing puzzle piece you’ve taken years to find. You look at her like she’s given you the light to your universe.”

Vada wants to roll her eyes, tell Mia how insane she is, she wants to throw her hands in the air. But she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to wake you up, she just wants to press her lips to your forehead and tell you that everything is okay when you wake up. 

But it all comes down at her at once. She can’t believe it herself. Well she knew she felt something. The the way she sees things now. Where she’d walk into a library filled with books and think, “Y/N would love it here.” Or when she’d smell the aroma in the air when Amelia and her mother would bake cookies together, and can’t help, but think about you. 

Mia herself has a guitar, and when there are days when you can’t make it, Vada spends two hours as her best friend talks to her to practice. So maybe one day, when she sees you pull out her guitar, she’ll say, “I can play it too.”

And when your pretty eyes already reveal the yearn you feel to hear her play, she’ll play all the songs that she’s practiced while she eagers you to cuddle up to her. Then you’ll realize they are all your favorite songs. Because Vada spent every two hours when you’re not there to practice for you. 

She hears Mia keep speaking, “You bring her up every time you can, okay? You’re reminded of her everywhere you go, and I’ve never seen you or her look at someone the way you do with each other. Remember that day you two first met? The whole car rode to seven eleven, you were staring at her staring at the window.”

“You’re falling for her day by day Vada,” Mia says, and the brunette can see the way Mia begins to smile, “You just don’t notice it until you realize how much she means to you. You used to refuse to take the extra guitar I had, but when you saw the way she played riffs, you took it and played songs that you knew one day you would want to play for her.”

Mia pauses, then speaks again, “You should’ve seen how shattered she was when you grew over protective of her and said some things that came out wrong. You didn’t see the way as soon as she left for 5th period she was going to cry. Come on, and you two fucking fell asleep with each other. It’s like I’m reading the slowest burn wattpad book in reality.”

The shorter girl is still stroking through your hair, as you’re asleep with soft snores coming out of your mouth every once in a while, still trying to process something she knew was true for a long time.

Vada doesn’t want to admit it, but she exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “I don’t know. I just feel really fond of her I guess. She’s grown really special to me and I think she’s someone I never knew I needed in my life. She’s there to you know, listen. Or be open to whatever..” Vada plays with the string of her oversized shorts while letting you nuzzle to her neck. “I guess she’s more important to me than I thought.”

Mia silently squeals, nudging Vada’s shoulder, “You can’t not convince me she likes you too, okay? Now you better fucking confess or I’m going to do a backflip and crack your neck open.”

-

Vada hasn’t felt nervous since she met you, but today she was nervous nervous. She bought sky blue, pink, ivory, and sweet apple tulips. 

It feels so cheesy, but she’s fucking here for it.

She prepares a basket with everything she knows about you, lego flowers, a cow stuffy with some random coquette bow attached to it, (that she may have not asked your older brother what animal you liked.) As soon as she shopped, the cute little cow with the laced bow wrapped around it was calling for her.

She fills the basket with kisses, tears off the most beautiful, raw pieces of poetry, she read and thought of you. She tears the extra copies of the songs she played on the guitar because of you, and adds it as scraps. 

And of course, she adds small fairy lights, then attaches all the photos she has with you. She has never been more thankful for Mia always taking 2 polaroids whenever you take one together, so she can keep one and add it to her memory book.

She’s anxious, picking at her fingers, it’s like when she first experienced the shooting. Except this is a hundred times worse.

Mia drops her off Saturday morning, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “The worst she can say is no,” and by the way Vada clenches the basket she has for you, Mia quickly adds, “Which is a .00001% chance. Trust me, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Vada rolls her eyes, clearly not helping easing her anxiety as she closes the door and approaches your door, knocking softly.

When it’s open, she’s greeted with the sight of a newly awoken you, looking sleepy, but she thinks it makes you even cuter.

You’re wearing the plaid pants she lent you, she remembers you couldn’t stop wearing it because it was so comfy. She let you have her extra fourth pair. She found it funny whenever she saw you waddling around in her oversized clothes.

“Mhh..” You keep rubbing your eyes, a yawn escaping out of you, “Vads it’s 8AM on a Saturday morning, what’s going o-” you finally open your eyes to have a nervous fidgety Vada with tulips, some Valentine's day throwup basket and a heart shaped balloon.

Vada takes a deep breath before pushing the tulips towards your way, “Okay, Y/N, I don’t know what to say. But I wanted to tell you for a while now. I notice the way I bring you up everyday, or how long my gaze lingers when you’re in the same room as me. Or how I find a way to bring our friendship up every second I can. I’ve grown the motivation to do the hobbies I’ve seen you once do. And.. I’m not the person to.. Get nervous when I meet people for the first time. But, you’ve been someone who I feel protective over, and you’re special to me in a way where you’re someone I didn’t ever think I needed in my life. But meeting you has really made you be the highlight of my day. I didn’t think it was possible to feel butterflies, let alone these fluttering sparks when you’re near. Or to realize the feelings I felt when Liam gave you flowers and wanted to ask you out was jealousy. It just feels right to have you with me, here. You’ve really distracted me from all the things I’ve found stressful, and no one has ever been able to do that. I didn’t even think it was possible. I-I don’t even know how, but it was like some invisible string tied us when I met you, but I’m so thankful you’re in my life. And it’s so weird to say this now..” 

Vada pauses, catching her breath and trying not to make eye contact with you, but she can see your cheeks getting rosy. Your hands are full with her flowers. You certainly don’t look awkward like you once did with Liam. More like, overly shy now. You’re blushing. And this time your hands don’t feel clammy. This time, you’re so desperate to feel her hands on your waist and have your hands tucked around her to hug her.

Vada gulps and blurts out almost too quickly to comprehend, “But I like you. Will you go out for dinner with me this Friday night? I get if you don’t feel the same, and I just want you to know I don’t want our friendship to be ruined at all but-”

“Vada, I’d love to go out with you.” You interrupt, wanting her to shut up and kiss you. To do all the sweet things you thought of when you smoked with her, to fly with her and carry her home.

“R-really? You’re not just saying that?”

“No. I think.. I don’t know, I think we’ve grown really really close, in a way where I never had someone that I could rely on so much. I really didn’t think meeting you could, you know, make my day a hundred times better, and I always felt confused with my feelings, you know? In a way where I feel like friends shouldn’t feel the sweet way I think about you?”

“Yeah..” Vada murmurs, “Yeah,” she says, more understanding.

She turns to you, you look like spring. The season, with your hands filled with flowers, your hair perfectly ruffled and your hair curling in your ends. Vada speaks again, “Do you want to give us a try? You know, I just don’t ever want us to not be friends one day because we didn’t work out.”

“Please,” you whisper, and when you say that she immediately pulls you in for a hug. 

This hug is just as comforting as all the other ones she’s given you in the past. But now, the thought of this hug being something more isn’t there anymore. Because it is something more. It makes you bury your nose into her chest.

Mia smiles in the distance, snapping a photo of you two hugging, “Those two love birds, I called it.”

-

Friday night

Here you are, in a black dress you remember you fell in love with when you went shopping. It was a simple dress where your shoulders were exposed, a laced neck and you put on some hoops. 

The dress was not too short, but it stopped a little before your knees. 

And of course, a string tying the prettiest bow on the back of your waist, you didn’t want to admit it, but you felt pretty when you looked at the mirror. 

Your mother dropped you off outside of the restaurant Vada reserved. 

She kisses your cheek goodbye, winking for good luck as you wave and watch her go. Now you kind of regret not bringing a jacket. You should’ve brought the leather one you were thinking about at the last minute, and decided not to.

Your headphones are plugged in, you’re 15 minutes early, and as the minutes tick, you feel colder from the sun beginning to set.

Cologne by beabadoobee is playing, you ruffle your curled hair, till you feel the music abruptly stop and your headphones being wrapped around your neck.

You can hear Vada’s voice, ruffling your hair, “Hi,” she says, not more awkward than you feel right now. You feel her gaze linger on your figure, and suddenly you feel hot, the cold you felt 5 minutes ago was completely gone. 

She rubs your shoulders, and you can tell what you’re wearing just made her fall much more for you.

What she’s wearing is not Vada. Not her basketball shorts and oversized tees. This is Vada, in all black with the lightest makeup, you can still see the freckles you love. Her hair is half up half down, and you brush her bangs to the side.

“Vads,” you breathe, and the way you call her that makes her heart pound ferociously, “You look pretty.”

“I tried my best, how do I look, silly pretty girl?” Vada twirls her dress, making you laugh.

“Like something Vada would never wear, but I love it.”

“You’re the one to talk, all soft and shy girl wearing something that I would definitely not stop staring at this whole evening. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, come on Y/N,” she tugs your wrist slightly, noticing how your wrists are decorated with the bracelets you two made together in the past. It makes her smile while she points at it, “Good decoration choice.”

“Only for the best.”

As you two enter the restaurant, you reach for Vada’s hand, she can see the way you’re searching for her. Like a puppy whining for its mother. She drifts her hand towards you and interlaces it with yours.

The place is dimly lit. The only light is from the sunsetty view and the fairy lights that are hung. 

It’s romantic.

And you feel all blushy, like some teenage girl in a friends to lovers book.

Vada feels the way you grasp onto her hands, your fingertips squeezing, she can already tell you’re nervous, she calms you down with a circle with her thumb on the back of your palm. 

You two sit next to each other, looking at the menu.

It’s getting a little cold, and you shift, “Okay, not to ruin the mood, but I have no clue what in the hell I should get,” Vada laughs, the Y/N humor she knew was clearly showing.

“What about we share some alfredo and their bread? Their bread is so filling and to die for.”

You nod, to go with the flow, “Okay Vads, whatever you think is good must be yummy.”

You two order and spend the time talking, by the next 15 minutes of waiting, you’re cuddled into her, playing with her hair.

“Hey, you’re messing my hair up silly.”

“I like playing with it. It’s very smooth!”

Vada presses her lips to your temple, rubbing your cheeks to make your blush more apparent.

“Stop that.”

“Well I think it’s cute when your face is all pink.”

You make a quiet whine, Vada still smells your toasted marshmallow and strawberry scent. The scent she could never get tired of. The intoxicating sweetness.

A few moments later with cuddles and talks, your food arrives and you share the noodles, digging in. Vada drapes your hair back so it won't fall into the sauce. As you eat and munch, Vada twirls the noodles on her fork and brings it to your lips, looking into your eyes. You look back up at her, feeling tiny as you open your mouth and she feeds you. You feed her back, letting her rub the small speck of sauce on your cheek with her thumb.

“Stop being so shy,” Vada whispers, nudging your nose to hers.

“I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before,” you whisper back.

“Well, it’s just me, nothings gonna change, I swear, maybe I’ll throw more pillows during pillow fights though,” she jokes, and that makes you nuzzle your nose more to hers.

You press your lips to her cheek and continue snacking on bread rolls and dessert.

-

“The stars are really bright today,” you say, your hand in Vadas as you two are staring at the scene above you, the sunset long gone and replaced with the light from the moon.

“Wellll, I think that just means that we’re amazing for each other, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“Nope, it’s a yes.”

“Yep.”

The heat you felt when you first saw Vada when your date began was gone, you were cold. No doubt did the girl not notice, seeing your slightly trembling figure. She drapes her leather jacket over you as you make a small noise of appreciation, sniffling your nose. The jacket immediately warms you up, you pull it to your shoulders more.

Her soft eyes look down at you, and she sees the way the stars reflect off your eyes, those eyes. She feels lucky to be able to be greeted by them every single day you’re around.

“Thank you for today,” you finally breathe, and Vada boops your nose.

“Well thank you for always being sweet and silly. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anyone else.”

You boop her nose back, sharing a slurpee that of course you got from seven eleven. It brings her deja vu. To remember how you first politely refused on buying a slurpee when you first met Vada. Then beginning to use the trick she taught you to poke your finger under the dispenser and lick your finger. Then buying your own small slurpee. Then to share it with one straw. 

As you two reach her house, she twirls you on the porch and lifts you up, making you squeal and giggle. It’s quiet, comfortable silence as she looks down at your lips. And she knows you want her too. Your legs wrap around her, and you lean and press your lips to hers. 

She feels sparks and a flock of butterflies stirring in your stomach when you’re around, but as she feels your soft, warmth of your lips on hers, she feels fireworks. Electricity shocking her whole body. She hears you make a soft moan of longing, something you wanted for so long. She wanted you for so long too. Her lips press against yours more, feeling your desperateness as she leans more pressure onto you. You taste like sweet strawberries, indulging on the way you make a noise of wanting more more more of her lips as her tongue runs over your bottom lip.

You both pull away, panting, cheeks flushed, your body feels like it’s flaming into oblivion, she grabs your waist tightly, then a small smile forms on both of your faces.

“I’m pretty sure you kiss during like.. Your fourth date.”

“Oh,” Vada says, faking to look sad before cracking up a grin, “Oh well, we’re too in love with each other and we broke that! Too bad, so sad.”

You giggle as she twirls you around and brings you into her room, kissing your neck along the way, she tosses you into the bed and you squeal, kicking your legs as she crawls next to you.

“Come here,” she whispers, you scoot closer to embrace and she wraps her arms around you, switching the fireplace on and playing some music in the background.

She spoons you, but you turn your front to be pressed to her chest, feeling her kisses on your neck and her fingers ghosting along your jawline.

“Pretty girl,” she coos, seeing the way you were a little tired, “Sleepy?”

“Yes.”

You bury your nose into her, her sweet, musky, coconut scent comforts you. The way your scent mixes and it just smells so… Your eyes are fluttering before you can come up with a thought. You stir in Vada’s arms, feeling her arms wrapped around your waist and your limbs tangled together.

“Don’t let go, stay,” you whisper, like you once did before in the past.

“I won’t, pinky promise, I’ll be here baby. Go to sleep, okay?”

You both begin to fall asleep, with polaroids hanging off you wrapped around vines around Vada’s bed. There was one with you two holding slushies and showing off your purple tongues, another one with you two in a group photo, one that Vada loved the most, where you two were cuddling. 

miaa: you owee meee omg u guys r adorable, update me tmmrw vads

Your pinkies interlock and your cuddle up to her. She can see the way your eyes twitch from closing. She knows you’re asleep when she hears your breathing begin to even out. And she definitely knows she’s your comfort, because a soft snore slips out of you no longer than 5 minutes later.

[twstfanblog]

Omg bro do you remember when you said azul was gonna write a horror story based on yuus period? Can i request that? His teacher is gonna read that shit and be like "how in earth did you come up with something like this? Its brilliant!" And azul is having war flashbacks to last month when he almost got murdered by his girlfriend cause they ran out of painkillers

Non-Fiction Fiction

Azul x OC (Yuu OC)

Triggers: Mentions of periods

A/N: LOL, guess who the teacher is twisted from

Professor Tatason very rarely kept any student back after class. The last person Azul knew of was from an old school rumor; a student had called the literature professor Ratason, as a joke.

The student was then never seen nor heard from again.

So, to say he was nervous was an understatement. Azul was sure he hadn't offended the rat mouse beastman teacher. But sitting opposite the almost unnaturally large man, Azul almost wished he had. At least then he'd know why the man was grinning at him so manically from behind his desk.

Slightly jaundiced eyes blinked into a more calm gaze, perfectly straight teeth just a shade off-colored from white on full display, "Mr. Ashengrotto...are you aware of why I've asked you to stay behind?" His 'R's rolled subtly, and unnecessarily.

"No, sir, I can't say I do..."

"..." The professor reached into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out and slapping a bound series of papers on the surface without breaking eye contact with Azul, "This. This is why I asked you to stay behind in class today."

The cover page of his short story greeted him. 'The Curse of Blood' he had titled it; his name and class placement printed out clear and bold below the underlined font. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Was there an issue with my essay, professor-"

"It was brilliant." The man's too-sharp front teeth clicked harshly on the 'T' of brilliant, smile just as wide as his eyes had returned. His fingernails tapped against the desk as he grew more excited, "The build-up of horror, the hopelessness of the protagonist as his love suffers before him. The sensual nature of the bleeding curse, the wild, almost primal actions of his lover as it worsens! BRILLIANT!"

Azul had to lean back, the larger man having slowly eased closer and closer over the desk as he recounted the story, "O-oh! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. It was quite the task to pen."

"That I can see!" The man laughed, falling back into his chair as it groaned under him. His demeanor had returned to calm, thumbing through the pages to read the story once more, "I will admit Mr. Ashengrotto, I was worried about you once I saw your name on my roster this year. A business sense you possess, but that does not translate into a competent fiction writer," Rude "You must tell me, what inspired you to write such a story?

...

Azul could only smile as he remembered almost a month ago when Yuu was bleeding on every sitable surface. The magicless mage glared into the open air with what he could only describe as murderous intent that grew with every passing second. Their demands of comfort foods and threats of violence that seemed to flip-flop at the drop of a hat. The dread he experienced learning it was going to repeat for the long foreseeable future.

"Oh...It came to me in a nightmare..."

"Well! For the sake of your grade, let's hope you have another!"

Oh, he most certainly will...

[nymphsconstancy]

in light of both the albedo-focused story and the upcoming hexenzirkel information: here's a compilation of everything (permanently and that i can remember) available about rhinedottir! and my conclusions as to what it means regarding rhinedottir herself

rhinedottir was one of five 'great sinners' of khaenri'ah, held responsible in teyvat for the course of the cataclysm. the sinners were unable to "resist the call of the abyss," and by accepting its power became "transcendent beings, each in possession of world-shattering power." (see memories that should not exist)

rhinedottir's creations include durin, the larger rifthounds, the wolflord, albedo, the "one-horned white horse" from cinnabar spindle, and the various 'subjects' that came as prototypes before him (confirmed to include subject 2 (shadows amidst snowstorms), and potentially more, depending on how literally you take the hexenzirkel cutscene). based on their mannerisms and descriptions of "mother," we can infer that elynas is also a creation of rhinedottir, but that hasn't explicitly been confirmed, so i'm not acknowledging them here.

rhinedottir did not create the smaller rifthounds. those were a pre-existing mainstay of crimson moon dynasty khaenri'ah (see perinheri, note 2: "the black wolves of the first edition [...] were a mainstay during the crimson moon dynasty"). riftborn regalia suggests that the larger wolves were made "almost as if by accident," rather than being intentional products of her work.

rhinedottir provided classifications for her work: "alfisol," comprising the rifthounds; "humus," comprising durin (and potentially elynas); and "cretaceus," or albedo. humus and alfisol are both categorisations of soil, while cretaceus is chalk and also features in albedo's constellation, 'princeps cretaceus'. early translations i saw of albedo's constellation took it to mean something like 'first creation' or chalk prince, but according to a latin class i took a year ago 'princeps' should actually mean 'highest order [of chalk, in this case].'

rhinedottir was either a member of the hexenzirkel prior to the cataclysm or joined the hexenzirkel immediately after. at the least, she had formally joined by 13 years after. jakob ingold's log in the book of revealing says "...it seems there was an alchemist from khaenri'ah named 'r' who joined a secret order" and, going by the internal narzissenkreuz timeline, the log was written at least 487 years ago.

other notes within the narzissenkreuz ordo imply that rhinedottir had also begun work on the primordial human project at this point. the notes in the basement - "yellow is simply bait" - refer to the same order of creation that albedo mentions in his ascension voicelines, while the notes at the top of the tower mention a primordial human: "lies beneath the great sea [...] [origin is a] play [is] called 'ajax', or 'aias' [...] which also means 'primordial human'." the idea of the primordial human recurs in albedo's fifth character story, where "chalk [...] was used to make primordial man."

the skyward weapon series, festering desire, and cinnabar spindle all make references to rhinedottir's creations. rhinedottir is mentioned directly in festering desire as durin's "mother" and is potentially the narrator of cinnabar spindle, but we do not know who made cinnabar spindle, formed from "materials that do not belong in this world." the only material named is alkahest, in the refinement process, which holds the ability to "sublimate matter."

rhinedottir took albedo with her while she was traveling, and albedo's earliest memories are of "adventuring deep within domains" alongside her. we do not know when albedo was made, and probably will not know, based on the fact that albedo himself is missing memories of his early years. albedo was not her last creation, and she continued to experiment with new life after he was made. (see character story 3)

while they traveled together, rhinedottir would make "threat[s] to leave [albedo], should he fail" in the tasks she set for him, threats which albedo saw as genuine.

the final domain albedo and rhinedottir explored together contained the "heart of naberius," an artifact with an as-yet unknown purpose. after its discovery, rhinedottir left albedo with his title as kreideprinz, a recommendation letter and instructions to seek out alice, and a copy of the "opus magum" from rhinedottir's collection of texts (see character story 4).

at an unknown time, rhinedottir met with the rest of the hexenzirkel to collaboratively write the little witch and the undying fire. rhinedottir wrote volume 3. contextualising notes, which can only be found by picking up another volume and then going to the archive, say the following: "it's so rare for r to be in her right mind for a spell. should she really be wasting the precious little lucid time she has writing this?" but what this means for rhinedottir herself is unknown.

what we know for certain: an abridged list of rhinedottir's creations, the circumstances behind her leaving albedo, and her role and time with the hexenzirkel. less concrete is her role and relation to her creations. she's written as both a cold, scientific mind interested in the results and data and nothing more, as a "mother" both grieving and responsible for the deaths of her children, and as someone absent in her affections but so present that all of her children are desperate for her approval, tacit or otherwise.

what's completely unknown: what the "one-horned white horse" is, what she's been doing the entire time she's been apart from albedo, whether she bears the same curse that other khaenri'ahn people do or whether as sinner she bore something unique to her alone, how the "call to the abyss" gave her more power, and what exactly the heart of naberius is.

rhinedottir is... such a fascinating, messy character. is she following the footsteps of the alchemists before her who made the first rifthounds? is she an expert all her own, the driving force behind khemia and the creation of artificial life through alchemy? does she truly love her creations, like she suggests in the hexenzirkel short from last windblume, or is she only the distant creator and teacher that we otherwise hear about? i'm fascinated. i can't wait to peek inside her mind

[shesmymorphine]

run.

♰ slasher!abby anderson x fem!reader.

thought i’d leave a little something here in the meantime i get my ellie fic finished and i know the slasher trope is so overused but this is based off of a dream i had a few nights ago. a little rushed towards the end but u get it.

content includes: modern!au, descriptions of m*rder, blood, heavy petting, fingering n oral (both r!receiving), abby is mean and scary, lowkey a stalker, ergo a local outcast, but reader is also kind of a loser too. kinda unrealistic ONLY BC IT WAS BASED OFF OF A DREAM I HAD!

nsfw under the cut minors please do not interact.

————————————————————————-

faster.

is the word you kept mentally repeating to yourself as you sprinted through the woods, barefoot, cold, and scared. you could hear her heavy footsteps hitting the ground behind you, getting closer. closer. closer.

the beginning was fairly simple. you were reluctantly dragged to a party with a group pf people you barely knew. it was an attempt to “get you to socialize”, they said. but all in all, you ended up sitting alone while the rest of them were laughing, drinking, and enjoying the fresh summer breeze at a cozy, isolated lake house. you should have known better, really. with all of the numerous homicide reports spiking within your county, it was almost inevitable that this would happen.

and it all happened so fast. you’d gone to the bathroom for what seemed like five minutes, before you heard the loud, banshee like screech of one of your friends echoing through the entire house. when you’d so stupidly exited out of the confines of the bathroom, your eyes flew wide open at the sight before you.

a grisly scene of all of your friends grotesquely killed, stab wounds and large gashes littering their bodies. blood was smeared on the walls, the furniture. almost everywhere you looked, you saw nothing but the deep crimson essence adorning the walls.

that’s when you saw her.

a tall, buff, terrifying woman, wearing what seemed to be a bloodied white muscle shirt, and equally bloodied jeans. her long, dirty blonde hair was sprawled along her back and broad shoulders, and she was clutching the shirt collar of a boy you didn’t even know the name of, pulling the axe out of his chest with a loud grunt. as soon as she heard you step down the stairs, she snapped her head back to look at you, axe securely clutched in one large, gloved hand while she dropped the boy to the ground.

you recognized her as abigail anderson. the girl who seemed to be outcasted and feared everywhere she went, almost always for no apparent or good reason. you’d seen her before, bearing that permanent scowl on her face and hanging around the library or in your shared classes, but you’d never once been put off by her. you remember talking to her one day while you were at the library searching for a certain book, and at first, abby was confused as to why someone as kind as you wasn’t afraid of someone like her; maybe, just maybe, you could understand her. see her for who she really was.

ever since then, she had her sights set out on you.

your heart began to beat a million miles per second, and you just… stood there. too paralyzed with fear to do anything as the warm tears prick your eyes.

abby cocks her head, giving you a conniving, almost evil grin as she recognizes you, which you take as her giving you a head start. it felt like forever before you sprinted down the stairs, and out of the backyard door, not even bothering to grab your shoes on the way out. you run towards the treeline, chest heaving as the adrenaline pumps and courses through your body. your feet begin to ache as you step on the jagged rocks and branches, but you knew that was the least of your worries.

abby soon charges after you, breathing hard and heavy as she keeps a steady pace behind you. your cries of terror only spur her on even more, which only makes her run all the more faster, her strong legs never faltering.

you’re quick to run in all kinds of different directions, hoping to god that you would eventually lose track of her. but it was never that way with abby. not at all. she was hot on your trail, careful to mimic each sharp turn you made through the dark forest.

the loud music blaring from the speakers could still be heard even as you ran deeper and deeper into the woods, almost like a taunt. you didn’t dare look behind you, but you’re not quite watching where you’re going, either. you’re much too distracted with how the sound of abby’s footsteps never seem to fall away, and your foot gets caught on a lifted tree root, which makes you collide with the hard forest floor beneath you.

shit. you think to yourself, the wind almost instantly being knocked out of you. it was hard to breathe, and you tried your hardest to get back up, to absolutely no avail. you look up at the sky above you, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you let out a strained sob. your ears began to ring as you rolled over onto your back, clutching and clawing at your own chest.

abby’s eyes fly open, and she stops in her tracks right in front of you, still clutching the axe within her hand. oh, this was precious, she thought.

you could hear her heavy, muffled breathing, and a loud, terrified scream leaves your throat as you hurriedly back up against a nearby tree. abby chuckles at the sight, and she grabs your arm with a rather excruciating grip, hauling you up against the large tree.

“gotcha.” she spits as she brings her other hand to hold the blade of the axe to your torso, which makes you scream and thrash against her even more violently.

the rancid stench of death soon fills your nostrils as she leans in even closer to you, pressing her nose against your cheek, and she keeps her lips close to your ear. abby then presses the blade deeper into your skin; not hard enough to break the supple barrier, but hard enough to make your consciousness falter.

“shut the fuck up.” she seethes rather harshly, and you unwillingly oblige. you’re visibly trembling beneath her, shaking your head, pleading and begging for her to spare you. your eyes continuously dart between the blood stained blade pressed firmly against your skin and her face, your hands shaky as you try your hardest to push her away from you.

of course, it’s no use. her large frame completely dwarfs yours in shadows, and you let your head fall back against the tree as you keep on sobbing.

“please, don’t… don’t kill me, i won’t tell anyone, abby, i swear, just please don’t fucking kill me.” you beg, the words coming out shaky and weak, which makes abby laugh into your ear. her breath is warm and wet against your skin, and it sends a wave of electricity down your spine.

she then suddenly stops for a moment, still breathing hard against the skin of your neck. you knew her name. the precious girl she’d always been after knew her name. it was the biggest sense of humanity that had ever befallen her, and she soon finds herself questioning what she had been doing all these years.

soon enough, abby snaps out of her confused train of thought, and pulls away to look at you. her cerulean eyes pierce into your own as she mocks your words with an undeniable coldness in her voice. your legs ached and trembled, and they would’ve given out on you had it not been for the sheer adrenaline still pumping through your system.

she moves to grab your face with one of her gloved hands, and she gives you that same, horrifying smile again. her eyes were low and narrowed as she began to speak again, “stupid girl. you really should have known better.” she coos at you, before she pulls the axe away from your stomach, hauling it back above your head before jamming it deep into the bark of tree with a grunt, missing your head by just a hairs breadth. sap begins to bleed around the blade, and it drips down to fall on one of your shoulders, which forces you to face the reality of the situation once more.

you let out a horrified sob as she does this, body still trembling beneath her inhumanly strong grip; but the way that she was breathing, the way that she was grunting as she held you firmly against the tree, and the harsh rasp of her smooth voice… it sent a wave of arousal coursing through you. this woman had just butchered the people you were with, and could very easily lead you down that same path; but as soon as she saw your face flush red as you began to writhe against her, it was almost as if a switch had flipped in her brain.

abby scoffs and shakes her head, hurriedly pulling off one of her gloves with her teeth before spitting it off to the ground. with one large, free hand, she takes both of your wrists, pinning them above your head before she messily shoves the other one down your shorts. your hips begin to buck at her touch as she begins to harshly rub at your clit, and abby’s breath comes out shaky when she feels your pooled up slick coating her fingers. “really? you’re fucking getting off on this?” she asks, and you whine, shaking your head at her proffer. your body, though, has a much different reaction.

you keep on moaning for her, completely going against your best interests. her fingers were thick and long, and you really couldn’t help but chase that senseless feeling of alleviation. she then slowly but surely eases one of her fingers inside your achy hole, and you continue to try and break free from her strong grip, in order to grasp at her shoulders, her hair, anything.

“s’fucking tight. such a needy slut.” abby scolds you, and you bite down hard on your lower lip as she seemingly expertly curls her digit up against your sweet spot. you keep your head firmly planted against the tree behind you. you roll your hips against the palm of her hand, eyes rolling towards the back of your skull as you grind your swollen bead against the calloused part of her hand.

you look up to meet her gaze again, chest fluttering when you see her staring back. abby’s brows were furrowed, and pieces of her hair stuck to her face with sweat. you study the bridge of her freckled nose, and the way that her pretty pink lips curved downwards. your eyes fell to her large, blood stained muscular arms, and her long, murky blonde hair cascading down her strong, broad shoulders. you hurriedly take in each one of her features, and a huge wave of confusion washes over you.

how could anyone have ever been afraid of her?

abby begins to feel the unfamiliar pang of her own stomach beginning to flutter as you continued to gaze at her, and she furrows her brows even more. no one had ever looked at her like that before. “the fuck are you staring at?” she seethes, and she shoves another finger inside of you.

your eyes go wide and your cunt flutters at the sudden intrusion, which draws a loud cry from your lips. your face continues to burn with embarrassment, and abby continues to breathe heavily as she bangs her fingertips up against your g spot. she groans when she feels your warm, gummy walls tightening around her fingers.

“abby… abby, s’too much..” you hiccup, and abby scoffs again, tugging you forward by your wrists. but with each time her name falls from your lips, the feeling bottoms out at her own cunt. “oh, it’s too much? that’s too bad. stop fuckin’… squirming. you should learn to be more grateful.” her voice is hoarse and mean, so mean. but you try your hardest to stop squirming, arching your back off of the tree and standing on your tip toes as abby continues to fuck you.

your eyes fall shut as you feel her leaning into you again, her hair gently falling over your chest as she buries her face within the crook of your neck. she smells of dirt and sweat, and her skin was warm to the touch. abby soon drags her lips along the valley between your jaw and neck, which only heightens your senses. she notices this, taking it upon herself to gently nip at the exposed skin.

you begin to desperately rock your hips against her palm, the inevitable and uncontrollable feel of your orgasm beginning to pool up at the bottom of your stomach. abby clicks her teeth at this, dragging her ministrations to a stop. you whine and let yourself slump back against the tree, still moving your hips around in slow circles all while her fingers are still buried inside of you.

“please… abby, please. i…” you stop yourself before you can say anything else, making sure to keep direct eye contact with her. your chest heaves and you let out a soft whine, and abby’s lips twitch in response. you find your gaze darting from her stare to her lips, and you whine as you begin to rock your hips again. she slowly, almost unknowingly leans in until you’re nose to nose, and she curls her fingers up inside you one last time. a quiet whine leaves your throat, and it’s clear she’s lost in the moment, you both are, completely forgetting about any previous circumstances regarding anything else that’s happened tonight.

“i need you.” your voice is so small, but so clear. just when you’re about to press your lips to hers, she pulls away to look at you for a second, her expression curled up into a hateful, almost disgusted sneer, but once your words register in her brain, it falters a little bit.

no one had ever needed her before; how foolish little abby was.

abby slowly pulls her hand out from your shorts to rest on your hip, and her breath begins to hitch as she suddenly drops to her knees before you. your wrists are now free from her crushing grip, but you don’t dare to move, or run. you were in too deep, and so was abby. you both knew that at this point.

your stomach flutters as she looks up at you, her eyes low and narrowed. abby pulls off her other glove with her hand, before she can move to hastily pull your shorts off of your hips. you let her, moving to entwine a hand in her hair. abby carefully leans in a little closer to your clothed cunt, before she presses her nose into your clothed mound, shutting her eyes and inhaling your musky scent.

she gently nudges your clit with her nose, before she slowly darts her tongue out to lap at your clothed slit, hoisting one of your thighs up over one of her shoulders. you shut your eyes at the feeling, the back of your head hitting the hard bark of the tree for what seems like the millionth time tonight.

you groan, slowly beginning to roll your hips against her face, which makes her bring one large hand up to grope at the fat of your ass. abby lets her eyelids flutter shut as she continues to grunt and lap at your cunt, and she slowly pulls away from you to gently grab at the hem of your panties with her teeth. your eyes are hazy and your body feels weak when you feel her start to pull them down, and you let out a quiet gasp when the cool night air hits your now exposed sex.

abby stares in awe once she sees just how wet you are, pulling your glistening folds apart to watch your slick drip down the insides of your thighs. you look away in embarrassment as she does this, and abby can feel her own mouth beginning to water at the sight before her. she didn’t even know she could have an effect like this on someone.

“fuck… look at that.” she begins, running her fingers over your now budded clit, gently massaging your soft bundle of nerves. she chuckles when she feels your arousal beginning to coat her fingers again, and she moves to spread your legs just a little wider. your hands are instinctively moving to rake themselves through her hair, and you can feel her hot breath panning over your swollen folds, which makes you inch yourself just a little closer to her lips.

abby obliges, licking a long, unhurried stripe from your hole to your clit, which makes you buck your hips against her mouth. you grip her hair a little harder as she moves to gently suck on your clit, only spurring her on even more.

“oh… fuck, that’s so good, abby. so good.” you gasp out into the air, no one else listening but abby and the trees surrounding you. she grunts at your praise, letting that all too unfamiliar feeling of her stomach fluttering consume her whole. she continues to slowly lap at your swollen, achy cunt before slowly moving her hands up your thighs to grab a hold of your hips.

you cry out for her, and for her only. your soft oh my god’s and babbled words of appraisal as she continues to make a mess out of your poor pussy, they’re all for her. abby couldn’t count how many times she’d envisioned this while fucking herself late at night in her bed, and now that she’d finally had you, she’d be sure to never let you go.

you look down to see your chest heaving and abby’s pretty face nestled comfortably in your now soaked thatch of curls, and the sight makes your legs go even weaker. your heart races even faster in your chest as you clutch at her hair, moving one free hand to grope at the fat of your own tit to manage the feeling of her tongue prodding at your entrance.

abby notices how you’ve began to grind your pussy even harder against her tongue, and she slides a free hand down from your hip to find post on your inner thigh, inching dangerously close to your slicked entrance. you welcome her touch, still tugging and pulling at her blonde locks, shutting your eyes as she continues to flatten her tongue out against your clit.

abby loves the way you taste; too forgiving and saccharine against her chapped lips. she laps up all of your sweet juices, eating you out like a woman starved. your breath begins to hitch as she starts to suck harshly, all while swirling her warm, wet tongue along the underside of your pussy. abby pulls your hips even further into her face by grabbing at your ass, and she pushes her spit back up against your messy, pulsating cunt.

the feeling is so fucking vulgar, but it feels so fucking good. you’re sure to let her know it, letting out mixes of cries and moans combined together, babbling her name and clawing at her scalp. abby moans up into your cunt each time you harshly yank at her hair, the pain going straight down to her own, neglected pussy. that tight feeling in your abdomen grows stronger and stronger with each time abby sucks and licks, and abby loves how desperate you’re becoming. all because of her.

“shit… i’m gonna cum, abby… gonna cum…” you warn, voice breaking when you say her name. abby doesn’t respond, though. she only slightly picks up her pace, and if it weren’t for her strong grip holding your legs firmly in place, you’re certain your knees would have buckled and given out on you. all it takes is one lick and a single kiss to your clit for you to finally unravel into her mouth, and you violently grip at her hair once more. abby’s breath falls heavy, and she soon plunges her fingers inside of you to fuck you through your orgasm, and a loud, strained cry leaves your throat at the added overstimulation.

“s’fucking pretty.” abby mutters under her breath as you continue to become undone on her fingers, and when you look down to see her face, your own flushes a deep shade of red. her nose and lips are coated in your juices, and they glisten underneath the bright glow of the moon behind the trees. as vulgar as the sight below you is, she looks so beautiful. neither of you say anything, and all you can do is move to cup her face with one of your palms when she finally stands back up. abby flinches at first, but she reluctantly leans into your touch, her breath faltering as the soft skin of your palm comes into contact with her cheek.

the silence is absolutely deafening. her eyes continue to bore holes into your own as she opens her mouth to say something, anything, but she can only exhale. “abby…” you begin, but you’re conveniently interrupted by the loud blare of police sirens heading towards the lake house, and abby sinks her head down, pulling herself away from you completely. “shit…” she mutters as the red and blue lights flash over her face, and she grabs her axe from the tree, quickly scooping her gloves off of the forest floor.

you can feel that familiar sense of panic sinking into your chest once more, and she quickly helps tug your panties and shorts back on. your heart flips at the sudden kind gesture, and before abby can take off running into the darkness of the forest, she presses her lips to your ear again. “meet me at the library next saturday.” is all she says, before she quickly takes off into the darkness behind her, leaving you alone against the tree. her footsteps begin to fade away, and instead of a horrid sense of panic, you’re filled with a newfound sense of… relief? you slump back against the tree, knitting your brows as you hear the policemen getting closer to you, the glare from their flashlights nearly blinding you.

abby knew that this wasn’t the last she’d be hearing from you. it was far from it. she could still taste you on her tongue as she ran back to her cabin, the image of your flushed face never leaving her mind.

[ganglygamer]

Happy LNDC anniversary everyone! Yes I know I'm like 5 days late but this took a bit longer than expected. Nonetheless this was really insightful practice with the new tablet and I'm honestly impressed with how well I was able to shade it.

Flat colors and base below -

Some of these designs are more headcanon-y and to accompany that I've made a little list of some headcanon/backstory to go with each character. Enjoy!

(Going from top left to bottom right)

Gus

Age 11

Comes from a wealthier middle-class family from the Counties; Is a bit spoiled. 

Is also rather sheltered and naive, was easily lured into the Nowhere after only like 3 visits. 

A newer arrival to the Nowhere; Went to the school because it reminded him of being a “star pupil” back home. 

Definitely went to the same school as Noone and has heard of her through gossip with other kids and on TV, though he never partook in any actual bullying of her. 

The Ferryman took Gus on a day trip to the Fun Fair from LN3 at least once, which was part of what finally lured him into the Nowhere. 

Sebbo

Age 9

Another CPI patient with nightmare disorders, like Noone. 

Was always distrustful of the doctors and made frequent escape attempts, though she was always unsuccessful.  

Is extremely good at lockpicking/knot tying because of her efforts. 

The Ferryman offered to take her to the Nowhere to get her away from the doctors, and ofc the LN2 Hospital is where she first woke up. 

The Doctor™ would perform experiments with the transmission on captured children in an attempt to assimilate them into the Fleshvoid. This is because only adults seemed to be assimilated, and the Doctor used these experiments to see whether child assimilation was even possible, and if so whether it depended on the child’s level of determination/willpower; This is why the Doctor imprisoned Sebbo and gave her spoons to try tunneling her way out. 

Fortunately Sebbo was able to escape from the Doctor and is one of the many children responsible for the vents/crawl spaces of the Hospital having signs of habitation. Other children however were less fortunate, and were left horribly disfigured as a result of the Doctor’s failed experiments. 

The Ghost Child

Age 9

A shy and poor boy from the Counties who came to the Nowhere simply to escape his outside pressures and ended up in the Pale City. At this point he was called Oliv. 

While in the city he ended up in the seemingly empty barber shop and tried to steal some wrapped mints from the countertop; When the Barber found Oliv he attacked him with his scissors and cut off his right arm. 

Oliv escaped and migrated to the apartments at the heart of the city due to the abundance of food there. 

After being attacked he became even more reclusive and distrusting of humans; For this reason and because of his disfigurement he made his signature costume out of some scraps of bedsheet and became known as The Ghost Child. 

He began using everyday vermin like rats, moths and crows as substitute company and built an entire collection of them as seen in Chapter 4; He also lived a short distance away in that room with the mattress and blocked windows next to the elevator. 

The Vagrant Boy

Age 6 (because contrary to everyone calling him the Toddler, I refuse to believe he would be able to run and scavenge so well if he was literally goo goo gaga age)

Was born mostly blind aside from being able to make out vague colors and shapes (which is why in the comic he started taking off his blindfold when he heard the TV). 

Needless to say his caregivers didn’t care much for a “blind useless baby” and he was largely neglected, meaning he taught himself to function without sight from an incredibly early age. 

Much like Noone and her water sickness, TVB found himself not weighed down by his blindness while in the Nowhere, which is why he allowed himself to cross over, finding himself more at home surrounded by the sounds and touch of nature rather than the harsh reality of the counties. 

Never really learned to speak or dress himself due to his age and neglect. 

Coby

Age 9

Orphan from the poorest section of the Counties; Crossed into the Nowhere for those exact same reasons. 

Eventually wound up in an abandoned building in or near the Pale City that was inhabited by other orphans, where they lived in a sort of community until Mono showed up, bringing the Thinman with him. 

Due to malnutrition he is smaller and scrawnier than most other kids, and his clothes are also more damaged and ill-fitting. 

Sou

Age 10

Went to the same school as Noone before being put into a more prestigious child academy elsewhere in the Counties. 

Grew up in a wealthier household that put an immense pressure on her to excel in both academic and outdoor activities; Her desire to escape this is what prompted her to cross over into the Nowhere. 

Sou ended up in the Pale City and sought refuge in the School since it was a familiar sight to her. While there she was captured by the Bullies and tied up in their torture room, where she lost her shoes (which can be seen there in-game) and was beaten severely. 

Being familiar with knots and such she was eventually able to get free and used a bedsheet rope to escape the School, then used the door from the building next to the coastline to cross the bay(?) to the Wilderness before eventually being captured by the Hunter. 

Her mismatched outfit is a result of her scavenging items from other victims of the Hunter, like boots to cover her feet and a certain yellow hat to protect her from the rain. 

Mono

Age 10

Grew up poor and was forced to wear a lot of oversized hand-me-down clothing growing up. 

Because of this he was constantly made fun of at school, and as a result adopted a habit of using his lunch bag to cover his face. Eventually he was unable to deal with the constant harassment and was convinced to cross into the Nowhere. 

Where he got his powers from is unclear, but its similarity to the Thinman’s is enough to drive most other children away, making him just as isolated here as he was in the Counties. 

Also, contrary to his canon design I actually like him having his coat mostly or fully buttoned, at least until he first uses the TVs in chapter 4, at which point he opens it up to represent his newfound courage. 

Six

Age 9

Her past remains steeped in mystery, and that’s something I don’t really want to change in case Bandai ends up revealing her existing backstory for us (ie, confirming that Sisi as Six, as horrible as that idea sounds).

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I wrote a little fic about Pete's grieving process.

Feel free to leave a comment (even if you read it here vvv)

Peter Spankoffski was a pretty happy person, all things considered. Sure, he used to get picked on at school, but that was all water under the bridge. 

He must’ve been very lonely back then, back before he became friends with Steph, Jason and Brenda. But he was happy with his new friends. His mom had signed him up for a tap class to make friends, but it didn't work. 

Apparently some kids were going missing. Pete didn’t know very much about it, just that two of his classmates were murdered. And that was pretty much it. He felt bad for never knowing them. It sounded like they were nerds like him too. It’s a shame they were never friends. 

Steph talks like she knew them. Like she planned some elaborate heist with them. And that just makes Pete feel even worse sometimes. Whenever he says that he didn’t know them, but he’s sorry for the family’s loss, Steph would get this look on her face. Sadness? Pity? Guilt? It was hard to say. 

But they were moving on. Pete was helping her move on. She didn’t know them too well either it sounded like, based on the way she talked about them. Just that they were close before the murders. Pete didn’t even have that. 

Before recently, he’d never even heard about them. But apparently it’d happened weeks ago, inside the school! Or, at least, that was one of the rumours. 

There was a rumour going around that the two victims were in love, or maybe they were both in love with this third missing person, Max Jagerman. Everyone said the name like it was poison, but Pete was lucky enough to never have known him. He didn’t know if either of those rumours were true, but maybe the first one was. They did seem to be friends at least, from what he’d heard. One of them, according to Steph, was even in a tap class. He wondered if it was the same as his. 

He would’ve liked to have gotten to know them. He heard one of them was an anime nerd, and he’d liked some anime in his day. The other was a theatre kid and movie buff, and Pete could definitely get behind that.

He liked watching films with his parents. Classics like Star Wars and Indiana Jones were his favourite, but they’d watched all the way back to things like Moulin Rouge, and of course Wizard of Oz. 

They’d even let him watch Rocky Horror Picture Show, even though it was rated R. Must be one of those only-children perks he hears all about. 

Pete had always been an only child, as far as he knew. Though, strangely, his parents would never say it. Whenever asked about it, they’d simply tear up and change the subject. How strange that was. 

Steph was weird about that one too, but there was no way she knew anything Pete didn’t. It was his own family. Though, perhaps she knew whose pictures were on the wall. There were many scattered around the house of who, by all things considered, was a stranger to Pete. Though, he did kind of look like the homeless guy from downtown. Maybe they were related somehow.

Wait, would that make him distantly related to him too?

Eh, no matter. He couldn’t worry about that right now. Apparently some kids went missing at his school. He’d have to ask about that some time. He hadn’t heard about it, so maybe it was a myth, and it must’ve happened so long ago.

[bakugokemkatsuki]

Tamaki Amajiki X (GN) Reader :

**Genre: Fluff?? **Word Count: 647 **Warning(s): cussing, some inappropriate remarks, use of c^nt once, cringy, NOT proofread, thought of this at 2 am **Key: R/N- Random Name, R/N/F- Random Name’s Friend, Y/N- Your Name **Note: Y/n gender is not specified/ GN for anyone

Background: You and Tamaki have been dating for a few months and have been friends since middle school. No one knows you two are together. Nejire and Mirio know Tamaki is seeing someone but respects his privacy and your friends don’t know you’re seeing anyone. You are a first year in this. Everyone knows you two are close friends but no one thinks it could be anything more. This does have things that don’t follow the timeline/plot line exact and yes this is partially based on that one scene in Victorious. NOW onto the story!

The festival of the year was here. The weather was perfect, the light breeze carrying the sounds of laughter and joy through the air. Everyone was at the U.A. Festival. One of the third year classes had put on a dance for their activity. Everyone was dancing having a good time. At least it seemed that way, over near the side by some tables were the big three. They were all talking, when two girls came up to them. “Hey it’s Tamaki, right? We’re in the same year! I’m (R/N) and this is (R/N/F).” Tamaki was very flustered and taken aback by the attention. “h..hi, nice to meet you two.” With this Mirio decided to pipe in, “I’m Mirio and this is Nejire. We’re Tamaki’s best friends. It’s a pleasure to meet you guys.” “We know you two, we came here to talk to Tamaki” (R/F/N) snootily responded. After that conversation continued mostly (R/N) flirting and (R/F/N) edging them on. Tamaki was getting very uncomfortable. Across the room, you were dancing and having fun with your friends when you caught sight of Tamaki looking like he’s about to be sick. You quickly tell your friends you’ll be back and start making your way over to everyone. As you approach you hear (R/N) say, “so you’re quick, you use tentacles a lot, I wonder what else those tentacles can do”. “Um, excuse me. He has a girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other .” [Nejire] “I don’t see her/him/them” [R/N] Hearing this you storm up behind R/N not even caring that you just knocked about twenty people over on your way. R/N turns to look you up and down after you tap them on the shoulder. “Now you see her/him/them” “Well I don’t see much”[R/N]. At this point the music is off and the room is quiet all attention on you and R/N. “Leave my BOYFRIEND alone.” “And what if I don’t? I mean he can do so much better than some puny first year like yourself. He’d mush rather have an older more experie….” Before R/N could finish their sentence you decked them in the face. “What the hell is wrong with you! Sexualizing him when it’s clearly making him uncomfortable and disrespecting our relationship on top of that. Stay the HELL away from my boyfriend, got it c^nt” R/N and their friend quickly ran off. “Wow that was nice of you to cover for Tamaki, pretending to be his girlfriend/ boyfriend/ significant other. You’re a good friend y/n.” Hearing yourself referred to as a good friend by Mirio really hurt but you simply nod and walk back to your friends. You’re about half way back when you feel someone grab your arm and spin you around, before you can process what is happening lips are on yours. You immediately recognize them as Tamaki’s. Kissing him back you, he quickly pulls away, “..um thanks.. for that and um sorry for not telling everyone about us sooner.. I just I really.. um…” “I know you hate all the attention. No worries. And I’m glad everyone knows now.” Everyone around you two were cheering and tamaki confessed for the first time… “ I love you (y/n)” stunned you stare at him for a moment before simply replying “I love you too Tamaki” and pulling him into another quick kiss.

Sorry this was cringy and horrible writing this was done at 2am and is my first Fanfic type thing!! Requests are open if anyone is interested!! And thank you for reading!!

[owlhead650]

Actually another one: if you know about DND, what classes would your oc be? - R

Here's my oc Asopo as a Sea Elf Storm Sorcerer. His whole family would be sea elves I think. So Atlanta would be a deep sea fighter, maybe his mum Loraine would be a magewright or witch? She'd continue to work at a school. In Hyburna she was the one who taught Asopo the basics of pokemon battle, but in DnD pokemon don't exist. I think instead Loraine would have some arcane knowledge that she would use to teach Asopo how to control his sorcerer powers. Asopo's Dad Alon would still be a fisher who collects fish to eat, but he'd change his methods if he were a sea elf.

As for Asopo's friend Zorina? I think that she would be a human Rogue that Asopo meets on some journey to the surface world.

Of course I have way more thoughts about rejuvenation Asopo in DnD, mainly because I've thought of a dnd AU for Rejuvenation. Here's the list:

Melia - Aasimarr Light Domain Cleric who believes she's praying to the god of light and goodness, only the truth is that her god has been replaced by a much more sinister force that's manipulating her and all its other followers.

Erin - Tiefling Pact of the Fiend Warlock. Her patron is a morally neutral fiend that kind of looks like Absol. As part of her pact Erin needs to go around stopping some disasters or important events her patron doesn't want to see happen. Despite how altruistic it seems on the surface, Erin suspects that her patron is picking and choosing what to prevent based on some greater plan...

Venam - A Human Rogue. She's the least blatantly special of the rejuvenation cast and she steals tesla's charizard and is generally a bit of a trouble maker. Melia x Venam is still a thing in this DnD AU.

Ren - Just human fighter. Maybe a warforged if this is Eberron. But yeah his character arc wouldn't need to change much. I'm thinking that Madame X is the dark lord in this AU anyway. So he temporarily joins the bad guys, you know the story.

Kanon - Servant Wizard. The Servant lore in rejuvenation is interesting enough as is, he should just stay as one in this AU. His character arc wouldn't need to change much but he would be more useful in combat thanks to actually being a wizard and not just dressing like one.

Aelita - Maybe Eladrin Monk. Eladrin's are like elves but they change form with the seasons, not the actual world's seasons more like a metaphorical season. She learns to become a martial artist in Sheridan and she goes through a few season changes throughout the story.

Amber - Bard. Not sure which college of bard, I'm not sure about the subclasses for all of the characters but having amber be a rockstar bard is easy. Also human. I think the whole gearen fire trio are just humans.

Saki - Human Artificier. You wouldn't even need to change anything about how she already is. It would just be Saki and she would work in this setting. Okay maybe she'd need to be more tough but y'know what I'm saying.

Nim - Human Sorcerer. She's a storm sorcerer like Asopo, but in a different way.

[xarrixii]

F/B Chapter_40 : "New Friends"

CW: none this time around that I can think of

previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

/ / / / / | ---

I’ll think about it.

Urban had hesitated⸺hesitated hard. They knew what that meant. It meant No, but I don’t want to say no exactly. It meant letting Alph down slowly. It meant a long time of convincing and a lot of work.

At least he’d kept in touch.

Alph’s phone use was monitored because of one of Storm’s newcomer policies, but that didn’t mean they weren’t allowed to text their best friend random memes. Or talk about a Flash Fire update Alph had tragically missed. Storm seemed to endorse it, actually.

They had to convince Urban. Even if that meant a lot of slow guiding.

Alph opened the door to the small training room in the little base Storm had for recruitment officers and people new to Storm. Two people were sparring on the blue mat.

Of which looked ripped to shreds.

One of the people sparring was obviously the one doing most of the fighting. And damaging. Weak fire was melting down equally weak-looking ice each time it pinned the guy to the mat by the clothes.

The real difference was precision.

Alph watched from the sideline, wrapping their hands and watching melted ice pick up and reform, aiming down again with its fine point at the edge and hitting the pyrokinetic’s shirt, or pants, to get melted and thrown back into the interesting, yet still boring crossfire.

“You think you could do better?” the HY-AY called from the lowered sparring area as the pyrokinetic laid down and surrendered.

It took Alph a moment to realize that they were the one being asked. “I’m more of a close combat guy,” they said slowly. Memories of getting their shit rocked by that crazy electrokinetic fucker flashed through their brain. What’d he say his name was? Rage-bait?

“I see, they hired a coward. Afyer, is this really what your team’s been up to?”

Alph flushed. “I am not⸺”

“A coward’s words,” the one laying on the floor, Afyer, agreed.

The HY-AY raised an eyebrow as Alph finished wrapping their hands. “You even got a kinetic, coward?”

“It’s Raiden,” Alph huffed. “And⸺”

Afyer shot off the floor. “Oh, you’re Raiden! I’ve been waiting to meet you, Storm says you’re very promising and worth investing in.” He quickly climbed his way back out of the mat area and held out a hand for Alph to shake. “Salutations, my name is Afyer. Oh! Uh—he/him. And that’s Mark, he’s also new. He’s also he/him. We’re both he/him. Hi.”

Alph felt Mark staring deeply at them. “Uh, I go with they/them.”

“Brilliant. You’re, pyrokinetic, right? Amaterasu’s kid?” Not like Alph wanted to be the one that came out of their mother, but...

“Yeah.”

Mark snorted. Afyer glared at him.

Afyer leaned in, “He’s pretty good. I think you’ll both be fully integrated into Storm in a week or two.”

“You’re not very quiet,” Mark said impatiently.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spar? It could be a good opportunity.” Afyer nodded excitedly, stepping back to find his water bottle on one of the benches. “You’re legally an A-class, right?”

Mark shakes his head, as though this wasn’t surprising somehow like it normally was. “Do you just, spy on everyone’s files?”

“It’s my job to know who you are,” Afyer replies.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“So,” Alph butts in, “Again. Close combat kind of guy. Sorry to ruin your fantasy.”

“You can summon fire with your mind, though. You can summon it anywhere you can reasonably justify using energy to. But you’re close quarters?” Mark starts deforming the shards of ice, fantastically small amounts of water retracting from each into what seemed even more fantastically small of a water canister along his belt.

This felt vaguely like an attack. “That doesn’t mean it’s logical for me to in every scenario. It’s, a lot of brainpower.”

Mark just shrugged, climbing off of the now-wrecked mat with the kind of ease Alph expected from someone who was used to uneven ground. “Whatever. You ever want to get your ass kicked, I’m in room 352.”

next chapter | masterlist

taglist: @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

/ / / / / | ---

missing a content warning? let me know

[the-badger-mole]

The Romance is Dead

I've always had an issue with Romeo and Juliet as a love story. Don't get me wrong, I love a good "starcrossed lovers" romance as much as the next obsessive fangirl, but R&J never really made sense to me as a romance. The more I learn about the story, the more I realize, duh! Of course it's not a great romance story. it's a tragedy. It's right there in the title, Badger! I know, and smarter people than me have pointed all of this out already, but for my entire life every treatment of this story has been presented as if it were the height of romance. Especially if it's a reinterpretation. Most retellings of the story miss the point, though. By a lot. A LOT.

Here's the thing...Juliet was really young. She was 13. That went over my head for a long time, but the mention of her age in the play was deliberate. Shakespeare makes it a point to tell us, the audience, how young Juliet is, which I don't believe he does for characters in his other plays (but don't quote me). In fact, I think Juliet is the only one given a specific age in this play. Juliet's father says in the play that he thinks she's too young to marry and thinks she should at least get a say in who she marries (at least until Tybalt dies and he decides that marrying a man twice her age is the cure to her grief. The crap???). Juliet's nurse has a whole monologue about Juliet's age.

The reason I think this went over my head for so long is that I didn't have the historical context. None of my literature or theater classes spent much, if any time on the historical context of Shakespeare's plays, and I'm just now starting to realize how much that has affected how I, and I guess the average Hollywood writer understand the story. There's this idea that people- girls, mostly- were married extremely young all the time in Ye Olden Days of Yore. What I learned years too late for it to make a difference to my grade is while it was legal for girls around that time to be married as young as 12, it wasn't as common as we modern day people seem to think (or in the case of several states, as common as they hoped). Which is why when Juliet's mother comes to talk to her about the marriage proposal Paris (who was probably at least 25, based on his being Italian) presented to Lord Capulet, Juliet says she hasn't even thought about getting married.

The people Shakespeare actually wrote the story for would have had all that extra context and would have understood why Shakespeare took extra special care to make sure they knew exactly how old Juliet was. They would have had the context to really grasp the tragedy of Juliet's story (and it is now clear to me that this was very much Juliet's story). Me, a sap who grew up with romantic retellings, and the Claire Danes version of the original play, didn't have all that context when it mattered, so now that I do have the context, I want to make it everyone's problem share what I've learned with you, my friends. If you're still in school, and they still aren't giving deeper historical context behind this particular play, just know, Romeo and Juliet isn't a romantic story of true love. If this story wasn't a tragedy, Juliet probably wouldn't have married Romeo at all.

[dangelqueentmnt16]

Hat box ghost x autistic reader 💕

Based a real story from my dear friend with autism! 

My name is Y/N I'm 18 and I live in Louisiana, in an old mansion. I'm walking home after school, you see people are ignorant asshols! I was in class today talking to my bff. We were walking down the hall to lunch.I was talking about my favorite game plants vs zombies! The lore is actually very coated and detailed! But suddenly my stupid classmates intruded in our conversation! "Hey Y/N, how's it going!?" They taunted me, my bff scrunched her nose in annoyance. "Go away, I'm not dealing with your shit today Claire!" I snapped at her. But little did I notice the air horn Maggie had in her hand, suddenly she blaired it in my right ear! Scarring me shitless, my bff saw me collapse and cover my ears on the floor. She snarled at the tow twits, and began yelling at them, but all I could hear was ringing… my hands and body felt shaky…. My voice began to stutter in mumbles and sounds without illegible words. My bff saw this and knew that moving me would only over stimulate me more! But she sat with me for the whole hour, even though the teacher eventually made us go back to class…

You see, I have autism, and I'm very known for being overstimulated easily in school. Due to the one year I had an attack during a fire drill! You see, sudden loud noises tend to make me over-stimulate… and my classmates think I'm faking it or I'm just crazy! The only real friend I have is my bff, who has OCD! To say the least, the rest of the day was hell! I was fumbling over myself, and put myself into my drawing trying to keep calm. It didn't really help much, but my teachers were understanding. but mostly I just wanted to go home! 

I'm now on my way home walking down the dirt road, the air is crisp and cool. Autumn is in motion and the air feels free with lively energy! As I walk down the lane to the front of the house, i noticed my parents cars weren't in the driveway. Mom must be at work, and dad is probably getting groceries. I walk up the steps to meet the door, inserting the key and turning it with a click. I push the door open with a eary creek, and close it behind me trapping the cool air outside! "HELLO, IM HOOOOME!!!" I yell out to the house my voice, bouncing off the walls. There was no answer, so I sighed and turned to the kitchen tossing my coat off on the kitchen table. I go for the  cabinet, and grab the hot coco mix. I then put some water in the electric kettle, and set it to warm up "tisk tissue tissue, young lady put your jacket away!" I smile softly, but not much. I didn't feel great today… I turn to the direction of the voice, "hi hatty!" Before my eyes he materialized. There stood my favorite ghost with a goofy grin and hatbox in hand. He looked up at me with a smile, but it fell quickly " my dear, why do your eyes seem so sad?" I sighed a beep echoed in the room, I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured the warm water in the mug. Mixing in the hot cocoa packet, I took my first sip and let the flavor take me away from my sorrows… "Y/N?" Hatty asked again and I sighed, placing my cup down on the counter. "Claire and Maggie blew a blow horn in my ear and I got over-stimulated at lunch time.." I silently confessed. His eyes widened, and his face grew with some anger. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry Y/N!" He came over to you scooping you in a cold embrace, you let the tears fall and cried into his chest. He held you like the moment he let go you'd disappear, little did I know he was plotting a great revenge! CLAIRE AND NAGGIE WILL PAY!!" The rest of the night you two spent your time in your room on your bed, cuddling watching markiplier get scared shitless from fnaf jump scares!

Part 2 eventually. I'm very busy with packing "my boyfriend & his fam r moving", and studying the G.E.D. so srry but I promise part 2 will come soon luv yall 🤗💕

[ellipse-society]

whats ur job like? is it tough/hard (especially as someone who also has mental health issues, but like.... who doesnt XD)? what drew u to psychology/working in a clinic? is a psych bachelers worth it in ur opinion? (or at least worth witnessing the annoying ppl u might meet in college...) what did u do for ur bachelers degree? :-D

(my eyesight is kinda blurry rn sorry if any of these r wrong/feel free to skip or avoid any of these at all :'D i hope u have a good day!!!)

Well our job is client centered so each day can vary drastically as far as how hard it is. Some days five clients are in crisis simultaneously and others we only have maybe one or two of our easiest clients scheduled. Though the work schedule is also flexible which is a perk. They basically do not care when you are there as long as you have 40 hours by the end of the week. When talking to clients we(as in everyone at the company) basically just refers to ourselves as caseworkers(we have a fancier title but it seems to only be used by our company so we would prefer not to share it publicly) even though most at the company don't see that as 100% accurate it's just the easiest way to describe it. It isn't the perfect job but we get to work in a field we enjoy and get to make a difference in people's lives so it is fulfilling for us. Basically the job is working with lower income people with mental disabilities(almost always SUD but commonly also GAD, MDD, PTSD, and Schizophrenia/schizoeffective with a few other disorders here and there on a less frequent basis) and providing them with coping skills and access to resources in the community for basic needs like food, housing, work, access to medication, ect. Our goal is to help the client improve enough that they can be independent and graduate from services. We also regularly meet clients out in the community instead of at the clinic so a lot of driving is also involved which is sometimes good sometimes annoying depending on the area of town.

I don't think our mental health has really negatively effected us at our job. It has been a jumping off point for building rapport more than once though so it may be more of a positive. We have had more than one client relieved that we are autistic because either they have the disorder or know someone with the disorder and like that there is a level of understanding there.

I mean we were drawn to psychology due to our own mental health struggles and those of our family(also maybe a bit of autistic special interest lol). We have always wanted a job where we can help others and we were basically unprofessional councilors for our family and friends long before we had our psychology degree. It is just something we naturally do. We also switched majors in college(from secondary education theater and speech) and our general psychology teacher was one of our favorites. She made the topic interesting. When we were switching majors we took a bunch of classes in different fields we were interested in for a semester and psychology was the one that stood out again. We did a project on parenting styles in that class that made us realize a lot about our childhood and better come to terms with it.

I mean whether or not a psych bachelor's is worth it is based on what you want to do. There are many psychology jobs that are gatekept behind graduate school so you may not be able to get the perfect job with just a bachelor's. That being said most fields are looking for someone educated in psychology. It can definitely look better on an application than some other degrees as far as applying for jobs not directly related to the field. We had to go to one of our schools job fairs once(in a gym so sensory overload to the max) and almost every table called us over due to us majoring in psychology while we were avoiding as many people as possible while they were not doing that for people from some other majors that were more active about looking. It is basically a desirable major for many employers but getting an actual psychology focused job that accepts just a bachelor's may be hard to find.

We aren't sure what you mean by what we did for our bachelor's degree so if you want to send in another ask about that if we answer it in a way you didn't intend it to be answered feel free. Our school was very research based as far as how it taught psychology. Basically junior and senior year every student was required to run one study(junior year as a group and senior year solo) and a lot of general psych classes required study participation and other classes often provided extra credit so that people could get their participants. The solo one we did senior year was full of technical difficulties and the results would never be applied anywhere by any logical person so we don't tend to talk about that one but the one we did junior year we loved and it got us second place in our category when we presented it at our schools recheach symposium(and we were in the same category as the person who won best overall). Basically we were looking at how word bolding and amount of time with a piece of text affected memory. We found that(obviously) the more time someone had with the text the better it was remembered but the cool thing we found was that while if a word relevant to the memory quiz was bolded it improved performance there was no significant difference between the control and those that had irrelevant/distractor words bolded. Basically even if you were to bold the wrong words you aren't hindering ones retention so bolding words could only have a positive not a negative effect per our results. A lot of teachers were really interested in our results on that one and we are proud of it. Though not the most proud of our research paper on it because English has always been where we struggle most lol.

Oh and thank you for the questions. Hope you have a good day too.

[horizon-verizon]

Hi, I recently found you're blog and have grown quite addicted to it lol. I've also been looking at both team's posts to try and get a broader understanding at everyone's mindset and, if I'm going to be honest, feel very exhausted from it.

I'm a firm believer that stan culture is toxic and this fandom is no different, but I've actually found an interesting pattern when it comes to posts from both stans in this fandom specifically and wondered if you noticed the same thing. Team Black stans are more likely to be aggressive and continue on an argument, but the information they argue tends to be more accurate actually. Team Green stans still argue, less overall, but their arguments aren't built completely on actual facts on the show (which is also the only source they base arguments off of) they use far more speculation and are driven more by their own individual feelings. Some examples are that I've seen: TB arguments saying that calling Rhaenyra's boys bastards is a very dangerous claim that can lead to real, dangerous consequences, which is completely true, but then TG have laid out an argument comparing Rhaenyra to Cersei on the hypothetical that her children would r*ape women in order to try and make Alicent seem like a better person, which is a scenario we all know is completely made up and pure speculation based on nothing but opinion. Black stans are more likely to accept the faults of their favorite characters, or at least come out and say they don't care, while Green stans will defend every action of the people on their team even when they probably shouldn't. Like, do they know it's ok to like flawed characters? I've also seen TG stans attack show Rhaenyra for every single action she's done and I've seen TB stans do it for characters like Alicent too, but it's just overall less?

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's hard to take any argument from Team Green stans seriously. What's also shocking is how many notes some of these arguments have even though a lot of them spread false information or just make things up. Now of course, there's false information going on both sides, I know that, but on here it's just so concentrated onto the TG side and I just think that takes away from really getting a good grasp and understanding on that version of events.

What's your opinion on this?

Firstly, thank you for following me thus far and I'm glad you enjoy my posts! Sometimes I feel like I'm not really getting my pts across well enough and I try to improve.

Secondly, from my time in the online fandom -- I wanna say from Oct of last year? -- yes, I agree with your assessments. Quickly, before I go on, I tend to be more team Black (as one can see from my profile pics here and on Twitter) and specifically, I am a Dany/Targ/Rhaenyra/Rhaenys I-Visenya stan. So one may argue or dismiss me as having way too much bias towards how black stans vs green stans tend to argue.

However, in all my time (half a year, so not much) I've reblogged and been reblogged at least 30 posts, entering debates about how Fire and Blood/HotD are written, who wrote them, why certain ships exist, etc. Most of the time, green stans & HotD!Alicent stans argue from a place of traditionalism and reactive emotionality because they have learned that the anti-autonomist ideologies against women, lower-classed people, gender-nonconforming people, darker-skinned people/PoCs, and foreigners because those formulas are ready-made and are status quo to organizing and seeing gender, race, sexuality, etc. They do not have to think any more than emotionally react to what they already know is both "sad" but "must be", no noticing irony or strange details that might point out how the text may be making fun of a character or how absurd they think for thinking and doing a certain thing when they already decided to stan.

Both sides do this (me, I didn't really over much over Daeron's sins until HotD and thought him even "good"), but green stans really don't bother to work at observing language or/and context or/and text -> how those relate and interplay to create meaning(s) in the story. One time, you hear how F&B is unreliable--which it is but not in the degree and way they describe it and leave readers to think--and that the HotD writers are doing so well at rewriting Alicent away from the evil stepmother trope, then another time they will applaud Alicent for trying to mutilate a young boy...ironically something many evil stepmothers or women of that archetype have performed evil against children they perceive as threats or competition to themselves and/or their own kids in fairytales. Or they will ignore completely how Alicent knows how horrible childbirth can go from having 4 kids of her own yet deciding to have Rhaenyra's newly born sons paraded around on their way to "be presented" to show how "obvious" a bastard they are, gain public support, and/by humiliating Rhaenyra and demeaning her political stance in subtly exposing her "whoredom". And then choose to ignore how Alicent herself practices disturbing, anti-autonomous sexual exchanges when she uses her feet for Larys to give her info--this would absolutely get her labeled as a "whore" by many others in her society AND not relate how that compulsion to sacrifice sexual autonomy mirrors Rhaenyra's not wanting children out of fear of death or being put out of the "room" of decisions where she's been outcasted from her whole life, yet having to marry to even have the beginning of access to that power and continuing to have it as a woman. (Forgot to mention, these are HotD's characters, not F&B's.)

You will hear green stans say that it is Westerosi society's culture--therefore unquestionable "right"--to have only men and boys automatically inherit higher, directive political power over any available or smarter/better-equipped girl or woman. And some will claim and suggest that it is for the sake of ORDER and harmony. Part of the idea is that if you maintain the ORDER, there will be a social balance between classes, genders, etc. that would ensure much less bloodshed or people hurting each other (ironically, something that existed as proto-thought since the real medieval era during European feudalism -> c.400 A.D. -1400s A.D.), and you see that thought solidified into something like what Thomas Hobbes wrote in his Leviathan, which argued for people giving their obedience and allegiances to a sovereign entity unaccountable to the ruled's as equally, or at all. Pro-Monarchist, pro-stratified hierarchy. 

In other words, hierarchies in general and their extremes of them that veer the most away from the truest, ideal democracy (where the government must adhere to and exist as the people direct and structure it) work to suppress as much an affirmative negation as possible, which inevitability also means critical thinking. Not just the skills, but thinking deeper than what's presented to us in the first place because once you start to do this you are already putting the bones, so to say, in question, when you ask how an untouchable really came to be so untouchable and how God would just leave an infant to die when a grown nobleman voluntarily goes after a literal 11-year-old.

Because human societies have been essentially training people since infancy to accept what status quo is available, all fans in the fandom are passionately inquisitive and/or territorial.

*Small Rant*

Stan culture is very saturated in dismissals and outright bullying for the most meager things, and that is because people go online to:

outpace their own loneliness and/or commiserate over oppressions, annoyances, what have you

celebrate with others over how much they love a certain creation, esp when they do not have anyone, enough real-life, persons, or are bullied and put down for liking that thing

are torn down in real life and wish to get back power by ruining others' days

reaffirm their own biases that make them feel in control

share their creations so that they have some sort of validation that they create some sort of good thing, whether just a pleasurable object (entertainment/beauty) or something of salubrious moral character that brings perspective, or BOTH

In other words, there are so many high feelings most of the time when we log in, the good and the bad and the somewhere in between that are nonetheless complex and sometimes powerful. And we push them here in fanart, metas, debates, fanfics, and we seek other minds and perspectives to bounce our ideas off, show off, or peek for assurance and validation, sometimes all of the above. On the one hand, I don't always care what Uriahdeeznutzgotee from the UK thinks of how my grammar when I speak about my love for Rhaenyra, but I do and will always care about how Uriahdeeznutzgotee decides to imply I am stupid for not agreeing with his ideas about women in relation to himself, politics, the genre of epic fantasy, publishing houses, etc. Because these are the structures I both take a break from it being online sometimes while most of the time I take a break from facing head-on to actually reflect through fiction, which I go online then to break down for others and myself to further appreciate. So it can eventually bother me when Uriahdeeznutzgotee uses ad hominems to discourage others' thoughts or even misreads and misinforms (purposefully or not) others that fiction piece that has helped me in some way to contextualize the real world. Some trolls know it too, dammit. And when attempt to actually argue but the other side persists (esp with quotes), they tend to stop and block to save some face. Or, they may do as I did and stop, blocking for what is whatever peace of mind can be had after leaving the last argument that they want to give.

While fiction is fiction and the characters cannot reach out to bite us, their actions and their worlds are always sprinkled with a specific set of rules inspired by the real world and thus we're always going to emotionally engage with the fiction. Another reason why I find most team neutrals to lie to themselves but that's another thing altogether.

High emotions and passion = higher chance of crazy behavior. And I think fandom, but esp stan culture, will always have questionable patterns and behaviors. But I also think that without these spaces, a lot of people will silently suffer more and be even dumber than they already could be.

*End of Small Rant*

This doesn't mean that, as you mentioned, there aren't any black stans that are not compassionate or maybe want to be but do not know how to quite get there without giving up the peace that just going online to gush about Matt Smith's banging cheekbones gives them. Same goes for Olivia Smith/Ewan and some green stans (concerning the only going online to gush). But, it is also true that I am far more likely to come across a worse argument from a green stan than a black stan about gender, ethnic, etc. politics in the ASoIaF universe which is more likely to suggest how they go out in the real world treating others.