#they can be managed and treated but they Are and there's not really enough science to know how to Change it

[kayforpay]

I think the worst thing about mental health is that the answers really aren't that satisfying. like it is entirely true that the brain is a millions-of-years culmination of chemistry and biology that makes it so that we interpret electrical signals and hormonal oozes as words, images and feelings, and that because of how many discreet and interconnected parts required for it to run and how it must simply run all the time it makes mistakes.

but that's not really satisfying to know.

#kay talks a lot #neurology and psychology are frustrating sciences even to be at my little baby level of knowledge in #at least with like infectious illness you can go 'oh Because of this. which has a solution' #immune illnesses also are unsatisfying because they simply Are #they can be managed and treated but they Are and there's not really enough science to know how to Change it #idk #I just said the princess in the thunderdome thing so maybe I should hang up my hat for tonight

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 | laszlo kreizler x reader

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | being a traditional, well-behaved woman, you saved yourself for marriage. but the things your new husband has planned for you are... less than traditional, and might just show how poorly behaved you can be.

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | over 9k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | SMUT (18+ only!!), virginity loss, age gap (unspecific; laszlo is in his 40s, reader is probably 20-25), multiple orgasms/overstimulation, fingering, oral f receiving, squirting, shy/innocent reader, religious reader (but nothing tooo shame-y or anything), some innocence kink, a hint of medical kink?, slightly pervy laszlo?!?! (moreso he's just a wee bit of a weirdo and says some cringe stuff but like. that's just his vibe sorry)

Laszlo was such an impossible paradox of a man.  Especially compared to the sort of man you always thought you’d marry— what you’d been raised for, even.

An accomplished doctor, a successful and wealthy man of high social standing— a kind, sensitive, intelligent, and patient partner who made you feel beautiful and special and, for lack of a better word, fancy.  That part was exactly as you’d always imagined for yourself, though you had never really believed you could find someone so wonderful.

And then there was the other half of him, the pieces that even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never thought would make up your future husband.  First of all, he was quite a bit older than you.  Even your parents, who had always preferred for you to marry someone already established (as they put it) rather than your own age, were a little concerned that he was in his mid-forties, and only a year younger than your father.  Of course, that was nothing compared to their offense at his profession, and the subsequent open-mindedness he had towards people your parents would rather pretend didn’t exist.  Then again, Laszlo himself having his disability made him the sort of person they would rather pretend didn’t exist, though he’d managed to hide it relatively well.

Maybe they could’ve forgiven any of that.  It was the atheism that put the final nail in the coffin, unfortunately… and someone as brash and unapologetic as Laszlo had no interest in hiding his beliefs to appease your parents.  He hadn’t brought it up, of course, or protested to the crucifixes and cross-stitched scriptures on the walls; but when they’d asked if he was Catholic or Protestant, he told them directly that he was a man of science and didn’t entertain any metaphysical notions or, as he’d so thoughtfully put it, fantasies.

They instantly forbade the courtship and warned you never to see him again.  And maybe that was when he surprised you most— he was so romantic, so… dashing.  He took a carriage to your home and literally threw pebbles at your window, daring you to climb down the lattice and join him for a midnight adventure.  It was then he suggested that you marry him anyways— he had more than enough to take care of you after a disownment from your parents.  He promised to give you anything you wanted, to treat you perfectly, to spend every day trying to keep you as happy as you made him without even trying.

There it was again, the contradictory enigma of Laszlo Kreizler.  A serious, even stern man, proposing to you like a lovestruck teenager.  He had eschewed fantasies a few evenings ago only to turn around and ask you to jump headfirst into a fairytale.

You said yes, though.  You really didn’t think twice about it— you knew he would be good to you.  And you knew you’d never loved someone like you’d loved him before.

You wanted to run away right then and there, but he told you to go home for a few more days, to gather your things— he would send for them while your parents were out, and you could move in with him as soon as you were ready.

When you did move in, though, he seemed a little surprised that you asked for your things to be moved to a spare bedroom.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you softly, stepping closer to you as you crossed your arms over yourself nervously; you waited until you were sure Cyrus was out of earshot, carrying your bags away, before you answered.

“Yes,” you replied quietly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s understandable if you’re feeling conflicted now,” Laszlo assured.  “Having just left your parents, and not knowing if you’ll see them again—”

“It’s not that,” you promised.  “Well— of course, I feel something about that, but I’m happy to be here with you.  That’s not my issue at all.”

“Then what is?” he pressed.  “I hope you feel that you can tell me.”

You sighed as he reached up to brush your cheek; his touch always soothed you, though it felt a bit different here, in his home.  Your new home.  “I just… wouldn’t feel right about being in your room, until we’re married.”

He nodded.  “Of course.  I shouldn’t have presumed.”

You smiled a little, though it was more out of nervousness than anything.  “I… I wondered if you thought my parents were the only reason that we never— that nothing had—”

“Shh,” he soothed, pushing your hair back from your face until you looked up at him.  “I don’t expect anything from you now.  Well, only that you do whatever you like to make yourself feel at home here.”

“And what… what will you expect from me once I am your wife, Dr. Kreizler?” 

Though you were a little afraid to, you met his gaze; his brown eyes seemed deeper than ever, and you were powerless to look away from them.  “What do you think is right to give me, when you are my wife?”

You sighed a little, feeling his hand on your cheek move carefully down to your neck, his gentle fingers brushing along the smallest part of your collarbone exposed by your dress.  Words escaped you; you wanted him to know that just because you wanted to wait for him didn’t mean you didn’t want him.  Even before, even when you first met him, your mind had supplied you with thoughts that sent you straight to the confession booth.

You wanted to be one with him in every way you could think of… you just needed some to come before others, to feel right with your own beliefs.  Even if you loved an atheist, and felt surprisingly little guilt for it, you were still religious yourself and wanted to honor God’s intention for marriage.  

Didn’t mean you couldn’t yearn for your soon-to-be husband, right?  It certainly didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the full benefits of physical intimacy when the time came.

But obviously, you were far from brave enough to say all that.  Instead, you found your hands wandering to his chest, following the pattern of his suit coat up to his shoulders, biting your lip without even realizing it.  He simply continued to watch you, and you got the feeling that he understood you better than you could explain it yourself.  One of the bonuses of being loved by an expert on the human mind, perhaps.

You were almost in a trance, not noticing how long you were spending just gently touching and holding him in this simple way— until you looked up and met his gaze again, and felt a little weak.  “Can we marry soon?” you asked softly, almost under your breath.  You hoped he wouldn’t tease you, you weren’t secure enough for him to mock your obvious eagerness, to call attention to your desire for him.  Thankfully, he stayed perfectly serious, because he was just as affected as you were.

“As soon as you like,” he replied earnestly.

It was probably for the best that Cyrus walked in to the parlor at that moment, and you instinctively pulled back from Laszlo, crossing your arms again.  “Your bags are in the downstairs bedroom, madam,” he informed you, “down the hallway under the stairs.”

You nodded at him as Laszlo responded, “Thank you, Cyrus.  That will be all.”

He left, and you looked at your fiance again, feeling a bit silly for what he’d seen in you a moment before.  But he smiled at you, and you figured he’d be the last person to judge you for any of that.  “I’ll give you a little time to unpack and freshen up, if you like,” he offered.  “I hope you’ll join me for dinner at seven this evening.  I believe we’ll be having quail.”

“Of course— thank you,” you smiled, watching him begin to turn to depart.  But for a second, he hesitated— like he didn’t want to leave you— and you prayed he wouldn’t kiss you.  It’s not that you didn’t want him to… you wanted him to more than anything.  He’d only kissed you once before, at the end of a particularly exhilarating night out together, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a moment since.

So no, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to kiss you.  It was only that, if he did, you knew you’d have trouble letting it be just a kiss.

Therefore, you were just as relieved as you were disappointed when he departed without incident.

///

A few days later, you eloped.  You hadn’t felt much urge to have a ‘proper’ wedding when no one you knew approved of the marriage anyway— they were all too deep in your parents’ pocket, unfortunately.  And even if anyone cared enough to come, Laszlo refused to be wed in a church (you thought maybe he would bend on it if you really begged, he was overall quite accommodating to you, but it wasn’t worth your trouble) and so it would’ve just been another scandal.  

Truly, you were just as happy this way— it was the happiest day of your life, really.  You left the courthouse as Mrs. Kreizler, wearing a stunning silver band he’d had engraved with your new initials and flowering vines all around in a swirling, whimsical pattern.  His band was simpler, but you loved it even more— just because it was his, and seeing him wearing it made your heart skip all day.

Anticipation for your wedding night only grew with every passing moment.  Laszlo himself was in the bathroom with the door shut— you heard the sink running, the various sounds of him preparing for bed.  You were just trying to get your heart to slow down, trying not to have any specific goals or expectations for the evening.  Today had already been perfect.

But, of course, it was hard not to imagine what was next for the two of you— your things had already been moved into his room.  A vanity had been placed in it as well, a wedding gift from Sara Howard (a friend of Laszlo’s you had become acquainted with during this whirlwind romance), and you were using it now as you prepared yourself for bed.  You were already in your nightgown, having changed after Laszlo left the room (not that you had to, but it felt more natural that way), and you were carefully unpinning your hair from its meticulous style.

As you concluded the final steps of your evening routine, you saw the bathroom door open behind you in your reflection; your husband emerged, wearing an embroidered silk robe that offered a view of a sliver of his chest— not very much, but more than you’d ever seen.  You didn’t notice the way your thighs pressed against each other more tightly; he approached you slowly, and you eventually turned to look at him directly.  With you still sitting on the vanity’s padded stool, he towered over you when he stood close… and as you lifted your head to look up at him, his hand brushed softly along your jaw.  You tilted into his touch just a bit, smiling at him while your heart fluttered.

“You’re so beautiful, mein Schatz,” he whispered, and you felt a little giddy when he talked like that— he’d only ever indulged you in his German after having a few drinks, so this instance caught you off-guard in the best way.  Not to mention he’d called you Schatz before— treasure, apparently, and a common term of endearment— but he’d never tagged it with mein before.  And you were his, truly.  You were glad he’d waited to say it until it was actually true (even if, in a certain sense, it was already true before).

He motioned, rather subtly, for you to stand up.  It seemed simple enough, but you felt a little shaky as you did it— a nervous excitement, like the kind you would feel before a piano recital or debutante ball.  Except those were all public engagements, and this was as private as anything could be.

Touching your face again, he wove his fingers back around your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw right in front of your ear.  And he kissed you— just like that, quick at first but then slowing down as you both sighed a bit.

You admired how easily he’d done it, and thank god for it, because you would’ve spent quite a while working up the courage.  This was different from the night you’d kissed him after a few weeks of seeing each other— it was very different from the kiss you’d shared at the courthouse earlier that day.  It would’ve made sense if there was a sense of neediness to it, as if he were making up for lost time or relieving all the anticipation for this night.  But really, it was all rather relaxed, at least on his part.  Like he had all the time in the world: which, you know, he did.

You, on the other hand… you were feeling a bit more out of your element.  Not that you weren’t enjoying this new one so far, it was just a little unfamiliar.

His hand floated lower and traced down your back— delicately, with the tips of his fingers brushing your skin through the thin fabric until chills started to run over you.  You gasped a little into the kiss, and put your hands on the patterned lapels of his robe; you didn’t actually push him away, but he pulled back as if you had, examining your face carefully for a moment.

You hadn’t needed him to stop, but you were a little glad he did: just a moment’s break from it all before it became overwhelming.  His fingers still traced gentle shapes on your lower back through the nightgown, and you found your gaze drifting to his chest, to your hands resting on it— and your own fingertips ventured into the exposed piece of his chest.  His skin was paler here, with a reddish-blondish patch of hair just starting to be visible.  You touched it, taking a quick and shaky breath, and wondered why something inside you tightened as you pet him here.  He was so… masculine.  His looks weren’t sweet and boyish, no: he was broad and strong (he would deny that one if you said it, but to you he was) and sharp around the edges, and it was something you never expected to excite you so much.

But you loved that you could still feel a bit of friction from his beard after he’d kissed you.  You loved the subtle scent of his cologne, how sturdy he felt under your touch.

Your hands drifted up to his face, fingers brushing through his hair slowly, and he smiled at you.  His hair was just a bit long for what was typical of men these days, and you enjoyed combing through the dark brown locks and noticing the little golden highlights in the dimmed light of the room.

The hand on your hip pulled you closer, pressing your body against his, and you tried your best to relax into the warm strength of his form while your heart kept racing.

When he kissed you again, he moved in slowly, watching your face before his own eventually met with it, and you fluttered your eyes shut as his lips gently pressed to yours.  This time, you found yourself leaning in for more, kissing him back with more passion; you let out a little dampened moan when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, taking the next opportunity to gently move further into your mouth.  

He broke away all too soon, embracing you even tighter, pressing his cheek to yours.  And when you, in turn, wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him everywhere you could… you felt it.

Even if you had very little knowledge about this sort of thing, you understood what that hard, curved shape was, pressed just above where your hip met your stomach.  You knew what it was, and your body did too— heat pooled at your core, every touch awakening you even more.

“Oh,” you sighed shakily, holding tighter onto him to just have something to hold onto.

“It's alright,” he whispered, soft words floating on his breath which tickled under your ear.  “It's alright, my darling, I won't hurt you.”

You hummed softly in return, nodding as his lips brushed over your cheek, then moved to your neck.  “I know,” you replied.  “I trust you, Laszlo.”

But you couldn't help but gasp when his tongue teased your pulse, his teeth gently grazing the most delicate places they could find.  His grip at your waist tightened when you whimpered.  “Is this pleasurable to you?” he asked softly; even such a formal statement made you shudder when he said it in that low, buttery voice…

You nodded, your back arching slightly to press yourself against him, but you felt him smile against you suddenly.

“I'd like for you to say it,” he explained, an unfamiliar darkness to his voice.

“It's… pleasurable,” you panted.  “When you kiss me there… it's like I feel every touch s-somewhere else—”

“Where, my love?”

“Here,” you sighed, grabbing his hand from your back and moving it between your legs.  He instantly cupped and rubbed your mound, and your knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.

“Mein Gott, you're so sensitive,” he observed, his own voice sounding a little strained, “I've hardly touched you.”

“L-Laszlo, just touch me more,” you pleaded.

Though he’d been so careful until that moment, he suddenly started to pull up the skirt of your nightgown rather hastily, nostrils flaring as he bent down slightly and worked to hoist the fabric up.  Finally, he got under it, but teased you by rubbing and groping at your thighs instead; under his breath, you just barely heard a growl before he began to kiss your neck again.

“Even if both my hands were strong, I'd wish for more to touch you with,” he mumbled against your skin.  “I'd still want to cover you entirely, reach every part of you at once.”

Well, you liked the sound of that, but one hand was doing you plenty of good already— especially when it slid back up to cup you again, making you sigh and moan as his fingers slipped through your folds, spreading your abundant wetness all around.

Desperate to return even a portion of the sensation he was giving to you, you placed your hand against the bulge in his trousers.  Though the shape and firmness of him made you gasp excitedly, he only let you rub it for a few moments before sighing and moving your hand away.  “Not yet, my darling,” he instructed.  “It's best if we take this one step at a time, for now.”

You felt a little silly, having to be held back like that, but you nodded.  He obviously knew better than you about all this.

It was almost too much, the way he was touching you: you had your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders to try to keep yourself upright, frankly.  And yet, for how overwhelming it was, you heard yourself saying—

“More, please,” you begged, “I-I need you, just give me more, please—”

“I will,” he promised roughly, “but not here.  I think it’s only right that I take you to bed, hm?”

If you weren’t all worked up, you might’ve made some witty comment about how at least the bed’s not too far or whatever— but no, you just let him guide you the few steps to the mattress, and you sat on it as you simply awaited further orders.  So little that he’d done to you, and you’d already do whatever he asked in exchange for continued attention.

You watched him roll up his sleeve— it took him a little while with the weaker hand, but you didn’t mind letting this moment last— and didn’t even notice the way your mouth had gone slack, you were nearly salivating.  “Lay back, darling,” he instructed simply, still looking at his sleeve as he finally folded it up to his elbow, “and open your legs.”

You obeyed, of course, and bit absent-mindedly on your lip as you slowly lifted your knees and parted your thighs.  There was no point being shy now, of course— and you were more than eager for him to get back to doing what he had been before— but you still felt a nervous hesitance that made your hands (and heart) shake slightly.  Something about stopping to get in the bed had brought a bit of sobriety to the moment, and you realized in retrospect how desperate you must have looked.  Surely he wouldn’t hold that against you…

He lifted your skirt again, up to your hips, and hummed lowly at the sight of your sex.  Your face burned hotter; you liked the way he touched it, but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable with him… staring at it.

Still, it was the sort of slight discomfort that felt oddly… good?  Yes, you were a bit embarrassed and exposed at the moment, but it felt wrong in that fun, naughty sort of way; it made your hips shift a little, presumably in hopes of some friction.  Thankfully, their wish was answered: his hand was on you again, pulling your lips apart, slowly exploring you until your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I touch you inside as well?” he asked— as if there was any risk of you turning that offer down.

“Y-yes, Laszlo, please,” you whispered, whimpering as you felt the tip of his pointer finger— suddenly it seemed a little thicker than you remembered— press up to your entrance and ever so gently slide inside.

“Just one to start,” he narrated softly as that one finger made your toes curl, only one finger making your hips twist and your back arch.  How could he do that to you so easily?  “And my thumb can help with this lovely little organ you have…”

His thumb circled your bud, and you shuddered all over— even inside— and instantly struggled to catch your breath.  “Laszlo, what… what is that…” you breathed, whimpering when he rubbed it again.

“Your clitoris, my love— you’ve never touched here before?”

He should’ve known you hadn’t— even if you had… explored yourself out of childish curiosity probably a decade ago, you would’ve remembered if it felt like this.  Shaking your head, you were surprised by his little growl.

“Your poor girl,” he cooed, something a little attractive about the slight condescension of it.  “You have so much to learn.  I can’t even imagine the things you’ve never felt before…”

He slowly moved the pad of his thumb up and down over the flesh, which only grew firmer as he continued.  “Oh!” you whimpered, hips rocking back against his touch— it was so wild of you, you thought, but you couldn’t really stop yourself.  He pressed harder and your whole body jumped.  “Fuck!”

He laughed a little, and your face got warmer.  “I’ve never heard you use language like that, Schatz, but it sounds impossibly adorable when you say it.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you began, “I couldn’t help it—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he insisted, “I’d rather you said it again.  Whenever you can’t help it, of course.”

You knew that Laszlo knew more than you about many topics, being a highly-educated man of great intellect, but you hadn’t expected him to introduce you to an entirely new body part that you’d been carrying with you this whole time.  If you’d figured out how to do anything like this to yourself, you might have spent your entire adolescence trapped in your room, so maybe it was for the best that you never put it together.

You weren't sure how any woman was meant to learn these things— you figured she wasn't meant to, unfortunately— but if she had a choice, you'd certainly recommend this method, provided she could find her own husband to try it with rather than borrowing yours.  What a visceral and beautiful way to learn how much that little organ could really do: Laszlo rubbing it with his thumb, with just the right amount of pressure to make a loud moan crawl out of you.

“The noises you make are just delightful, my darling,” he praised.  “Keep going, so I know what I should do.”

“Just do that,” you begged, “just keep doing that.”

“Only this?” he pressed.  “I shouldn't even add another finger?”

Of course, that was when he did— gently pressing his middle finger to your opening until it accommodated it, and you heard your own high-pitched whine in disbelief that you'd made the sound.  “F-fuck, that feels… Laszlo, you're so—”

But you interrupted yourself, because he did something so diabolical with his fingers just then.  He'd only twisted and scissored them inside you for a moment before curling them up, rubbing the most delicate place you never knew you had— just as he pushed down harder on your poor clit.  You felt ravenous all of a sudden, terribly overwhelmed but greedy for more.

“Please, oh god, please—” you started to beg before you even knew what you wanted.  He knew what you wanted, and he gave it to you: more.  It wasn't even very significant of a movement, and yet it turned your whole body into his plaything as you started to shake all over.

“You react more than I ever expected, my darling,” he cooed.  “I never dreamed how well you would respond to my touch.  I've only just begun and I think you're already nearly there.”

Before you could wonder where he was talking about, he pulled his fingers out of you carefully.  You heard yourself whimper a little, opening your eyes and looking at him worriedly.  He smiled, seeming to enjoy how much his interruption seemed to bother you; “Take off your nightgown, my love,” he requested plainly.  “I think I’d like to get a good look at you before I go on.”

Sitting up (and finding your head a bit more dizzy than you expected), you started by unbuttoning from your neck halfway down to your chest, before lifting the thin garment up over your head slowly.  You felt so strange doing this— undressing in front of a man— but your heart pounded with hope that he would enjoy what he saw.  Tossing the dress aside, you sheepishly bit your lip and waited for his assessment as his dark brown eyes grazed over your nude form.

He moved a little closer, his hand running up your leg and then around your side, reaching up to carefully cup one of your breasts.  You breathed deeply but unevenly, your chest rising and falling against his touch.  You were almost nervous that he hadn’t said anything yet, but the look in his eyes just became more and more clear; you whimpered under your breath when his fingers brushed over your hardened nipple, ever-so-delicately pinching it until your hips shifted a bit in response.  “How beautiful you are, my love,” he whispered, making you squirm again with just his words.  “Is it true you’re really my wife?  This lovely, delicate body that only I can touch and caress, laying next to me every night… I don’t know when I’ll really believe it.”

You had to shut your eyes for a second— you might be too brash if he kept on like that, praising you so tenderly.  “You could’ve been a poet,” you told him with a little smirk, blinking open your eyes again as he guided you to lay back once more, “if medicine didn’t suit you.”

“Oh, I’m no poet, Schatz,” he smiled in return, taking one more careful squeeze of your other breast before moving down to pet inside your legs again.  “All I am is painfully honest.”

His fingers slid inside you again, and you could’ve sworn he was rubbing inside you a bit more firmly than he had been before— thrusting a little faster, pushing a little deeper.  And all the while he was staring down at you, back and forth between your face and your hole, with a delicious darkness in his eyes.

It was still a patient endeavor, so much so that you never really noticed that he was getting a little quicker and rougher with it.  You really didn’t figure it out until you heard yourself choking out his name, groaning and gasping louder than you meant to— but you couldn’t suppress it very well, either.

You soon began to realize what he meant before with that nearly there comment, without even having any prior knowledge of what it could be… there was something instinctive about it, something totally natural.  You didn’t know what was coming, but you understood it; you knew you were on the edge of something and that if you could just get there it would be perfect.

Still, you couldn’t have known how much you would enjoy it.

You couldn’t stop moaning— it was this all-surrounding, ecstatic feeling, like… sinking into something.  Relaxing into something… something warm and soft and good.  Even a lifetime of religious repression couldn’t convince you this was anything but perfect.  Actually, nothing had ever felt right quite the way this did.

Your back arched rather dramatically, until you had a good view of the headboard upside-down; and he gave you few more fast, rough pumps of his fingers into your shaking body before slowing down to a stop and letting you rest.

Suddenly drained, you melted back down onto the bed with a long whine.  “How did that feel?” he asked, sounding a little formal about it, and you only could muster a little, exhausted laugh because what did he think you were going to say?  ‘It was alright, tickled a little bit, but I didn’t mind it.’

“That was… you… you’re so—” you began a few times, giving up to open your eyes wide when his fingers pet up and down over the seam of your lips, gently exploring you, making you quiver from how sensitive you’d become.  You weren’t even done recovering from the stimulation and he was giving you more; he seemed sort of absent-minded about it, the way he gently and repetitively slid up and down and up and down through your slick and swollen folds… but it was deliberate, you knew it was, because he smiled when you moaned weakly.

One finger pressed inside you again, and he watched your face closely and you shuddered.  You were just the slightest bit sore, and it felt like that one finger was more of a stretch than before… which seemed impossible, but with the erratic pulsing of your walls, it was a little hard to keep track.

You gasped sharply when he put the second finger in you once more, almost snarling a bit as he watched you react so strongly.  “Laszlo, I— I don't think I can do that again—”

“You can, I'm sure of it,” he encouraged, curling his fingers inside of you, which required a bit more force with your channel bearing down against him in response.  “It might even come faster this time, that little spot is all swollen now—”

Before he could finish that sentence, he proved it by circling the place, making your hips jump up as another whine eked out of you.  “O-oh, I— fuck…”

He smirked a bit, a delicious smugness to his expression, and the emotion looked much too good on him.  “See?  Just let me take control, my love.  I think you'll like what I do, if you simply let me do what I like with you.”

Fuck, that had to be the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard.  You were biting your lip to try to keep back the flood of terribly embarrassing things your pleasure wanted to say for you: you can do whatever you like with me; I'm yours; I'd do anything for you; don't ever stop, but also if you don't fuck me soon I might lose my mind, you know, things of that nature.  Instead you let out a muffled moan, and nodded to make sure he knew that he had your permission for whatever he thought was best.

And, of course, he’d been right about you: that you’d be even more sensitive after coming, and would be able to go through it all over again.  It only took probably a minute or two of dedicated, precise stimulation for the feeling to grow again… except it felt a little stronger this time, like it was building past the point that it had broken at before.  Maybe your tolerance was higher, or something?  You really weren’t qualified to say— all you could think about was this sensation, this tension, and the way he looked at you as you started to shake all over.

Your eyes fell shut instinctively, your shaking hands clutching at the bed under you; you felt sort of numb all over, except instead of everything being dulled and distant, it was only heightened.

“O-oh, oh, Laszlo, I—” you tried to warn him, words escaping you as the heavy, almost sharp feeling gathered tighter and tighter…

“Give into it,” he insisted, “it’s alright— I want to see it.  I want to hear you, I want to feel you when you come—”

His voice was getting darker, rougher, more demanding as he went on; and in the same way, his fingers’ thrusts into you became more aggressive.  “Fuck, I— I think I’ll— oh god!” you yelped.

“Yes,” he encouraged, “let go, darling!”

Your arms flailed around for a second before finding a lump in the sheets to grab onto tightly, your hips rocking against his hand, your head falling back in a scream; it was so intense, and so sudden, and you felt like the pressure that had been building broke so violently that it would’ve been painful without all the ecstasy running through your veins, numbing you inside and out.

You could tell that this one was different— hotter, warmer, wetter— but you had no idea what you’d done until the high had started to fade just a bit.

His hand slowed down to a stop, you heard him quietly catching his breath, and you blinked your eyes open… that’s when you noticed small wet stains on his rolled-up sleeve, and shiny fluid along his forearm— and a very proud grin on his face.

You felt your eyes go wide and your cheeks start baking.  He spoke up before you could even try to process what to say: “That was excellent, my love— I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so magnificent,” he praised.  “You’re incredible.”

You wanted to believe him, but it didn’t really offer much explanation.  “Laszlo, I… did I—?”

“No, darling, don’t worry,” he cooed, scooting a little closer on the bed as he pet the inside of your thigh.  “It’s natural— one of the… rarer ways that a woman’s body can respond to stimulation.  I’ve always found the concept fascinating, but until now, my knowledge was… purely theoretical.  Actually, I’d love to gather your perspective on the experience, possibly for a future research paper on the topic— but that’s an issue for another time.  There’s a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious what matter could be discussed in a time like this.

“I… I'd like to try something else,” he announced, and you dropped your head back on the bed in a sort of defeat.

“Something else?!” you whimpered, still catching your breath from the last thing he had “tried”.  “What else could there be but making love?”

“That will be soon, I promise, I just… I can't resist such an opportunity,” he explained.  “Your scent is so erotic, and it's only grown stronger now that you’ve so generously covered my arm in your ecstasy.  And with anything that smells so delectable, one can't help but crave to taste it.”

You'd only heard about this before— sort of a dirty schoolyard secret, almost an urban legend.  The whole thing had always sounded odd to you, if maybe not as icky as you thought it was when you first had the concept whispered to you as a child.  You didn't realize it was actually something you might experience someday, assuming it was a practice reserved to the especially perverted.  Now that he was offering it, you found yourself biting your lip as you tried to imagine what it would be like.

“I'd like to pleasure you with my mouth,” he concluded, really spelling it out for you.  “Would that be alright?”

You weren't sure what to think of that, and yet you were already nodding yes.  This was your husband, after all— who else could you trust to do something like this?  Most of all, you did it because you wanted to please him.  Because he'd asked you for it.

He smiled a little when you agreed, and began to lean down between your legs.  Those deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle more than ever when he looked up at you, but his gaze couldn't stay with yours for long before he had to give a closer look to your cunt.  He carefully spread the lips with his fingers, humming at the sight.  “I wonder if it's even possible for you to be as delicious as you look,” he spoke quietly, and a needy whine caught in your throat.

It was just a gentle kiss to your clit first… then another, with his lips parted.  Then he started to ever-so-gently suckle at it, tongue softly petting it; he wasn't doing too much, physically, but you never could catch your breath while he was doing it.

You whined a bit when he broke away, looking down at him in search of an explanation but finding instead him looking back up at you with an indescribable look in his eye.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice rougher and darker than you'd ever heard it before, making you shiver gleefully.

“Wet,” you blurted out, making him smile a little, a small laugh on an exhale through his nose that made you feel a bit foolish in an unexpectedly pleasurable way.  “A-and warm… please don't stop, Laszlo, it felt so nice…”

He got back to it, a little more intensely than before, and your eyes rolled back when he really started to lap at you with his tongue— harder and wider each time, making you writhe from the intensity of it.

You couldn't even describe the sound you made when he pushed his tongue inside you.  He moaned against you in response to it, though, and thank God, he kept going.

He kept petting your thighs, even encouraging you when your legs clamped down around his head unintentionally; presumably that was his way of saying it wasn’t giving him any pain, which you were a bit concerned about, even if you couldn’t really stop yourself.  Sometimes you had the strength to meet his gaze, but most of the time you felt like you’d melt if you looked back at him— the way he was staring up at you was just too fiery, too intense, too beautiful.  

Just when you thought you were getting used to the pattern of his tongue’s movements on your clit, he gently pushed his two fingers back into your pulsing channel.  You were all tingly and sore inside, but a long, deep moan fell from your mouth as your back arched.

“Beautiful,” he praised, the word muffled by what he was doing— which he got back to more urgently than ever, twisting and thrusting his fingers inside you carefully at first.

“J-just like that,” you pleaded.  “Oh, Laszlo, I— I didn't know anything could… feel like this…”

You could feel the smallest smirk on his lips as he continued; even just being able to feel his smug smile there was such a lovely, erotic, totally novel concept to you.  

When he really buried his face in your legs, you could feel the roughness of his beard against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and buttocks, and god was it the most beautifully filthy feeling.  It was really an excellent metaphor for the whole thing: the symbol of his maturity, the well-kempt facial hair itself a balance between his wildness and his meticulous self-control, rubbing raw your delicate and untouched skin in such an intimate place.  If you weren’t too busy shaking and crying and seeing stars on this bed, you might have appreciated the beauty in those parallels, but clearly you weren’t capable of thinking about it to that level of depth.

The stream of helpless praises you'd been trying to hold back earlier?  There was absolutely nothing stopping it from spilling forward now.  “You're incredible,” you blurted out, your hand holding tighter to the sheets beneath you.  “Laszlo— my husband— you… you must be the devil, o-or an angel or prophet— or something. You make me feel things, such incredible things, that I didn't even know—”

He opened his mouth wide around you, breaking the seal of his lips so he could speak against your skin.  “I'm just a man,” he promised, “I'm just a husband becoming addicted to his new wife's pleasure, that's all, my dear.”

As he started to do it again so suddenly, you reacted suddenly as well: your hand found his hair and grabbed it, and your mind was too far gone to worry about it being too aggressive.  Not that he gave any signs of annoyance— if anything it was the opposite, as he lapped at you harder in response.  

This, of course made your hips jump up— until his hand slipped out of you, grabbing them and pulling them down, keeping you still as he continued.  The simple show of dominance affected you greatly, another heavy pulse of pleasure hitting you suddenly.

“I-I'm close,” you whispered.  “Laszlo, I'm so close— and it feels so different than before— I swear, nothing's ever felt so— fuck!”

He hummed encouragingly, and your whole body rocked in time with the growing pressure.  His fingers sliding back inside you, seeming to curl even more than before, certainly added to the sensation.

Just as you were teetering on the edge, his teeth grazed impossibly-carefully over you, a sharp and raw sort of pleasure jolting your entire body.  Of course, you couldn't fight against that, and the feeling inside you snapped as yet another flood of pleasure ripped through your body.  Your ears were ringing but you still heard how loud you must have been, how totally wrecked and helpless your moans had become.  

It wasn’t as… aggressive of a feeling as the one that had made you… you know… but it was probably the most powerful in its own way.  The highest, the heaviest, the most whole.  You couldn't hear him moaning against you through all that, but you could feel it: a deep and bassy vibration that only heightened the feeling even more.  Your moans turned to cries and then sobs; it was too much, the feeling was spilling over inside you— you weren't sure how much longer you could take it all before you broke.

It seemed, however, that he broke first; he pulled away and sat up, leaving you both panting, sweaty messes.  

“God, you're so beautiful,” he sighed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up into a filthy, heated kiss.  You surrendered instantly, grabbing into his shoulders with hands that were still pricked with pins and needles as your high dissipated slowly.  “I can't wait anymore,” he mumbled against your lips, “I need to be inside you.”

“Please,” you gasped softly— you'd been waiting for this all night, at least.  You'd never imagined yourself so eager, so desperate for it, though…

He made quick work untying his robe, leaning over you as he held tightly onto his cock and guided the swollen, leaking head between your lips.  Yes, even with desire coursing through your veins, a touch of anxiety was still present.  You just couldn’t imagine what this was going to be like, you could still hardly believe it was happening to you— and, though it was a bit crass to think, you were a bit surprised by the brief glance of his cock that you’d gotten.  You wouldn’t really know what was big or small or normal or abnormal when it came to that… you had nothing to compare it to.  What you did know was that it seemed much… thicker, than seemed appropriate to go inside you.  Of course you knew that a young woman’s first experience could be painful, you’d heard that bleeding was normal (if not expected, but that seemed a bit barbaric and certainly not what a progressive man like Laszlo was after) — yet, you still weren’t properly scared.  It was just the sort of anticipation that made you shiver and let out a long breath to compose yourself.

He groaned a little as he continued to rub against you, and you noticed the arm that held him up over you was shaking.  You could only imagine how frustrating it must have been to be giving you all that attention and not getting any in return for so long, and you could only hope he might take a little of that frustration out on you…

“Please,” you said again, quieter, as you looked up at him.  Thankfully, that was enough to make him press forward and slide into you all at once.

While his fingers had stretched you in such strange, sometimes overwhelming ways, his cock… it just fit.  It filled you exactly the way you needed— not too wide or too deep… though you suspected it would've been had he not prepared you so incredibly thoroughly.  And while his tongue has made you feel such unimaginable things, though his lips had effortlessly sucked ecstasy from your shaking body, having him inside you felt so simple and natural and easy.  

He hissed in his breaths as he moved— slow at first, but each one just a bit faster than the last.  Every movement stimulated all the places he'd already awoken inside you, and your legs moved on their own to latch around his hips while your head fell back with a satisfied sigh.

“My angel,” he groaned, staring down at you as each of his thrusts rocked you under him.  “I knew I— fuck, darling— I knew I'd have trouble keeping myself together when I was finally inside you.  Yet you're… you're even more perfect than I imagined.”

You smiled proudly, reaching up to hold his shoulders; he seemed encouraged by that, becoming just a bit rougher in his movements until your nails accidentally dug into his skin just a bit.

“I won't be able to last much longer,” he grunted, “but I-I can't stop.  I can't even slow down, I never… I've never lost control like this before.”

A shiver ran up your whole body, even seeming to make you clench inside— and he moaned in return, a beautifully pitiful sound.  

“I'm sorry,” he offered between panting breaths, and you barely mustered the energy to laugh. 

“Beloved, what do you have to apologize for?” you teased through a grin.  “Surely you're not worried that I will be left unsatisfied.”

“I would rather bring you to orgasm again,” he explained, “but I'm so desperate for you, I'm afraid I lack the patience for it.”

“I would rather pleasure my husband, for once,” you replied, “but you couldn't possibly feel what I felt, I don't think I'll ever be able to really return the favor—”

“It's no favor,” he insisted.  “Your pleasure is what I desire.  And a good wife gives her husband what he desires, no?”

You whimpered desperately, pathetically even.  “I'll be good for you, Laszlo,” you promised weakly, “I want to be a good wife to you…”

“You're a very good wife, my dear,” he assured.  “Look how much pleasure you've let me take from you, look how you've soaked our bed with your lovely nectar…”

You weren't sure which part of that aroused you the most… but our bed was a serious contender.

“And you taste absolutely divine,” he added, before kissing you again to let you taste it, too.  It was a sloppy and needy kiss, not precise and careful like basically everything else he'd done to you so far, but you loved it.  You loved any sign that he might be just as desperate as you.

Once again his speed and intensity picked up, until you could hear his skin hitting against yours loudly, and your back arched a bit at how perfectly dirty it felt.  His cock hit a spot deep inside you, and you sucked in a sharp breath.  “Laszlo,” you blurted out, and he groaned as he moved his kiss to your neck.  

“Keep saying my name,” he demanded.  “Tell me who your husband is— who makes you feel this way you've never felt before.”

“Laszlo,” you said again, “I'm yours.  Anything you want from me, it's yours.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a heavy sigh.

“Your wife, always,” you continued, and it made your own heart swell along with encouraging him: he moved faster, rocked deeper into you, and breathed heavy against your ear as your back arched from the erotic perfection of the moment.

“My wife,” he repeated, making you whine and nod and bear down on him with your walls.

“Yes,” you gasped, “yes— yours, I’m yours—”

“I-I can't hold back anymore,” he moaned, “I don't… I don't even know if I can bring myself to pull out before—”

“Don't,” you begged.  “I want it inside, Laszlo.  I want all of you inside me.”

“Oh, darling, mein Schatz, I—” he choked, but he never finished his sentence.  He just moaned louder and louder and fucked you faster and faster— until you were nearly screaming from how hard he hammered into you.

It stopped all at once; he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could, so deep you felt like you were struggling to breathe, and hid his face in the curve of your neck as he came inside you.

And for a long, beautiful moment, you just laid together; you were sort of halfway between awake and asleep, your whole body thrummed with emotions and sensations you never thought you could fit within yourself.  Time passed, surely, but you wouldn’t have known the difference.  His weight on top of you wasn’t too heavy, though it did keep you pressed into the mattress and sheets— not that you were going anywhere anyways.

You only really came back to reality when you felt small kisses trailing your neck; you hummed and squirmed a little beneath him, making you both groan as it stirred where you were connected.  He must have been a bit sore, too, though you felt like you’d been through quite a lot more and had a better excuse.

He moved again, just barely, and you winced as you held onto his back.  “Don’t go,” you whispered, afraid of the pain if he didn’t just stay still inside you.

“I have to, sometime,” he breathed in return.

“But—”

“I know, my love,” he cooed, “I’d stay inside you forever if I could.  But I’ll hurt you more if I don’t give you time to rest.”

Resigning yourself with a sigh, you nodded a little and scrunched up your face as he pulled his hips back.  It did sting, but it faded quickly once he was out— and the feeling was replaced with a warm, wet feeling that you realized must have been his seed leaking out of you.  It made you feel a bit dirty, but wonderful, too.

He laid beside you with a deep breath, his hand coming up to your face and turning it so you would look back at him.  You had to blink a few times to really see clearly, and even still, everything seemed a bit blurry around the edges.  The whole world seemed a bit softer, really.  “I love you, darling wife,” he told you simply, his voice soft but no longer a whisper, and he pet your cheek as he leaned in to kiss the bridge of your nose.

“I love you too, husband,” you cooed in reply.  “You’re so wonderful— a-and you’re nothing like I imagined, sometimes.”

“Perhaps I should have been more careful,” he offered nervously.

“No— that was perfect,” you promised.

“I meant the very end, there,” he clarified, his hand running down over your body and resting on your stomach.  “You might have wanted to wait longer… if you had a child so soon, you might wish we had more time just the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he meant.  “Oh, that…” you mumbled, smiling a bit to yourself.

“I fully intended to have my finish elsewhere, to lower the chances— I didn’t think I would become so… impulsive,” he sighed.  “I hoped to still control myself, but I’m afraid I wasn’t quite able to, once I was within you.  But I couldn’t help it, with the way you feel…”

“It’s alright,” you laughed weakly, “it’s not as if I were acting rationally.  I never… I didn’t think I could be so… so—”

A thousand words came to mind.  Unladylike.  Animalistic.  Desperate.  Insatiable.

“I didn’t think I’d ever act like that,” you said instead, voice getting a little softer as you felt a bit shy again.

“I knew you would,” he responded, making you look at him with wide eyes and warming cheeks.

“You— but I— I was always—!”

“Yes, you behaved very well each time I met you” he recalled with a proud smile, “always so sweet and well-mannered.  But I knew you had so much need within you, so much hunger… a being of pure instinct just waiting to take over when the time was right.”

Your heart skipped a beat— you felt a bit… accused by that statement, yet you couldn’t really deny it.  Even if you hadn’t known it before, it was clearly true now.  “How… how could you have sensed that?” you wondered.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you again; you loved the way he looked in that moment.  His expression was familiar, but the total lack of composure— flushed cheeks, sweat on his brow, messed hair— was totally new and quite pleasant.  “If you didn’t have any desire to misbehave, my darling, you wouldn’t have been going out with me.”

#laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut

[horsesarecreatures]

Attendees of the 2023 USEA Annual Meeting & Convention were in for a real treat with this year’s keynote speaker, Dr. Temple Grandin. Dr. Grandin is an icon in the worlds of agriculture and autism and is most notably known for applying her own experiences as an autistic individual to her studies on how stress impacts both humans and animals. In this year’s keynote address, Dr. Grandin shared several different scenarios encountered in both her studies and the studies of her animal science students at Colorado State University that apply to the equestrian community. Take a look at some of our favorite takeaways from this year’s keynote address below:

1. Animals live in a sensory-based world. Get away from verbal language to understand animals and instead evaluate what is the animal hearing, smelling, and touching and use that to your advantage when exposing your horse to objects that often spook them.

“Sudden new things are scary for people with autism and for animals. If your horse is afraid of flags, don’t shove it in their face.," she said. "Decorate their pasture fence or arena fence with flags and let them walk up to it on their own.”

2. Exposure, conducted in the right manner, is the best training tool for your horse.

“A lot of animals lead sheltered lives," said Dr. Grandin. "I had a chance to go to the Keeneland Thoroughbred sale [Lexington, Kentucky], and the horses were terrified of the auctioneer because they hadn’t been trained for the sound of the auctioneer's voice. They also hadn’t been prepared for a strange groom or handler to hold them. What I realized was that when a horse was swapped from his regular groom to a new person, the horse became anxious and let out a giant shriek. I noticed that noise. I don’t think anybody wants to make that stressful mess, but they did. Now the horse was alone in this strange, creepy, scary new place, and his regular groom was gone. You have to expose your animals to enough different things.”

3. Horses think in pictures which can impact how and why they spook at certain objects.

“This is an interesting study that one of my students did that explains why a horse might suddenly spook. If you look at this playset, you will notice that it looks totally different when it's rotated. My students walked young fillies and colts past this playset 15 times at the walk, until the horses just walked by it without stopping, raising their heads up, or flaring their nostrils. When this thing was turned, it became a new thing. It became something different.”

4. Everything feels different to horses at different gaits.

“The saddle feels different at a walk, trot, and canter," she said. "I suggest to students to put a backpack on and then walk, trot, and canter so they can see how it feels different. Sometimes you have to go slow and think about how you are going to introduce things to your horse. Since they are sensory-based, it is much more specific.”

5. Animals are very fear specific. Keep that in mind when dealing with a horse who habitually exhibits fear as a response to certain stimuli or when trying to expose a horse to something new.

“This horse was terrified by black cowboy hats because he associated a really bad experience with a person wearing a black cowboy hat," she said. "So black cowboy hats were very frightening, but white cowboy hats were fine—it was very specific. Now, if I put the black cowboy hat on the ground, it was a lot less scary, but as I brought that hat toward my head, it got more and more scary. And the problem with fear memories is that they are very, very difficult to get rid of. So let's try to not have that.”

6. Animals have emotions and, just like in humans, each animal or each horse is going to be very different in the way they manage their individual emotions.

“Fear is a proper scientific word," said Dr. Grandin. "When I first started doing scientific research in the early '90s, I wasn’t allowed to use the word 'fear' as they said it wasn’t scientific to assign human emotions to animals. But now we know that animals have emotions; they definitely do. Fear is real, and some animals genetically are going to have higher fear responses than other animals. It turns out with me that my fear center is three times larger than normal. You can have animals that are higher fear or low fear. An animal that is high fear is an animal that gets scared more easily; their heart rate and cortisol levels go up more, and when you put that animal in a high-stress situation they are more likely to get sick.”

7. The best thing for your horse is to let them be a horse.

“We have to look at what animals need," she said. "Dogs in an animal shelter need 45 minutes every day of funsies with the volunteer, that is what they need because we have bred them to be social. A lot of horses need to get out and run around in the pasture just to have a chance to be a horse. I am concerned that some horses are so locked up in stalls. You’ve got stallions with abnormal behavior? It’s because they have never learned that give and take of social relationships with other animals. Does the animal have a life worth living? Does it have a positive, fun, experience? Does it get to do things it likes to do? For a horse, that is getting out and running around. You want to let the horse have positive, happy experiences.”

8. Horses can be life-changing for people of all backgrounds, but especially for kids with autism.

“When I was in a regular high school, I got bullied and teased for being autistic," Dr. Grandin shared. "So I went away to a special school where horses became my life. The only place I had friends was when I was riding horses or getting horses ready for shows. I learned how to work with horses and there are a lot more troubled teenagers today who cleaning horse stalls, taking care of horses, and getting involved could be the best thing that has ever happened to them.”

#horses #autism

[astolfofo]

I lowkey kinda feel like writing smth for dr ratio but take this idea for now:

Revisited the 36 questions musical (music in it is so banger my god). Imagine you're one of dr. ratio's old classmates. An academic rival if you will. You part ways with him after high school. You could not imagine going to a university with him. You pity the poor students that do.

But he does come back into your life. You've seen him occasionally at your job. YOu do your best to ignore him, treat him like you would with any other colleague that you might have known. At an arm's length. You're not friends with any of them. You certainty would not treat him with more kindness than you would with any other person. Suffice to say, although petty, you had never gotten over how he was just always just barely a mark or two above you.

That was until you realized that the distance between you two was so great, that he was now your boss. You found out he was a professor in a university through the grapevine of your coworkers who can't stop swooning over him. You tried to ignore them, focus on your work, but today, they were loudly announcing that he was going to be the manager of your department. Strange, you think to yourself. He had never seemed to have an interest in your line of work. He had always been highly theoretical. You had turn to be highly practical. He was one meant for the sciences, while you could only surmount to doing practical application. You'd have imagined he would be doing things that were beyond what the mundane could comprehend. He shouldn't be here.

But he was.

WHILE being a professor at one of the top universities. Countless accomplishments, probably a wall full of certificates and awards. You had grown not to care about things like that. But it still felt that he was invading the one thing you were good at. Still though, you wouldn't let it bother you. In the worst case, you'd switch companies, maybe move somewhere else and he wouldn't be a problem anymore.

But Dr. Ratio seems to have different ideas. Management under his hand was very different. You were immidieately promoted to the highest rank, below manager. Much to your distaste, you had told him multiple times to promote one of your coworkers. They had much better qualifications for becoming a manager than you did. But alas, your protests always came to deaf ears.

Suddenly you were crushed by work, tons of pressure, and under his scrutiny. He was a big fan of doing big, risky projects. Ones that you'd always be responsible for if you failed. You'd try to politely deny his requests, but he'd insist, threatening that you'd be fired if you didn't pull through.

At one point you had just had enough.

You coldly place your resignation onto his desk. The box of your belongings was balanced between your hand and your knees.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"My resignation. I'm leaving." You say simply. "Don't try to convince me to stay. Working under you is simply not something I am suited for."

He seems uninterested. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Is that so? I was under the impression that you were doing quite well."

You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or scream in that second. You were sure your hair was going to turn half-white before he picked up a goddamn clue. You suppose passing out three times and looking like you had your eyes punched wasn't a strong enough indicator.

"Ah... well... I'm flattered you think that way, but I really think it's time for me to move on...."

"And your plan after this is...?"

"Oh. Maybe work at someplace else." You lie, "I have a few options I can choose from, I'll probably end up working at one of those."

Dr. Ratio looks at your face, and then looks up and down. You stand there akwardly waiting for his approval to leave. You began counting down seconds. If he wasn't going to let you leave in the next two minutes, you'd walk out the door yourself.

"Why don't we sit down and talk first? Before you leave."

What? "Oh no sir.. it's fine... really..."

"It's been a few years since we've last seen each other and talked, hasn't it? I was wondering when you were going to approach me again. It's just a shame it's in this way."

He turns around and puts the sheet of paper into the shredder. You look back at him wide-eyed, debating on whether you would just walk straight out.

"Why don't you set your things aside? Maybe put them back on your desk? It's not like you'll be leaving soon. Unless you want to retire now?"

You open your mouth preparing to yell every curse word you can at him.

"Save your insults for later. Now tell me why you pretended not to recognize me for the past year I've worked here."

#Full fic material? maybe #Dr. Ratio #veritas ratio #yandere hsr #yandere dr. ratio #yandere veritas ratio #yandere dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader #hsr veritas #dr ratio x you

[narafeedee]

Top 10 weight gain hacks?

In no particular order:

1. Replace everything you can with the higher calorie version. This may seem obvious but also consider alternative ingredients and increasing quantity of ingredients, for example swapping milk or water with heavy cream, adding double the butter that’s called for, etc. I know that that’s a no-brainer but it really does make a difference if you’re cooking a lot at home.

2. Surround yourself with snacks. When I shop and get a bunch of snacks, I just leave the grocery bag next to where I sit on my couch. Cookies, chips, poptarts, pastries, hand pies, you name it. So any time I’m feeling peckish or I’m just bored and need something to do, I have something within arms reach. I can mindlessly pack away an extra couple thousand calories a day this way and not even notice.

3. Create smaller goals. This one can be a little challenging, of course we all want to hit our ultimate goal as quickly as possible. But it’s so easy to get discouraged when you’re looking at a number that seems so far away. Breaking your goals up into manageable chunks makes the process quicker and more successful than lamenting over not gaining “fast enough” and losing steam. It also gives you reason to celebrate more often than if you’re only looking forward to the next 50-100lbs. For example, say you’re starting on 01/01 at 300 and your ultimate goal is 350. For the month of January your goal is to hit 310, for February it’s 320, and so on and so forth. That way you’re only really “pushing” for the gain for a few days at a time, if you even need to push at all. I hope that makes sense lol

4. That belly tapping thing actually works, lightly tap above your navel and continue tapping as you move from center to left. It may take a couple rounds of this, but in less than a minute you should feel your stomach start feeling empty again. It really really works, it’s also great for when you’re stuffed to the point where another bite will make you sick - just do the tapping thing and the pain and nausea dissipates. I don’t know the science behind this but it’s something I use on a weekly basis and has been a lifesaver.

5. Diet soda. I’ve always been a Diet Coke addict but I’ve found in my gaining journey that the days I drink Diet Coke I am OBSESSED with sweets and sugary treats. Otherwise I’m not too into sweet things, but when I’m chugging aspartame? Oh god it’s game over, I’d eat straight sugar if I had to.

6. Buy the bigger clothes in advance and wear them. This one is hit or miss, cause I love feeling my clothes bursting at the seams, but on the other hand it takes a lot of effort to get super fat and maintain it, so being comfortable as possible is also a must. I do wear the super tight ones still too, but I alternate depending on the day. If you have clothes that are (temporarily) loose on you, not only will you be comfortable but you’ll also have the added benefit of feeling yourself outgrow those too, which to me is more impressive than outgrowing something that was already a little snug.

7. Preset meals; if you’re a fast food junkie like I am and eat every one of your meals out of a greasy brown bag, this is a game changer. Spend a little time making lists of what you like from fast food places and their respective calorie counts. Then come up with realistic 2000+ calorie meals from that. Not stuffings so much as just a casual everyday lunch. So if you know that you need to hit a minimum calories per day, it’s super quick to order exactly what you need and you don’t have to put any effort into it. A lot of apps let you save your favorites to a separate list anyhow.

8. Fast food apps. If you don’t have a rewards app for every fast food place in a 20 mile radius of your home, are you even a feedee? All jokes aside, the amount of free or deeply discounted food I get every day is insane and I am so proud of my points balances lol this is one of my top hacks, I eat so much fast food anyway why wouldn’t I reap the rewards from that?

9. Eat before bed. Most of my eating happens within 2 hours of me falling asleep at night. I would conservatively say half of my daily calorie intake happens in the evening. It works, do it.

10. I’ve been gatekeeping this website for the last 9.5 years, but this is the most accurate calorie calculator I’ve ever used. It tells you your estimated weight over the next few months based on your body metrics and estimated calorie intake (or rather your daily goal lol) and has been consistently accurate for me in my gaining. I use it to plan my gains/other feedees gains and our daily and weekly calorie goals 😉

#narafeedee #naraanswers #weight gain

[bambambunny]

FATUI CAT :D

I am here to deliver on my promise of cat!reader headcannons, under the cut cuz its long

Tw: none i think??? If there is then pls tell me

Relationships: Platonic harbingers / reader

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pierro

Scary

Just say away if you dont particularly like him

He probably wont mind, he’s too busy to care about a cat of all things.

But like if you do like him, i recommend snoozing in his lap.

He’s got a lot of paperwork to do so its unlikely that he moves around a lot.

Its giving villain in a turning chair menacingly stroking a cat while giving an order to a nervous henchmen to inconvenience the heroes. 

You could try yelling at him and only quieting down when he pets you or lets you onto is lap

But, depending on his mood, he might just kick you out of his office

Would assign some poor Fatui henchman to take care of you so you have a constant guardian even if the other harbingers arent there. 

Dottore

Again

Scary

If you, as a cat, show human-like intelligence dottore will certainly pick up on it

Personally, as someone who likes cats and science, I would hang out with him

But like bad vibes

The worst vibes imaginable from this man.

Dont touch the chemicals he has.

We dont know what it is but just to be safe, assume all of them are acid.

Columbina

I love her sm 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Gives the most satisfying scritches and sings the sweetest songs

She’s one of the most safest harbingers to nap around

She’d put clips and bows in your fur regardless of gender.

Spends like 5 hours singing and grooming you like she doesnt have work to do.

No one has the guts to interrupt her though.

Capitano

Even though he’s scary i have a hc he’s nicer than he looks.

He isnt around Zapolyarny palace very often bc he’s out doing military campaigns and what not

But when he is at the palace, its safe to hang out with him

He’d have no issue with you catching a ride on his shoulders.

I also like to think he has a pyro vision(if he has one) and so he’s warmer than most

Perfect for a cat in snezhnaya. 

I think he’s nicer than he looks and it would be funny for the tiny cat to run straight to the big scary harbinger for pets and cuddles.

Pulcinella 

Its grandpa time babey

He gives you only the highest quality cat food.

You spend the day with him and you leave with 5 extra pounds just from the amount of treats he gives you.

You dont even have to do tricks or anything he just rewards you for existing.

He’d give you a kitty version of the harbinger coats, sponsored by Pantalone. 

Scaramouche

Oh this is fun

You know how cats are just assholes sometimes and like do things specifically to piss you off

Yeah do that

Swipe at his hat tassles

Get on a cabinet and yell, mocking him for being so tiny

Rest assured that he will torment you in return

Like i love scaramouche so much, he’s my baby, id adopt him a million times over if i could

But i can only restrain the bastard instinct for so long

He told the fatui in charge of you to make sure you leave him alone and is so close to killing him when you inevitably waltz around the corner.

Sandrone

You’re not allowed in her workshop

No ifs ands or buts

Her robots are to delicate to risk getting knocked over by a cat

If you’re really insistent on watching her then she might allow you to watch from the door

But thats it

Outside of the workshop though, she wouldnt mind letting you in her lap while she is carried around by her robot. 

Just dont jump off without letting her know before hand

You might get crushed by the robot

If you manage to make her like you and look sad enough, she might make a robotic toy for you.

Maybe a robot cat friend or a mouse for you to chase.

It keeps you occupied and lets Sandrone make another robot, win-win!

Signora

She does seem a bit cold at first

Feels like the type to not like animals bc of how messy they are, etc.

But she will warm up to you quicker than say Pierro or Sandrone.

Another source of heat in this frigid country.

She sends one of those fire moths to go with you and it is very much appreciated.

Girls night with Her and Columbina hanging out and taking care of you ^-^

Pantalone

As mentioned in the original post, i think Pantalone likes cats

He’d spoil you so bad lmao

Doesnt matter if you’re mean or nice or apathetic

He has a corner in his office dedicated to you.

Its got a box of toys, the softest bed money can buy, the most elaborate cat tree imaginable like wtf man, one of them self cleaning litter boxes, a water fountain, and an automatic feeder.

The feeder is on a schedule but that doesnt really matter because Pantalone will give you treats anyways.

He even gives you your own allowance from the fatui treasury.

He gives you one of those cat collars with the little bell.

Arlecchino 

You could hint to her that you want to go to the orphanage.

Everytime someone mentions it, give a little chirp and stare at her intently.

She’ll probably get the idea and set aside a week or so for you go to the orphanage to play with the kids.

They’re all very gentle with you and like to call you a mini snow leopard.

Arlecchino thinks its kinda cute but she wont say it.

Tartaglia

The bastard instinct returns

I like to think that he isnt present when the other harbingers found cat!reader

Imagine he arrives heavily wounded and is confined to bed rest 

And like, when the doctor gives the go ahead for guests, cat!reader jumps onto the bed and starts purring up a storm

Cats purr to comfort others as well as to show happiness

Childe’s barely conscious but the fluffy thing is comfy and he cant move so might as well let it stay.

When he does wake up he’s more than a little surprised to find a cat in his bed

You have a collar so he assumes you already belong to someone, pets you and then lets you out of the room while he goes over to see what the other harbingers are doing.

Khdsgoiewjrlksjf might try making this a longer fic if i have the skills but anyways-

Very nice to you

A bit rough on the playing but hey, it helps hone your hunting skills

Not that you need to hunt, you get fed regularly and i doubt there’s much mice in Zapolyarny palace. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

And thats all i got. If yall want, feel free to expand on the concept or send some asks for more specific interactions! This is the first time ive done anything like this so i hope its good enough. 

Tag list:

@etherisy @franc-1-s

#genshin fatui #fatui x reader #capitano x reader #pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #sandrone x reader #arlecchino x reader #columbina x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #signora x reader #dottore x reader #pulcinella #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #fatui cat

[junosmindpalace]

Hello! I absolutely love all your Dr Stone works!! Especially about Senku, so now I want to make a request. Can you do Senku fluff alphabet? Senku and reader are in relationship. I am not fluent in English, I hope you understood everything, thank you!!

hi there! thank you for your request! i’ve never done a fluff alphabet omg this was so fun. these are pretty much the same everywhere i looked but i specifically took questions from @ arlertdarling !

synopsis: your relationship with senku from a-z.

( A ) AFFECTION — how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

senku’s biggest and most prominent love language is very obviously acts of service, and even then they can be seemingly indirect or misleading. he typically frames the things he does as doing them for his own benefit, but they obviously benefit you as well. he’s a little more open with doing you favors or kind acts for no particular reason other than to help you or make you smile just because you two are so close and know each other so well.

perhaps if you’ve been together for a while, he’ll allow some physical affection from you, but typically never initiates it himself outside of gently tugging your hand to lead you somewhere or grabbing your shoulder(s), placing a hand on your lower back or what not to guide you elsewhere. he also tends to get more physical if you are/were in danger for obvious reasons. it's more so reassurance for him that you’re alright and being right there to help immediately in case something is wrong.

words of affirmation is a close second in terms of love languages. he can be really encouraging with his words when you need a pick me up, and really moving when you just need some reassurance when things feel too hectic.

( B ) BEST FRIEND — what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?

your friendship developed from your occasional bump ins when he’d be in the middle of an experiment. you’d always look on at him in awe, and eventually invited yourself to sit and watch and ask him questions, which he had no qualms at all with answering. from there you would watch and help out with his experiments more regularly.

he’s not a friend that's too high maintenance. whether you come to visit him in the science club room every day or once every couple of weeks, senku doesn’t treat you any less like a friend, or at the very least a well acquainted schoolmate. he’s fun to be around, however. someone you can go to if you’re bored and will always encourage you in your own hobbies. it’s your mutual dedication and passion for the things you love that make you two so close.

( C ) CUDDLES — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

not a big cuddler, but he can get a little clingy when he’s sleeping. he tends to curl in on himself, but if you happen to be in the vicinity, he might subconsciously reach for you. at best, he feels comfortable enough to lay his head on your thighs or stomach with an arm wrapped loosely around your waist or on top of your stomach. you make sure to avert any sort of conversation related to this when he wakes up, subtly maneuvering him off your lap as he sits up with a drowsy look on his face as to avoid embarrassing him or making him uncomfortable. you can tell he sometimes realizes what happened, but never outwardly says so--and never tells you to push him away, either.

( D ) DOMESTIC — do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?

not an incredibly prevalent thought. at best its fleeting if hes thinking about it at all. he’s probably very indifferent to the idea of marriage and having children, and even simply living a simple existence just isn’t his style.

in terms of chores, he probably does them fairly well, except it would probably take him a couple of reminders and has a bad habit of leaving messes from all the time he spent alone preoccupied with his experiments. however the fact that he managed his home by himself a lot probably means he’s good at doing them, but like any person, it’s probably a pain for him.

( E ) ENDING — if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

probably finds a suitable time to talk to you somewhere private and flat out tells you he wants to end things. it seems harsh, but there’s no reason to beat around the bush. his tone of voice and expression are far from emotionless, however. he keeps himself composed and steady for the most part, but you can see that it also pains him from the slight waver and strain in his voice, and from the creases in between his brows and lines on his forehead. he makes sure to do his best to let you down as gently as he thinks he can and doesn’t judge you for any sort of emotions you feel or express toward him.

( F ) FIANCÉ — how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?

again, marriage is probably a very fleeting thought for senku and something he’s for the most part indifferent toward. he doesn’t feel commitment needs to be cemented through a ceremony or new marriages titles or a piece of paper; he cares about you and loves you, and doesn’t need a ring on his finger to remind him to be unwaveringly loyal. maybe would make fun of some wedding and marriage traditions, but even though he himself would probably never suggest marriage, if it means something to you, he doesn’t see the big deal in going through with it--though he probably wouldn’t be all for a ceremony or anything too grand.

( G ) GENTLE — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

it really depends on the circumstances. sometimes senku can come off somewhat harsh to a person who isn’t all that familiar with him, but it typically isnt his intention, especially not with you. for the most part your relationship is mostly comprised of teasing and playful banter, but when you tend to get more personal and sensitive, the gruffness in his voice quiets down and becomes a lot gentler.

this also goes with physical touch. he sometimes tends to just randomly pull at you to follow him certain places, and of course if you’re in any potential danger, but his touch can also be super soft and reassuring, typically when you’re expressing insecurity or hard feelings of some kind.

( H ) HUGS — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

like said with cuddling, not a big hugger. grand pda is just not his thing, but he won’t always refuse it. if its you, he’s probably a little more willing to be touchy, but it doesn’t happen all too often. most of the time its you initiating the hug, whether its draping over him mid experiment or hugging him from behind as he takes note of something, and usually he doesnt comment on it or move away, simply letting himself exist in your arms as he does whatever he’s doing and continuing your conversation normally. he might sometimes rub his hand over yours or place his arm under your elbow when he turns around to face you with a fond gaze even despite his smirk and teasing tone.

( I ) I LOVE YOU — how fast do they say the L-word?

he has yet to say it outright as a single phrase, but its obvious that he says it in more indirect ways. in the kind things he does for you, in the concern he expresses when you feel low about something or might be in danger, in the ways he motivates you when you feel hopeless and insecure. and when you teasingly call him out for all of these kind things, he scoffs and rolls his eyes and will occasionally say things along the lines of “i love when you ____”. still, it’s rare even if he says this, and he’s usually very nonchalant when he does, but you can take notice of the slight shyness in his voice from the way it quiets just a slight bit and his eyes hold a softer expression.

still, it takes him a bit to get to this point. a lot of familiarizing yourselves with one another, getting more personal and proving yourself over and over as someone reliable and admirable makes it easier and easier for senku to express these feelings for you. and though he doesn’t say the L word out loud, he definitely thinks it with every impressive feat you manage to accomplish or witty remark you make that only solidify his reasoning as to why he’s with you in the first place.

( J ) JEALOUSY — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

not incredibly often, but it’s not unheard of. it’s mostly when hes already overwhelmed with a lot on his plate, and seeing someone chatting you up, even if there wasn’t any flirty intention behind their words or actions, just irritates senku, and he’ll usually break it up by yelling at them to focus up on their work or guiding you away to help him with something else, calling over his shoulder “shouldn’t you be doing ____? how about getting on that instead of distracting our crew?”

it can be subtle, but it can also be very obvious, which leads to people making some teasing remarks toward him for it, but he mostly ignores them. same with classmates, he’ll just redirect their attentions away from you and swoop in to show you something of his own.

( K ) KISSES — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

like hugs, he’s not the biggest kisser, and he’s not the one initiating them. he’s sort of (very) awkward when it comes to kissing in the early stages of your relationship, and it takes a good amount of time before he eventually stops stiffening as much over a kiss on the cheek.

of course you don’t force him into anything he’s uncomfortable with, and have no problem not kissing him, but you can tell from the way he’s more relaxed when you lean over to give him a quick peck when he has a smirk or a pout on the lips that he’s grown to like them just a slight bit on occasion.

if he had to decide on a favorite spot to receive kisses, he’d maybe say his temple. if he were to ever initiate a kiss for you, it would be somewhere less noticeable and in private, such as on your inner wrist or knuckles.

( L ) LITTLE ONES — how are they around children?

so good. he’s stupidly good with them. he doesn’t even do anything consciously to try to appeal to them for the most part; they’re just drawn to his experiments and funny words, and of course senku for the most part indulges them, so he becomes popular pretty quickly.

it’s incredibly endearing to see him interact and form a relationship with the children of ishigami village, watching their curious heads peek from behind his shoulder or back at his experiments and petting their hair when they crowd around him, eagerly asking to play or show them more cool modern inventions.

sometimes he might whisper in their ears to go over to you to watch you do whatever it is you’re most skilled at, and you know immediately whose responsible for the sudden eager crowd of little people around you when your gaze meets senku’s and he shoots you a smirk, with you rolling your eyes in retaliation.

( M ) MORNING — how are mornings spent with them?

maaaaybe slightly controversial take but i think it takes him a bit to properly wake himself up. he’s pretty groggy in the mornings and isn’t fully ready to start the day until an hour or two after he wakes up. however, i can see the sleepiness fading from his system a lot quicker than it does for most people, so if you were to see him at school in the mornings or in a classroom, he’s annoyedly outgoing and cheerful for your taste. still, if you were to spend your mornings together even before all that, you’re usually spending them in silence or having quiet and short conversation.

( N ) NIGHT — how are nights spent with them?

arguably worse than mornings, but this time he’s keeping you awake. he doesn’t go to bed till probably around midnight, and most of his studying time is probably spent in the evenings. if either of you are sleeping over, usually senku has his nose in a book till his eyes get too heavy and he puts it down to rest. he either joins you already curled into bed passed out, or you sit beside him doing whatever you do in the evenings as he sleeps. nights are not all that eventful for you personally, it’s mostly just being in each others’ presence while doing your own things, with occasional conversation here and there.

( O ) OPEN — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly.

the more personal details about himself probably come later. definitely not an all at once person, and most of the time you just have to let him come to revealing stuff on his own terms. when he does, it’s during a time you’re being very sensitive and personal with each other, and it sort of slips out. either then or at another random time where he reveals something new about himself or his background very nonchalantly. you don’t usually call it out, but you’ll try to ask some questions to get him to expand and tuck the knowledge away.

again, he’s not the emotional type, so when it comes to himself and his more personal aspects, it can take a little longer to get information out of him compared to other stuff, such as his passion for and knowledge of science.

( P ) PATIENCE — how easily angered are they?

senku himself has said (if i remember correctly), that he gets irritated and is just good at disguising it. for him to be genuinely angry, however, i think would take quite a bit. he can be over the top in how he reacts when he’s annoyed, but it doesn’t come from a place of genuine rage.

i think in order to anger him, you’d have to insult something he deeply cares about repeatedly, or threaten it. and even then he’s usually good at not letting himself go crazy over it.

he’s rarely ever angry with you, if not at all. you’re both familiar with your banter and teasing, and you know what lines not to cross or not to take certain comments too personally.

( Q ) QUIZZES — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

generally very good at remembering things about you. you don’t expect him to remember every slight off hand comment you make, but he often manages to surprise you when he brings up details that even you forgot you ever shared with him.

he cares about you a lot, and though he’s already pretty attentive, it only enhances when it comes to you discussing aspects about yourself. he’s interested in learning about you, from your hobbies to your fondest memory. whatever it may be, he usually is able to recall it.

( R ) REMEMBER — what is their favourite moment in your relationship?

he likes any sort of moment where he’s spending time with you working on an experiment or discussing something science related. working on the thing he’s most passionate about with the person he loves and cares for the most? those are his favorite times, especially since you’re always so enthusiastic about them, asking him question after question and helping him complete the experiment.

he also likes being able to indulge, and you encouraging him and taking an interest yourself is something he really appreciates. he also thinks it’s incredibly endearing to see you so passionate and curious, and very attractive when you explain your own research and demonstrate your own knowledge and skill. he never forgets how much you contribute to his own growth because of this.

( S ) SECURITY — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

not overly protective unless you were in some sort of danger. even if there was potential for you to get hurt, he still isn’t the most overbearing in his concern. of course, he still likes to do whatever he can to prevent any danger (though he knows you’re capable of handling yourself, it’s more so for his own peace of mind and he just can’t admit to it), and so he does insist you wear protective gear and gives you tools to help you do your job more efficiently in the stone world.

he wouldn’t want you to step in and prevent him from doing anything, but the best way you could protect him is in the same way he protects you—by having his back. being there to provide him with the resources and support he needs in any given situation, especially dangerous ones or endeavors he very passionate about.

( T ) TRY — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

unless you’re a person who doesn’t really like to celebrate relationship milestone or events, senku will make at least some sort of effort to commemorate the moments somehow. again, it’s through more subtle and indirect means, but eventually you’re able to piece together why he seems to be a little nicer and more sentimental on those kinds of days.

gifts are also not always the most straightforward and are usually practical and science related, hand crafted by senku himself, which makes you appreciate them all the more. sometimes they can be too straightforward and basic, however. but if he knows there’s something specific you’ve been indecisive about getting, or a certain place you’ve been meaning to visit, he might surprise you with a trip or take that push to make that purchase for you.

he goes about his everyday tasks outside of science like any other person—or any other teen. he does well in school and helps out around the household with chores.

( U ) UGLY — what would be some bad habits of theirs?

can maybe get a little too distanced from his emotions. he has a bad habit of breaking intimate moments in favour of teasing, but it mostly stems from his own discomfort toward that sort of stuff. he gets better at handling it further into your relationship, but it’s a habit he still has trouble completely breaking down.

he also has a habit of getting too caught up in his experiments. there are certain days where all he wants to do is work, and sometimes that means making the people around him join in and help him. once he’s got his mind on something he’s determined to see it through, and this typically happened often where he wouldn’t pull away from the experiment or project until he gave himself a designated break or was forced to stop due to external factors.

( V ) VANITY — how concerned are they with their looks?

next to not at all. senku can understand wanting to look presentable, but the last thing on his mind is whether or not he should cut his hair a certain way or wear his shirt in a certain style (he’s never expressed a problem with his cowlicks).

he’s probably never stressed out that much about the way he’s perceived in terms of personality either. perhaps only when it came to testing his physical limits or dressing up in clothes that aren’t his own personal style (as seen in the wardrobe montage). but overall he’s not hyperfiaxfing on it, not even to try to impress you (he naturally cleans up well).

his close friends might tell you that he tends to subconsciously adjust his clothes or straighten his back when you walk into a room, however.

( W ) WHOLE — would they feel incomplete without you?

i don’t think so. senku has his own passions and goals and many other people who share them and that he’s close with. he definitely doesn’t need one specific person to make him feel like himself, and that’s one thing you greatly admired about him.

still, just because he thinks he can get by without you doesn’t mean he wants to. he’s always trying to include you in aspects of his life, and you’ve become such a big part of it that it would take him a long time to actually heal from not having you around.

he can’t deny that though it doesn’t feel soul crushing to be apart from you for so long, he can feel a more comfortable and reassuring feeling when he’s by your side.

( X ) XTRA — a random headcanon for them!

he’s really good at impressions thanks to his dad. it’s one of those habits that he really didn’t like but ended up rubbing off on him from how often byakuya did them, and every time he catches himself doing an impression or talking to himself in another voice, he physically stops whatever he’s doing and groans about how he “sounds just like my old man” or “is turning into my old man”.

it makes you laugh though, so he doesn’t feel as embarrassed doing them when he’s voicing a hypothetical situation of some sorts when he’s explaining something to do. if anything, your laughter only encourages him.

( Y ) YUCK — what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

a person who lacks ambition and curiosity. he doesn’t get how he could relate to a person like that at all, let alone spend the rest of his life with them. his partner doesn’t need to be as fiercely passionate about science as he is, but he wouldn’t want a partner that has absolutely no big interests hobbies or skills. those kinds of people seem like the ones he’d be least compatible with.

( Z ) ZZZ — what are their sleep habits?

most of the time tries to get at least 8 hours of sleep, but sometimes tends to get a little less. it’s important for him to have a healthy sleeping cycle/schedule so his brain and body can work to their full capacity. he can still function without a lot of it, but it’s harder on his mental and physical strength, so it’s even more important that he gets enough to keep him going throughout the day.

very rarely pulls an all nighter. has definitely pulled a couple, but it’s not often enough to have his body adjust to simply two hours of sleep without any side effects.

like i said before, he tends to cuddle in on himself, wrapping the blanket over his shoulders so he’s completely covered. cannot sleep well in the heat, so he’d rather be freezing at night. adjusts himself maybe a couple of times throughout the night, from curling against your leg to turning his back toward you.

#wrote something to make up for all the writing i HAVENT been doing #as always life has been busy. #bjt i miss m’y boy #dr stone x reader #dr stone oneshot #dr stone fluff #drst x reader #drst oneshot #drst fluff #senku ishigami x reader #senku ishigami fluff #senku ishigami oneshot

[m00nlight-ramblings]

AU Halsin College Boyfriend Headcanon

Requested: yes

Actually obsessed with this AU. Halsin as a college student makes me laugh you know he would be the biggest party animal ever.

This man is playing sports. I see like, football? But could really do any of them. He is a himbo and loves being on a team...his teammates are some of his best friends.

He leaves things in your dorm room, like it's an apartment...clothes, toothbrush, his favorite stuffed bear he loves to sleep with, snacks...

And in turn, he loves having your things at his place. He keeps all of your favorite snacks stocked, and it seems like every time you visit, he has a new little gift for you...slippers, new pjs, etc.

MOVIE NIGHTS. He loooooves watching movies with you, all snuggled in bed after dinner.

If he sees you walking across the quad, he will immediately b-line for you and walk you to your next class, even if it makes him late (its okay, his professors love him).

Be prepared to never carry your books or backpack ever again.

When it's a nice day on campus, he can be found on the lawn with a big group of people, hanging out on blankets and soaking up the sun.

Speaking of "big groups of people"...Halsin is someone who loves to meet all types of people, and is friends with everyone. He doesn't fit in with any clique, and he always invites everyone he knows to sit with him if he sees them in the cafeteria.

You two are known on campus as the College Sweethearts...everyone knows you'll be together forever and live happily ever after.

He somehow has managed to know where you sit every class, and every once and a while, you'll find a little candy/treat/card on your desk when you get into class. Just because.

He is definitely an environment science major.

Halsin throws the biggest and best (definitely most notorious) parties with his friends. I'm talking red solo cups on the lawn, possibly a broken window or two...absolutely wild.

And everyone is invited, of course.

He is not afraid to show PDA to you...stolen kisses in the hallway, holding your hand while you walk...he is proud to call you his partner.

You absolutely have to keep him on track with homework for every class, unless the class involves nature or animals. He has his definite interests, and if it doesn't fall into that category, he thinks there are much better things he could be doing.

Definitely loves weekend naps with you. If he's not at practice or class, he's snuggling with you under the blankets until the sun goes down.

Then, it's date night, which he always plans. Fancy dinners, long drives, the mall, going to museums...he loves doing everything with you.

His favorite drink at a party is a vodka Redbull. It just makes sense.

He makes sure you (and all his friends) have enough water while at house parties. He will NOT let you have a second drink on an empty stomach or without having at least 8 oz of water in between.

He decorates your dorm door for every holiday, to make sure you stay in the holiday spirit, no matter what holiday it is. (And also, just to cheer you up if you're feeling down or stressed with homework).

THE LOUDEST AT GAMES!!! If he's in the stands, he is SCREAMING in support.

You get a "ice cream?" text at least once a week from him at around midnight. Before you can even respond you hear a honk from your window and see him standing outside his car, ready to drive you to Dairy Queen.

Halsin LOVES making you playlists of songs that remind him of you, or ones that he thinks you'd like.

Always reps the college merch - sweatpants, sweatshirts, he loves it. He's proud he's in school!

He definitely chases the ducks at the school pond when he sees them.

#halsin romance #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin x you #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin au #halsin headcanons #halsin headcanon

[lets-try-some-writing]

Random question, but how good do you think the ‘Bots and ‘Cons would be at cooking? Does the Matrix happen to have any tips or knowledge of the culinary arts? Would the kids be of any assistance to the ‘Bots, or would they also fail at cooking? For some reason I think Miko would be really bad at making anything with more than 5 steps but make a really good grilled cheese sandwich. You think they would fare any better at baking?

Heck yeah this is funny.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Cooking on Earth

As a general rule, cooking is not really a thing on Cybertron, at least not as it is on Earth. The process of creating energon based fuels and treats is more of a purification than any real chemical bonding or serious alteration as commonly seen in human culinary works. As such, when the team brought the children under their care and were then hit with the realization that they needed to fuel their small wards, issues arose immediately.

Arcee could hardly process normal energon, much less cook anything to save her life. The only human food she is capable of putting together is boxed macaroni and cheese. Even then, it still isn't all that good. She either adds too much butter or none at all. Her milk additions make dish look more like cereal than anything else and quite frankly she somehow manages to burn the noodles despite that fact that it should be nearly impossible. The children don't like her attempts at cooking, but if pressed, they will consume her noodle dish. She has attempted baking but has only succeeded in burning the wall in an attempt to quote "make sure the cake was fully baked".

She is not allowed in the kitchen alone. Ever.

Bulkhead has been met with limited success in all things gelatin. He can't make much else unless he is putting sauce on pre-ordered food, but gelatin he can do. On Cybertron he was known amongst the Wreckers for his banger jellied energon, even earning minor praise from Ultra Magnus. Thankfully for everyone, the same general concept applies to human jellied treats, and so Bulkhead is able to make gelatin without killing anyone. Of course his flavor profiles are rather... off. He has no clue what actually is constituted as good food for including in gelatin, but he tries his best.

Smokescreen and Bumblebee can make a mean grilled cheese, but only if they are working together. One must have their optics on the food while the other plays music in the background while grating cheese. If either of them get distracted or only one is present, the results are wild and worthy of a fire extinguisher. Bee has attempted soup before, and surprisingly, once in a blue moon he can make a really good potato soup. It is close enough to preparing energon rations that he can manage it occasionally. Smokescreen though? He has been given a lifetime ban from the stove. He somehow manages to make a really good salad despite that. It is largely just him throwing random green things in the fridge into a bowl, but it works generally.

Ratchet does not cook. Optimus has forbidden him to cook despite the Doctor wishing to figure out the strange science. The only time he tried cooking, he made actual poison and almost fed it to the kids thinking it was a nutrient dense supplement. Since then he has been confined to the realms of baking, which thankfully, is not too foreign since he can and has made spectacular energon goodies in the past. He knows how to work heat related tools well enough to make really good cupcakes. He can't do frosting though. Its always chunky or pure liquid sugar. Miko still eats them, even if they are a little burned sometimes.

Ultra Magnus can cook, on both Cybertron AND Earth. He just refuses to do so. Period.

Optimus for his part, despite his knowledge, can cook in theory. He knows how it should work, and so largely depending on the resources given to him and his level of focus, he can make a mean dish on Cybertron and Earth. His specialty on both worlds is a variant of shepherds pie, something he lived and vented back on Cybertron due to how cheap it was at the local restaurant. Of course the names of the dishes and the ingredients differ, but the concept remains the same. And so as long as the dish requires no decorum, Optimus can make it fairly well. However if asked to bake, the Prime physically cannot. The singular time he made the attempt, he came away covered in soot and with a lifetime ban from the baking items.

When it comes to the Decepticons, Megatron does not cook, period. On Cybertron he was a fantastic brewer of high grade, but that skill does not translate over well. On the Nemesis, he has a small personal brewing station where he will occasionally whip something up for himself. But that is a rare treat. He has taken the time to study human brewing methods though, largely out of a desire to mock their efforts. This of course led to some experimentation on his end, which in turn resulted in better high grade than what he was capable of producing before. He will never admit where the jump in skill came from.

Knockout and Breakdown love to make cake specifically. They can't even eat the stuff, but they like seeing how big and how grand they can make it. Hours are spent dutifully baking cakes to perfection, molding them, and then decorating them. Usually its done after Cybertronian sites, but off an on they will make human tourist locations out of cake. Breakdown also experiments with chocolate and has become relatively good at making realistic chocolate molds. These, along with Knockout's cakes, he takes to different places around the globe to donate. He may not be fond of humans, but waste is not acceptable.

Starscream is by far the best chef out of all present Cybertronians, and that is only because he fragging hates that Gordan Ramsey is better than he is at it. Starscream has devoted a ridiculous amount of time to cooking JUST so that he can curse right back at the human chef and prove himself superior. No, he does not know where it stemmed from. No, he cannot even eat what he makes. But frag it all he will get that beef wellington right or he will die trying. However against all expectation considering his considerable cooking ability on Earth, he can't cook on Cybertron to save his life. He never needed to, so he never learned.

Shockwave doesn't cook. He makes purified energon and that is all. He doesn't even bother learning anything else. Why would he? Its not like he can taste or appreciate anything complicated. Arachnid does not cook either, and that is largely because she sees it as beneath her. Soundwave is in a similar boat and does not bother... unless it comes to making cat treats. Those he will go through the pain of working with tiny human tools to manage in order to lure in the furry creatures.

Dreadwing can only make noodles. And only from the box. He has no explanation.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #megatron #soundwave #shockwave #smokescreen #bulkhead #arcee #starscream #knockout #I aint tagging the rest #crack #enjoy yall

[yume-yuurei]

Sugar overdose

Trey Clover × reader

Synopsis: There's this one student in NRC... he always seems to look out for you, expressing his care and making your forced stay in Twisted Wonderland more bearable. Though there are some things about him that you stay oblivious to...

TW for: mild yandere, drugging/food poisoning (?) (basically unconscious potion consumption), stalking (if you can call it that), overall creepy-ish behavior. If you're uncomfortable with any of aforementioned topics, do not proceed, please. :з

(the whole thing might seem rushed or unfinished, forgive me if so, I'm still gaining experience in writing. ^^")

He's always been there.

Since when you first got dropped into this world, Clover has always been somewhere in sight. It was hard to stop your gaze at just one thing when there were so many wonders you'd never seen before, so you never paid him much mind, not until the Heartslabyul incident, at least. Before you could only catch a glimpse of him in the cafeteria or exchange short greetings in the halls, but the first overblot gave him a push to change the matters. First he started calling out to you when seeing you in crowd, then he worked up some courage to ask for greeting hugs (or at least handshakes when you weren't in the mood), and at some point decided to strike up a conversation: one, two, five, to the point where you'll find him approaching you almost every day, helping out with chores, carrying groceries, sharing notes and helping with homework, staying over for night, and-

When did he manage to get so close?

Windows in NRC's alchemy lab expose one's eyes to unique views; usually it's already way past noon when classes end, enough so the sun starts setting by that time, painting the vast free skies in deep shades of pink and yellow. Wisps of colorful cotton clouds frame the canvas, giving finishing touches to the majestic evening painting. And the centre piece of the gallery of nature - the biggest wonder, an anomaly of this world, not unlike a shy flower on a fragile stem blooming among concrete plates or snowdrifts, - the prefect. Rays of dying light wrap around their figure perfectly. They come here every day, doing small chores for professors with the company of the infamous duo of freshmen-troublemakers. Still, even the boys' robust nature and somewhat graceless behavior cannot spoil the picturesque scene.

He lays his books out on a table closest to windows, having already claimed the space for himself ever since he joined the Science club. At first it was all about convenience: pretty views on the school gardens give him inspiration for new recipes, wide tables allow to keep his space as neat as possible and prevent any hazards (no more spilled flasks or lost papers - much easier to work now), fresh air when the room gets suffocating or his cooking experiments go wrong.

Now it opens another, a little less innocent in nature, opportunity for the young man - to keep a close eye on the cute magicless student. Actually, when you think about it, the fact is not perverse. Is it really wrong of him, a true older brother at heart, to protect those who are weaker than him in many senses of the word? If anything, he's only doing them a favor - prefect always expressed their appreciation of his help whenever they had gotten in a difficult situation with teachers or delinquents, so surely they would've found the notion to be sweet.

Sweet is the first word that comes to mind when you talk to Trey. It's not even only about his personality (the way the man treats his dormmates alone is enough of a proof; putting others' health and wants before his own, prioritizing their happiness, going out of his way to keep things peaceful). Smell of sugar and vanilla follows him everywhere: in classes, in hallways, in his room. You can smell sugar and caramel on his uniform every time Trey comes up to you for a 'good morning' hug. It's hard to resist the temptation to press closer, if only to have more - to get drunk on the overwhelming aroma and warmth.

He'd be lying if he said the prefect's preference for good perfume went over his head. Trey heard them compliment Schoenheit and Hunt for their cologne and seen how they pull away in mock disgust when Ace gets touchy after a particularly long basketball practice. Perceptive to smell. That's where his main hobby comes in handy: when one spends a great part of their day in the kitchen, they're bound to carry out some of its homey atmosphere with hints of cinnamon.

"Good morning! Don't forget to pack your gym uniform, your class has Flying lesson today."

Isn't that nice of him to leave you little notes and reminders? His attentiveness never fails to make you swoon.

"Have you eaten yet? Remember to heat up some lunch for yourself."

"I hope you're not staying up late again? Go to bed before I come over and make sure you do personally. >:("

"Your outfit today was really cute... I mean, you sure are good at styling clothes! Just wanted to make a compliment, don't take it wrong. :)"

Though sometimes his comments sound too... personal. Have you ever actually told him of your schedule? How does he know about your preference? Even Ace and Deuce, who you spend most of your time with, don't know and don't seem to remember that much. 

Prefect favors others way more than they should. Does the spoiled lion prince deserve being pampered by them? Do the troublesome freshmen not annoy them? How can they parade around, gathering crowds around themselves, stealing hearts of each and every student they encounter, and still treat him with such disregard? "Trey's such a mom friend" this and "I wish I had an older brother like him!" that.

I don't feel the same for you.

Why wouldn't you see how I slowly burn for you?

Even now, the dessert he left at your kitchen counter in Ramshackle is lacking flaws. Even layers of frosting, small edible decorations made out of chocolate - it's an intricate work, a miniature piece of art beloved by its creator, with so much time spent over it. And all for you?

Under the plate hosting the sweet treat is a piece of paper. You carefully slip the note from under the plate and read it, eyes crinkling at the corners at the thought of somebody putting so much effort to make you happy.

"I noticed you've been gloomy all day; please, enjoy this little treat. It's a new recipe of mine, so I hope you'll enjoy this."

There was no need to sign the note - identity of the sender was as clear as day. With a fond light and eyes and a prep in step, you move to set a kettle on the stove to prepare some tea - a chamomile blend gifted to you by Jade (he did sound proud of his blends). Not able to resist temptation, you find a fork and lift a portion of the dessert to your lips, taking in its enchanting smell. Cream melts on your tongue, texture contrasting the bright filling and bringing out a new kind of flavor. Tea long abandoned, you take another bite to savor it, sighing in content.

He truly was a master of his art, especially if his work managed to bring your guard down with little to no effort. It was all too late when you noticed how the cold filling tickled your throat, or how your fingers grew colder with each second passed. Staying steady on two feet has never been so hard before, as white noise overwhelmed your senses, disorienting, separating from reality. Seconds flash by in static pictures, and by the time he approached you from behind, there was nothing to do to hold onto consciousness.

There they are now, safe in his arms, not turning or running away anymore. Cradled close to a warm chest, burning with deepest of earthy desires, full of selfish wanting and a new blossom of hope, their heart would soon answer his calling. For a magicless human is no match to the power of true love.

He will always hold you near.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #yandere twst #yandere #i hope the tagging is okay? still unsure how to do this #please let me know if i should add something! #really felt like writing something yandere-ish...

[heliads]

because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!

'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov

masterlist

There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.

Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.

And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.

That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.

You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.

Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now:  curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.

You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.

And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.

Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.

You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream:  the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.

You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–

He was a prince.

Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.

The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.

Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.

You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.

The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.

So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.

No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed. 

A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.

You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?

It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.

However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.

“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.

She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”

She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”

The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.

You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens:  you feel better.

You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”

“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”

You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?

The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.

Almost.

The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.

The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.

Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.

Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”

You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.

It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.

You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.

The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.

Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.

Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.

Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.

You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.

“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.

Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.

You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.

“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.

Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”

“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”

“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.

“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”

You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.

“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”

This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”

The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”

He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”

You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”

Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”

You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”

Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small. 

Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what’s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov oneshot #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse oneshot #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone oneshot #nikolai #nikolai imagines #nikolai x reader #nikolai oneshot #grishaverse nikolai #grishaverse nikolai imagines #grishaverse nikolai x reader #grishaverse nikolai oneshot

[headspace-hotel]

a friend of mine said that the environment would be better if everyone lived in cities and basically left the rest of the natural world alone... i felt like there was something wrong with that argument but i really dont know enough about it to have a real point against it. i might be biased though cause i love being around nature and want to be able to live rural without killing the environment? idk im just wondering if she's right and how to live in a way that isnt negatively impacting the world

love your blog btw, it's been the thing that's helped me understand ecology for once

the idea that humans Are Bad for the ecosystem—not that particular activities or practices have particular negative effects, that just humans existing harms the environment—is in fact the worst idea ever

I mean, first of all, where does your friend think food comes from?

"Food" is one of the problems. It's one of a lot of problems. Some other problems include "all other natural resources besides food" and "human rights."

It's not just your friend, this kind of thing has been suggested in varying ways by self identified "leftists" a bunch of times, and I genuinely hope they're mostly random laypeople who can't really be expected to know more than they can learn from being terminally addicted to Twitter, because otherwise I will call them "dumber than a sack of hammers" in those exact words.

No offense to your friend. Your friend is a laypeople. And sadly, non-experts end up with ass-backwards ideas about how conserving the environment works, because of all this commonplace nonsense about humans being a cancer upon the planet. I'm not angry about those people, just sad.

But my serious answer is—The world's most intact and best managed ecosystems are found on land owned and managed by Indigenous people, who do what with the land?

LIVE ON IT.

And these groups of people learned to manage and care for the land how?

BY LIVING ON IT.

Conventional (white, Western) intuition holds that human management of an ecosystem should reduce biodiversity, but what science shows—I mean what study and observation and data and more study and more observation and more data shows—is that indigenous land management practices can do better than Nature can on her own.

I mean, for one thing, if you don't live in a place, you don't observe it every day. You don't see how the ecosystem and its inhabitants change over time. You can't learn about it, and therefore you don't know about it.

Disconnection from nature is ignorance about nature and ultimately apathy towards nature, and that's the worst and most disrespectful thing we can do.

And like I hope it's clear that even in the imaginary scenario where everyone lives in a city, even if this was possible (it's not), the city dwellers who are separate from nature are living a silly little lie. You're part of the ecosystem. Don't like it? Go become a rock in space.

The electrical signals moving through your brain right now are rays of sunlight that were soaked up by a plant that grew in dirt. Do you know fruit? Do you enjoy fruit? I enjoy fruit, I'm drinking a smoothie right now! That fruit y'all love so much was pollinated by a bug.

A bug did that for you! Because you're family! Because you're part of this world, because you belong to this intricate and ancient community of living things that need each other, that were shaped by evolution to need each other, and nature cannot abandon you.

But more on the cynical side of things, even if you don't know where the hell a berry grows or how, someone has to grow and harvest and ship that berry to you, someone who has to live somewhere, and you should care who is doing it and how they're being treated and paid, and ultimately you should want for them the same things you want for you.

Urban life is just rural life with extra steps my friend.

Like, @ all the "put everybody in cities" crowd, what is the plan here? Fancy ass indoor aquaponics systems notwithstanding, we're not technologically at a point where we can just, like, build giant multi-story factory buildings where we grow food under special lamps, and even being at that point wouldn't make it a good idea. With all the hype about solar power, you'd think people would look at plants (have been using solar power just fine for like a billion years) and think, "Neat how those things can just make food when you stick 'em in the sunshine."

I'm sorry, I'm never going to be psyched about technological innovations that are like "We took a plant and put it inside."

There is so much I could say here. The brainrot in the wake of "cottagecore" discourse where a bunch of well meaning white people got convinced that farming was racist. The idea that rural people are somehow more complicit in colonialism than urban people, and that rural land is, I don't know, landier than urban land, and the correct and moral thing to do if you live on stolen land is to....what? Live on land that has a protective layer of concrete in between it and your racist feet?

Land ownership is a whole fucked up beast, but you're not cultivating a non-exploitative relationship with land by living in a city. There's just extra steps in between you and the land.

"Homesteading" as seen on cottagecore boards on Pinterest has a lot of white supremacist wet dream mixed in, but listen: It is not only okay, but GOOD, to want to live in close relationship with the land, with the food you eat, with the trees and plants that fill your lungs when you inhale. It's IMPORTANT. It's VITAL.

What has to change is that this relationship can't be based on ownership and dominance. Ecosystem is community and that ain't it.

My ancestors were colonizers, the land I live on right now was violently stolen, the ecosystem that once was very carefully managed so that it flourished with life was ravaged, and I don't even know the names of most of the life-forms that ought to be here. What now?

You belong to the ecosystem that takes care of you. You can't wash your hands of this and run away.

I feel like I'm getting off topic, but it's very much on topic actually. What I hope for the future is that we would stop entertaining the silly little lies that imagine we can just...opt out of participation in something that is underneath our every footstep and in our every breath. It would make us feel pure, but it wouldn't be real.

I do think that forcing people off the land that is their home is bad, in general. I don't think those people have to be indigenous for this to be bad—and successfully claiming otherwise is a bit of conundrum, since as far as I know, the political and social phenomenon of indigenous identity has a lot to do with the being forced off your land thing.

Obviously people like me don't have the same deeply central cultural relationship to the land, but the "we should all just go live in cities and leave nature to itself" proposal implies that such relationships are unnecessary or even bad.

I've said this before but I find it weird when environmentalists accommodate indigenous ways of life in their visions of the ideal future as like...a special exception granted because it's like, the nice thing to do for a historically marginalized and violently oppressed group. Not because there is value or merit in those ways of life. Like "Oh I guess indigenous people should be allowed to hunt because it's part of their culture" ????? And it's part of their culture because...why?

Maybe because it's a sustainable way of doing things and has been for millennia???

Like don't listen to me, look at the research, indigenous folks participating in ecosystems and managing them worldwide know what they're doing and the rest of the world should be looking to them as examples. Key word here is participating, because you can't competently manage an ecosystem with your head all the way up your ass with the idea that you're somehow not part of it.

Humans aren't a cancer upon the planet. It's capitalism and colonialism. It's the practice of seeing the world as a disposable resource to be exploited.

Humans lived in the place I called home for 15,000 years. Within the past 200 years, almost every forest was razed to the ground, and almost every large animal extirpated or damn near to it.

"Humans" did that! These humans are so terrible!

But I have to remember.

There are descriptions of this place from before that, and they describe a lush, teeming heaven-like paradise that the adjectives provided by English trembled to capture, so perfect and bountiful that the observers assumed this land was never tainted by Adam's sin.

Humans did that, too.

#ecology

[spirk-trek]

I always love when spock has to ask mccoy to help him understand his feelings for jim

now on ao3!

i'm so sorry to this anon who waited so long for me to finish this prompt *cries* i have never written anything from mccoy's pov and wanted to challenge myself... and oh boy, was it a challenge. i feel like it turned out kind of (very) boring and maybe not so good but i tried my best with something new!

~*~*~*~

Spock had cultivated an arsenal of excuses to get himself into sick bay when he didn’t really need to be. Some were more convincing than others, but over the years Doctor McCoy had come to consider himself a damn near expert at identifying them. At least, he eventually identified them. Once he managed to stop being annoyed. 

“What in the blazes- Spock! Get your hands off my equipment!”

“Doctor,” he greeted, raising a brow and pausing whatever the hell he was doing with several panels removed from the wall. McCoy stared at him, swelling with rage.

“I leave this room for one damn minute-!”

“Actually, you were absent for nine minutes, eighteen-”

“Dammit Spock,” McCoy gritted his teeth and begged whatever gods might be listening for strength. “��You have eighteen seconds to tell me what you’re doing before I tranquilize you.”

Spock’s mouth closed with a well-then expression, eyes widening just enough that McCoy might’ve felt accomplished if he didn’t have a six patient backup in the transporter room. He watched as Spock deposited the components onto an empty biobed- the only one remaining, mind you- and placed both arms behind his back to face the doctor squarely. 

“I am here to calibrate your newly installed biofilters to include the latest blood-type data sets.”

McCoy blinked, then helplessly gestured to the chaos surrounding them. “I'm a little busy here, if you hadn't noticed. Can it wait?”

“Hardly.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and squinted. Two can play at that game.  

“Medical equipment, eh? Since when are you our go-to guy for that?”

Both Vulcan brows eased their tension, rising to meet the dark curve of his bangs. “I am not. However, considering the fact you are currently treating Lieutenant Macsen, as an experienced science officer I am the most qualified individual to-”

McCoy groaned and uncrossed his arms to toss them at Spock impatiently. “Yeah, yeah, alright but-” he jabbed a finger at him. “But you're acting Captain now, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be on the bridge? ”

Spock’s eyes slipped away. It was only for a moment, but that was enough. Gotcha.

“The danger has passed,” Spock eventually answered, careful mask back in place. “I can be of assistance here.”

“You sure?” A smug grin was spreading over McCoy’s features. Spock tilted his head in consideration of him, likely knowing he was in trouble. Damn right. “So this ain’t just an excuse to check up on Jim, then?”

As if he had forgotten his excuse, Spock gathered several of the discarded components back in his hands, answering only once his back was turned. “I assure you, doctor, my only concern is the efficiency with which your facilities are capable of treating the biologically unique individuals awaiting care.” He paused, both his speech and his hands, which were simultaneously reconnecting a tangle of wires. His chin tipped back over his shoulder just enough for McCoy to see downcast eyes stuck to the floor. “It is a logical endeavor. There is no need to question it.”

McCoy set down his medical tricorder with a thud and glared at the back of Spock’s head. “Uh-huh,” he muttered, chewing the corner of his mouth. “Well, if you're not here to bother me, carry on with your ‘logical endeavor.’ Just make it snappy. I got patients to heal.”

He left the goddamned hole in his wall to do a lap around the med bay, asking after patient conditions and giving orders where needed. When he got back around to where he started, he was pleased to find the wall panels more or less back in place. He was even more pleased to catch Spock peering down the line of beds, even craning his neck to do so. Gotcha again.

He knew already, of course, which bed was the subject of Spock’s nosiness. Nurse Chapel was there, standing over an unconscious, battered, and idiotic (in McCoy's professional opinion) Captain James T. Kirk. The man looked downright pitiful with his uniform torn and bloodied, neck supported on either side by braces. 

I’ll be damned if I’m gonna say anything. He wants to know? He’s gonna have to ask.

Spock never asked, though. He suffered in silence, like a damn ascetic. The doctor sighed, knowing already he didn’t have this particular fight in him. Not now. Not today. 

“He’s gonna be alright, Spock. He’s had worse.”

At being addressed, Spock hastily resumed what appeared to be the last of his tinkering. McCoy watched him quietly, trying- unsuccessfully, as always- to read the unyielding Vulcan façade he so effortlessly constructed moment by moment. 

“I acknowledge that the Captain's injuries are not likely to be fatal.”

“More n’ not likely. He’s gonna live, and he’s gonna thank me for it.”

Spock said nothing, simply pressing the final strip of wall back into place. He slid his hand over the seam to ensure there was no protrusion before ultimately turning around to face McCoy again.

“Once more, my concern lies with the efficiency of the ship's functions. The Captain's well-being is, logically, a crucial component of that efficiency. Is that not correct, doctor?” 

McCoy scowled, not buying a damn word. He knew Spock wanted him to agree. To hand him his own excuse back on a silver platter. Not gonna happen.

“Well, if you were worried about him,” he cajoled, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "you might have a point. He took quite the beating down there.” 

Spock shifted, and another bolt of triumph shot through McCoy’s core. 

“It has been my experience that the Captain possesses a remarkable ability to defy all odds.” 

Leonard barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sap. 

“Still. Haven’t you people ever heard of hand phasers? They have a couple hundred meter range, you know, but no. You just have to get up close n’ personal.”

Spock’s gaze hardened. McCoy knew that meant his bluff had been called.  

“Doctor. You have already indicated that the Captain’s injuries are not of long term concern. Are you rescinding that assessment?”

McCoy sighed, any remaining sense of accomplishment fleeing him. He was just about to damn his attempt at getting a proper rise out of Spock when he saw him turn a glance toward Jim’s vital signs, checking them. Not very Vulcan of you, he thought, even as a pang of pity won out over the desire to dig his thumbs in and yank.

“I, uh…” He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Listen, Spock. Since you’re here, I’ve been waiting what feels like a century to get my tricorders synced with the medical catalog we integrated from Nomalis III.” He looked at Spock pointedly before jerking his head in the direction of the storage cabinets. “Think you have time to get to them, too?”

He nodded once. “Certainly. I will assess their status presently.”

And if he noticed a stroke of gratitude in Spock’s immediate acceptance, he wasn’t about to claim responsibility for it.

*   *   *   *   *

Sometimes, the visits were shorter.

Leonard glanced up from his screen, raising a brow at Spock's unexpected presence on the other side of his automatic doors.

“Spock,” he greeted warily, one eyebrow raised. “You finally taking me up on that open nurse position?”

With a look he’d no doubt deny was annoyance, and a breath he’d definitely deny was a sigh, Spock placed his hands at the small of his back. “Negative, doctor. I require a medical examination for a minor injury sustained during our most recent expenditure.”

“You? Injured?” He set his PADD down and pushed it away, leaning over his desk toward the other. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It is a minor contusion,” Spock explained promptly. “I deemed it necessary to ensure my optimal functionality.”

The Vulcan presented his hand between them, fingers outstretched, a thin line of green wrapping around the palm and over his first knuckle. With a frown, McCoy stood and gestured for Spock to take a seat on the nearest biobed, coming to stand beside him as he snapped on a pair of gloves. He pulled the marked hand into the light, turning it at different angles. It was half healed at best, shallow at worst.

“You know, Spock,” McCoy murmured as he looked, “I don’t tolerate malingering.”

“Proof of my injury is visible, doctor. Or did your medical training not prepare you for superficial wounds?

“Ha ha,” McCoy deadpanned, noticeably less gentle as he flipped the hand back over and dropped it. “It’s already started healing, so I can’t use a stitcher. A treatment bandage overnight should do it, with that Vulcan metabolism of yours.” 

He busied himself with a nearby drawer, pulling the right type of bandage from its depths. Once he had Spock’s hand back in his, he cleared his throat and began wrapping it.

“You didn't come all the way down here for a papercut, did you?”

Steely blue eyes flashed upward, but Spock wasn’t looking down to meet them. McCoy rolled them instead, annoyance mounting.

“I discharged him twenty minutes ago, y'know.”

He refused to look up again when Spock’s posture went rigid, his fingers flexing unconsciously against his newly coiled bandage. To McCoy's shock, he didn’t even bother denying that’s what he was really after. 

“The venom was of an unidentified variety.”

“I identified it.”

“And his symptoms? They were-”

“Severe, yes. Keyword there being were .” He smirked, but Spock was still looking straight ahead. It quickly curled into a frown. “I healed him. That's what doctors do.”

Spock said nothing in response, though a crease appeared between his brows as he watched McCoy seal his bandage with a whirr of instrumentation. 

“Anyway,” he turned in his chair, wheeling to a shelf to pull out a bottle of pain capsules he knew Spock would refuse. “I confined him to quarters until morning, if that's what- hey!” The doors were swishing as he turned back around, and despite knowing he wouldn’t hear it, he still called after Spock bitterly.

“You’re welcome!”

*   *   *   *   *

Sometimes, the excuses weren’t really excuses at all.

“Doctor,” Spock greeted upon being let into McCoy's office. He blinked in surprise at the vision before him; Spock was pacing, hands clasped tightly behind his back, gaze down on the floor. He watched him take two trips from wall to wall before clearing his throat.

“Why yes, Spock?” he asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes to no effect.

“I have come to report increased stress levels, resulting in loss of sleep.” 

McCoy’s eyebrows shot up. He placed his resequencer aside, immediately forgetting whatever he’d been doing with it. It’d still be there later, but this. This, he had to hear.

“Stress, Spock? That doesn’t sound like you one bit.”

“Stress is a natural reaction to disturbed mental equilibrium.”

“Would you please stand still?”

The Vulcan froze in his tacks, looking down at himself as if he hadn’t even realized he was in motion until that moment.

“That’s better. Now, what is going on with you?”

Spock, for a moment, looked explicitly uncomfortable. The lines of Leonard's face ironed out in shock. That level of transparency was, in Vulcan terms, something like an outright confession. He might as well be singing Shakespeare from rooftops.

“I’m waiting,” he eventually probed when Spock didn’t answer, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

Spock shut his eyes. “Captain Kirk has recently… developed a closer association with a civilian on board.”

Oh. McCoy couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the pretty copper-haired thing he’d seen hanging off Jim’s arm that morning. And the morning before that. And the morning before that.

“Kaylia, right?”

“My concern ,” Spock continued as if McCoy hadn’t spoken, his eyes meeting some spot beyond them both, “stems from the potential risk such emotional entanglements pose to our current endeavor.”

McCoy’s smile curved into something dangerous.

“I see, I see… So, the Captain’s love life. That’s what’s stressing you out, is it?”

Spock’s jaw worked from side to side. “I fail to see the relevance of his personal relationships to my emotional state.”

And damn him, Leonard actually believed that. He leaned in, fixing Spock with an intense stare.

“Look, Spock. I'm a doctor, not a counselor, but I've seen the way you look at Jim.” He raised a hand when Spock opened his mouth, no doubt to deny it or try to explain the accusation away. “This ain’t just about the ship, or your current endeavor, or whatever the hell we’re calling it today.” When Spock didn’t answer, McCoy’s harshness receded slightly. He could feel it shrink within him, going from hot to cold in an instant. 

“There's something more there,” he continued earnestly. They were well past it being a question. It was a damn fact as far as he was concerned, and he was sick and tired of pretending it wasn’t. “Way I see it is, you may be a Vulcan, you may have even fooled yourself, but you're not fooling anyone else.” 

In the end, that got Spock’s attention. The dark eyes that swiveled down to meet his had a dangerous flicker to them. An ember he couldn’t help but stoke.

“I've known Jim a lot longer ‘n you have, and this? This ain’t about a single thing except you being jealous .”

Spock's mask wavered, another current of vulnerability passing over him like a spectre.  When he finally broke his silence, he spoke with a voice that was measured and low.

“That is a highly illogical hypothesis, doctor. I am not capable of experiencing jealousy, and even if such were the case-”

“Oh, cut the crap, Spock. I've known you long enough, too. You've got feelings, and they're more n' just friendly when it comes to Jim.”

Spock raised a brow, the barest hint of a frown crossing his features. 

“It is not… ‘crap.’”

“It is crap,” McCoy snapped, smacking an open palm against his desk. Spock stared at it stiffly. “Admit it, Spock! Seeing him with someone else is tearing you up inside." He narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth in a not-quite grin. Struck a nerve, did I? "How many days has it been since you slept, anyway? Have you gotten a wink since she walked onto this ship?”

“Your analysis is flawed," Spock spoke quickly, his speech pressured in a way the doctor hadn't heard before. "I am merely concerned with the Captain's ability to remain impartial. These matters often do not work out favorably.”

McCoy shook his head. “So, what? You’re worried she’ll break his heart?”

Spock didn’t react other than to pull his lips into a thin line.

“Ah, no. You're worried she won't.”

Spock was speaking again before McCoy had even finished accusing him, and if he had to give it a name he'd say he sounded downright irritated. Yeah, well, join the club.

“I am not governed by emotions. I am not worried, nor am I jealous-”

“Yes you are.”

“Furthermore, my feelings would be irrelevant regardless of-”

“Irrelevant my foot .”

A pause. “That doesn’t-”

“All’s I’m sayin’, Spock,” McCoy raised his hand and his voice to cut the other off, eyes screwing shut in his frustration. “You might want to face those feelings head-on before they gut you.”

They held each other's gaze for a prolonged moment, McCoy’s silent office beginning to feel heavier and darker than before.

“As you have already pointed out, doctor,” Spock spoke quietly now, the tide of irritation ebbing away. “You are not a counselor. I am here to seek a simple sleep aid, if one is available.” 

After several more seconds, Leonard finally broke their eye contact to slam a drawer open. He tossed the bottle of pills at Spock, who caught them with cat-like reflexes that annoyed him more than it should have. Spock held the bottle low and looked down at the capsules, watching them fall over each other as he twisted the bottle side to side. McCoy bit his tongue, waiting... and what’ll you know? It paid off for once.

“Suppose your hypothesis is correct,” the Vulcan eventually murmured without looking up. “What is the solution?”

McCoy blinked. “Spock.”

Only then did their eyes meet again. McCoy sighed.

“Emotions don’t have solutions. Alright?” A ripple of impatience pushed itself into a frown on Spock’s lips. “But,” he continued, “they do have causes. Usually, anyway. Is that- Does that make any kinda sense to you?” Spock nodded once, straightening his spine. McCoy considered for a moment, his lips pursed. “Jealousy, for example, is usually caused by…” He leveled a careful look at the other man. “Well, I don’t have to tell you. It’s biblical.” Seeing the bewildered expression beginning to take shape, he rushed to clarify. “A tale as old as time. You want to be in her place.”

Spock averted his gaze again, then shook his head once. “I do not.”

“I don’t mean you want to be a diplomat, or a pretty redhead, or on the mind of every man aboard this ship.” He let out a short huff of breath. “Just the one man, right? And he’s currently off on some observation deck somewhere…” McCoy trailed off when he noticed Spock’s hands flex around the bottle, taking a moment to send some irritated thoughts Jim's way. Blind, stupid idiot.

“Am I getting anything right, here?”

Spock rolled his shoulders. “This is… not my area of expertise.” 

“I know,” he said in a way he hoped was kind. He meant it to be kind, anyway. “Like I said, there ain’t a solution to feelings, but... In this situation, there are a few outcomes. And outcomes are sorta like solutions, right?”

Spock opened his mouth as if to disagree, then shut it again and gave a curt nod.

“Right. Okay. So,” he held one hand up as a visual representation, “one outcome is, you keep doing what you’ve been doing. Hope it goes away, hope each beautiful woman that comes along never stays too long. Hope you can keep ignoring it forever, and hell, sometimes that’s what it takes.” He took a deep breath, allowing his lungs to fully empty again before pressing on. “Sometimes, though,” he raised his other hand, looked at it as if he was actually holding something suspended in the air, “it never goes away. It just becomes… different. Sometimes better, sometimes worse.”

He fixed Spock with a severe look before dropping both hands back to his desk.

“And since you can’t know, there’s no way to know- well, that’s why us humans decide to do something about it to find out.”

Spock remained perfectly still until he swallowed, throat bobbing with what looked like effort. 

“‘Something’ is vague terminology,” he pointed out, deadpan. “Clarify.”

McCoy flipped his restless hands skyward. “Well, we talk. Ask questions we don’t know the answer to.” A gradual smile broke across his lips. “Kiss each other, maybe, if the moment’s right.” 

Spock looked more uncomfortable than McCoy had ever seen him, but he couldn’t even enjoy the blotches of subtle green that bloomed over both cheeks because of the pit of worry weighing down his stomach. Damn.

“You are saying," Spock began to summarize slowly, "that my options are to continue attempting to suppress my emotions… or to inform Jim of them.” The green in his face darkened as McCoy nodded. “I admit, I do not favor either prospect.”

The doctor chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “Yeah. One of the scariest things in the world, tellin’ someone who’s important to you that…” He looked Spock up and down. “Well. That they’re important.”

The Vulcan remained silent, finally opening the pill bottle and rolling two tan colored capsules into his palm before looking up at McCoy again.

“Thank you, doctor,” he said simply, and the words held a tightness to them so poignant McCoy couldn’t think of a single thing to say as he watched Spock take his leave. 

The next time he or Jim tried walking into his office to worry about the other one, he was gonna lock them in a conference room somewhere, even if it meant crashing the whole damn ship. And he was gonna demand a drink first.

#idk this got sad for NO reason???? #i do not ship spones but something happened while i was writing this and i feel like it's there #if you squint #spirk #fanfic #request #prompts #my writing #dr mccoy #bones #spock #jim kirk #captain kirk #bones pov #fanfiction

[fawtyy]

modern!anakin skywalker x reader- serein

description: highschool au! in your senior year of highschool, you were paired with anakin skywalker, the “schools weirdo” for the end of year project. in this little time before the project is due, you get to know him and come to a deep realization.

warnings: some emotional abuse, drinking, cigarettes, obi-wan is very out of character.

part 1

•••

Hearing the horn beep outside, you looked over yourself in the mirror one more time before grabbing your bag. Winter break was over and it was time for your last semester of senior year. It was still cold out but your boyfriend insisted on the short skirt you were wearing.

Walking downstairs, you seen both of your parents as they were getting ready to leave for work. Your father worked at a construction sight as the building manager, and your mom worked as a nurse at the local hospital. They strived to make sure you and your younger brother lived a nice life, at whatever cost, but also made sure that you knew what it took for them to make it this far. You were taught to treat the CEO with the same respect you treat the janitor with.

Your mom walked to you, a big smile on her face as she landed a kiss on your cheek. “Have a great day back, only 5 months left.” Nodding, you bid them both a good day, grabbed an apple and walked to your boyfriend’s car parked on the street. “Put a jacket on!”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, or Ben because Obi-Wan was “too lame”, had been your boyfriend for a little over two years now. He was the quarterback for your high school, leading them to many championships. He was the most popular guy in the school. You only got close when you did track in freshman year, him noticing you for the first time. Over a year later, he asked you out and the rest has been history. “Hey baby.”

He gripped the side of your neck, pulling you close in and attacking your lips. You responded but quickly pulled back once he let go. “Don’t you look good today.” You smiled, looking out the window.

Another thing about Ben, he’s a total jerk. It didn’t become this bad until he was given the title of leading quarterback in his sophomore year. Though he’s always been spoiled. His dad was the CEO of a major computer company, which raked in more money than you can imagine. His mom stayed home and raised the kids though didn’t clean because they had maids. His younger siblings were the same way.

The ride to school was filled with him talking about all of the scholarships coming his way, how his coach made him angry, and the rap music blaring through his speakers. The most consistent thing you heard was his phone going off every few minutes with a new notification, from his “friends”.

Pulling into a parking spot, you both got out of the car, his friends already crowding around. They were mostly football players, their girlfriends latched to their arms. You smiled at them only to have them roll their eyes, continuing to rub on their mans and eye up Ben. It’s always been like this. Before you met Ben, you weren’t popular, you really don’t like to consider yourself that now. It was leggings and a hoodie or T-shirt everyday. Ben changed your entire wardrobe. Crop tops, short skirts and short, heels and all kinds of makeup. You didn’t wear everything he wanted you to, but just enough to keep him happy.

Ben walked over and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him inside. He was talking about his schedule when a shiver when down your spine. Turning your head, you seen Anakin Skywalker, someone who Ben calls an “emo bitch” standing at the school entrance. He was looking your way, casting his eyes down when you looked back. “Y/n, are you listening? What’s your first class?”

Snapping out of your daze, you looked at your paper. “Um, I’m sorry, science.” He cursed, looking at his own paper.

“Mine is history. Let me see your paper.” He snatched it from your hands as you looked back, watching Anakin walk past you with his friends. He met your eyes again, holding the stare this time before his friends pulled him away. “Damn, we barely have any classes together. I guess I can get some of the guys to keep an eye on you.”

That snapped you back. “Keep an eye on me?”

He smirked. “You know, making sure no one is eyeing you like you’re theirs. Keep ya safe.” Rolling your eyes, you took your paper back. The bell rang and he pulled you in for another kiss. “See ya later, babe.”

Sighing, you walked to the science class, putting a little pep in your step when the second bell rang. Walking in at the last minute, you looked around to find an empty table. Walking to one closer in the back, you set your stuff on the floor and sat down. The teacher hadn’t walked in yet but someone did.

Anakin Skywalker looked out of breath as he looked around. You heard some giggles and laughing, causing you to notice some of Ben’s friends in here. Watching Anakin roll his eyes, you both realized that your table was the only one that could fit another person. Walking back to it, he dropped his bag and sat in the chair beside you. You slightly side eyed him but looked forward as the teacher walked in.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr.Smith and I will be your anatomy teacher. I know some of you are seniors, so you need this class to graduate.” Some of the guys cheered when he said seniors, something that made him roll his eyes. “Anyways, I’m gonna get this syllabus passed around so make sure to look over it and bring it back signed.”

The papers were passed back to Anakin and he grabbed two, sliding one your way. You gave him a small smile but he looked away before seeing it. Looking at the syllabus, you noticed the same thing everyone else did. “Wait, we don’t get to change partners?”

The teacher laughed and shook his head. “Nope, the person sitting next to you will be your partner for the semester. All of your labs and study time will be done with them. Your end of the year project will also be done with them. Which, if you look at your table number and the back of the page, that’ll tell you what project you have.”

Turning the page, you see a list of diseases with a number next to them. Your table was number 9, so your disease was Alzheimer’s. “The project will be to make a presentation about your disease and which part of the body it attacks and how it usually ends. It’ll be due two weeks before school lets out. You can start whenever, but I don’t take late work.” Looking at his watch, he sat at his desk with a smile. “Take the rest of class to get acquainted!”

Everyone started talking amongst themselves as you turned to look at Anakin. He was writing small doodles on his syllabus paper, seeming completely tuned out. “Those are cute.” He stopped, slightly looking at you and sitting up straight. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

He looked at your outstretched hand, eventually shaking it and nodding. “Anakin.”

“Did you understand everything about the project?”

He nodded again, looking back down at it. Sighing, you turned back in your seat, looking at your own paper. You could hear laughter again, as well as ‘loser’ and other things being mumbled. Looking back at Anakin, you finally took in his features. His ears were littered with piercings, as well as one around his lip. His hair was dark, pitch black and it looked like he put dark eyeliner around his eyes. He glanced back behind him before scoffing. “I’m sorry about them.”

He fully turned his head to look at you, holding eye contact. “They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

Turning your nose up in disgust, you shook your head. “Far from it.” He slightly smiled at that before going back to his paper. The rest of the time was quiet before the bell finally rang. He quickly grabbed his stuff and was the first one out the door.

Grabbing your bags, you seen Ben in the hall, surrounded by other girls. He was laughing and cutting up with them until he seen you, breaking away. “Hey baby! How was it?” You told him about the class as you both walked to your next class together. He stopped once you were done talking. “Anakin Skywalker is your lab partner? You’re gonna have to get that changed babe.”

“Why? He doesn’t really talk and he just stays to himself.”

“He’s a freak, like literally. You don’t need to be around that and I won’t allow it.” Breaking away from his hold, you raised a brow at him.

“Well I think it’ll be fine, Obi. It’s just a project.” Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, all the way up until you and Obi were walking to his car. Looking across the parking lot, you spotted Anakin unlocking his door. Telling Obi you’d be right back, who was laughing with his friends anyways, you jogged over to Anakin, yelling his name.

He looked back at you, raising a brow at your smile. “Hey, can I get your number?” Raising both of his brows, you laughed. “We’re gonna be working on the project all semester, it’ll probably be best to get each others contact information.” Handing him your phone, he reluctantly took it, typing his phone number in. Handing it back, you took it with a smile and sent a text to his phone. “Cool, just text me with any ideas, see you tomorrow!”

You walked back to Obi, Anakin staring after you while Obi-Wan glared at him. All Anakin did was smirk and get in his car, driving off. “What was that about?”

You smiled at Obi, getting into the car. “Just needed his number for the project.”

Rolling his eyes, Ben took off to your house.

That night, after showering and getting into bed, your phone went off. Opening it up, you smiled seeing Anakin’s name. It was a link to a website with all kinds of facts and research on Alzheimer’s. Taking out your notebook, you began to write some of the facts down, creating thought bubbles and everything for the project.

The next day went about the same. Ben picked you up, ditched you mainly for his friends. You didn’t care too much today, wanting to get to class and go over some things with Anakin. As you were walking away, Ben caught up to you. “Hey babe, you’re in a rush today.” He laughed but you could see the confusion.

“I just want to get to class, love you.” Pecking his cheek, you entered the science class and took your seat. Ben stood at the door, trying to comprehend what happened.

Anakin walked in moments later, and you still had about 5 minutes before the bell rang. You smiled when he sat down and turned to look at him, taking your notebook out. “So I wrote all of this down from the link you sent me and I just wanted your thoughts.”

You never texted Anakin back last night but now he understood why. A tiny smile came upon his face as he looked over the details you wrote down, your little thought bubbles everywhere. It was cute.

“This is a good start, I like this.” Smiling big, you nodded, loving that he was talking more today.

“Cool, I was also thinking maybe we do a tri fold poster, since we have to showcase it and all.” He nodded, his smile becoming a little bigger.

The next few weeks would go on about the same. Anakin would open up a little more, day by day. You both would text more, not just about the project. You learned a lot about him in the past few weeks. He had his own band and they would perform at bars on the weekends. He only lived with his mother, his dad went awol. He loves space and he has a couple of animals.

Looking over your outfit, you smiled in the mirror. It was Saturday, yours and Ben’s date night. You’ve had one every Saturday night since you began dating. It was a time to not talk about school or football, just eachother.

Hearing your phone go off, you unlocked it and smiled seeing Anakins name.

‘Hey, are you busy tonight?’

Right as you began typing that you were, another message came through from Ben. Opening that one up, you smile dropped seeing his message.

‘Hey babe, we’re gonna have to skip date night tonight, Tyler is throwing a huge party since his parents are gone. I’ll pick you up in 30.’

Sitting on the bed, you stared at the phone in disbelief. Ditching our date, for a party? You didn’t like his friends and they didn’t like you. You honestly hated to be around them, especially outside of school. They were loud and just annoying. Hearing another text come through, you lift your phone up.

‘If you’re not, I was gonna invite you to see my band play tonight. It’s free to get in and they have other drinks instead of alcohol. I’d love for you to come. Here’s the address’

Jumping up, you got out of your short blue skirt and white crop top. Pulling some leggings and a AC/DC shirt on, you threw a zip up jacket over it and slid your shoes on. You didn’t have on any makeup except mascara and you put your hair in a ponytail. You grabbed your bag, sending one last text before putting your phone away.

‘I’m actually not feeling well, I hope you have fun, love you’

Anakin knew it was a dumb idea to invite you. You probably had plans with your popular boyfriend, he rolled his eyes at the thought. What made him feel worse was double texting you. “Hey Ani, we’re about to be up.” Nodding he grabbed his guitar and walked onto the stage.

You walked into the bar, seeing some people sitting at tables, other shooting pool or darts. Seeing an empty table, you sat down, waiting for Anakin to walk out. A waitress walked to your table and you ordered a water. You watched the curtain open, Anakin front and center as the lead singer. His eyes darted around the room, widening when he seen you. You smiled and waved, a small smile coming over his face.

He introduced his band and they began to play some songs. Some were their own but some were covers that they did well. You were so mesmerized, watching him sing and play, that you completely forgot your water. You could tell he had a passion for music.

Finishing up the last song, he thanked everyone and went off the stage. You stood up as he came around, smiling at you. “You made it.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, he paused for a second before hugging you back. He was just so happy you were here. Pulling back, you gave him a big smile. “You did so good! I loved it.”

You both sat down as another band went on to preform. Eating some food, you two went on to have a conversation about any and everything. You both were out of your element and it just felt right. Around 12, you both decided it was time to go home.

You walked outside, trying to call your dad to come get you. “Everything okay?”

Looking over at Anakin, you nodded. “My dad dropped me off, I think he went back home and fell asleep. I might have to walk…”

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

“Oh, Anakin no, I really couldn’t ask you to do that-“

“And I’m not letting you walk home, let’s go.”

Shyly smiling, you walked to his car, him opening the passenger door for you. Shutting the door, he got in the driver side and started driving. You picked up the conversation while giving directions. “So, I’m surprised your boyfriend wasn’t over your shoulder the whole time you were here.”

Huffing out a laugh at his comment, you shrugged. “He doesn’t know I was here.” He looked at you with his brows raised. “Tonight was supposed to be our date night, we have one every Saturday. As I was going to text you back and let you know, he texted me and said he was picking me up for his friends party. I told him I didn’t feel well and came here.”

Slowly nodding, he came to a stop in front of your house, putting his car in park. “I’m sorry.” Giving him a look of confusion, he continued. “I’m sorry you’re with someone that doesn’t respect and cherish you.”

Taken aback, you opened your mouth only for nothing to come out. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. “Obi cares, and he’s a great guy. You don’t know him-“

“No you don’t. There’s a lot of things you don’t see, at school or even on the streets. He’s not a good guy-“

“Obi is a good guy.” He leaned back in his seat as you cut him off. Sighing, you grabbed your bag, trying to get out. “Thanks for the ride.”

The door handle would open, causing Anakin to take initiative and reach over you to help. He made eye contact as a blush slightly took over when you realized how close you were. Hearing the door open, you quickly got out and ran inside.

Anakin watched and made your door closed before letting out an aggravated sigh. Hitting the wheel, he cursed and shook his head. “Good guy my ass.”

#anakin skywalker #star wars #obi wan kenobi #hayden christensen #ewan mcgregor #high school au #anakin x reader #obi wan x reader #reader insert #star wars anakin #obi wan star wars #fanfic

[idv-sunsxin3]

Diggers // Dating Headcanons

Note// I gotta write this since i successfully managed to bring him home;;; 🥺

____

Diggers is canonly a hippie. He is based on them, his voice lines often tell how peace is better than war- I don't have the mind to interpret him with many kinds of hippies stereotypes because I'm still skeptical about some things that I don't even know better- 🤔🫠

There may even be misunderstandings because it actually really happened to the hippies from the 60s sometimes -

Diggers cherishes the times he gets to talk with you, always looking forward to seeing every day and getting to know you...

He is even eager to share his passions while he learns to understand yours as well. He has always been accepting and non-judgmental, ever since you first met. No matter the flaws.

It's probably how he treats everyone because of his moral standards- but it's also more than that... because it's you.

He definitely senses something different about you the moment your fingers touched..

You're his muse, "the sunlight from the mornings, the starlight of the night.... his whole universe." Yes, he said that to you once once--- 😭🫠🥺

But well, he loves showing some of his works of art - well, only the ones he managed to keep. He most likely does graffiti and flower power aesthetics.

Imagine there is a time you two painted a mark of your initials inside a heart with a paint spray on the same bench you both sat in where you first met each other--- it would be fate for sure smh;;;;

Hangouts usually would be staying with him at the back of his van with the doors open, so the windy day can go through. You sometimes lay down on the carpet he places down. You would hear him play his guitar as he sits across from you, serenading you with his slow, soothing tunes.

The sight of the grassfield's landscape can be seen from the van's back seat, along with the small silhouette of London from afar. Once Diggers stops playing, he tends to place his hand on your head and give it headpats... slowly massaging your scalp after as you try to stay awake.

He loves pampering you in his own way, letting you rest with him during lazy days.

He is a sweet, laid-back lover... He trusts you enough that his jealousy levels are low to none just by simply thinking of the many things that can make you feel safe and happy with him- having himself being part of your life is already an honor to him.

But of course, I can imagine he would be like a kicked puppy whenever you ignore him for too long... like not seeing for 3 days can already make him feel droopy;;;

You'll do a lot of outdoor activities with Diggers when dating him-- he would always say things like like "be one with the forest" or "connect with mother nature" while making you these pretty flower crowns to adorn them on your head,,,

Camping in a forest is one of the common things you two do, Diggers knowing lots of things about how to survive in the wild while only having his van as a refuge.

Don't underestimate for his slender figure!!! He can even name you many kinds of herbs, flowers, and berries. Even point out the ones that are venomous or poisonous. He can't do math or this deep insight science, but at least he is knowledgeable in certain fields.

This is just me, but I love a Diggers giving his s/o the passenger princess treatment. No more questions/ih

He talks to you in a very honeyed and flowery voice, you don't even know if he's ever angry at you even while being this upset---(to be true, he never brings himself to be angry at you-- it wouldn't be cool) With how he calls you "Honey", "Baby ", "Love", and so much more, you'll probably need a sleeping bag because man, his voice;;;

He is very affectionate - maybe a bit touchy even. Lots of hugs, kisses, hands on the small of your back, waist, or hip - he always has this tendency of keeping a hand on you when you're around.

If you give him the consent(because consent is beautiful✨️), he doesn't feel embarrassed when pulling you to his lap or holding you so close from behind around anyone.

His holds are meant to be pure and innocent. Having your bodies touch helps him charge his batteries from any stress he ever has to experience in a fast-faced world you both are living in.;;😔

He always likes to carefully plant soft kisses on your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, hands, and shoulder,,, (neck if he really wants to make out with you;;; 👉👈 *gets bonked for not being normal *) Lots of smooching when he finds the lovely opportunity.

He is 100% honest with you, never lies at all. Even would tell you his honest opinions in a sincere, half-hearted manner. Otherwise, it would be against his principles of a peace and love relationship. He wants to love you unconditionally no matter the future struggles that may happen between you two. Always avoiding toxicity and any form of hate towards you.

He loves taking care of his body, eating natural and non-processed food as possible, and going on vegetarian diets. He wants to share his little routines with you, if you want to, of course,,, it is pretty much a way he shows that he enjoys living life with you and taking care of you if you allow him to once in a while. It's like a sign of building trust for him. 🥺

It's so cute when he wants to try and persuade you to try these vivid color clothes with lots of patterns on it, even having these flower matching Keychains.;;

No matter the path you want to go to, he'll always support you and your choices,,, he'll encourage you to do anything your heart desires to achieve, as long as you're true to yourself. 🥺✨️

Overall! He is such a walking green flag. What else can I say to support that? You probably might have more ideas, and the floor is always open for them, my friends 😌✨️💅

#diggers x reader #r1999 diggers #reverse 1999 diggers #r1999 x reader #r1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999

[lovelybrooke]

Platonic Yandere Jayce and Viktor Headcanons (Arcane)

A/N: Before we start, I would like to say that I am not abandoning One Piece or The Last of Us, I just want to write for other things, and I really like Arcane, and I want to write for it. Please feel free to request for either fandom, I would love your input and ideas. Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoy. Thank you.

Ever since you were a child, you've been interested in Mechanical Engineering. You've been making robots before you could even speak. Your parents were very proud of you and encouraged your abilities, even though you were a child of Vaun, they believed that their child could be something greater.

Your love for machines is how you met Viktor, an awkward kid who could barely walk. You two bonded over your shared love for everything mechanical, and as you both got older, you encouraged him to pursue his dream of going to the academy. He wanted you to go with him, but your parents were getting sick, and you wanted to be there with them. He made you promise you would see each other again before he left, you of course promising to find him when you were older. You hugged goodbye and left.

That was 12 years ago, you parents log gone, and you being forced to work for some very shady people. You've hardened in those many years, but your love for science never lessened. You dreamed of escaping Zaun, finding yourself to the top side, and enrolling in the academy. You want to prove yourself and live up to the expectations of your parents, but Zaun was not a place where people could dream, and you felt trapped and there was nothing you could do but wait. For years, you've been saving money in order to find a place to stay on the top side and escape.

Once you finally made enough money, you immediately found a small apartment and left without looking behind you. It wasn't the greatest, but it was enough for you, and it was better than the shack you previously lived in. You managed to buy some clothes that helped you blend into Piltover.

When you finally met Viktor again, he was ecstatic. He of course, wondered how you managed to get to leave Zaun. Once he's caught up to speed, he quickly tells you about all's he's done the past 13 years. Your most interested in his advancements in Hextech, asking if it was okay if you could see his lab. At first, he wants to show you, mostly to show off, then he remembers that Jayce exists. He truly believes that Jayce would embarrass him, even if it was in good faith.

However, it's very hard to say no to you, and he invites you on a day when he's sure Jayce wasn't there. He rants and raves about all his accomplishments. He's really excited, since he's often overlooked when it comes to Hextech as a whole. However, since nothing goes the way he wants, Jayce interrupts you two, surprised that Viktor brought someone over. You introduce yourself, and start a small conversation with Jayce, which Viktor tries to get over with as soon as possible. Jayce warmed up to your pretty quickly, allowing you to come over to their shared lab whenever you liked. After this, the rest was history.

Viktor and Jayce disagree on a lot of things, but they always agree on one thing, and that's you. As Jayce continued to rise in power with the counsel, he began abusing his power to spend any time he has with you. This aggravates the hell out of Viktor, who constantly feels as though Jayce takes everything from him, including you. So, he uses his status as childhood best friend to get you stop hanging out with Jayce and spend time with him. You and him can relate to so many different things. No matter how nice Jayce is, he'll never experience a fraction of what you and Viktor have gone through, and he knows it.

Jayce really cares about you. He sees you as the sibling he's never had and projects a lot of his brotherly instincts onto you. He treats you like a little baby, even though your only a few years younger than him. He likes to make you food, and you two cooks together when he gets time to himself. He also will dumb a lot of worries onto you. This includes things with Hextech, the counsel, and even Mel. He doesn't see a problem with this, viewing trauma dumping as something siblings do.

It also doesn't help that, as Viktor grows sicker, you begin spending more time with him, to take care of him. You move in with him to help take care of him when he gets too sick to walk or move. You are also very much against him using shimmer and making parts of his body mechanical. Eventually, as the sickness and the shimmer take over his body and mind, you move out, ending your friendship as you refuse to watch someone you care about so much basically kill himself. He begs you not to leave, saying it will only worsen his illness, but you have no choice.

You turn to Jayce, who at this point holds an extreme amount of power on the counsel. You don't know what to do, and you want to help Viktor, and so does Jayce. So, you both take time to study and look for a cure. It takes time, but you eventually create something that can suppress Viktors symptoms. While it isn't invigorating as shimmer, it helps, and he couldn't be more thankful. Him and Jayce both feel indebted to you, Viktor because you helped save his life, and Jayce because you saved his friend.

At this point, they both become very protective of you. They both let you have your own life, but they use their power to subtly remind people that you belong to them. For example, buying you stuff, like when Jayce buys you a new apartment that was much better than your old one. Or when Viktor makes you jewelry from scraps of his old machines.

Viktor and Jayce don't really acknowledge your past in Zaun. Viktor likes to talk about your childhood with him, he doesn't really take into account the time you spent without him. Jayce tries to make you forget about everything from your time in Zaun. He teaches you Piltover history, buys you more fancy and "proper" clothes, and even attempts to get you a job on the counsel, which you quickly deny. Sometimes you open up to them about your struggles living in the bottom side, but it never really goes anywhere, especially with Jayce.

Regardless of all that, they care about you very much. They want to see you live a better life then you previously had, and they work hard to give you that. While Viktor sometimes feels as though he can't do as much as Jayce, but he is relived when he sees your awe at his creations. Jayce wants to be a good brother to you and will go as far as introducing you as his sibling to others when in public. They will do anything for you but aren't afraid to manipulate you to in order for you to stay with them.

A/N: I really don't know how to feel about this, but I hope you enjoy.

#yandere x reader #platonic yandere #soft yandere #yandere arcane #platonic yandere arcane #viktor x reader #yandere viktor x reader #jayce talis #jayce x reader #yandere jayce x reader #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader