#i want to bite and chew him. 👍

[charliedawn]

Hi! Could I request a Five hargreeves fluff of any kind, I just watched season 4 of umbrella academy and I wanted a litte Five fluff.☺️

(Here you go ! Hope you’ll like it ! 😁👍)

Five had been cooped up in his office for days—barely eating to survive as he desperately tried to find a way to save the world and his family. His head was overwhelmed and he hadn’t slept in more than 24 hours. He was exhausted, frustrated and angry at himself for not finding some answer or equation to make it all better. He stared at all the papers with all the notes and calculations he had written down. He stared at them and felt the anger bubbling up inside him…until it burst.

He suddenly screamed in rage and threw all the papers on his desk to the floor.

"Why can’t I get it ?! Why can’t I find anything ?!"

He slumped down on his chair and raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to teleport away—far away. But he knew that no matter how far he went, he couldn’t escape. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling…How could he save the world when he couldn’t even find the answer to a simple equation. No matter how many times he replayed the multiple endings in his history, he couldn’t save the world without…

He closed his eyes and was on the verge of tears.

…without sacrificing one of his siblings.

He would have happily sacrificed himself but then, there would be no way to ensure results. To make sure the end of the world never came. He then thought about Sir Hargreeves. The old man who had decided to put them all in this tricky mess and bail on them. That…coward. He felt more anger and resentment towards the old man. Anger and resentment he wanted to get rid of by punching or killing somebody. He was about to do just that when he saw someone standing in his office.

Y/N.

What were you doing here ?

"Get out, Y/N. Now, is not the time." He tried to dismiss you, but you didn’t move. You simply took a few steps towards him—a box in your hands. He ignored the box and just started glaring at you.

"Didn’t you hear me ?! I said—!"

"I heard you." You replied and Five blinked twice in astonishment. He then sighed and forced himself to smile.

"Fine. What can I do for you, Y/N ?" He asked with a sarcastic grin on his face. You looked at him and could tell that something was wrong and instead of answering, you approached even closer and put the box of cookies on his desk. He frowned and took one before looking back up at you with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

"Really ? Cookies ?"

You smiled and shrugged.

"I needed someone to taste them. Make sure they are good."

Five rolled his eyes.

"Y/N. Your power is to heal people with your cooking. Of course it is good, you literally cannot bake ANYTHING bad."

You kept your smile and shrugged again.

"Who knows ? Maybe you will find the taste different this time ?"

He kept himself from rolling his eyes a second time and just took a bite—knowing that it was the only way for you to scurry off and leave him to his mumbling and brooding.

"See ? Like I said, perf—." He started, but suddenly paused.

He chewed. He paused. He chewed again.

He frowned a little before licking his lips—his brow furrowed in concentration. He took a second bite. A third.

Then, when the cookie was gone, he looked at you. He was obviously puzzled.

"This…wasn’t one of your healing cookies." He finally said.

You grinned and nodded.

"You’re right. I tried a new recipe. You like it ?"

Five stared at you before taking a second.

"It’s…fine. I guess…"

He took a third.

And a fourth.

And a fifth.

And in a matter of minutes, all the cookies were gone.

He stared at the empty box and his heart suddenly felt…lighter. He sighed contentedly and leaned back in his chair—his eyes slowly closing. It felt like the days of baited exhaustion were finally taking their toll on him. You smiled and covered him with a blanket.

You took the empty box…looks like the new recipe was a success.

You smiled to yourself. You were about to leave when you suddenly felt someone grab your arm from behind and before you knew it—the empty box was on the floor and Five had his arms around you.

"…Thank you." He mumbled sleepily.

You were momentarily stunned before smiling and turning around to hug Five back.

"No problem."

You then stayed in each other’s arms until you both fell asleep. You didn’t need words to calm down Five, you had only ever been kind and patient with him. You took care of each other and that was perhaps the reason he trusted you so much. Because he knew that whatever happened, you would be there to hold him and reassure him that everything would be alright.

[jisokai]

Green Curse

Your friends care about you, much more than you think. Unfortunately it takes the worst possible first time trying weed for you to realize it.

kirishima eijirou & sero hanta x GN reader 10.9k words | oneshot, complete, can be standalone

implied first/second years, drug use (edibles), reader is anxious and an overthinker, descriptions of dissociation, slight suicidal ideation, touch-starved reader, implied smaller reader, lots of hurt and lots of comfort

part 3 of a sort-of-series: "healing my inner teenager" (this fic's reader is NOT compatible with reader in the universe of [part 1] and [part 2])

ao3 option

notes: I feel like a lot of fics with substances never touch on these kinds of experiences (& if they do it's for humor instead of processing) so this one's for ME & anyone else with arguably traumatic first times smoking/taking edibles 👍

Kaminari’s room is boisterous as your friends settle on his bed to cozy up for the evening. You sit quietly on his carpet, back pressed against the mattress behind you. Your fingers brush through the soft fibers, tracing its dark pattern as you listen in to the various conversations around you—Mina and Kirishima curiously taking guesses at how it’ll feel to get high, Bakugou grumbling about being the babysitter, Sero and Jirou arguing over what movie they want to watch. You don’t make an effort to engage, even when you feel an opening, instead flitting your eyes between the different spots where people have congregated. You notice that nobody tries to pull you in.

It’s a delicate dance for you, being in this group. They welcome you easily, always happy to have you around, but you aren’t sure why. You don’t talk much, not unless asked, and even then you instantly regret answering—assuming you said too much or the wrong thing. Sometimes Kaminari finds an opening for a joke in your response, and the laughs that course through the others make you feel very, very small.

You confided in Kirishima once, during internship patrols—likely the reason you started getting invites in the first place. His bright attitude brings you ease, knowing he only thinks well of others, and his encouraging personality is a relief to the delicate glass of your self-esteem. You hadn’t meant for it, but the conversation somehow found you unfurling your insecurities. He looked at you sadly when you explained how the larger friend group puts you on edge, makes you hyper aware of yourself and your shortcomings. You’ve spent the past few weeks carefully skirting around him and the topic, incapable of handling more pitiful gazes.

You ignore him now, too, as you feel his eyes from where he’s seated with Mina on the bed. You focus your attention on Kaminari's shelves, observing the collections of hats and shoes. It’s a tacky space, you think, but the array of jarring colors and patterns make sense somehow.

You are jolted from your thoughts when said tacky host appears in front of you. He’s crouched with half a brownie in his hand, outstretched to you.

“Want first bite?” he asks. You nod and thank him quietly as you pinch the sides of the dessert, avoiding the brush of fingers. He continues. “It’s only half, since it’s your first time. You can have some more later if you don’t feel anything.”

He stands to offer brownies to those on the bed. You sniff yours carefully and notice that it’s unassuming, even when you take a bite and slowly chew.

“How’s it taste?” Mina asks from above you. You crane your neck to see where she sits beside Kirishima, who’s tearing a brownie in half for them to share.

You cover your mouth as you speak, feeling the gooeyness cling to your teeth. The chocolate is dark and there are chunks of fudge, a favorite of yours. “Normal. Good.”

Mina grins excitedly in response and eats her half in one go, straight from Kirishima’s hand. She hums in agreement. “Ooooh, they’re delicious!”

Kaminari nods proudly. “I only source the best, y’know!”

You finish your half shortly and glance towards the others. You hear Sero ask about the dosage and strain, and watch as he and Jirou both eat a whole brownie, then split an additional one. Kaminari downs one happily and removes another before closing the bag. You wonder if this is routine for them, and suddenly you are too aware of your inexperience. A course of shame rolls from your stomach to your shoulders, a choppy ocean wave. Once again you feel small—a speck of dust on the carpet. You think it’s silly, to be ashamed for not indulging in substances, but these are your cool friends that you don’t want to be lame around, at least not more than you already are.

You want to curl into yourself, a ball of arms around legs, but a tap on your head shakes you from your spiral. It’s Mina, pouting from above.

“Whatcha still doing down there?” She asks. You see the others piled on Kaminari’s bed—all but the blond himself, grabbing a deck of cards from the shelf.

“Sitting,” you say blankly.

She rolls her eyes and gives your shirt a tug, then pats the space next to her. “Sit here!” she instructs. Kirishima nods in your peripheral.

So you stand, just enough to get your hands and knees on the bed, and crawl next to her by the headboard. You avoid touching the pillows, and pull your knees tightly into your chest. Kaminari follows, plopping next to you. He’s cross-legged, knee bumping into your calf, and you tense at the contact. He doesn’t notice, busy shuffling the cards. Some of the others move, adjusting to make an evenly spaced circle of people. Mina shifts away from you and you scoot in the same direction, giving Kaminari additional room.

The game passes energetically, with loud reactions as some of your friends target one another. You’re not very competitive, but strategizing helps you focus on something other than your discomfort. 

After a few rounds, Sero checks in. “How are you all feeling? It’s been about a half hour.”

Mina grins lazily beside you. “M��definitely feeling something.”

She turns to you and you shake your head. You feel normal. Or, your normal.

Kaminari hmph’s and looks to Kirishima. “What about you man?”

The redhead scratches his head and purses his lips. “Maybe?”

Kaminari hops off the bed and reaches for the bag on his desk. He pulls out another brownie and tears it in half. You take the one he hands you, slightly smaller than the other. You glance at Sero and Jirou while you chew, trying to decipher if either of them are affected. Jirou notices your stare and shakes her head.

“Takes me a while to feel it,” she explains. “But I’ll be faded in a couple hours. Sero’s the opposite.” You note his already red-tinted eyes.

“Skill issue,” he says. Kaminari nods solemnly.

Jirou rolls her eyes. “That doesn't even make sense.”

You look away, chest heavy as their banter draws on. You wish you were close like that, with any of them. They’re familiar and comfortable in each other’s space. You may have catalyzed a potential closeness with Kirishima, when you unpromptedly spilled out your insecurities regarding his friends. But all that resulted in was a weird tension that hangs between you two—one entirely due to your own embarrassment. What is wrong with you?

You accidentally look his way and see the slightest crease of his brow, his eyes trained on you. You glance past him and to Mina, then the cards sprawled in the middle of the bed.

“Let’s just watch the movie,” you hear Sero say. “It’ll definitely kick in after a couple hours.”

A wave of hums passes through the air as everyone agrees. Kaminari stands to turn on his desktop while Sero moves to switch off the lights. The room darkens save for the glow of the computer, Kaminari searching for the movie in question. The others shift, getting comfortable for the hours to come. You turn so your back rests against the wall, and Mina presses into your side as the others scoot up to see the monitor better. You try to relax into the touch, but it’s foreign, her arm warm against yours.

Suddenly Sero is crawling up from the foot of the bed and grabbing one of the pillows by your side. He then sets it in front of you and lays on his side. Mina brings her knees over his torso while Bakugou grunts and nudges his legs aside for space. You pull yours close against you, body tense to avoid brushing against his hair. Kaminari huffs when he turns and sees the arrangement. He starts the movie and grabs a few snacks before nestling in the space between you and the headboard, legs outstretched by the top of Sero’s head. He opens one bag and tosses the others blindly to the others. He is squished up against you and gently taps your forearm, gesturing to his bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. You mumble, “thanks,” and take a small handful.

The movie is good. It’s not the kind you would volunteer to watch, but it gives you something to focus on and keep the attention of the others away from you. At the halfway mark you notice a cloudiness settling into your mind and body. Your legs strain from the prolonged effort to hold them close, joints and muscles prickling beneath your skin. With a nervous heart you shuffle your feet forward, just before Sero’s head, and feel the slightest relief. You try to wiggle backwards, for additional room, but you’re already pressed against the wall.

Mina notices and frowns in confusion. You don’t realize you’re sporting a pained expression, and hers morphs into concern. She whispers, “You okay?”

“Just cramped,” you whisper back. Your eyes widen when she pulls her legs up and gives Sero’s back a shove. He turns to her curiously.

“Stop hogging their space,” she says, and your stomach clenches at the word choice.

You start shaking your head, to protest, when Sero’s eyes move to you. He just says, “oh,” and squirms towards the edge of the bed. “Sorry. This better?”

Your feet slide forwards, letting your thighs and calves relax, and you nod with a quiet, “thanks.” Sero hums and turns back to the screen, unbothered. Your shoulders drop in relief. 

The movie draws on, but by the end you feel like it just started. It isn’t until Mina stirs next to you that you realize you’re leaning against her, and it isn’t until you right yourself that you realize your inebriation. Your body feels like it’s moving through deep, sticky honey as you sit up straight, and your head is unbelievably heavy. It tilts to the side as if in danger of falling. You pull it back, overcompensating, and it thuds loudly against the wall. A thrum of pain reverberates behind you and your vision floods with white static.

Your cheeks flush as you try to blink your sight back to normal. Kaminari giggles beside you, deepening your blush.

“You good?” he asks, voice filled with mirth.

You nod slowly, head unsteady on your neck. Your eyes rest halfway open and you swallow before grimacing. You smack your lips at the dryness of your mouth.

Kaminari giggles again and moves towards the desk. “Cottonmouth?” 

You’ve never heard the phrase, but you nod. He hands you your water bottle from the desk and then grabs his computer mouse, clicking rapidly. The screen flashes white and you watch as you slowly unscrew the lid of your water. The fluorescence fills your vision sharply, similar to when you smacked your head moments ago, and it makes your perception of the room feel warped—flattened. You blink rapidly as you try to recover a sense of normalcy, but it causes your peripheral to spin.

You tear your eyes from the screen and look at the bottle in your lap. Your grip on the lid is weak, and when you try to squeeze harder your hand tingles—almost tickles. Almost painful. You work gently, using the friction of your palm instead. It comes off eventually, but then you are struck by the new set of obstacles that come with bringing it to your lips and drinking.

Luckily the others are preoccupied with their conversations, drifting softly behind you as if in another room. You wonder if time is passing as slowly for them as it is for you, if they’re similarly encased in molasses. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you assume it’s movie commentary. You can hardly remember what you just watched, the contents years away in your memory. What happened in the meantime? Where have all those minutes run off to?

Once you manage a few sips—with thankfully minimal spillage on your shirt—you set the bottle down and take deep breaths as you put the cap back on. It brings attention to your racing heart, thumping wildly. You think it might explode, which only quickens it further. Your solution is to curl into where Kaminari sat moments ago. You close your eyes and try to convince your body to relax. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work.

You don’t know how long you lay there, attempting to control your heart and breath. You conjure images of the ocean, of the wind—sturdy beings that breathe slowly, regularly. You try to imagine the galloping horse of your heart to soften to a trot, then eventually a delicate walk through a meadow.

A gentle hand lands on your arm, causing you to stir with panic. Your body is tense as you spot Kirishima, large and red, standing by your end of the bed. His arm is outstretched but pulling back, and his face is full of concern—eyebrows creased upwards and lip jutting in a pout.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks softly. 

You clutch the water bottle against your chest tighter, noticing that you’ve been cradling it in your fetal position. You aren’t okay, you realize. But this is Kirishima, the one you accidentally shared your embarrassingly low self-esteem with. He looked at you so pitifully for it, you can’t handle whatever reaction he’ll have if you say you think you’re dying.

So you nod, slowly, eyes still wide.

His eyes pinch and his lips press into a tight line. He looks pained. But he nods slowly in return before glancing at the others. You watch, the seconds passing dreadfully. You think you can see the way his movements smear across your vision, his afterimages in the bluelight.

In an attempt to give credibility to your act, you decide to sit up, to at least pretend you’re part of the conversation. You press up weakly and a wave of nausea rolls up from your belly. You panic at the sensation and take a shaky breath, as quietly as you can. Kiri’s eyes follow you, coating your skin uncomfortably.

You try to conjure your most unbothered expression as you mumble, “Just tired.” You catch the gaze of the others, but no one is scrutinizing you the way your red haired friend is. You summon all your willpower to appear attentive and normal.

You take note of them as best you can. Kaminari and Sero appear unfazed, as if they never got high in the first place. Mina’s words come out slowly and drawn out, with small bursts of giggles in between, and her cheeks are nearly red. Jirou sleeps deeply at the end of the bed. Bakugou looks annoyed—you internalize as perhaps specifically annoyed with you—and he’s the next one to speak.

“If everyone’s fine I’m fuckin’ goin’ to bed.” You don’t catch the next part, but it has more colorful language and the mention of babysitting teenagers.

Kaminari giggles while he watches the blond roughly shove his things in his pockets. Just before he slams the door, Kaminari teases, “I know you had fun with us!”

Mina laughs, soft chuckles from Sero and Kirishima follow. The five of you are huddled in a misshapen circle, not unlike the arrangement before the movie. After the giggles die down, Kaminari’s eyes sweep over you and your friends, assessing their conditions.

“I’m glad it’s kicked in. Does anyone have anything they wanna do next?” He asks.

You scan the faces around you, all holding the same indifferent expressions—shrugging or pursing their lips in thought. Kaminari appears shy, and you give him a curious look.

He smiles sheepishly and pulls his shoulders to his ears. “Shinsou messaged me,” he says. “I was thinking of heading over to his, but I don’t wanna ditch.”

Mina laughs and then hums in amusement. A light blush blooms over the blond’s face. “I am fully supportive of you ditching to be with your lover boy, personally,” she says with a dramatic sigh. The other two nod enthusiastically, and you give him a little shrug.

His face lights up at the response and he giddily stands from the bed. “Shit, okay yeah.” He rummages for his things. “Thanks guys, you can still hang here or whatever—”

The rest is a smear in your memory, the strength of your focus exhausted after a few minutes. You let your eyes cloud and your body accept its heaviness as you drone out the rest of Kaminari’s words. When he leaves you mumble a ‘bye’—or maybe it was ‘good luck’—but let your mind remain hazy.

You don’t know how much time passes, how to gauge it. Your three conscious friends continue to chat softly about benign topics, and you can only muster an occasional hum or slight tweak of your face in reaction. You don’t notice when their eyes watch you closely, instead convinced of your own invisibility, from your inability to push yourself to say something. You’re certainly high right now, and it would be fatal to say something stupid, something for them to laugh at while you forget it in the morning. It’s safer here, curled over yourself, knees and shins protecting your delicate heart.

At some point you notice you are no longer inside your body. When you glance down to your knees, you find you’re instead looking at the top of your head. You see yourself, your smallness, surrounded by your friends happily enjoying themselves. You panic, mind and body frozen at the sight. A coldness seeps into your skin, but the chill is distant. You can see how your friends are thoroughly engaged without you.

A heavy weight settles in your stomach—though your stomach is an abstract idea at this point—at the realization that your presence makes no difference. You are invisible, more so than Hagakure, with your timid personality. You swallow, feeling a heavy lump in the base of your throat—another abstract idea. You watch closely, take note of everyone’s eyes as they jump back and forth between one another and chat exuberantly. They giggle, stick their tongues out, roll their eyes. At each other, not you.

What are you doing here?

Maybe you should leave, leave and never come back. How did you get invited in the first place? Do these people actually like you, or do they feel bad watching you isolate yourself from the class? Your abstract stomach churns with a swirling mix of rage and shame.

You sit and watch, continue to scrutinize. You don’t say a word. You let yourself drift away.

After what could be minutes or hours—either a reasonable estimate to your brain—you feel the urge to use the bathroom. The task is mountainous, an entire excursion requiring careful planning and meticulous execution, but one that has to be done. It also offers a reprieve from your social dilemma. That serves as motivation enough to shift yourself to the edge of the bed and stand.

A wave of dizziness rushes through you. You watch, still as an outsider, as your body nearly topples over. Your hand reaches the desk in time to steady yourself, hyper aware of the eyes in the room. You play off your stumble casually, and lift your hand from the crutch prematurely.

“Bathroom,” you mumble and quickly exit the room.

The dorm hall is another beast. As soon as you turn from the door to the open space, you are confronted by your inability to process dimension. The hall is stretched into what appears to be an entire day’s journey. It makes your heart race again, anxious at the prospect of finding your way alone. You squint, attempting to count the number of doors you’ll pass, but they’re too small in your hazy vision.

You take a careful step forward, imagining yourself a blind elder fumbling through the forest, and drag your hand along the wall as you trek to the bathroom. The door at the end of the hall gets ever so closer, a small victory. You struggle to regulate your breathing throughout the process.

Using the bathroom is another challenge, one that also happens at a snail’s pace. You sit yourself in the stall for an eternity, leaning with your head against the wall. You close your eyes and take deep breaths. It helps center you, guide your essence back into the void of your body. Your mind is racing, running through muck, but it feels back in your own head.

You try your best to reflect on your dissociation in Kaminari’s room. Maybe it’d be best to distance yourself for a while, give yourself some space. Bakugou said he didn’t like babysitting, and that’s probably how the others feel about you always tagging along quietly. You remember Kirishima’s worried glances, how he always looks like he wants to fuss over you. Your cheeks flare in embarrassment, at being perceived as some helpless child. You recall how Sero and Jirou wordlessly split their edible, a practiced routine. There’s already a flow there, a vibe that you don’t fit into.

You should leave them alone.

Standing up brings another dizzy spell, but the small perimeter of the stall offers support. You fumble with your pants and flush the toilet before exhaling and exiting. You wash your hands slowly, let the sensation of the water remind you that you’re back in your own body, and then cup some to your lips. The contact tingles, and you’re numb to the way it drips down your chin and shirt. You scoop another handful and splash it over your cheeks.

When you look up, you’re confronted by a face only inches from yours. It takes you a moment to register that you’re looking at yourself. You see your red eyes and ruffled hair, your skin angrily painted red. You realize you’ve been crying the whole time, an unexpected but familiar sight.

Seeing yourself like this, head on but flipped in the view of the mirror, you stare. You watch your own eyebrows furrow as you search deep in your eyes, the way your lips part and exhale. You wonder who you are, if this is really you. Once again you wonder what you’re doing here. Not just in the dorm bathroom, high out of your mind. Not just in this friend group, one that would be better without you. Not even in UA, on the hero course, treading towards a future you aren’t prepared for.

What are you doing here, on earth. Existing. 

You watch yourself cry, face pinching tight. Your eyebrows scrunch down and your nose tugs up with your lips. You watch your own eyelids squeeze shut before you sit in blackness, feeling only the distant sensation of salty water rolling down your cheeks.

Your legs give out. Before you know it you are a puddle of fabric and skin, melting to eventually lay on your side. You don’t hear yourself sob, choked noises sputtering on the cool tile. You don’t know how long it takes for your cries to die, but eventually you calm and turn to lay on your back. You soak in the cold ground below you, once again floating above and looking down on yourself.

This is how Sero finds you. He gently knocks on the door before letting himself in, immediately spotting you on your back, taking slow breaths—face flushed and tear-stained, with bloodshot eyes. He blanches at the sight and rushes over. He scans the ground for hints, but it’s clean.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks gently. You look at him blankly. “Did you throw up?” you shake your head. “Did you fall?” you shrug.

He sighs. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head again.

“Let’s get you up then,” he says, and you avert your eyes.

You miss the way his face falls. “Hey, really. Are you okay?” he asks again, still gentle despite his firmness. “You can tell me if you’re having a hard time.”

You don’t feel how your face twists in a grimace. You close your eyes and shake your head gently, slowly. Even when you blink them open again, you won’t look his way. 

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks. “I’m guessing you’re overwhelmed, we probably gave you too much. It’ll pass, okay? You won’t be stuck like this. Why don’t you come back and wait it out with the others? I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”

You look at him this time, sporting that pained expression, and shake your head. 

It’s quiet while you watch him think. Eventually he asks, “Do you want to be alone?” 

You immediately nod.

Another moment passes, his lips pressed in a thin line. “I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you alone,” he tells you. “But we can just hang out the two of us, okay? And we can do our own thing, not bother each other if you want. But I’m gonna make sure you have company.”

Your eyes glaze with tears and you curl away, facing him with your back.

“Hey,” he tries again. “I know we aren’t that close, but you can trust me, okay? Or I can get Kiri for you instead.” 

He hears you exhale loudly and make a grunt of disagreement. He waits, crouched on the floor for you to elaborate. You eventually shift so he can see your face, shooting him a nervous look.

“Alone, please.” 

“It’ll just be an hour with us,” Sero presses. “To make sure the peak passes.”

You stare ahead, pensively. “Just you,” you say. A flash of surprise crosses his features. “Just an hour.”

He nods in satisfaction. “Yep, exactly. Now let's get up, yeah?”

The process is far from easy or short, but Sero handles it gracefully. He doesn’t rush you when you say you need another moment, and he’s patient as you adjust to sitting and then standing. His hand hovers over your backside, not making contact, but prepared in case you stumble. You walk slowly down the hall and eventually to the door of Kaminari’s room.

“I’ll grab our stuff and then we’ll go to yours.”

You nod and stay in the hall as Sero steps inside. You hear him huff a laugh and say, “Did she really fall asleep too?”

“They okay?” Kirishima immediately asks, ignoring the question.

“Yeah,” Sero responds calmly. You hear sounds of shuffling. “A little out of it, I think we didn’t wait long enough before the first check in. I’m gonna chill in their room while they come down. Sorry to end things early.”

There’s a muffled grunt. “Are they in their room now? Can I come with?”

Your breath catches from behind the door, heart stirring.

The shuffling pauses. “Uhh…I’m not sure. I don’t wanna make it overwhelming.”

Rustling starts again, a weight lifting from the bed, and your heart thrums when you hear Sero’s voice get closer. “Man, I really wouldn’t push—”

Kirishima is in the doorframe, turning his head and then his body when he sees you. You try to stomp out your nerves at the sight of him and bring your hand up to wave awkwardly.

He visibly deflates, you wonder if in disappointment. “Oh, hey!” he says loudly, then widens his eyes at the volume. “Sorry,” he whispers, “Was hoping to catch you. Sero said you aren’t feeling well? I—”

You don’t hear the rest, eyes locked on his while he speaks. The usual white around his irises has a red tint, but it’s the only noticeable sign that he’s high. He sounds normal, chatting easily. You pout, remembering that you ate the same amount as him earlier. Why are you the only one dying? 

Suddenly Kirishima is looking concerned, eyes wide and furrowed like that pitied gaze. As you tune back in you hear: “Shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry—”

You’re crying? You bring a hand to your cheek and pull away shining fingertips. You hear a sob, and then moments later realize it was you. Your vision blurs and you feel the faintest sliding of tears down your face. You bring your hands back up to wipe them away, but they pour faster in response. You see the blur of Kirishima’s panicked face, layered with confliction. 

Why are you crying? you berate. Kirishima doesn’t deserve this: your messy, unpredictable spilling of emotions. Your skin heats in embarrassment, reddening with shame. Your hands shake as they continue to brush the tears away. You barely manage to stutter out an apology.

There’s a gentle touch on your arm. It’s warm, comforting, somewhat hesitant. Not meant for you, you think. Your crying continues, unchanged.

Suddenly you are tugged into an embrace of warmth. Your face presses against a soft cotton shirt, balmy and firm from the chest beneath it. Additional heat crawls around your waist and back from strong arms holding you close. You are so shocked from the gesture that your crying pauses, though only for a moment.

Then you cry harder, sobs wracking through the length of your body as you bury your head into the safety of Kirishima’s chest. You can feel him tense, his grip starting to loosen around you. Panic bubbles through you, and before you register your actions you are gripping his shirt—shoving your face further into him. His arms return their hold, tighter this time, and you respond by releasing his shirt to sneak your hands around his waist. When he doesn’t let go, you squeeze harder.

(Sero’s eyes widen from the doorway at the sight. Kirishima shoots him a look that could almost be considered a glare, but Sero shakes his head quickly.)

Suddenly you are hoisted upwards, your arms forcibly pulled from Kirishima’s torso to be replaced with your legs. Your head comes to rest in the crook of his neck and you bury it there, the wetness of your eyes and cheeks sticky against his skin. You’re embarrassed and eager for comfort, enough to disregard your remaining pride. You inhale shakily, lulled by the smell of a typical men’s soap mixed with a tang and the warmth of dust. Your body sways gently as he walks towards the elevator, the rock of a boat on calm water. It pours some stillness into your body. Your teary eyes raise over a large shoulder to see Sero trailing behind, watching with a guilty expression. You shove your head back down at the accidental eye contact.

The journey to your room is long, and you only realize it was the destination when you feel Kirishima sit and lower you onto his thighs—one large hand splayed against your back for stability. When your head is freed from the crease of his neck, you see your decorated wall behind him and the duvet of your bed. You lean back to offer him space, and let your eyes trail over the room. It’s yours, exactly how you left it. Except for Kirishima on your bed and Sero standing by the door, dumping everyone’s belongings on your desk.

When you look back at Kirishima he’s smiling softly, somewhat sheepishly. He speaks in a quiet and low voice. “Do you want me to move?”

It takes a few seconds to understand what he means, that he’s not sure if you’re comfortable in his lap like this. You look down at the tops of his thighs, noticing how he seated you by his knees—far from his hips. When you look back up his face is pink, and you flush at the implications of your staring.

Your answer is no. You want to tell him, but admitting it is impossible. You can’t get yourself to tell him yes, either.

He watches you closely before asking cautiously, “Is it okay if I stay like this?”

You nod easily at the reframing of the question, and he smiles gently. A tap on your shoulder draws your attention behind you, to Sero offering you some water. You take it and chug, only now noticing your thirst.

“Can I sit here too?” Sero asks, pointing to the bed. You nod while drinking.

You toss the bottle to the side when you finish, and meet Kirishima’s eyes tensely. The awkwardness starts to sweep over you, remembering that you’re sitting in his lap in the quiet room, both him and Sero watching you closely. Your mind is still cloudy, your body slow in sticky air. But you’re not alone in the bathroom. You aren’t sure if this is better or worse.

“Pretty hazy, huh?” Sero’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You nod and he hums. “We’ll just hang with you while it passes, okay?”

“‘Kay,” you mumble. You look back to Kirishima and are given more smiles. While guilt still rests heavily in your stomach, you can’t help the feathery tickle of happiness in your chest. It’s selfish, you think, to have them like this—especially after your declaration to yourself in the bathroom—but you can’t get yourself to care. Your face curls into a slight smile, and it makes Kirishima beam.

It’s too much. His joy grabs your stomach in a tight fist and you have to look away. You feel eyes on you, and pull your head down to ignore them.

The hand on your back treads up and down carefully, soothingly. In a moment you are pressed gently into Kirishima’s chest, and you graciously take cover, hiding your face. His other hand glides around your waist and pulls you close. Warmth washes over you, the comfort of morning coals still hot from a night fire. It would relax you completely, if you weren’t on edge from your newfound closeness with your friend.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Kirishima’s voice rumbles through his chest. It reminds you of the distant rolling of a storm. “Anything, okay?”

You can only nod into his shirt, not willing to make eye contact. Your cheek presses against his heart, its beat thumping through your mind. It’s loud, like uncontained joy filling a room. But it’s slow, steady. You lean into it, let it set your rhythm for breathing. You inhale as four pulses pass, then exhale for five.

Time still treads slowly, wading through fog, but you notice you don’t resume your bathroom spiraling. You wonder if the heat of your friendly company is keeping you afloat. You wonder if it’s just postponing the eventual continuation of your drowning. You hear shuffling on your bed, Sero getting comfortable as he takes out his phone. Kirishima diligently rubs your back as he takes even breaths, the deep humming of his lungs pairing calmly with his heart.

Your mind wanders to gentler places, wondering why you deserve such care. Your heart deflates at the thought that it’s from pity—Kirishima’s sad eyes still haunting your memory. You don’t realize that your shoulders have tensed until a large hand trails up to softly coax them to relax. You exhale and let them fall.

It continues like this, Kirishima noticing your every movement, bringing attention to when you become rigid or unstable. He doesn’t say anything, only moves his hands to be a reminder, to your body and how it reacts to your emotions, your overthinking. Only when you feel settled in your skin, cradling the familiar weight of your own bones and flesh, do you realize how detached you were. You hadn’t actually re-entered yourself since you first looked at the top of your own head, only adjusted enough for it to feel normal. You wonder if that’s your default, if you ever feel embodied the way you are now. A long time passes, but it gets more comfortable the longer you sit in your friends hold.

You shift suddenly, from Kirishima adjusting himself. You bring your head up to look at him and he offers you an awkward smile.

“Need to use the bathroom,” he says quietly. A slight pang of disappointment runs through you, but you nod and lean to the side, catching yourself on the bed so he can get up. He stands slowly and gives each leg a moment to stretch. You make a face when his knees pop.

He smiles at you before turning to the door. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You hope he means the hugging, not just being in your room.

You nod as he exits. Your eyes linger on the door, body in a trance, until a dip of the mattress brings your attention to your side. It’s Sero, sitting up. He drops his phone on the bed, eyes focused on you.

“How’re you holding up?”

Your eyes fall to the duvet underneath you, fingers picking at invisible lint. “Better,” you answer.

“Good.” There’s an awkward pause before he continues. “Sorry I didn’t try harder to stop him earlier.”

You frown, brow furrowed in confusion.

He returns the look. “You said just me, in the bathroom,” he reminds you. “I didn’t know you weren’t so comfortable with him. Though I’m kind of glad he came anyway.”

Your frown deepens. “He doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” he says. He looks like he wants to probe further.

“He…” you start, then pause. You look down as you continue, “I just don’t want him to be nice because he feels bad.”

“Wha—” Sero cuts himself off in disbelief. You miss his shocked face as you continue to pick at the blanket cover. “Hey, Kiri might have a strong moral compass, but he’s not your friend out of pity—none of us are.”

Your nose stings as you listen, eyes blinking carefully to prevent tears from spilling over. Your fist clenches the duvet tight enough to send prickles up your arm. A slender hand reaches to cover yours, urging it to relax.

“Hey,” he says gently. “I mean it. And I’m sorry if it hasn’t felt that way.”

Despite all the tears you’ve shed today, you still cry easily—an endless, open stream. You bring your free hand to wipe your eyes, and then attempt to cover your face from the embarrassment. Your chest hurts, heavy as it struggles to take air. You feel the mattress shift and a gentle touch at your back. It runs softly along your spine and you cry harder, releasing a small yelp. You pull the front of your shirt over your head to soak up your sounds and tears, reddening from the noises you don’t mean to release.

Sero keeps his distance, rubbing your back but not guiding you closer. It’s a different sort of comfort than Kirishima’s, a different consideration.

He speaks again once you’ve calmed. “I’m serious, though. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel unwelcome, because that’s definitely not the case.”

You inhale deeply and shrug. “It’s okay.” You sniffle and wince at your voice, its hoarseness. “It’s not your fault.”

“Still, I wish we could’ve made you comfortable enough to bring it up.”

You shake your head, thinking of your accidental confessional with Kirishima, your surprise at your own words and the way you told him to keep it secret, to forget about it, even. “It’s…it’s not just you all,” you try to explain. “I’m like this with everyone.”

He sighs and leans back against the wall. “We should be better about it than everyone else, then,” he says easily.

You huff, trying to brush away the lump in your throat. It comes with more stinging behind your eyes and you will it away, annoyed with your crying. You rub your shirt down your face one final time before dropping it and pouting. When you look at Sero you think he’s holding back a smile.

He looks nervous as he asks, “Can I give you a hug?”

You blink before nodding, moving closer to him by the wall. He leans towards you carefully, slowly, but his lean arms come over your shoulders to hold you close. His skin is cool and nice against your clamminess. He smells crisp and refreshing, unlike Kirishima’s dense warmth.

“Sorry I’m probably not as comfy as Kiri,” he says. You huff a laugh into his chest. 

“Still nice,” you mumble into his collarbone. “Comfy in a different way.”

He laughs breathily, giving your back a couple pats before a final squeeze around your shoulders. When you pull away, shuffling to sit beside him, his arm lingers over your shoulders. It keeps you close, to lean into his side.

“This okay?” he asks. You mumble, “yeah,” in response.

The next few minutes pass quietly. You find the silence comforting, not the awkward tension you have with others. Something about him is easy and relaxed, nonchalant where you might normally panic. Even now in your close embrace, he handles it effortlessly.

He breaks the silence abruptly. “I’m also sorry we didn’t catch on sooner,” he says. “At the very least I should’ve known to not let you take so much.”

You pout. “Kirishima had the same as me and he’s okay.”

Sero sighs beside you. “He’s also probably double your weight. You seem similar to Jirou, where it takes a while to feel but it hits pretty hard, huh?”

“I guess,” you mumble. “I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

He hums and lifts his hand from your shoulder to pat your hair. “Well, regardless I’m sorry your first time wasn’t good. If you ever wanna try again we can plan the dosage better. And the environment.”

You roll your eyes and tell him that it’s unnecessary.

“No it’s not,” he says, frowning. “Seriously. I want you to have a good time.” He turns his head to look at you closely. “And…if you wanna talk about what tonight was like, I’d like to hear. Kiri would too, if you’re willing to include him.”

As if on cue, the redhead stumbles through the door. You look up to see his arms full of snacks and a mug in each hand. 

“Sorry I took so long,” he says. “I got hungry. And I went to check on the girls but they’re still sleeping.”

“I just assumed you were taking a shit,” Sero says, watching as Kirishima approaches the bed and lifts his arms to let the snacks fall. “And don’t worry about them, Jirou always falls asleep. If Kaminari comes back he'll take care of them.”

You blink in surprise when one mug is offered to you. You take it slowly, inhaling steam and tanginess. “Thanks,” you say. You think you’d cry again if you weren’t so tired of it.

Kirishima beams in response, settling himself in front of you. He crosses his legs, a knee brushing over yours. You’re suddenly embarrassed by Sero’s arm around you, and you wonder if your red haired friend is upset. Then you realize he’s probably happy to be relieved from holding you. 

“You didn’t get me one?” Sero pouts.

“Don’t worry, I put mine in a bigger mug so you can have some too,” Kirishima responds, extending his arm for Sero to have a sip.

You bring your cup to your lips, a mix of citrus and floral and sweet coating your tongue. “It’s good.”

“Chamomile and lemon,” Kirishima explains. “With some honey.”

You take a couple more sips, letting warmth soothe your throat and flood your chest. You look up from your mug to meet twinkling red eyes. You wonder why he looks so happy.

“Any updates?” he asks. “It seemed like I interrupted some chatting.”

You shrug. “Just that I’m feeling better.”

The redhead smiles excitedly. “That’s great to hear! Are you feeling normal?”

You purse your lips as you ponder. “My body feels a lot more normal,” you say vaguely. “But my heart is still racing. And my head’s hazy.” You also still feel anxious—more than usual—but you don’t mention it in case they probe further. 

“That’s good.” Sero hums, and you see Kirishima’s eyebrows raise, like he wants to ask more. He glances towards Sero, unfolding a silent conversation, and you look away when you recognize it.

Before you can curl in on your own insecurity, Sero says, “It’s common to get anxious the first time you use. Did you feel like you were dying?”

You begin to shake your head, but pause. Your face scrunches in thought as you say, “After the movie. But then it was more that I was outside of my body and I couldn’t get back into it.”

Kirishima frowns and you think you can see the gears turning, metal churning in his mind. Sero speaks before it amounts to anything: “Maybe we can debrief more in the morning, when you’ve had some distance. Especially if you’re still foggy.”

You nod immediately, a wave of relief rolling through you. Kirishima’s shoulders drop, but he nods in understanding.

The night carries on with ease. Despite the bulk of the high having passed, the boys hang around and you don’t ask them to leave. The three of you end up squeezed under the covers, quietly munching on snacks while watching a show. You fall asleep after a few episodes, and your friends speak softly as they watch your steady breathing.

“Did I miss something?” Kirishima asks, tucked between you and the wall.

Sero shakes his head, laying on your other side by the edge of the bed. “Not much. I mostly just apologized for not noticing sooner. And for not being smarter about the dosage.”

The redhead frowns. “They cried again, though,” he says, remembering fresh smears of red around your eyes.

Sero blinks in realization. “Oh, right. Yeah.” Kirishima deadpans, unamused. Sero recalls what he can, when you said you didn’t want them to be nice because they felt bad. The redhead’s frown tugs further as he listens.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Maybe I’ve been too pushy. They told me recently that they can have trouble with friend groups…I was trying to be more observant and include them when we’re all together but—maybe that’s not what they want.” His chest pangs at the thought that he could be making it harder for you.

Sero reads his friend easily, deciding to keep the bathroom conversation to himself. Instead he says, “I think they’re comfortable around you, just embarrassed. About sharing that kind of stuff.”

Kirishima looks at you, your sleeping form breathing beside him. You look uncertain even in your dreams, a slight crease burrowed between your brows. He sighs and lays back, eyes drifting to the ceiling. His heart clenches the way it normally does in your presence, this time with an additional pang of guilt.

“It’s not your fault,” Sero says. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

The redhead closes his eyes and nods slowly. He lets out a breath before smiling and saying, “Yeah. Thanks, man.”

They shuffle themselves out of the bed carefully, Kirishima awkwardly crawling over you to avoid shifting the mattress. He releases a breath when he stands and you lay unbothered, still deep in dreamspace. He turns to Sero and they nod in unison, leaving quietly to ready for bed.

Waking is painful, your eyelids sticky against you. At first you try to fall back asleep, the effort of opening your eyes too grand. But the bathroom calls, and soon you are peeling them open—right first, then the left. You blink rapidly to grease them, taking in the lightness of the room. While your mind is still somewhat hazy, you recall everything in an instant. The anxiety lingers, carved distantly in your chest, but you feel grounded in your body. 

You turn your head, remembering falling asleep between your friends, but they’re nowhere in sight. Disappointment makes that hollowness feel deeper, and you mentally chide yourself for being delusional. You huff and will yourself to sit, swinging your legs over the bed to head to the bathroom. You almost yelp when you look at the floor.

Kirishima and Sero are occupying the ground, the redhead’s limbs sprawled around him like a seastar, and the other laying as straight as a corpse. You watch the latter’s chest for several seconds to confirm he’s breathing. Then you tiptoe carefully, swiping your toiletries from your desk and delicately leaping to the other side of the room. You exit quietly, leaving a sliver of space between the door and the frame. Once in the hall you sprint to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall.

You scowl. Minutes ago you were disappointed that your friends didn’t spend the night in your room, and then the moment you realized they did, you ran away.

Your time in the bathroom is primarily spent scrutinizing the events that unfolded the night before. You cringe as you count how many times you cried, your continuous blubbering to Sero. Postponing the “debrief” felt good at the time, but having this conversation sober feels immensely mortifying compared to admitting to these things while high. You could be playing off your words as a bad experience right now, and then returning to your grand plan of isolation.

It makes your heart feel funny to think that’s why Sero suggested it.

After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you stand idly by the sink. You take your sweet time returning to your room, and even then you can’t bring yourself to the door. You stop a few paces away when you hear murmuring inside. You contemplate booking it downstairs and saying you needed fresh air.

The squeak of the hinges seizes your options, and suddenly you are staring at a freshly-woken Kirishima. He rubs his eye with his knuckle and you watch as he brightens when he sees you.

“Hey!” he says. “We were wondering where you went.”

You freeze in place, feet cemented to the ground. Your fist clenches around your bag as you force a pained smile. “Bathroom.”

Kirishima’s face softens, eyes widening slightly. “You okay?”

You nod by default.

His eyes trace over your features, drifting along your brow and lips. When he speaks again, it’s much softer. “It’s just us.”

You blink, inhaling sharply. He extends a hand out to you, eyes wide and light. You stare at it, hand immediately lifting towards it before you stop yourself. He takes the pause in stride, still waiting, for when you eventually step forward and touch your fingertips against his palm.

He smiles at the contact and curls his hand around yours, layered petals of a rose. He’s warm and soft, and lets himself hold it carefully for a moment.

“Thanks,” he says before gently tugging you back inside the room. Your heart skips.

You almost laugh at the sight of Sero, on his knees and sleepily folding the blankets on the floor. His hair is matted in some spots while frizzy in others, and he looks incredibly tired. 

“Mornin’,” he mumbles sleepily. 

You return the greeting while Kirishima guides you through your room. When he reaches your bed, he asks to sit.

“You seem excited,” you blurt as you lower yourself next to him.

“I’m always excited to talk to you.”

You flush at the admission and dart your eyes to Sero. You feel betrayed by his lack of reaction, still folding the blankets.

“Okay…” you trail off, unsure how to respond.

Kirishima takes it easily. “How are you feeling?”

You want to say nervous. Instead you say, “Normal.”

“Good normal?” Sero chimes in.

You’re taken aback by the clarification. “Normal normal,” you say.

The pause that follows is enough time to bring unease into your body. It seeps from your shoulders to your chest, and then collects in your stomach. You frown. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when there’s still no response. You ignore their looks of confusion and let yourself blabber. “For making you babysit me. But thanks…I appreciate it, and I think it’s what I needed.”

“Anytime,” Kirishima says immediately. “Don’t apologize, we wanted to. We like hanging out with you.”

Instead of reassuring you, it pulls your face further into a frown. While you know Kirishima to be earnest, he doesn’t usually say these things to you outright. You wonder if he’s trying to be nice, to soften the prickles of your embarrassment.

Your skepticism must show. His face twists in a grimace and he loosens his hold on your hand—an unfurling petal. “Sorry, was that too much?”

You feel like a withered flower yourself, still stomaching your fears but beyond your capacity. It only takes a few shakes for your dried leaves to scatter. You brace yourself as you release them. “It’s just…you don’t have to say stuff like that.”

The air stills at your words. Sero’s folding stops, and you feel Kirishima’s rigidness through his hand. You stare down at it, avoiding the way his eyes track you closely. He says carefully, “But I mean it.”

The words sift right through you, a ghost passing by. You’re so numb to all the bad scenarios in your head, you don’t know how you feel when the opposite occurs. Your response comes out equally unfeeling.

 “It’s hard to believe,” you say, the words empty on your tongue. You want to slam your head in the wall for sounding so dramatic.

The hand over yours tightens. A dip on your other side indicates Sero has joined. You remain still, but your heart races beneath your stoicism. A soft pressure grazes your back, Sero’s gentle fingers. It’s distant, a contrast to the vice grip on your hand. But both touches are caring: one offering patience while the other expresses need.

“Can you tell us about last night?” Sero asks quietly.

You try. 

The words flow slowly. You pick them carefully, focusing on explaining sensations rather than your emotional journey. You describe how you felt at the end of the movie, the full force of your altered state, how time passed and you drifted further and further from yourself. You vaguely mention your overthinking, overanalyzing every interaction you noticed. You recount staring in the mirror until your legs gave out. You tell Kirishima that he helped guide you back into your own body.

Sero grimaces when you finish and says, “That sounds rough. I really am sorry—for not paying better attention.”

Kirishima nods in agreement while you shrug and say, “It’s okay.”

The three of you chat softly, mostly you answering when they ask for details. Sero looks intrigued, admitting that he hasn’t heard much about dissociation while using, but that it makes sense. His questions are easy—clinical, even. Kirishima asks the harder ones, trying to reign in answers that you’re too embarrassed to give.

“Do you have any guesses for what triggered it?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, attempting to craft a response that doesn’t sound incredibly depressing.

Before you can speak, he asks, “Do you think it has to do with what you told me before? About being with bigger groups of people?”

The aversion of your eyes is enough of an answer. You stare at the rumpled blanket beneath you, busy your free hand by attempting to smooth out a patch of wrinkles. Eventually you nod.

You feel a squeeze around your other hand—the one still in Kirishima’s. You bring your eyes to his cautiously. “Can you tell us?” he asks. “We’re interested in hearing why.”

You swallow as you grimace. You think of words that can soften the edges of your thoughts. You settle on: “I think seeing myself from the outside made me realize that I don’t really contribute to the friend group.”

Their surprised looks make you flush, but you continue carefully when they encourage you. “I just…I don’t know why I get invited to hang out when I hardly ever speak. Hagakure is actually invisible and she’s more noticeable than me.”

Sero looks at you thoughtfully. “Do you like hanging out with us?” he asks.

You nod.

“Do you want to talk and be a bigger part of the conversation?”

You still, not expecting to be asked so directly. The answer sits at the tip of your tongue, but your eyes and nose sting. You swallow and take a few breaths before responding as evenly as you can. “I just…don’t want you all to think I’m lame, or stupid.”

They both shift at that, turning closer towards you. It makes you falter on your spot of the bed, your free hand pressing down for balance. You hear both of your friends start a response, then cut themselves off at the sound of the other’s voice. There’s a moment of silence, an exchange of glances you don’t see, and then finally Kirishima speaks first.

“We would never think that,” he says. “We invite you because we want to get to know you better. We want you to talk openly.”

Sero nods and adds, “I think you’re also forgetting that half of us are idiots. We’re always goofing around and saying stupid shit anyways. Besides, we know you’re smart.”

The huff of laughter that escapes you is genuine, but easily stomped as more insecurities rise within you, the beginning of a boil. You can’t stop now that you’ve started. “It’s hard, when everyone already seems so close,” you say. It reminds you of last night, when Sero said Kaminari was used to dealing with Jirou falling asleep in his room.

Sero hums. “I can understand that being difficult, since we’re closer to each other than you. But Kiri’s right, we wanna get to know you too. If it’s hard as a group, we can always hang out separately. Like now.”

Kirishima adds, “And the others would too.”

Your stomach squeezes at the thought of asking any of them to spend time with you, but you nod regardless and say, “Okay.” They don’t seem convinced.

“Is there anything we can do in the meantime?” Kirishima presses. “To make you feel more included? When we’re all together, I mean.”

You bite your tongue, an obvious answer ready. But it’s hard to say these things openly. Sero notices and says, “Really, anything.”

Your heart is still uneasy, but you shovel through your embarrassment. “I like when people ask me questions. It’s hard to jump into a conversation by myself.”

Kirishima brightens, as if you’ve offered him a gift. “Oh! That makes sense. Aw man, I wish I’d noticed sooner. I always have so many questions about you, but I don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

You blink in surprise at his words, a weight lifting from your chest. You feel excited by the admission, and embarrassed. You think the shift of energy in the room is palpable, much lighter than when you first came back from the bathroom. You smile sheepishly.

“Then can I ask…” he continues, “Last night—Were you okay with the touches? I’m big on hugging, but I probably should’ve been better about asking. That’s my bad. You can always tell me to stop.”

You shake your head easily. “No, it was nice. Like I said earlier, I think it helped.”

The redhead beams, hand tightening over yours. “That’s awesome to hear. I’m always open to it, y’know? I love hugging my friends and cuddling.”

Your cheeks darken at the honesty. You know you won’t ever feel brave enough to ask, but you nod in understanding. 

Sero huffs beside you. “We all do,” he says. “Even Bakugou. He’ll complain but he never moves.”

You smile at the comment, though not even a possibility to entertain. You prefer avoiding the blond at all costs. 

Kirishima is still smiling at you, with a joy you can’t understand. “Thanks for telling us,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb against your palm. You only find it in yourself to nod, heart quivering at his gentleness. 

“Thanks for asking,” you say. You have to tear your eyes away from Kirishima, his smile widening in such earnestness that you can’t let yourself entertain what it might mean. Instead you catch Sero’s easy grin, a calmer space.

Maybe he notices your antsiness, because he looks to Kirishima and says, “Maybe we can chat more at breakfast? I’m getting hungry.”

It’s easy bait for the redhead, immediately biting. “Oh, of course, man. You want me to cook you something? I’ve been wanting to try making an omelet, I heard you can get a ton of protein in the morning that way.”

You have to bite your lip to suppress the giant grin that crawls up your face. Sero catches it as he wears his openly. “Sounds awesome,” he says to Kirishima before looking back at you. “We’ll go take our stuff back to our rooms and then meet you downstairs?”

You nod, sliding off the bed while they gather their blankets and pillows. You open the door as they enter the hall. Sero nudges Kirishima onwards before turning to shoot you a smile. You take the stairs to avoid sharing the elevator.

The common room is surprisingly empty when you enter, despite approaching noon. While you pull eggs from the fridge and whatever other things you think belong in an omelet, Kaminari stumbles through the door. You wave when he spots you.

“Hey!” he says brightly, bouncing over. “How was the rest of your night?”

“Good,” you say simply, tired of talking about it.

His eyes shine when he spots the food on the counter. “Woah, you’re making breakfast?”

You watch his face morph into a pout, a plea. “Kirishima is,” you say. “I’ll tell him to make extra for you.”

He grins. “You’re the best.”

You blink in surprise, watching him pull out his phone and lean against the counter. Not knowing what to say, you ask about his time with Shinsou.

“Hmm? It was good,” he replies, thumb scrolling mindlessly. He brightens and then starts typing before saying, “Oh! He wants to try this cafe tomorrow, apparently they have tons of different chocolate options. You should totally come if you’re free.”

He turns his phone to you, showing an array of desserts. They look good, ones you would seek out on your own. But your brow furrows, wondering why he’d want you to third-wheel his date. “It looks really good,” you say.

“I know!” he exclaims. “You always eat those chocolate covered snack things, this seems like your style.”

You freeze at his words. Your heart lifts in your chest, but you carefully maintain a blank face.

“Anyways, let me know,” he says. He pushes away from the counter and heads toward the elevator. “I’ll be back down in a second!”

You are left alone and stunned in the kitchen. You frown, wondering if Kirishima or Sero set him up after the conversation minutes ago. Why else would he ask you to come along? Especially with him and Shinsou. Was he really that observant? Why would he even notice?

Your mind trails back to your conversation with the boys this morning. We wanna get to know you.

You inhale deeply, puffing your cheeks as you hold your breath. After a few seconds you let it expel slowly. Maybe Kaminari and Shinsou just want to hang out—with you. Maybe they don’t mind that you’re quiet. Your body tingles.

Ten minutes later you are wedged between Sero and Kaminari, the three of you on chopping duty while Kirishima whips eggs on the other side of the counter.

“So, you think you’ll come along?” Kaminari asks while the other two argue over how many peppers to use. You nod, and he brightens. “Awesome! I’ll tell Toshi.”

Your eyebrows raise at the nickname, then at the way the blond licks the remnants of tomato off his fingers to type on his phone.

When the others cast curious glances, you quietly explain. “We’re going to a cafe tomorrow.”

Kirishima immediately blinks, saying, “Wait—” while Sero gasps dramatically. You furrow your eyes in confusion until the latter asks, “Where’s our invite?”

Kaminari snickers. “Toshi says the rest of you are too loud. He wants a peaceful day out.”

Kirishima’s face falls into a pout and you feel bad at your growing smile. For the second time today, you bite down on your lip to suppress it, but Sero notices. He makes a show of his own exaggerated petulance, but then it morphs into another easy grin. You think he looks happy for you.

“Let’s study together today,” you tell Kirishima. At his immediate switch to a joyful smile, you let yours return. You feel yourself beaming like an idiot.

“Oh, let me join!” Kaminari says. “You’re so good at English, and I need so much help.”

“No!” Kirishima immediately protests. “You can ask Bakugou. You’re already stealing them tomorrow.”

The noise that leaves the blond is akin to a squawk. “I said I want to be tutored, not bullied—”

You giggle as they bicker, turning back to your onion as you feel your cheeks heat. You continue chopping, embarrassed by the attention. A nudge from your left makes you look up, eyes connecting with Sero’s. He gives you a wink and then sticks out his tongue. You return the gesture.

Your heart still beats quickly and you feel the familiar tingle of nerves thrum through your hands. Your mind has a slight haze, a tough stain left by the previous night. Your cheeks are warm from embarrassment. You cringe at the mere thought of the conversation in your room earlier.

But you’re moving forward, you think. To the cafe with Kaminari and Shinsou, to study with Kirishima. To let your friends in just a little bit, and to begin this careful exploration of yourself in the process.

[femdomlieeh]

Pink Blush (m)

First time Sub!Haechan ✧ Secretly Dom!Reader

WC—1.8 k

THEMES—new relationship ✧ nsfw fluff (?) ✧ borderline smut

WARNING—punishment ✧ teasing (m!g) ✧ masturbation (m) ✧ use of handcuffs & strap on ✧ praise ✧ light degradation ✧ pet names "mommy", "channie", "bad boy"✧ mentions of gender stereotypes (ew), safe words & (future) pegging

NOW PLAYING—Tattoo ✧ Loreen

[A/N.] old xiumin (exo) version

When this post gets 100 votes I’ll publish a stray kids group reaction chapter👍

M.LISTS—nct 127 ✧ dream ✧ latest updates ✧ wp version

All rights reserved © femdomlieeh

✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

"Come on~! Show me~!" Haechan whined in your ear for the umpteenth time today.

Like all the previous times, you answered no.

Yesterday your boyfriend had found out that you had a mommy kink and liked being dominant in the bed (You had left a wattpad tab open on our shared laptop because you were apparently too tired to click on the cross), and, although that should've been something positive, you didn't want him to know.

On a daily basis, he already got critique for being younger (looking younger) than his partner, and being too 'feminine' and 'cutesy' – so, to want him to submit to you and make him match other people's perception of him was selfish and thus something you refused to do.

The theory of genders having specific power roles was something you'd always been opposed to, as you do not believe a gender determines a level of power. Truthfully, you couldn't care less if your boyfriend wanted to break gender stereotypes or not — damn, he could wear 'girly' clothes and/or put make up on if he wanted to — but you did care about what he thought of himself.

He didn't like it when people commented on how much younger he looked than he was. He didn't like it when people described him as feminine instead of masculine. He didn't like it when people [excluding you and some of his friends] called him cute. He didn't think that having any of those characteristics was wrong; he just didn't want people to call him those things.

"Please?" He attempted to lure you in with his gleaming puppy eyes – which usually worked – but that method didn't work this time around, because the great amount of vexation he had brought to you today had made you fully resistant to his cuteness.

"No, I don't want to hurt you," you answered with a blank face, trying your best to find a seemingly interesting movie on Netflix, that you hadn't already seen, so your boyfriend could give up his dumb quest. It was a little confusing why he wanted to try these types of thing with you, knowing how he felt about being belittled by others.

"I thought you said that we should always be honest with each other and always be ourselves," he argued, making a valid point since you had said those words from the start of your relationship.

"But I also said I never wanted us to hurt each other," you retorted in defense, feeling more and more irritated by the second.

Leaning and sinking down a little bit on the sofa, Haechan wanted to be more comfortable as he knew this conversation would be long. Chewing on the strings of his pink hoodie, he looked at and studied you; frown, annoyed sighs, hard grip on the remote, darker lips from biting on them – everything pointed at you being mad, and thus rather sensitive.

Then a bulb lit above his head.

"But what if I like it when you hurt me?"

You turned your head to his side. There it was. Exactly what he wanted to see. An expression on your face that told him that if he continued this route, he would get fucked. Whether it was literally or metaphorically, he wanted to find out.

"I'm leaving," you announced and stood up as quickly as the short sentence ended. You had to leave, because Haechan was pushing your buttons and you knew that if you stayed for longer you could end up doing what you had been trying to avoid since he had found out about the femdom part of you.

His face changed from calm puppy to clingy puppy with separation anxiety, scared of its owner leaving. This was not the reaction he had tried to get from you. He stood up and followed your fast steps to the bedroom. As soon as he saw you throw one of your biggest bags onto the floor, followed up by some clothing pieces, he felt his blood freeze. Were you leaving as in leaving the relationship?

"Why are you packing?" he asked, scared of your answer.

"I'm going to Irene's. I can't stay with you when you're making me crazy like this." What you said was true; you were sure he'd crack your patience and make you go full sadist on him if you stayed in the same room as him for another minute – or even worse: another hour or whole night.

He felt relieved that you weren't breaking up with him over a silly argument, but he still didn't want you to stay over at your friend's when you both knew that it would be smarter to solve the tension instead.

"Stay with me," he pleaded lowly, sensing he didn't have many other options than pleading and hoping it'd be persuasive enough for you to stay with him.

"We need a night without each to calm down and have an adult discussion, alright?" you tried to explain, grabbing your now-fully-packed bag, and heading to the door to continue your journey to your awesome best friend.

When Haechan didn't talk back, you turned away from the doorway and to the bed to see why he was being quiet and not protesting some more like he usually would. He was looking you in the eyes as he pulled the hoodie off his torso and threw it your way. You caught it in your hand. Proceeding, he pulled down his pants, making sure he did it slowly enough to send you signals that he wasn't planning on putting on his PJs.

As he stood in only his boxers in front of you, a new bulb lit up above his head – and this one was even brighter than the last one – maybe he did have more options than to plead and strip.

With a smirk he sat down on the foot of the bed, maintaining eye contact, and pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. You were speechless when he had stripped down to almost full nudity, but what shocked you the most was that just speaking to him disrespectfully had turned him on.

The moment he started touching his cock and moaning like a bitch, you realized that he had purposely been naughty so you could punish him. He had whined in you ear all day, stripped and masturbated when you wanted to leave because he wanted this; he wanted to be punished.

So, you decided to do it.

You dropped the bag and went to your wardrobe, taking out a box you'd kept secret from Haechan. He looked your way curiously, analyzing your reaction while still stroking his cock rudely. Damn, he hoped you were doing something femdom related.

"Safeword?" you asked, examining the nostalgic box of memory-making apparatuses, trying to decide which ones you wanted to use to make memories tonight.

"Sun," he answered, smiling at the victory; he was going to get fucked literally.

"I hope you understand that I'm going to have to punish you for being such a naughty boy."

"Yes, Mommy," he said oh so naturally.

You looked back at him after he said the last word, watching him lay down on the bed, boxers in a random corner of the room. He seemed experienced or like he'd had a fantasy about calling you that word for a while, no stutter, and thankfully that made it easier for you decide on which toys to use on him.

"Naughty boys don't deserve to touch Mommy," you turned to him with a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs. He blushed a little, not expecting the object you chose to punish him with to be so adorable. Did he seriously think that was all you were going to use as punishment when he'd riled you up like this?

How cute.

Walking slowly to him, you threw the cuffs onto the bed beside his legs and startled him a bit at the suddenness of the action. He had teased you, and you wanted to make sure he'd feel teased as well – and what better way to do that than to use one of his biggest weaknesses against him? Smirking, you pulled off your shirt, leaving your upper body in only a bra – a pink one. He had always liked that color – though he denied it since it wasn't manly to like pink.

You climbed on top of his body and took the cuffs in your hands again, getting ready to restrain him. He was breathing heavily, getting aroused by your body above his, and especially by your boobs that were clad in such a lovely color. Although he liked the bra, he would've loved to see your boobs without anything covering them.

"Hold your arms up for me, Channie," you ordered, to which he listened to instantly. He held them up against the bed frame, assuming you were going to cuff him to it. But he was wrong. You didn't want him to predict his punishment; you wanted everything to be a surprise that not even his fantasy could come close to.

Instead of cuffing his wrists to the frame of the bed, you cuffed them to nothing. Yes, nothing. It may sound boring to restrain your partner to nothing, but it was the opposite; restraining him to air meant that he still could choose to disobey you further by bringing his arms down. "You're going to keep your arms here, and if you at any point put them down and touch me it'll add to your punishment, understood?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Oh, don't act like a good boy all of a sudden. You're getting punished for a reason, Haechannie," you scoffed lightly, feeling soft from the sweetness that seemed to ooze naturally whether he tried to or not.

"But I am a good boy," he pouted, adding to the cuteness you adored so much.

"Only if you can manage this punishment, but until then you're a bad boy," you explained and turned back to the box to grab the last part of the punishment. He continued pouting, until he saw the object you took out: a strap on. After removing your pants, you put the fake dick on and adjusted it to your hips.

The strap wasn't bigger than the average dick as you didn't know how used he was to having dildos shoved up his ass – and even though you wanted to hurt him, you were still cautious over how harsh you were with him. He was your squishy Haechannie after all.

"You ready, Channie?" you asked as you crawled back to him, searching his face for any uncertainty. His big eyes and toothy smile hinted at him anticipating what you were about to do, but you still wanted a verbal answer as you wanted to make sure he was OK with being pegged.

He nodded quickly, "Yes, Mommy, I'm always ready for you."

✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

❝ Violins playin' and the angels cryin'

When the stars align, then I'll be there

No, I don't care about them all

'Cause all I want is to be loved

And all I care about is you

You're stuck on me like a tattoo

No, I don't care about the pain

I'll walk through fire and through rain

Just to get closer to you

You're stuck on me like a tattoo ❞

—lorine zineb noka talhaoui; 2023

[rikisniffles]

chapter nine [西村力] my first love was a boy ✧ NISHIMURA RIKI (NI-KI) X M!READER

SYNOPSIS — l/n y/n is a member of boynextdoor under hybe/koz. being an idol has always been y/n's dream, and ever since it became true he has been more than happy. despite being an idol, he doesn't know many other idols outside his group. when he runs into his seniors, a seemingly never-ending spiral of embarrassing moments occurs.

disclaimer !! : every idol in my stories is a character and does not always reflect the actual person (i do my best but for entertainment purposes, it may be off)

— fic masterlist / info

chapter nine - y/n fell first

warning: written part (after the first image)

“Ni-ki?” Sunoo grabs Ni-ki’s attention from across the table, “Eat some more.” He plates some food, handing it over to the other boy. Ni-ki takes it with a generous nod but keeps his eyes fixated on his phone.

“This generation’s youth and their phones…” Jake sighed, reaching his head to spy on what Ni-ki was doing. Ni-ki hides his screen away from Jake, only making his hyung wish to see it more.

“You’re the same generation as me.” Ni-ki corrects, still hiding his screen as Jake leans further.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing, Mind your business.” Ni-ki pushes Jake gently back into his seat, and Jake chuckles in return.

“He’s texting Y/n.” Jay notifies Jake, glancing at Ni-ki’s phone from the other side of him. He has a clear image of the screen. Sunoo seems to perk up, suddenly interested.

“Oh.” Jake seems disappointed, “Why are you hiding that?”

Ni-ki didn’t really know why, but something about it was embarrassing for him, “Just bothering you.” Ni-ki smiles sheepishly before returning to his phone.

Sunoo leans forward, taking a look at Ni-ki’s face as he chews on a piece of meat. Ni-ki takes notice of this, snapping his head up nervously.

“What?”

“Nothing, You look happy.” Sunoo smiles, taking another bite of food. “Are you feeling better?” Ni-ki nods at Sunoo’s question, and he smiles back.

“Y/n asked how I was feeling,” Ni-ki admits, picking up his chopsticks and setting down his phone, “He’s really kind.” Ni-ki has trouble getting the words out, yet he wants to say them so bad. He wants to say so much more.

“Yeahhhh,” Sunoo sings, “I can see you guys being really good friends.” He giggles.

“You’re laughing like an evil villain.” Sunghoon teases, Sunoo pushes his shoulder playfully as they both laugh together.

"I can feel cameras on us." Jay groans, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched as he eats. A white flash signals behind them. Someone had caught them, not that they were hiding anything but it was quite annoying to be bothered every time they did anything in public.

Ni-ki leans over, staring at the fan's phone camera dead on. The flash signals again as they take a picture of him. He wasn't too annoyed but he would've felt better if he looked more presentable. He hoped it wouldn't be spread around too much.

He couldn't help but think about how Y/n would react if he saw those photos.

previous | next | home

— koki's note ★ ; OKAYYY another update, happy 4th of july for my american readers ����👍 hope yall have a great day !!

taglist (OPEN) : @conwunder @sol3chu @bubblztaro @winuvs @certainsweetssheep @bayshark @starchasing-cryptid @jaeyuunie @tubatu-lovie @icewons @teoluvsyou @forever-atiny @grumble-0

[yoshinoritoshi]

i humbly request of you a fic of reader pampering ganji cuz he deserves it

Okay I will try my very best 👍 if I get it wrong, just take me out back. You know what to do from there.

Warnings: sfw, gn!reader, none really, it's just cute fluff bye

•

•

Amper for a Pamper

Many hunters can cause various ailments for survivors without actually striking them, you know that very well, so you've become somewhat of an expert at treating those with lasting effects after matches.

Of course, despite your expertise and how many willingly come to you, some are less than keen to admit they need help.

Ganji is one of them, regardless of the fact you've been together for a few months now. He's been like that even before then, so you understand and accept his resistance, but it's gotten to a point you actively can see him twinge whenever he touches anything metal.

The Hermit conducts electricity through all the survivors touching ciphers in a match, so when Ganji decodes in those matches, he gets hurt even if he's all the way across the map... You've experienced it yourself, and it isn't pleasant, the phantom pains and buzzing current stinging you while you try to continue deciphering as much as you possibly can.

After the match, you zapped yourself when opening up a metal doorknob, which is precisely why you recognize the flinching motion Ganji does when he picks up his fork to eat the dinner you made specifically for him.

"They sure kept you late in this last match, hm?" You speak without expecting him to talk back, and he nods in acknowledgement while he feasts away. "I was almost worried you'd be back so late that I'd have to go to bed without you, you know? And I can't sleep with my warmer!"

He huffs at that and you laugh, hugging him from behind, "Come on, you know you enjoy soaking in all the chill from my bones... It's like a balance, I keep you cool, you keep my warm, yeah?"

Pausing mid bite, he takes a moment to think, then nods before he chews thoughtfully as you nuzzle into his neck. Ganji always smells so good after matches, or maybe you're just odd and like his manly smell after he's sweated it out all day fighting for wins in every match. He's so skilled, you're envious, but you know you're never going to compare to him- you're just a maid, after all.

Suddenly, an idea dings in your mind and you lift your face from him so you can instead grab onto his shoulders, "Look at you, so tense..." Going still, he doesn't react for a few moments, before lowering his fork and admitting very quietly to you.

"Yeah..."

That's basically the best you get out of him when it comes to things like this, so you smile and eagerly grab onto his hands, leading him away from the small table to the bed across your shared bedroom.

The arrangement was his idea, surprisingly, though maids have their own quarters... He wanted it, and you agreed, never one to disagree with him when he actually voices his wants. It's so rare!

"Ganji..." You pat the bed and he nods, quickly taking off his shirt before laying on his stomach with his arms underneath his head.

This privilege isn't something you've earned often, in fact, you only did it once before when perhaps a little drunk after Demi wanted to celebrate a difficult win... Ganji didn't even fight against it when you insist you wanted to massage him, though the memories are fuzzy, you recall him relaxing into it like your touch was heavensent.

Pushing up your sleeves, you crawl onto the bed and sit on his lower back just like you did last time, your hands finding his shoulders so you can start to feel him up.

"Hey..." He pipes up after a few moments, and you chuckle, knowing you've been caught.

"Just... appreciating the view, of course." Tenderly, you work your fingers into the muscles underneath them and he immediately moans, lowering his head into his arms as you work.

Firm beyond belief, you really do have to admire his body, strong and littered with scars and stretch marks... Fascinating how even growing muscles stretches one's skin like that, it's wonderful to see, you'd hate it if he was too thin, a man needs meat on his bones.

Grinning to yourself, you shake your head of your sinful thoughts and continue to rub and knead your fingers and knuckles against him, warning his noises of genuine appreciation all the while. Loosening him up will help him in his next matches, you're sure that's how he's justifying this inside his head- he always needs an excuse to indulge himself with you.

Of course, you know he's used to putting up a protective layer of indifference to avoid being seen as intimidating and angry, but you're not sure what's worse for him... People thinking he's mean, or people thinking he doesn't care at all, you just wish he could be himself around them. Even his regular teammates don't get to the rights to see him so relaxed, so you're honored to be the one blessed to view his eyebrows finally relax.

"Look at you, so lovely..." Purring out the words, he groans in response, lifting up his head slightly.

"...'s good..."

The man is exhausted, you don't blame him for not finding much to say, as this is for his benefit after all. You want to make him feel better, and more importantly...

You reach into your pocket and pull out a magnet you borrowed from Norton earlier, holding it in your palm to absorb the lingering currents inside him, just as you did with yourself. It's insanely effective, but you know he wouldn't let you treat him normally, so this is all you could think of.

Careful to make sure he doesn't suspect anything, you keep massaging him until you hear light muffled snores come from his mouth, finally sighing in relief as you relax stop him.

Ganji really does have a nice back, and being on him like this is kinda... Willing yourself out of your stupor, you gently make your way off of him so you can place the magnet on the nightstand before returning to him.

By the time you turn around to the bed though, he's on his side looking at you, though he looks barely conscious. Without a word, he lifts up one arm up to beckon you closer and you immediately join him in bed, ducking close to his chest to absorb all his delicious warmth.

Sleepily, he mumbles into your hair as he rests his chin on your head, "Thank you... love you..."

"It's never a problem, you know that, right?"

"I know..." He says, yet he would never ask for your help with anything, independent as can be.

So you'll just have to help him... even when he doesn't know it.

"I love you too, Gugu!"

"...please don't call me that."

You bark with laughter and he groans in mock annoyance, pushing your face to his chest as he lays his head down to go back to sleep.

[heartless-brainrot]

the button said talk to me so. here’s some headcanons.

I feel like lance is an aussie (or whatever the equivalent is). it might be a stereotype but prove me wrong

Doppel has a very big problem with not looking where he’s running and crashing into things. Glass has to drag him away so that they don’t get caught by the Jury.

River names flowers

Lorelei and Bandy are probably somewhat good friends because she just really likes laughing.

You know those rubber lego necklaces that are for chewing? Lance has a drawer full of them because he tears them apart (but they help when he needs to bite shit)

Expanding off of Bandy and Lorelei, they also have spa days together. Often.

As kids, d/g were both very sleep deprived for very different reasons. It was like. 4 hours minimum per night until they were teens/got used to living on the street

Feel free to add on or add your own hcs(or talk about something different I’m not judging)

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND TO I HAVENT CHECKED MY INBOX IN FOREVER

thank u for talking to me

i think this is the first ask ive gotten lol

i love all ur hcs omg

lance is def an aussie cannon trust (also i dont think this is a styrotype)

also omg river i love you

i dont know how to respond to all of these but just know they are all aproved 👍

idk how good my headcannons are but here are a few

im not sure if this would work in cannon or if this could only be like a modern au thing but i love the idea of doppel having half broken janked up motercycle that he repaired himself. the thing looks like its falling apart and no one else dares to ride it in fear it would collapse under them. hes also jacked the thing to be able to go like 200 mph

heartless is always waring crop tops and refuses to wear a normal shirt. it could be -20 degrees outside and he would still wear one.

river has like a thousand plants in her room

diana has pet tortoises. im not sure what there names are yet.

alchemy has a 1000 different chlothes and outfits. are they organized in anyway? absolutely not. yes they can literally transform whatever clothes they want on but still buy whatever looks cool.

heartless has the most fucked up sleep schedule. he sleeps at the most random times and for random lagths. sometimes hes asleep for 10 minutes and sometimes like a whole 24 hours. you can never tell when hes gona be awake.

i have more but these are all i can think of rn

one agein sorry for not answering this for like a month 😭

[crowcalling]

sigh… the thoughts win, the anons have won too…

here you little shits you wanna enable me? get fucking ice water dumped on you as a reminder of how fucked up I rlly am /aff /nr /nm

Cw for cannibalism, cannibalistic fantasies, dub-con, pressure point usage (idc that he’s a skeleton I’ll HC whatever the fuck I want <3), temporary paralysis, technically torture?, Sadism, Consent withdrawn, etc

nothing sexual going on tho so yeah 👍

ALSO THIS IS NOT BE CONDONING THIS IN ANY WAY. these are just really fucked up shit that goes through my head most likely due to me being a sociopath and mentally unwell person so yeah.

lemme know if there’s any other warnings it needs.

There’s been too many thoughts and fantasies in my mind recently of doing absolutely horrid shit to Ink, more specifically cannibalistic thoughts bc I’ve had those since I was a kid-

but just rlly clear visualization of Ink beneath me, it’s sweet at first gentle bites to his neck, just basic cuddling, etc.. But then it shifts to an unfortunately all to family feeling of craving just to fucking HURT something, and he’s right. There.

His sweet scent and taste right there and so easy to just.. destroy. While he’s completely relaxed and unaware.

And when those urges hit me I can’t even fucking stop and it gets so bad to where I bite myself at times, but why would I need to do that when his pretty bones are right there on display?

I could just slither my hands up and down and hit juust the right pressure points to make him lock up with a whine of confusion due to the temporary paralysis settling in and, leaving him vulnerable.

All the while I get to bite down to my sadistic hearts content and listen to the sweet sound of his clavicle beginning to crunch under the harsh treatment.

The addictive marrow and inky ‘blood’ seeping into my jaws as I just keep biting, and biting, and biting.

The sounds of his whines as he pleads softly to stop, that it hurts, however all falling to an audience of deaf ears.

My teeth are use to crunching bones, every time I eat something with bones inside, I eat it, no matter how thick the bone is I still manage to consume it and reduce it to nothing.

So his, are nothing but light work.

Breaking off his clavicle and taking a bit to crunch and chew before swallowing down the sweetly addictive substance of his magic. The gasp of pain and tremble through his bone as I move to the next spot.

Tracing his pretty patterns on his bones that almost look like porcelain with how beautiful he is, but oh how much more beautiful would he look if I just decided to rip that all up~

His ecto shimmering underneath that’s so desperately trying to dispel as I press my claws rough against the faux flesh, like he’s a present, that was about to get the wrapping torn off.

Cooing false comforts as I keep digging my nails into the flesh, the blood welling between my fingers and I can’t help but imagine how stunning his false organs would look if I tore them out and engorged in his liver..

Eventually moving away back to biting and eating away at his bones; things like his ulna parts of his spine, neck, etc.

All so deliciously irresistible.

Perfect for consumption.

[sarcophagid]

Tell me about the vampire au.... pls

haii hello myfriend ♥ it's still a bit half baked but here's my process so far for nnxv vampire au

overall it's a bit more heavy than dice game i think but not necessarily more serious i guess lol. i always see dice game as their natural dynamic and the aus as forays into alternatives that are skewed one way or the other

NN:

the initial idea was that nathaniel could work well with a general idea of hunger-corruption-necessity, and how nathaniel works well with blood as a symbol for bonds and society.

^ i was also testing to see if i could write nathaniel without as strong of a religious influence, and to see if there was other ways to convey the similar themes of large scale control, exploitation, and the potential for people to turn against each other (this in itself lent itself pretty nicely to a vampire story but i think it may just be overlap in cultural ideas of monsters in general 🤔)

^ so while i'm not 100% solid on this idea i was going to try setting the norwell's as the owners of a meat processing plant (want to try something about ethics, corruption, and eating as well... love to bite off more than i can chew)

so yeah going with his apparently unavoidable misfortune he does get turned into a vampire... i thought itd be fun if the vampirism was initially assumed to be a foodborne disease caused by unhygienic working conditions. it also mirrors how in the original, he assumes his status can shield him from the suffering of the common people but it eventually comes back to bite him anyways

i do not know what vampire biology rules i'm following but the main thing is that vampires, being undead, can't die from most ordinary means - circumventing wounds with a high healing factor. so ingesting the blood can have healing properties in small doses. i pulled that from my ass for the sake of the plot 👍

for funsies - i cannot divorce yidhra from nano so he is still snake themed… i just think it'd be cute and fun if he could turn into a little white snake or smth instead of a bat. one of those skinny dinky white snakes. he can hang out on xxvs neck like a scarf ok. my vision.

XXV:

i have a bit less planning for xxv and some of this leans on his older characterization/is ooc for dice game xxv

xxv here is the very old equivalent of a medical student (idk what time this is set so sorry for vagueness...) and his issue is once again a social/bureaucratic stalemate, where he flounders in academia - there's pressure to report relevant, significant findings which he can't easily obtain, and portions of his work are credited to others.

this time, his ultimate (probably unattainable) dream is to devise a panacea of sorts. im still tweaking whether he wants this for the 'greater good' or because he himself is terrified of dying, but it's probably something he grapples with himself 🤔.

^ xxv is slightly inspired by xu xuan here, a physician whose story involves a pill of immortality that gets ingested by the white snake spirit bai suzhen. i dont think there's any major thematic similarities though 😔 i just did it to look cool

it's xxv who finds nano soon after he turns, and while deeply unsettled by the blood drinking, he notes that his injury recovery and physical durability is beyond ordinary human capability. he refrains from pointing him to a legitimate hospital, instead claiming to be a more experienced doctor than he is, offering to investigate and treat his 'illness'.

being unable to live a normal life and assumed dead, nathaniel does not initially have qualms about the arrangement, as he doubts his ability to individually find victims to feed, and believes he has the better deal, taking advantage of xxv's naivety and reliable access to blood.

this assumption shortly fades as xxv looks into nathaniels past life, finding a string of rumours on instating cruel and abusive disciplinary measures during his post at the factory, reports that had seeped out only after his death. xxv grows increasingly paranoid about keeping nathaniel in his study, despite the promising outlook from testing his blood. he takes measures to restrain him, maintaining physical distance, and having him wear a mouthguard over his teeth. when feeding him, he makes him drink it like a broth using a spoon to maintain a 'necessary sense of humanity'. over time, xxv begins restricting the areas of the study nathaniel can access, and removes all the clocks to obfuscate the day/night cycle.

meanwhile, from xxv's mannerisms and the personal details he discusses, nathaniel makes the deduction that xxv is himself deeply dissatisfied and had determined his low status early on. this assumption is solidified when he overhears an exchange between xxv and his supervisor. he posits the idea that xxv's overcontrolling behaviour was a means to compensate for the lack of power in his own life - it was easy to punch down on someone reliant on him for basic needs. his idea was that they were similar in what they did.

^ so theres this issue of xxv denying a similarity, as he was only taking 'precautions' to danger, and reacting to a real transgression in his life. nathaniel seems to imply the appeal of cruelty as natural and human, whereas xxv doesn't see it as the same thing at all.

ok idk how to end it so thats all i got so far 👐 in my head it's an essence where xxv gets an a tier and nathaniel gets a b tier but idk who gets s tier... vampire hunter itha maybe. who knows.

hope it was fun yayayy

[rjam9]

had some questions about my pfp picks earlier so hey! here’s the yearly art review thing i do. i think this is the first time i’ve posted one of these here but first time for everything. i don’t post my art much anymore but it is smth i do for fun so i do like doing these comparison things every year. even if i always post them late lmao.

speaking of — i am aware that things have been quiet from me lately and that is bc of Many Fucking Things™️ i will not get into right now. however! i want to take the opportunity to talk about the status of some of my projects going on rn for anyone who is interested. :)

don’t bite off more than you can chew

still active! chp15 is about 3/4 of the way done and it will be out by the end of January! i promise that this time i am actually going to get it out on time since my goal is to have the fic completed by next fall so i can start part three of this series (we gonna move up in the world tonight) before 2026. the current outline is still around 25chps so HOPEFULLY this is doable. as always ty for everyone’s patience on this i am trying yall.

soldier, poet, king (new edition)

also still active! chp5 is no where near to being done, but bc of the unknown status of S3 and the Gaiman stuff i’ve been putting it off. i still intend to finish it and continue on w the series but as i have made it clear fuck that guy 👍 this fic was never for him it was basically just for me and me alone. and whoever decides to read it appreciate you all. unfortunately i can also not give u a timeframe except once again, want to get this fic done by the fall.

the cause-and-effect of lunistice and libration

my next big project after i get thru the fics above. it’s gonna be the 4th fic in my Moon Knight series and the current draft is 3chps. this one is actually completely drafted and i had all intentions to start working on it like half a year ago until some real life stuff happened and i switched over to other projects + i was kinda waiting to see if we got any news on a S2. that’s prolly not happening but this fic still is! eventually.

untitled fnaf & little nightmares oneshots

trust me when i say that i am always thinking about these guys. especially since LN3 should be coming out this year & i am desperately desperately trying to get my fnaf (now very late) 10YR anniversary video out. nothing is concrete/drafted/planned yet but i am holding your hand when i say this but i am so insane over these pieces of media it is not funny.

another untitled project that i won’t talk about rn but trust me when i say i will be annoying about it

have u ever wanted to see me mix my fanfiction and university degree together. bc that is kinda the whole basis for this fic. can’t tell u anything more bc of personal reasons but uhhhhhh. :)

[hitheeprithee]

Theo (and Mochi if you would please tag her) I am going to hunt you both for sport whAT did I just experience. What do you MEAN you decided to take the sand from 3rd life and use it as a metaphor for how deeply unstabilized Scar would be if he was transported from the end of the game and into DL I am going to hunt you BOTH!!!

The rewriting of the pond scene, how its reflected parallel to what really happened with minor differences up until the kiss is just. So beautiful. I feel so normal about it actually. The SURGE of affection they both held and how it seems to be keeping the bloodlust at bay, how they refuse to part more than a few inches to breathe. What if. And hear me out. I went insane. GOD and the way Grian is written, determined and resolute but s, so tired and full of despair at even the thought of killing Scar. How they mightve ignored the ghosts this time if not for the Watchers’ intervention. What if I chewed on yall. What then.

The way he wakews up and the disorientation of those paragraphs is so well done too. I really love that like, obviously we have familiarity with Double Life, we know whats going on, but the textual disorientation helps us parallel how Scar is feeling and really get into his mindset. How its so much easier to accept him putting up walls around Bdubs and Impulse because we’re coming into it from the perspective of 3rd life. And I love how the tone of the text surges in the cave when Scar goes to find Grian and bumps into Jimmy instead followed by Joel and Etho. It really crescendos into the build up and following fight between him and Joel. Its done SO well. Chewing on them.

I cannot wait to see Grian in all this. Is he ignoring the other games exist – tucking that kiss into the back of his mind so he doesn’t have to think about it? Is this a grian who lived through both 3rd and last life and is reeling from the way those games ended – different from reality and yet biting? A Grian who remembers Wizard Scar, and deals, and crystals – SO many crystals – who's about to find a soulmate who only remembers a kiss in the lake? Can you tell I’m going fucking insane actually??????????? AAAAAA

@mochiwrites get in here and sob with me about this

AAAAA BELLE!!!!!!

I am SO glad you enjoyed the sand metaphor we had simply so much fun with that one <3

the pond scene.....the pond scene <3 the first thing we wrote together and still, I think, my favorite part of the chapter. I'm really glad you enjoy 3rd life Grian... :) for no reason in particular.

SO GLAD you like the pacing we kept being. completely shocked at how well it panned out sdkfds. Fun fact we did not have to edit for continuity or pacing. Which I still. don't understand fully. idk how we did that but slkdfj 👍 I'm really glad it paid off so well!!

We genuinely wanted to end with dl! Grian in this chapter, I'm SO excited to get to his stuff, but as the word count got higher and higher we realized we needed to split our outline lolol. So. look forward to some further Grian action v soon :>

I am shaking u Belle I love your inbox essays SO MUCH I'm so glad you're enjoying our lil project <3

[ectopuppy]

i had a major thumb sucking problem as a kid like i didn't stop until i was in first grade and even then only because i was bribed with

✨her✨

(who my childhood bestie barfed orange crush and ketchup chips on several years later and had to be thrown out due to the horrible neon orange tinge she took on and i will never forgive him for this)

but as many know, its far more simple to replace a habit than break one which is why i instead began chewing on my fingers

anyway i wanted to make a post about how often i look down at my hands and think to myself "what the fuck when did i bite my hand. why are the multiple bite marks" and decided it needed context so here it is post over 👍

[leatherbookmark]

ohhhh found the scene after Millennia of searching.

o

k

a

y.

[base0h]

Hi Bozo! So I'm here to request Ace, Zoro and Kid hcs reacting to finding out their s/o eats like a pig | ahem I meant Luffy - feel free to ignore this if you wouldn't enjoy writing it (well I mean it's pretty much weird 💀) I've been reading all your posts and I'm loving it 😁

a/n - Hi error! Tysm for reading! I’m so happy that you like them 🥺🥺 and oml pls this is hilarious- 💀 (ngl I feel like ace eats like this too sometimes- just saying 👀)

Warnings ⚠️ - food, g/n reader

Ace

- we all know he eats like this too 💀

- boy understands

- he’ll hype you up like-

- “GO Y/N YEA-!” *face plants into food*

- He doesn’t mind it much, I mean at first it was kind of a shock-

- He immediately thought of Luffy when he saw you eating

- But he also finds it endearing

- another adorable thing about you!!

- He wants to make sure you don’t like- choke or anything but-

- He’s completely fine with you stuffing your face with food 🥺

- As long as you’re eating he’s happy

- if you start choking on your food- he’ll start panicking and trying to do cpr right away

- ends up making it worse 😭

- pls he’s having a heart attack he had to throw Marco at you to help you lmao 💀

- honestly you might have to worry about him while you two are eating together

- he’ll fall asleep mid-swallow and just start choking on his food WHILE sleeping

- 💀 dunno how he does it but he does

- pls help this man not die

Kid

- so you two are eating right?

- all’s well until he watches you eat

- kid: wtf. 💀

- Man’s so fucking confused

- like what-

- Nah this ain’t real right???

- he kinda thinks it’s gross like- even HE doesn’t eat like that-

- but it’s you so-

- He kind of tries to ignore it the best he can

- when you start choking on your food he ain’t gonna help you (fuck you kid)

- “your fault for stuffing it down your throat-“

- bitch they’re choking to death pls help them 💀

- honestly he doesn’t give a shit

- you do you and he’ll do him-

- As long as you chew with your mouth closed he’s fine with it

- it’s his biggest pet peeve when someone chews with their mouth open

- just never do that.

- ever

- also if you share your food with him that makes him so soft 😭

- like- he feels so happy that you’d want to share your food with him 🥺

- “here kid- take some meat!”

- *buffering* “what? Why.”

- “Because I’m giving it to you?”

- he’s so confused 💀 just take the fucking meat Kid

- sharing food with him makes him sooooo happy- make sure to do that :D

Zoro

- instant thoughts and memories of Luffy when he sees you eat like that

- honestly he’s impressed you can eat as fast as Luffy

- he wants to see a contest between you two 💀

- he’s the same way but with alcohol so he can’t rlly criticize you-

- Zoro literally takes pride in you that you can eat a bowl of noodles faster than Luffy

- AND that you can also cook really good meals like Sanji

- like- he’s actually supporting you lmao

- if you and Luffy ever compete he’s 10000000% on your side to win

- u better win before Nami breaks his neck in half for taking her money to bet on it 👀

- if you start choking on your food while you’re swallowing a big bite, he’ll think it’s a joke at first

- like “oh yeah if y/n’s clawing at their neck and struggling to breathe air, that means y/n’s completely fine” 🗿

- “y/n, that’s not gonna work, stop jokin’ around.”

- once you dropped to the floor, clutching your neck and your face starting to turn blue- that’s when he started to freak out

- “Y/n! WHY DID YOU STUFF THAT HUGE BITE DOWN?! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO CHEW DUMBASS!”

- chopper saved you

- 👍

- just don’t ever choke in front of him again pls 😭

a/n - pls this was so funny istg 💀 idk why it took me so long to respond to this ask tho 😭 sorry error!!

<3

[raindrvq]

mischa headcanon time !!

except its all just me projecting random things onto him wooooo

ik i already said he was lactose intolerant but also wanna mention that (like most lactose intolerant ppl) he just does not care. can and will eat a shit ton of dairy and someone will be like 'hey isn't that gonna mess up your stomach?' n hes just like 'lol yea'

weird abt eye contact so sometimes he wont be looking at you during a conversation but sometimes hes just, intensely stare at you, for like no reason. if u ask abt it he'll just shrug but it can be very frightening when you dont notice and all of a sudden you turn and see him just like 😶

will also creepy stare at you if he wants to stop doing something without having to actually say that

for example he hates when people make mouth noises (like loud chewing) so he will just stare at you until you get creeped out n stop

he is trans (real not fake) !!!!!

gets dysphoric over like, small insignificant things but will try n correct it in order to fele more masc

like the way he stands (started putting his hands in his pockets and yes doing the dick grab), how he writes (purposefully writes fast so its more scribbly n messy), how he takes off his shirt (pulling it up from the back of his neck) and other random things that do not rly matter

also type of guy to try out multiple diy binding methods bc theres no way his adoptive parents r buying him one (they probably dont even know hes trans tbh) and he definitely wont ask so instead he resorts to other (probably unsafe) methods

hates when his hair gets even a little too long bc not only does it make him dysphoric but he also hates the feeling of hair in his face or down his neck n shoulders

if he goes too long without a haircut he will just end up putting it up but he learns how to rock the ponytail (without feeling dysphoric too 👍)

also he is ace,,,, bc im ace and i want him to be i have no explanation for this one idc if it doesn't make sense he's ace in my heart

constantly has his earbuds in, likes to be constantly be blasting music and has a hard time working without it (he needs the constant stimulation)

loves to chew on things as a form of stimming

straws ? bottle caps ? pens ? destroyed

loves to eat ice as well (this one is more encouraged bc he wont be accidentally consuming plastic this way)

if he cannot find anything to chew on sometimes he just ends up biting his lips n the inside of his cheeks and he has sharp teeth so his mouth is just kinda messed up

secretly rly likes legos

he will spend hours just building bc he will get fixated on it now he has to finish it

also he is a batman fan but he is NOT a comic dudebro joker stan ok

he loves collecting things he deems sentimental

like a ticket stub from when the choir went to see a movie together ? keeping it. a random pretty rock someone found and gave to him ? keeping it

keeps all of them in a little box in his room

ok this was longer than i intended so im stopping it here for now ! ill will probably post some about the whole choir i just had a lot of mischa ones bc projection 🫶

[nsmhrniki]

✰ to be rewarded w/ a kiss (2/2)！,,

WARNINGS: cussing, suggestive stuff on kenny's part but nothing really happens LMAO, mention of the word "piss" 😧

PAIRING/S: kenny, cartman x reader [ platonic // romantic ]

PRONOUNS: they/them (gender neutral)

GENRE: fluff fluff fluff, sort of crack on kenny's part because

REQUESTED: yes // no (@buffandpuff)

A/N: god i'm finally doneskhs. cartman's is sorta different than the others since it's not reader trying to help him study but im kinda proud of his part 😯 i can finally update my masterlist

here's kyle's and stan's 👍

mccormick, kenny ✰ !

the bell had just rang and you immediately rushed towards kenny's side, nudging him a bit as his head slightly tilts towards you as a way of saying "i'm listening", even with his eyes trained in front of him.

"kenny, quiz right? i'll help u study"

"y/n i really dont ca-"

"2 pm, my house."

you toddle away to your own locker, leaving kenny to mope about how "he doesn't care." it was science; the periodic table. he's only stupid enough to fail that class (and fail the others too). it's been on his mind all day, his eyes drooping in exaggerated pettiness until they drastically widen, as if a light bulb just lit on.

study?? at your house?? for sure, you mean....,, do you? for god you two are glued and drawn together like magnets. he's not sure what your motive is, to confess, or whether it's truly, hopefully like in cliché movies when a couple– when someone invites their partner to "study."

only you two aren't a couple, at least not yet–that's gonna change today!!!!

"you got me to walk all the way here just for you to lend me your books?"

"did you prefer me walking to yours? how ungentlemanly."

"you have a wholeass bike" "that's nothing."

"oh and those aren't the school books they're more of just like summarized stuff i wrote, like way less complicated and easier to study"

"can you at least let me in? i hate to walk like two blocks just to go back after like, i don't know 2 minutes?"

"it's been thre- you know what just get in here. my parents aren't home anyway."

that one line sparks kenny, and if it were possible, his tail would have been startled high and wagging furiously.. giddily, he steps in his delight. you sigh as you reluctantly close the door

"you know where my room is."

this is it!!!

"in the meantime i'll go wash the cherries to eat." ... "what's with that face? go or beat it."

kenny huffs and does as he was told,, dragging his misery and pettiness behind him as it leaves a trail up the stairs.

"y/n i literally hate cherries you know that"

"come on just a bite, my aunt handpicked them!!"

"no"

"i promise you wont regret it"

giving into you practically shoving the cherry into his mouth, he bites it off the stem and uneagerly chews. eyes dramatically squinted with eyebrows quirked in such a way that they put a two-year-old's effort to write a straight line to shame.

"i do regret it–and i also regret being here"

"well if you pass this quiz then you won't and i'll help you with that!", you say confidentally, plopping your books on your table with a force, causing it to shake a little. in an instant, you flip through your pages and stop by the exact lesson the two of you need to study

"you just want a study buddy because if you don't have one you get distracted and completely neglect what you needed to do"

"NOT true, let's get started before i shove all these cherries in your mouth."

it's been a day after that, and right now kenny is staring at the piece of paper you've given to him before you shoved him out your door. telling him to figure that out before quiz day and that he BETTER does because it's easy as hell. and even with that he only decided to think about it an hour before science class

"i dont know what she means man"

after a few seconds of silence kyle finally has it figured out.

"it's a code dude! you gotta make out what it says by their- short forms or whatever i dont know!"

"i thought that too but what she wants me to piss if i pass??? pass equals piss, what??"

...

"dude, try a little harder, alright? get that figured out and you won't regret it."

with that, kyle walks away.

psh, regret. that's what you said too and he sure as hell regrets it. he turns to stare at the peice of paper again...

Phosphorus, Arsenic, Sulfur, Sulfur = Potassium, Iodine, Sulfur, Sulfur

what...does that...mean.. 😰

poor kenny had already given up, handing you the paper awkwardly and confessing his failure.

"god kenny you're so dumb what i meant to say is i'll kiss you properly if you pass!!"

"what..." it's only now that it hits him, reminded that you kissed the side of his mouth before handing him that dumb peice of paper.

"so go ahead and prove it to me that i didn't waste my time trying to teach you!! although you sorta gave that away already thinking potassium is P"

"is it really MY fault that the table tricked me into thinking the short forms are just the first letters of the elements???"

"youre just dumb. no kiss for you."

"NO no i can do this, trust me y/n. watch me"– and that's when your professor hands you the quiz papers. kenny's eyebrows knitted in what you can't figure out as either nervousness or concentration.

he ends up being 3 points away from failure though and you still kiss him because that was your plan anyway 😋

cartman, eric ✰ !

"eric, please at least pass this one quiz and i'll let you off the hook."

"mom!"

"just ONE quiz, eric. please?? this is really important and i dont know why you keep failing all your tests but just this one time i need you to pass this!. it's important and your teacher himself texted me to remind you about it. eric??"

"but..." his voice comes off as meek–far from what he intended. or overall just not what he intended at all

"eric? is there someone, or something bothering you? you know you can tell me anything, you dont need to hide from me."

"u-um,,, y/n! yeah! theyre bothering me and i cant study because of it! theyre really scary, mom!"

nothing but silence from the other door, cartman finally pushes his jacket down in relief.

he has no idea why he chose you, but any student would have been enough to trick her. any student that comes to his mind first

little will he admit you dont just come to his mind first but have been in his mind all day, every day, and he doesnt remember how or when it started. its starting to get,, annoying?????

you're the only person cartman leaves alone, like just not bothers that much in comparison to the others. you can't lay a finger on it. you presume it's because of how you're the only one who cares about him, passing him your school notes even when he literally will not use them (but keeps them anyway for like a day), sharing your food and end up having only two or three bites left, lending to help him with injuries because he doesn't want to go to the nurse's office, etc. and that is exactly why liane loves you, and at that point just mistook you two as best friends when really you're not.

he walked up to you one day during lunch and grabbed you by the shoulders to turn to him, staring at you intently with a threatening scowl as if you've just thrown him the biggest earth-shattering insult ever. your shoulders tense and your eyebrows furrow in confusion, you remain silent.

"you! i dont know what you did to me but you better put this spell out or you're dead!"

from that day on, he's been calling you witch,, holding the "you hexed me" card to your face until he shapes it into some sort of spear to annoyingly stab you on the daily,,,thirteen times minimum

really he's just finding an excuse to "talk to you." but i dont think he's aware of that. neither will he ever admit that in that case.

cartman felt he had his mother wrapped around his little finger when he claimed you scare him, which was undoubtedly ridiculous in her sense. liane had to speak with you. she makes it clear that she doubts you scare him, of all people. It may be because cartman isn't used to being cared for; when it's his mother, he denies any concern. you'll never get the answer out of him

you promised to mrs cartman you'd find a way to convince him to study for this test, and she trusted you.

when oh where in his life would he expect you to pull him to a more secluded area in the hall not even a minute after class was dismissed, pecking him on the corner of his mouth while your hands are wrapped around the collar of his jacket.

"pass the quiz and i'll kiss you properly."

he's left on the same spot, confused but rather more stupefied.

he's juggled between purposely failing the quiz or even putting an effort to pass it but the balls keeps slipping from his hands and eyes can't focus on that ball and this ball.

he, for some reason he still doesn't know, did study. eric cartman, studying.

and he doesn't know, and at this point he doesn't want to know.

he did pass, and everyone was beyond stunned. so later that day he'd find you in the halls and out of nowhere snatch you from whatever business you have and look at you dead in the eye.

"i passed, bitch. and i'm waiting."

he supposes he mistook this "spell" as a curse, could it have been a blessing? there's no way, he's still in denial about it. but he doesn't mind having a witch like you maybe make his life a little better.

(he cheated)

㊎ all rights reserved to @/nsmhrniki. please do not copy/repost

Reblogs are appreciated !

[killemwithkawaii]

Hey Mitch, what made LSS essentially choose your S/I's over Ashley? I mean, aside from the fact that LSS and your character are soulmates?

What caused LSS to fall out of love with Ashley?

[CW: Unreality, general spoilers for the 'Meet the Fishers' AU]

Three main reasons L.S.S. chose to be with my s/is instead of Ash:

Sals feelings for Ashley in his original timeline were based on a love-at-first-sight teenage crush. It's clear that those feelings lingered throughout high school and that Sal and Ash became closer as the years went by, but it's up for debate as to whether Ash returned his romantic feelings or simply had a strong platonic bond with him. I think Sal still had some hope that they would get together during the first half of CH4, but still very much cherished his friendship with her and was okay if that was how their relationship would stay. After the murders and subsequent events in chapter 5, I don't think a romantic relationship would have been an realistic option for them because A. Ash had taken so long to accept the truth about what had happened, believing Sal was mentally ill and delusional until it was much too late to do anything to save him despite all the crazy shit she'd seen going on beforehand (which probably felt like a betrayal, even if Sal understood why she didn't believe his reasoning before proof was staring her in the face), and B. Sal was dead and could only interact with the original Ashley through a telepathic link and inhabiting her own arm. I could see him feeling uncomfortable with basically being a parasite in Ashs body and not really wanting to overstay his welcome any time he popped back into his original universe (not that it absolutely couldn't work! I've seen some very creative and cute AUs exploring that dynamic 👍)

Even if L.S.S. got the chance to get together with alternate versions of Ash, I think he'd feel strange about going through with it, given his current relationship with the original Ash. It might be different if she had died, but just imagine him popping back to the original timeline for a check-in and saying 'oh yeah btw Ash I totally dated and made sweet, sweet love with you in a different timeline just so you know.' It would probably be really awkward for both of them (if not a total violation of their friendship), and he'd probably feel even worse if he did that and kept it a secret, so he just doesn't.

On the flip side, Penpal!Mitch believed Sals story (which was somehow way more insane-sounding than the original) right off the bat, accepted him for everything he was (good and bad), and showed him kindness and mercy despite being a complete stranger to him at the time. It could easily be argued that she was just a gullible true-crime fanatic with a passion for prison reform that ended up biting off way more than she could chew, but it still really touched Sal for someone to believe him and be unafraid of him, even affectionate with him, while knowing all the horrible things he'd been forced to do. Plus, she showed up at the right time- L.S.S. was experiencing his first big immortal rut (feeling isolated, misunderstood, that he was a failure and that there wasn't really a point in doing all this) when he got her first letter, and it gave him something more to keep 'living' for (besides the endless search for the original Larry and trying to take down all the different versions of the D.O.G. he comes across while universe hopping. It's a pretty thankless, fruitless job- can you really blame him for picking up what he thinks will be a nice little side quest to lighten things up a bit..?).