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#I WANT TO SAY AGAIN; NONE OF THIS IS NEGATIVE
honeygrahambitch · 1 day
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"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."
"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"
"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."
Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.
"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.
"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."
"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.
Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.
"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."
Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.
Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.
He wished Will would allow him to care for him.
That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.
As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.
"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.
Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.
"Thank you." He whispered.
Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.
"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.
"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.
"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."
Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.
Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.
Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.
"We can pass notes."
"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.
"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."
"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.
"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.
"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.
Will nodded.
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jals-stuff · 2 days
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hello my love! If you don't mind I would like to request something for Orter. He and reader are still students in Easton and absolutely despise each other (something like academic rivals) and they ended up having to take care for a magical creature together for a class project during a few weeks! sorry if its a bit confusing, english is not my first language 🥹
good evening darling~
First of all, I would like to apologise because I originally wanted to make something short but it ended up being just a little longer than what I expected...
tl;dr: I'm going to post a second part to this in the next few days if I'm not too taken by my daily life. Please let me know in the comments if you wish to be tagged for part 2!
also i am receiving a lot of requests recently for some reason. thank you for your patience.
word count: 5.7k
warnings: f!reader, i hope you aren't scared of snakes (this one is cute tho), bit of swearing, not proofread
Taking care of it!
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Group assignments are, and always have been the worst. The extroverts usually left you with the heaviest workload and you'd just end up doing everything by yourself while they took credit for it. However this time, the assignment wasn't like anything you would've expected.
The teacher was going to pick random students and put them into pairs, and each duo would be given a small wooden box with an egg inside of it.
“These boxes contain mandragora snake eggs. This species hatches into different colours depending on how you take care of them and help them grow.”
The teacher explained and brought two different creatures to her desk. The left one had beautiful and healthy dark green, glossy scales and stunning purple flower patterns with big eyes and seemed extremely docile; it was a rather medium-sized specimen and it looked kind of cute. 
But the other one was a completely different creature; an aggressive beast with long, hooked fangs, completely hollow eyes and its scales were an alarmingly fluorescent shade of green with almost no patterns at all. Its scales were in a pitiful state and seemed uncomfortably stony. It kept trying to bite the teacher.
“The left egg has been taken care of perfectly, and is now a healthy, beautiful mandragora snake. The right one however, has absorbed too many negative energies from the ones taking care of it, resulting in… this.”
And just as you started wondering how it was possible to mess a beast up that badly with only negative energy, the teacher called out your name.
“(L/N) (Y/N) and Orter Mádl, come and get your egg as well.”
That couldn't be good, this snake was probably never going to hatch at all. The two of you exchanged an uncomfortable yet similar side eye. Existing in the same classroom as him was already enough of a pain in the neck, and now you had to raise a magical creature together?
Oh boy.
You were both sitting in front of this egg now, in absolute silence as none of you knew what to say or do. You had never taken care of a mandragora snake— or any type of pet other than a cat in the past, and surely anyone could guess Orter was not the nurturing type.
“This snake is going to have horrible parents.” You thought out loud, and for the first time, you saw the cold, distant jerk nod. He crossed his arms and looked at it for a while without saying a single word. Just… what was he trying to achieve? Did he think he was going to turn into a mandragora snake expert just by looking at an egg?
The teacher cleared her throat to grab everyone’s attention again and pointed at the blackboard. 
“These creatures usually hatch after approximately one week, and they will gain their patterns after one more week, but an unhealthy egg will take longer than that. You must take good care of them until their colours are completely visible. Your schedules have been cleared accordingly so taking care of the little ones should not be an issue for the next month.”
Orter didn’t quite appreciate the idea of spending a month with the likes of you, nurturing and hatching a pet together as if you were some kind of happy little family. He raised his hand.
“Is joint custody allowed?”
“Absolutely not.” The teacher deadpanned at his question and you almost slammed your own face against the desk at how dumb of him that was. After a while, everyone left except the two of you, still staring at the egg.
“That was dumb of you. I’ll be the one to hatch it since you can’t bear to have responsibilities.” You gently pet the egg with one of your fingers. “Isn’t that right, Rivers?” That last part was mumbled as if you were talking to an actual baby, and Orter rolled his eyes.
“Dumb? Should I remind you that your last two brain cells are fighting for third spot?” He mocked, giving you a condescending side eye. “And why are you giving it a name already? It hasn’t even hatched yet.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes and look at him as if he had just asked the most obvious question in existence. He made no commentary about the way you looked at him. 
“Since you don't even care enough to give it a name, Rivers will stay in my room. I’ll take good care of it.” You shrugged and very carefully picked the box up, holding it against your chest like an actual child.
“Isn't it supposed to be a two person assignment? How am I supposed to participate if it stays in your room?” He sighed, visibly growing more and more annoyed at your behaviour.
“You can visit if you want, it's not like I do anything other than going to class. Neither do you, I’m assuming.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up from his chair to follow you as you walked to your dorm room. “You’re really going to ignore what the teacher said about joint custody? The snake-”
“Rivers. Its name is Rivers, don't call it ‘the snake’, Orter.” You shot an angry glare at him and he had to physically hold himself back from punching a wall. 
“Rivers can't only stay with you.” He sighed as he finally used the name you had given it; a small victory but a victory nonetheless, even though he seemed a little angry at you for being so damn annoying.
“Neither can it keep moving between your room and mine, and I’m pretty sure that's what the teacher meant when she said no joint custody, besides...” You trailed off, looking down at the egg. “I doubt you're the nurturing type, I wouldn't even trust you with watering a plant.”
You giggled mockingly and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, but you were also right, as much as he hated to admit it. He muttered something and walked away in the opposite direction, leaving you alone with the mandragora snake egg in your hands. 
You were determined to hatch it, with or without this jerk. Carefully, you placed it upon a cushion on the unoccupied bed in your room that was supposed to belong to your roommate, but she hadn't showed up in literal months, so Rivers was now your priority.
You enveloped the egg in fluffy, soft cloth and looked at it for a bit. Sure, you were the nurturing type… in spirit. How were you supposed to take care of a magical beast you had never even seen before?
None of your books had ever mentioned anything about it and you weren't really studious either unless Orter was about to get better grades, in which case you absolutely had to surpass yourself and crush him completely.
A few hours had passed and you were almost falling asleep, studying how the egg was reacting to sounds and touch. You could feel something move underneath the shell but you couldn't exactly tell what was happening.
It seemed stable, at the very least, but focusing so much and taking notes was draining. However, a knock on your door took you out of your drowsiness. “Come in?”
As you wondered who it could be, you were surprised to see that dear Mr. Mádl had stopped sulking and actually showed up, much to your annoyance. He closed the door and stepped closer to the egg, not even paying attention to you at all, which irritated you slightly.
“What's all this?” You asked as you noticed him holding an uncomfortable amount of handwritten notes. He pushed his glasses back up and finally looked at you.
“I went to the library to research a bit on mandragora snakes.” He stated with his usual emotionless expression. “Unlike you, I can put in some effort.”
Oh, he was getting on your nerves so much after only two minutes spent in your room. It took all of your remaining energy not to kick him out immediately. But for Rivers’ sake, you decided to keep calm.
“Look. I get that you despise me, because in case it wasn't clear, I despise you too. But for the sake of this assignment, can we please quit being passive aggressive?” You sighed softly, trying to calm your bad mood down.
“I’m not the one to blame here.” He shrugged, crossing his arms as he gave you his signature condescending look. “You didn't even research anything about this species, you're not even doing anything right now, and I bet you've been doing nothing for the past hours as well.” 
You exhaled softly, feeling the small creature in the egg get a little agitated and trying to stay calm. “I took some notes on its reactions to sounds and such. I believe it can actually sense negative energy.” You handed him your notes and he raised an eyebrow. 
“Sounds like bullcrap. It didn't say any of this in the books I read.” 
You held your snarky remarks for yourself and shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe the authors didn't think it was necessary. But it's clearly reacting. It also reacted when I sang to it.”
He chuckled, his expression unchanged, and you just knew he was about to say something rude, so you decided to talk before he did. “Anyway, it's good that you did some research.”
Orter raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Surely there had to be something snarky at the end of this sentence and that wasn't all.
“Because..?”
“Because I couldn't have done it while checking its reactions, so it's good.”
The room grew silent quickly and the snake within the egg started to calm down a little. Though Orter didn't seem convinced at all, and still thought you were bullshitting him with this whole reaction thing.
“I still don't see it. Why would you sense reactions and not me? Are you just special that way?” He asked in a mocking tone, and you were getting more frustrated by the second. 
“Just touch the egg right now.”
He did. Even without touching it, you could feel the magical beast getting agitated, but it seemed like he didn't. Not one bit. 
“There's nothing. You're full of crap, (Y/N). Just say you haven't done anything the whole time, I won't be surprised.” He mocked, but you decided not to bite back. You knew what you had felt earlier and you wouldn't take his criticism for that.
“Whatever you say, Orter. But you'll have to stop acting like that because whether you want to believe me or not, it is reacting.” You sighed softly, wanting to change topics. “So anyway, was there any advice on how to help it hatch correctly?”
He flipped through his notes with his eyebrows raised in contempt, as if you just couldn't do that without him (you couldn't, let's be realistic here) and he stopped on one of the pages.
“They need company, warmth and lightning. I suppose even you can provide that, correct?” He looked up from his notes and you didn't have to look back at him, you knew exactly what kind of expression he had right now. 
“I suppose I could.” You sigh softly, already fed up with his behaviour, and you felt the snake get agitated again. As if instinctively, you ran your hand against the shell. “It really doesn't like negative energy…” You muttered, not really towards anyone.
“I really think you're making things up here, otherwise it would've been mentioned in those books.” Orter said, putting his notes back against the bed where the egg was resting. You shrugged again, looking at it pensively, and for once, the snarky sandman didn't say anything.
“It's late… I’ll sleep for now.” You rub your face with your hands and sigh softly once more, then stand up and make your way to your bed. He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be moving an inch. It's almost like he's trying to catch up with the egg for some reason… 
“You could directly tell me to leave, you know?” He adjusts his neck tie as he stands up and turns towards you. You wanted to shoo him, send him flying or something, but you needed this mandragora snake to be healthy and you couldn't afford to do such a thing.
“I’m… tired, is all. Really tired. I wasn't kicking you out.” You muttered, sitting on your bed and looking up at him. Even when he isn't insulting you, he still finds ways to be insufferable.
“..right. I will be here tomorrow morning to ensure you won't be doing anything… dumb with this egg.” He cleared his throat and left without another word. What kind of jerk was he anyway? He'd been especially awful today and you had no idea why. 
Maybe tomorrow is going to be better?
You spent most of the night tossing and turning, occasionally glancing at the egg, and it felt like the beast inside of it was mimicking you. Since sleep was evading you, you made your way to the other bed and sat next to the egg, looking at it in exhaustion.
“What's going on in there..?”
As if it was going to reply, yeah. You rubbed your hands against your face and sighed, lazily grabbing Orter’s notes on mandragora snakes and flipping the pages until you found the hatching section.
As insufferable as he was, his notes were flawless and easy to understand. What a pleasant handwriting… you shook your head and kept reading through it until sunrise.
He kept his word and showed up early with a bag full of… something ? He sat on the extra bed close to the egg, and pulled some more cloth out of the bag, as well as cotton and other fluffy materials he placed around it.
“I went and got some more.. warmth for it, since you couldn't do it correctly on your own.” He scoffed, and you just chuckled, not even looking back at it.
“Ahah, thank you, that's really helpful.” You were way too tired to bite back and honestly, he was putting in effort when all you were doing was go with the flow and panic when something happens.
The sn- Rivers seemed pretty stable at the moment, which was surprising considering how agitated it gets whenever… oh.
“I think it likes you,” you looked at Orter, a little amused. “It's been agitated all night and now that you're here, it's just… calm.”
He pushes his glasses back with a neutral expression and looks at it for a bit. “Perhaps it likes me better.”
You groaned slightly at the idea. Even though Orter was the one bringing supplies for it, you were obviously the one caring for it! Making sure it's stable and safe! You stood up and stretched your arms.
“Maybe… since it likes you so much, I’m going to go and get coffee or something, I’m exhausted.” And as soon as you took a step out the door, he called for you.
“Wait, (Y/N), something is wrong, come back.”
You raised an eyebrow and when you stepped back in, you could feel the beast’s agitation, like it was panicking or something. You just sat back and touched it.
“What's happening?”
Nothing. Well, nothing anymore. It just calmed down immediately and went back to being stable. You looked at Orter in confusion and he returned that same look. What was going on with this beast?
“It’s merely a hypothesis, but…” Orter trailed off as he stepped outside of the room and… the beast was still pretty much stable. Sure, it was moving around a little but nothing too critical. 
“I think it likes me more.” You muttered, and heard him chuckle dryly and walk away. Did you upset him? That wasn't your intention at all, for once. Laying down and facing the beast, you wondered what was up with it. Why would anyone get such an assignment anyway? It was so much work!
The door opened again around twenty minutes later when Orter came back with a small bag. More supplies? Again? 
He reached for the inside and then handed you a cardboard cup. “Umm.. what's that?” You asked in a confused tone and he raised an eyebrow at you like you were the stupidest, silliest little thing he'd ever met.
“What do you think it is? It's coffee, you idiot.” Oh. Oh. Ohh. You grabbed the cup and looked up at him, a bit puzzled. This man really was unpredictable.
“You… got me coffee? But… why ?”
“You said you were exhausted, and apparently you can't leave Rivers for too long, so…” He crossed his arms, and you suddenly felt really weird. Was he being nice to you? It was so odd. Right now, you didn't want to rip his head off or throw him out the window.
“That's… thank you.” 
You couldn't say anything else, looking at him with the most disoriented look he'd ever seen before; there was no malice and no anger or frustration in your eyes, just… questions. 
“Don't get me wrong,” he sighed softly, ���I’m only doing this because I don't want anything weird to happen to it.” He specified, looking straight at you. Could he just not ruin a moment like this?
“It wasn't completely stable when you were gone.” You said, looking at the egg and taking a sip of your coffee. “It's only stable when both of us are here.” You muttered while adding this to your notes, and he made no commentary. 
“It gets really agitated at night, even when I’m here.” 
Orter cups his chin with his fingers and looks at the egg pensively. “Then I suppose you weren't lying when you said you could… feel it.” He reluctantly admits. “Should I keep it at night and see how it goes?”
You know for sure it's going to be a problem if you try to move the egg, so what to do..?
“I think so… but we can't possibly move it so, I would suggest…” You trailed off, visibly looking for something to say afterwards as you really didn't have a clue what to do, but Orter finished your sentence.
“...for me to sleep in this bed, is that your idea? Really?”
You blinked once. Then twice. Was that your idea? Not really, but after thinking for a while, you would've eventually brought this possibility up.
“Yes, I mean- no. Or, ahh… I guess..? I don't know. I didn't really…”
He sighed loudly and looked down at you with something of a mocking glare, and it suddenly felt really embarrassing. What was embarrassing? The idea of having him sleep in the same room as you, or the fact that he was being so condescending about it and had you stuttering?
“So, you just gave me every possible answer in one sentence…” He mused and crouched to take a closer look at Rivers. “Well, I suppose I can do that. But don't expect me to be nice to you.”
“You don't have to tell me, you ass.” You muttered and his eyes narrowed as he turned towards you. 
“It's merely in case you forgot, since your brain looks a little… dysfunctional.” He taunted.
“Oh, you're taking care of my memory now? That's awfully nice of you, Orter.”
“Don't get too used to it, (Y/N).”
You chuckled as an answer and sighed softly, looking at the egg. “Can you hear that, Rivers? The audacity of that man.” You muttered, making sure he could hear you, and he gently pushed you aside to look at the egg.
“Don't listen to her, Rivers. Even you know I’m right.”
Did he just.. talk directly to it for the first time? And to say such a thing, too? You couldn't hold it in anymore and just burst out laughing, pointing your finger towards him, uncontrollably wheezing and giggling.
He looked very startled at first but then a little embarrassed. He slapped your hand away, pretending to be angry but he was just really flustered and had a very faint blush on his face. “Shut up… Hey, hey! Shut it now… Jeez.”
But you weren't exactly laughing at him. It was just very cute that he suddenly decided that it was fine to talk to this egg as long as it was to discredit you, and honestly, how could you not laugh?
Everytime he slapped your hand away, your finger came back to point at him, as if you were accusing him of something. It was really hard to stop laughing and it took you a good while to calm down, only to be greeted by Orter’s pouty expression, something you never thought you'd see.
“Ahh, I’m sorry Orter, I wasn't making fun of you. It was just really cute.” You said before realising what it implied, and it was your turn to be embarrassed. “I mean- cute as in, you know, you're talking to it now… and it's… you know.”
OHHH MY GOD STOP TALKING, SHUT UP! You internally yelled at yourself, and the way he sighed made it seem like he wasn't mad at you. Or was he? At least his flushed expression was gone, much to your disarray.
“Right…” He cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he sighs once more. “I mean… I suppose you are right and Rivers can feel our emotions..”
“..’so let's try to be good parents’ is what you're about to say, isn't it?” You muse, slightly teasing him. “C’mon, say iiiiit.” 
“So let's try to… to…” He sighs and turns around, his hand on against his hip as he adjusts his glasses again. “...I’ll get some food, since you can't.” And with that, he immediately steps outside of your room, feeling like… like something. He doesn't know, and he hopes you don't either.
You chuckle to yourself, somehow thinking he's cute when he gets embarrassed. But you remind yourself that he despises you, and that you also despise him… or, well, not that much. Maybe despise wasn't the right word. You just weren't so sure anymore.
Orter, on the other hand, was trying to get this awfully embarrassing moment out of his mind as he walked to the Academy's shop to get some things. However… He didn't know what to buy. He then walked to the counter and looked into the store employee’s eyes very seriously.
“What kind of stuff do girls like to eat?”
He should thank the gods that you weren't there because the way he asked this with a completely straight face and flat voice would've put you to your grave. 
While he was at the shop, you were reading his notes and humming slightly to try and soothe the mandragora snake inside the egg. It was working, but it definitely wanted both of you to be here. 
You stopped on one of the pages as something caught your attention: “...mandragora snake eggs will drain a parent’s energy to grow, which is why the other parent usually hunts for the family and is in charge of making the nest more comfortable.”
With this, you almost spit out your coffee. Was this the reason why you were so tired yet restless? And also why it was panicking every time you weren't close to it? Putting more thought into it, you also realised something else.
Orter was the one who brought most of the cloth to keep it warm and he had also brought you sustenance so far. The two of you had taken these roles in very seriously without even knowing it. But since you were the one giving energy to it, perhaps…
You sat up and tried concentrating your mana into your hands before touching the soft shell, as if giving it a part of it… And much to your surprise, it seemed like something happened but you couldn't tell what exactly. 
After an hour or so, Orter came back to your room only to find you laying down in exhaustion next to the egg, completely drained for some reason. You eyed the bag he was carrying and he just put it next to you. 
“I didn't know what you wanted.”
What you wanted? Does that mean..? You sat up and looked inside of it; tons of snacks, candy, pastries and whatnot. You did need sugar right now, and so you immediately grabbed a pack of sweets and opened it.
“You are a lifesaver, Orter.” You sighed as you ate a few sweets, regaining your energy bit by bit. Pointing at the specific paragraph on his notes, you slightly tapped your finger against it.
“That's why I’m so tired, this little rascal has been taking all of my energy.” You muttered, sighing softly as you kept eating more and more sweets. He read the passage, holding his chin.
“And have you tried sending mana directly into the egg?” With your nod, he hummed. “I could try it too.” And so, he put both of his hands against it and tried sending some of his mana into the shell. Neither of you could tell if it worked.
You decided that you needed to take a shower and go to sleep, and as soon as you tried to stand up, your legs gave up from fatigue and you started collapsing, but Orter was quick enough to catch you. “Oh, crap. Are you alright?”
You groaned in frustration and nodded, even though you were completely incapable of standing up again; the sweets were apparently not enough to let you use your legs. 
“You've really outdone yourself, haven't you?” He chuckled, and you looked away. He was being awfully nice and you just didn't know how to respond to that type of behaviour, especially coming from him. 
He gently lifted you up and put you down on your bed. As embarrassing as it was, you couldn't really have managed otherwise. You were thanking him when your brain just shut down and you fell asleep quickly. He made sure to pull the covers up against you and he sat there for a bit, looking at you. 
It was clear he hadn't been very nice at the beginning, and he was now trying his best to atone for that fact. While you rested peacefully, he couldn't help but move some of your hair away from your face and place it gently behind your ear. 
From that moment, this is how most of your days went. You'd spend your day giving mana and energy to the egg and Orter would bring you some coffee, water and food, and whenever he was about to sleep, he'd give Rivers some mana as well.
After six days, the egg had grown quite a lot and you weren't sure what size the “little one” was going to be anymore. All you knew was that it was getting more and more tiring to keep feeding it with your energy. 
You were laying down, exhausted even though it wasn't that late, and Orter was reading a book on the chair next to your bed. No insults, no snarky remarks had been exchanged since last time, and he was rather helpful to you. 
After all, you were the one spending all of your energy on helping Rivers hatch correctly. Most of the time, he had to move you back to your bed because you'd fall asleep while giving it your mana. You could've sworn you felt him touch your face but you could've very well been dreaming… or were you?
The embarrassing question was stuck in your mind now and you couldn't stop thinking about it as you kept giving your mana to the egg. “Should be the last day, right?” You asked quietly, visibly really tired.
Orter closed his book and adjusted his glasses as he looked at you. “Yes. If it's healthy, then it should hatch tomorrow.” His eyes softened just a bit as he looked at you. “Why don't you call it a day? You sound exhausted.”
You sighed softly and moved to the edge of the bed to stand, and he immediately stood up to come and help you. It was… unexpected. You held onto him as if the two of you had never despised each other, ever, and he helped you get to your bed.
As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was really helpful. And since he had stopped being so condescending, it felt quite comforting to have someone sleep in the same room as you, not that you’d ever let him know about this detail. He was also really thoughtful and good at taking care of Rivers, so that was a plus… 
In fact, he was rather nice overall. He seemed to remember what your favourite snacks were, and also what kind of coffee you liked, all of this just from studying your expressions carefully as you consumed what he had brought. He really was thoughtful, and since you had started taking care of this mandragora snake egg together, he hadn’t been snarky or mean even once.
“Are you alright?” He asked, looking at you with a hint of worry in his eyes. When you started wondering why he was concerned with you when you felt his hand slightly squeeze yours. Oh. Ah. Ah. You had unwillingly grabbed his hand when you tried to stand up, and hadn’t let go since then. While you were overthinking, he was just looking at you in confusion because you just… wouldn’t let go of his hand.
“O-oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- uh… I was just-...” Ah, it was no use. Your face was slightly flushed with embarrassment and you were trying to stutter your way out of this situation, but no words seemed to come out. You looked up at him and noticed that he was ignoring you. He had grabbed his book again and crossed his legs, reading it while flipping the pages with his free hand.
When he noticed you were talking to him, he just raised both eyebrows, but the gesture did not change his neutral expression. “I don’t need it right now, I don’t mind you keeping it.” And with this, he immediately went back to his book, as if he really didn’t care. The truth was that he just could not look into your eyes right now.
Orter was trying his absolute hardest to conceal the very faint blush on his face while you actually didn’t let go of his hand. Was it because you just wanted to hold it? Or were you just too embarrassed to do anything about it? Or was it both? 
Even if you weren’t near it, you could feel some kind of weird vibration— or maybe just an emotion coming from the mandragora snake egg. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but it had started as soon as you had grabbed Orter’s hand. Was Rivers absorbing whatever emotion that was too? 
That was just too much thinking for you and you decided that the only reasonable course of action was to collapse in bed and stare at the ceiling. That being said, you still hadn’t let go of his hand, and it didn’t seem like you planned on doing it anytime soon because as soon as you closed your eyes, you fell asleep. 
He didn’t notice until he closed his book and saw you resting peacefully against the pillow while still holding it. He was about to pull his hand back and let you sleep, but it didn’t look like it was keeping you awake or anything, so he just decided to look at you for a bit, his thumb unconsciously rubbing your palm soothingly. 
Sitting on that chair was rather uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel like letting go of your hand, so he was going to bear it anyway until you’d let go by yourself. 
…which you didn’t do. You were just resting and holding his hand hostage the whole time. 
Approximately two hours after you had fallen asleep, Orter heard a weird noise, something indescribable. As his eyes searched the room for its source, his eyes widened slightly. He turned to you and squeezed your hand. “(Y/N), wake up, hey.” His free hand reached for your shoulder, slightly shaking it. 
Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you groaned in frustration. But Orter’s expression looked amused and a little excited, which woke you up immediately. “What’s the matter?” you asked as he chuckled and pointed at the egg.
“It’s hatching!”
Holy shit. You immediately sat up and made your way to the opposite bed as you watched the small snake slowly get out through a hole it had pierced. It then slithered away from the shell and looked at you and Orter, as if it was confused. You couldn’t help but squeal at how cute it looked. It was just a little baby!
You extended a hand and it instinctively moved towards you, then rested in your hand. It was such a precious little creature, you were holding back your tears. “Oh my gods, oh my gods… What are we supposed to do now?” You asked frantically as if in a panic.
Orter immediately flipped through his notes and then reached for a small bag of supplies, taking out a small piece of mandragora root and feeding it to the small snake, watching it greedily bite against it like “chomp!” and swallowing the whole piece. 
“So, according to the notes I’ve taken, we can move him now and it doesn’t have to stay warm anymore. I’m assuming it’ll need to stay with us until its patterns start appearing. It also says it might sleep a lot.” He flips through the pages again to see if he hasn’t missed anything.
You thought for a bit. Maybe you could grab one of your scarves and put some cotton and such into it to make a… snake holder? This way you could walk around the academy with Rivers in your scarf and without worrying about it too much. 
You had literal stars in your eyes and Orter looked completely lost as soon as he laid eyes upon this beautiful expression of yours while you were holding the small snake.
There was still a whole week left to the assignment, and it felt to him that time was flying awfully fast.
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something2believe · 4 months
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i'm literally fucked in terms of treatment options. tw for depressing vent in the tags i guess
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conspiracydawg · 3 months
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got around to reading nona the ninth and I think I finally have to concede that I'm just not picking up what these books are putting down. there's some cool concepts but it feels like the author is actively avoiding them most of the time. also finding the constant quips and references annoying, and not really sold on the central relationship of the series, which leaves very little for me to be happy about. I'll read alecto because I'd like to know what happens next, but I can't help but feel I'll also be relieved when it's over
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actuallyitsstar · 3 months
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have u seen the top gun 3 leaks/rumors?? GOD i hope it's true 😭😭😭 i need to see miles teller bradley bradshaw again
aaaaa hi there nonnie!! omg yes i have!! i'm just a bit 50/50 on the whole idea if i'm being honest- on the one hand, i would love so so much to see our favorite old man and the daggers and ofc bradley ;) again, and there are so many things about top gun/tgm that i think can rly be expanded upon and explored!! but on the other hand, i am worried that so close together and with it seeming a bit like a studio rush due to money or contracts or bargaining, idk. it might not turn out how i'm/we're hoping and i'd almost rather keep what we have now than have something we don't like become canon as a result of something like that 😭😭 i guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens! i am excited, but mostly, i am cautious, and very very nervous lol.
everyone has varying interpretations of our current canon material, and in their own way and their own universe everyone is right- but i do fear what would happen if they made a third movie that drew the line. someone will get alienated no matter what, and who knows what they could decide to do! they could rule out or include a relationship we consider basically canon or to be an ick, or they could directly contradict a beloved fandom headcanon that we all hold dear and turn those of us already quite committed to it into au participators all at once.... etc. of course, on the other hand, they could do exactly what we hope for- you never know- we just all hope for such different things. i worry that there's no way to make as well done and well received a movie as tgm due to the loss of the nostalgia factor and the rush and the split fanbase demographics, but at the same time i am excited by the possibility of seeing the things i'd want to see! it's all quite up in the air, but we'll have to be patient i suppose!
(thanks so much for the ask, nonnie! have a lovely day!! <3)
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mintchochipkookie · 1 year
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kim namjoon for world president when
#half of my entertainment analytics class FOR SOME FUCKING REASON was about NFTs#these 2 bros from the industry talking about how nfts were the future of entertainment or whatever the fuck#pretending like it was good for fans and had nothing to do with corporations wanting to profit even more#they had the audacity to say that FANS ACTUALLY WANT TO PROFIT OFF THEIR INTERESTS#i was like have you been a fan of a single thing even once in your life#fandom is so special to me and it's one of the sincerest purest forms of appreciating something#i feel real anger at billion dollar companies trying to monetize this space till only the rich can afford to like things#like every other fucking part of society#this isn't even considering the negative impact they have on the environment#this is purely from a moral standpoint about appreciating art#anyway. all this basically to say that when hybe announced the bts nft thing last year#i literally felt a pit in my stomach like something i had just started loving was being taken away from me already#reading that namjoon made a presentation to convince their executives not to move ahead with the plan.....you literally don't understand#i owe kim namjoon my life lmao#i hope he knows how much i appreciate him i'm so glad i picked the right group to stan#anyway. none of this matters i'm just feeling a lot of things rn and i want to say once again that i love bts#every single one of them they just mean so much to me#ik it's some form of a parasocial relationship or whatever but i don't care right now#i feel so grateful to him ik it's dumb but it is what it is#to delete later
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guideaus · 11 months
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i think the boys run the riot creator is a trans man, and i think it's nice he can create a work and have characters that are similar, and i wouldnt say lgbt creators necessarily have to be perfect, and not all work is Representation or whatever, but i think some stuff in it was a little weird lol
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well, i’m about to see the doctor for my mystery joint pain. wish me luck. i’m terrified.
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mossmacabre · 2 years
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the way absolutely no discussion on any complex topic/issue can be had on the internet bc nuance has ceased to exist in the wake of cancel culture lol. like i promise you almost none of these things have the definitive answers you want them to have so badly. not to be one of those people but please fucking turn off your phone and go read a book
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freethefable · 1 year
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having a bad time :thumbsup:
#ignore this ofc i'm yelling because i don't have a therapist#i would love to have one but the cons are a lot right now#i have no car to get there and doing it remotely is fine but not private since this fucking house is an echo chamber#maybe i can invest in some of that audio dampening stuff#that's actually not a bad idea but damn all that and paying for therapy is just. cool#anyway i'm having a big sad and needed to type for a bit mainly because there is no one to say this to#it's everything everywhere all at once time once again it's a shame i've never seen that movie but still really want to#i've been having trouble sleeping because of restless thoughts due to work or my personal shit that I cannot resolve in any way that matter#so i'll either stay awake half a-fucking-sleep unable to keep my eyes open to distract myself with whatever or i'll suddenly wake up#and then be consequently plunged into a mass anxiety ridden thought avalanche#to my knowledge i've never had an anxiety attack but my coping mechanisms historically aren't the best either even if effective at the time#once again it's like hm don't i have something in my life i am proud of or something that i can present to myself to be ok for now but no#there are always always more cons than pros and of course that's how i see it because negative self talk and bias etc all the therapyisms#and by the trope i LOGICALLY know and have a version of myself outside myself that says ah yes you are experiencing xyz#but of course it's not really that bad there's something you can do about this you just choose not to actively take steps says the me#and YES i KNOW but there's always a but whether it's time or motivation or god forbid women do anything like have no fucking life#so your main problem of loneliness/no friends doesn't get fucking solved because no one will take the time to begin to care#because i am not a multifaceted human with experiences and completely coherent and intelligent thoughts about important topics#i have none of that because at some point in my life i decided to say fuck that and do pleasure instead easy route only#you can't make friends if the only thing you care about is them caring enough to be your friend#if I am not immediately intelligent or interesting enough to capture someone's attention am I even worth keeping#and i could DO something about it I could go and LEARN and go HAVE experiences and make myself better#and maybe eventually i'll feel good enough but by that point it will be so so late#and i'm really worried that i won't make it in time for me#i gotta stop before i legit cry since i just wanted to type a bit but there's a big friend shaped hole in my heart#and i'm paralyzed for how to fix it with everything else going on#i'm this malformed amalgamation of a person with rounded edges no thoughts and nothing important to say
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milkykotek · 10 days
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success story: celebrity crush turned boyfriend
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First off, I'm aware people may not believe me. However, that's completely fine! I simply don't care, because it happened, and I wanted to share. I will not be sharing explicit details due to privacy reasons for both me and my boyfriend, especially since he is a popular actor.
It took me a few weeks because I didn't want to jump into dating immediately. However, you can immediately manifest anything and quantum jump! I chose to do it step by step.
"Dp" is a term used in the LOA (Law of Affirmation, Assumption and/or Attraction) community to describe your desired person. It can be anyone. 3D is the 3d dimension, the world you see in front of you. 4D is your thoughts and the reality where everything you want is accomplished.
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It happened, but... what did?
I manifested my celebrity crush! I've been interested in him for some time now (due to personal reasons me and my now ex boyfriend – whom I manifested, too – have broken up). It was quite a wild ride, to be completely honest, and as always, I turned out successful!
There seems to be a blockage many face while manifesting celebrities, or otherwise famous/popular people. They're putting them on a pedestal, and so shifting the focus from actually manifesting to idolizing them. Of course, if you're manifesting a celebrity sp, you're most likely a fan of them already – that's not the point.
You're god, you're on top of the universe, you're the most important person there is. I don't care, and neither should you, about your circumstances. They're nothing but that – a circumstance in the 3D. As we all know, the 3D reflects our beliefs, assumptions, and the things we attract by engaging them. We engage them by giving them attention and reacting. An example can be someone giving you a dirty look – "Oh my god, they hate me!," you could think, and that is your assumption. You're not sure if they were even looking at you, because they could've been looking behind you, or simply have a resting b*tch face. And so, you thinking they frowned at you is an assumption. It's quite easy to create one.
And it's also easy to change that! The LOA (Law of Attraction, Assumption and/or Affirmation) community likes to overcomplicate manifesting by claiming it is hard to change your beliefs. It really is not. Every time you encounter a negative thought (thoughts create assumptions, assumptions show up in the 3D), simply change it. It's as easy as it seems. "I feel so sad", you can change that by saying, "I'm so happy and relaxed". Don't accept things you don't want to experience. Something happened that upset you? No, it didn't. Instead of dwelling on it, ignore it or affirm "It never happened", create a new story, "(something else) happened".
how did you manifest a celebrity dp?
You manifest a celebrity just like you manifest anyone else. They're human, and I don't believe in free will – anything I don't want, I change. It may sound weird, but is there even such thing as normal when it comes to manifesting and all the possibilities the universe offers?
The only thing you must do is take them off the pedestal and regain your power and control. It's not about them – it's about you. They're the obsessed one, they're the one manifesting you, you're on their mind.
If you're searching for a recipe, there is none. However, I can share a few ingredients – things that helped me:
— affirming. Affirming is nothing more than repeating what you want to happen, ex. "My dp loves me."
— persisting. You really don't want to give up until you see results. Of course, it doesn't mean you have to manifest 24/7, but then again, we think all the time, and so we manifest all the time, too.
— living in the end. Living in the end is living as if you already had your desire. How would you feel? How would you act, what would you do? Surely you wouldn't be stressing over results and whatever it is you're manifesting, because you'd already have it. Belief isn't necessary as long as you affirm and persist, but it sure does help.
— having someone to talk to. Having someone you can talk to about your manifestation journey and being supported was really important to me. I want to thank my best friends Star and Aurora, for always supporting and believing in me ❤️. Others would've called me delusional but you guys stood by my side.
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proof:
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Just breathe. For this part, I wanted to share some affirmations I used.
"Everything I want is mine. Everything I want, I get. I want it, I've got it. I'm a master manifestor. I always manifest whatever I desire and want."
"My dp (insert their name) loves me. My dp wants me. My dp is obsessed with me. My dp constantly texts me. My dp is texting me right now. My dp misses me. I am constantly on my dp's mind. My dp is constantly thinking about me. My dp is my boyfriend (or girlfriend, partner, anything you desire). I am my dp's best friend and soulmate."
Good luck ❤️. 222
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rafecameroninterlude · 2 months
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
summary: sarah comes home early and finds you in rafe’s shirt
warnings: best friends brother, arguing, cursing, brief mention of addiction, suggestive ending ;)
word count: 1.5k
a/n: this takes place the day after this part, so i recommend reading that before. this is the last part so i just want to give a huge thanks to everyone who has shown so much love to this mini series of mine. i’ll be working on requests for the next couple of days but i already have something new that i’m cooking up for all of you 🎀 mini series masterlist can be found: here <3
lovely taglist: @maybankslover @missy06sworld @thewalkingdeadsmut @urfavnoirette @pradabambie
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“hey, how do you want your eggs-” rafe was looking down at his phone when you walked into the room, his jaw tightening as he scrolled through something. “what’s wrong?” you sat next to him as he put his phone in your hands. “look at that shit. sarah has our summer allowance in the fucking negatives,” he was seething at this point. shaking his head, he yelled, ‘fuck!’, making you jump slightly. “i’m sorry,” rafe was quick to reassure you, “no, no, it’s okay. what should we do now?” you rubbed his arm, smiling at him so he knew you were alright.
“well, i’m gonna have to call my dad and let him know that we don’t have anymore money, and of course he’s gonna think it’s because of me.” rafe laughed bitterly. “why would he assume it’s your fault?” you glanced up at him, handing him back his phone. “because..” rafe spoke low, “i had a history of going to the cut and using his money for something else, and he hasn’t necessarily let that go.” he explained. you sighed, thinking for a moment. “look at the recent charges, what do they say?” rafe clicked on the account, his eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“what the fuck. there’s nothing but a whole bunch of atm withdrawals.” both of you looked at each other, “i don’t know how she’s withdrawing money without a card.” he looked around his room for a second, before jumping up and making his way downstairs. “what is it?” you followed him. rafe stayed quiet while he rummaged through his wallet, throwing it across the living room. “the fucking card is gone! she must’ve got it when we snuck upstairs yesterday.” you sighed, “that’s why she was in a rush to leave.” rafe paced back and forth, his head in his hands as he cursed to himself.
“i swear, when i see her-” as if on cue, the front door opened, the woman of the morning strolling in like nothing. “woah, y’all are up early..” sarah smiled, looking between you two before her eyes fell to your outfit.. or lack thereof. “is that rafe’s shirt?” her face morphed into one of suspicion. before you could answer her, rafe cut in. “yeah, it is. do you want to explain to me why the fuck our account is drained?” sarah kept her eyes on you, not acknowledging rafe in the slightest. “why are you wearing his shirt.. and what is that?” she looked past rafe towards the kitchen where you were making breakfast.
“i don’t believe this shit,” she scoffed, pushing rafe out of the way, “my brother, y/n, really?” she laughed. you felt your heart plummet, rafe stepping in once again. “you don’t have any right to tell her shit, you haven’t been very honest either.” rafe unlocked his phone, showing her the negative amount. “what the fuck are you up to? all these atm withdrawals, what are you even taking money out for?” now it was sarah’s turn for all the blood to drain from her face. “it’s none of your business,” she spat, “and you,” sarah walked around rafe, sizing you up as if she was going to do something.
“so, what, i don’t tell you about every little thing going on in my life, and you fuck my brother to spite me for it? that’s low..” she shook her head. you felt all your anger rising to the surface. “i don’t want to know every little detail of your life, just don’t be a selfish bitch and use me at your expense for your little adventures on the cut. lying to your dad so he won’t find out that you’ve been hanging out with pogues, and using your shared account to drain money from is even lower.” sarah stayed quiet, the expression on her face unreadable. “you’re the fakest friend there is.” she adjusted the backpack on her shoulder.
“if i’m the ‘fakest friend’ then what does that make you? you cancelled plans with me last minute, used me to cover for you multiple times, you even ditched our birthday tradition this year. not to mention the fact that you said i was ‘worse than topper’ because i asked you a valid question. i hadn’t seen you for three weeks before yesterday and you got mad because i asked if you were staying on the cut. you do realize that we haven’t been apart for longer than three days since we were five, right?” you were rambling at this point, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
“all i wanted was honesty, sarah. and yes, i fucked your brother, but not to spite you. not saying that, that excuses what i did, but i did that because he’s actually more amazing than you give him credit for. has it occured to you that while you’ve been running around the other side of the island he could’ve locked you out of the account and let you be out with no money in your pocket?” sarah ran her fingers through her hair, taking a seat at the kitchen island. “you don’t know him, y/n. the real him.” she looked over at rafe, her lips curling in disgust.
“you’re wrong and you know it,” sarah shot daggers at him. “fucking my best friend is crazy rafe, even for you. wait till i tell dad about this.” she smiled, taunting the both of you as you stood next to each other. “are you stupid? dad already loves y/n, and once i tell him that you put our account in the negatives because you’re withdrawing from atm’s on the other side of the island, you’ll see what he’s more concerned about. me being with y/n, or you giving up money to the pogues for whatever fucking reason.” rafe pulled you close to him, his hand resting on the small of your back.
“you really think he’ll believe you over me? especially with that little coke problem you had? good luck with that.” sarah opened her backpack, placing the card on the table. you couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. you knew rafe had a substance issue in the past, you were around when he was getting help for that, and nothing about it was pretty. “how dare you?” you narrowed your eyes in her direction. “you’re not anyone to throw that in his face. you’re a cheater and a thief, but no one has told you that yet, right? your dad will believe rafe, because i have pictures on my phone of us that match up with the timing of those atm transactions. me and you aren’t friends anymore sarah.” you watched as she got up, making her way over to the front door.
just as you thought she was going to leave, she turned around, this time with tears in her eyes. “i don’t care, y/n, but you have to be the dumbest girl on earth if you think this weird thing y’all got will last. you’re nothing but another hook up to him. do you really think you’re the first girl to make breakfast for him?” she laughed, wiping at her damp cheeks. “don’t ever talk to me again.” she slammed the door, leaving you and rafe in silence. “don’t believe her, she just wants to make you feel bad.” he took your hand, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. you nodded, the reality of what you did now setting in. you just unfriended sarah, and you didn’t feel bad about it.
“i’m sorry she brought up your past and used it against you.” you pulled him towards the couch as he rubbed circles into your palm. “she does that every time we get in an argument. it doesn’t phase me anymore.” he rolled his eyes. “will you really do that for me? vouch for me.” you nodded at his words. “of course i will, but i think i know a way where you don’t have to call your dad.” you took his phone. “call the bank and tell them the atm withdrawals weren’t yours and they’ll see it as suspicious activity on the card. they should refund you all the money back if you report the card missing.” rafe looked at you like you hung up the sun just for him.
“you’re the smartest girl i know.” he got up, walking to the next room to make the phone call. while he was doing that, you decided to finish up breakfast, surprised that you didn’t burn anything. quickly putting everything on a plate for him, you were pouring yourself a drink when he walked back into the kitchen. “they put all the money back on the card, we should be good now.” he walked past the plate, wrapping his arms around your waist. “that’s good,” you smiled, feeling his lips on your neck.
“you know, as much as this looks delicious, i prefer my breakfast in bed.” he picked you up, your laughs echoing throughout the house as he took you up to his room.
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innerwomen · 2 months
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To the paparazzi.
Paring: Husband!Bruce Wayne x (batmom) F!Reader
SUMMARY: At a gala you hear reports negative comments towards you but you brush it off, but when someone mentions your children? Peace was never an option.
TYPE: angst with sweet revenge
WARNING: body shaming. Swearing. This takes place in the original DC AU the only difference is that COVID-19 also took place (quarantine).
Reminder: you are beautiful, so who gives a shit what they say? (If you have any requests, I would love to know!! Don’t be shy!)
“And next we have… Oh my god! It’s Bruce Wayne and wife Y/n Wayne! This is the first time we’ve seen them out in public since Covid-19 lockdown!” The reporter was just one of many people screaming, taking pictures or asking questions towards you and Bruce.
After two years or complete lockdown, Gothams elites were back at it again with the parties, galas, and charities. And as the wife of a socialist, you and Bruce had a lot of events to attend. You and your husband were making your way into the after party for the election of the Mayor, the one Barbara Gordon won. You had to admit you slightly missed the parties, and the music, and the social interactions. But god, you’ve always hated the paparazzi.
“While it looks like Mr.Wayne kept himself busy at the gym during quarantine, looks like Y/n was taking it easy.” You heard a reporter say as she looked you over, judging.
“Seems like we are going to be seeing a weight loss journey from Mrs.Wayne coming soon. Hopefully.” Another snarking comment.
You heard the comments, they wanting you to hear them. Bruce heard them too; it was bothering him and he wanted to say something about it. “Y/n, give me the word and I swear- those people won’t have a job in three lifetimes.”
“Bruce, don’t let it get to you, I don’t. I couldn’t give two shits what those people say about me, what do they know? I look good, and I feel good.” Though you were appreciative, you didn’t need Bruce to defend you. When you were younger, you probably would have let those comments get to you, but as you’ve matured, you realize, no one can pay you enough to care what people think.
You and Bruce were at the end of the carpet and about to make your way inside the building when suddenly you hear, “If this is her, I would hate to see how her sons have gotten. The once handsome Wayne sons, may have let themselves go, and their daughter? She was chubby to begin with, imagine her now….!”
You’re furious, you couldn’t believe somebody had the actual audacity to speak about your children that way. Literal children. You were all about ‘not letting it get to you’ but messing with someone kids? That’s a whole different story.
You let go of Bruce’s hand and grab the woman by the shirt collar, “Listen hear, I couldn’t care less about what you say about me…” you bring her closer, “but if you ever say anything about my children again; I will pull your tongue out of your mouth, drag it around your neck, and strangle you with it.” You keep eye contact the whole time, letting her know, you aren’t playing around. “Do you understand?”
“Y-yes… sorry….” You felt her quiver. Good.
You let go of her and she immediately collapses onto the ground. You walk back to Bruce, grasp his hand and walk inside. “Are we going to act like… none of that just happened?” Bruce asked as he glanced down at you.
“She’s so lucky this dress is tight, if not, I would have punched her so hard in the vocal cords she’d become mute.” You say irritated.
“I think she’s learned her lesson, honey. Let’s get you a drink.” He smiles as he walks you over to the bar. “By the way,” his voice drops and he whispers to you, “that was so hot, seeing you put her in her place.”
You felt your cheeks blush and you shoo him, “Just get me my drink.”
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emma-needs-attention · 4 months
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I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.
And it makes me feel terrible.
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I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.
And it made me feel terrible.
I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.
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If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?
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I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.
I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?
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But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?
I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?
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As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.
But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.
I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.
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For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?
I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.
Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.
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Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.
I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.
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luveline · 5 months
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hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it
love u
love u too♡
cw death related anxiety
“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively. 
Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue. 
He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs. 
“Where did James say he was going?” 
“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?” 
“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to. 
“You're worrying again.” 
They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do. 
You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop. 
James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”
James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”
Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”
“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.” 
Remus holds out the phone to you. 
“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?” 
“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show. 
“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?” 
“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”
“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.” 
“I do this all the time, though.”
Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you? 
“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”
“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.” 
“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.” 
You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble. 
“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”
James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.” 
“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.
“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.” 
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xythlia · 5 months
Text
𓏲 ࣪₊➷ CAN I GET A KISS, CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER?
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› thinking about being the cute younger teacher & how much of a determined freak satoru would become learning ur a virgin idk he's ruining the idea of any other man for u babe
› satoru x f!reader
› word count : 2.5k+
warnings : loss of virginity, porn with a dash of plot if u squint, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, fingering, biting/hickies, alcohol consumption, praise, use of pretty girl/baby, not edited I needed to get this out of me like a possession victim getting an exorcism
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You decided Satoru Gojo was a pervert.
It was made all the more embarrassing by the fact that you were a virgin, wholly inexperienced and totally at the mercy of his unending teasing. The little jabs he'd manage to work into conversation, or that he'd say in passing with that particularly cheery tone. It always made your chest burn hot with a strange mixture of desire and discomfort.
You should've never said yes to going out with the other instructors for a drink that night. Should've said something, anything when Ieiri burst out with "holy shit, you are a virgin aren't you?" but instead you'd drunkenly shied away, eyes wobbly and looking anywhere but at your fellow teachers.
It was all the confirmation he needed.
The days that followed made you think surely you should schedule a check up, Saturo without a doubt had a negative impact on the levels of cortisol in your brain but at the same time when you'd wearily collapse in bed at night he was still on your mind. Those whispered, teasing jokes about your lack of experience stuck on loop in your brain paired with thoughts of how experienced he must be in contrast.
Would he work your body over in ways that would make you sob into your pillow? The loose image of it alone was enough to leave you with a sore clit as your eyes drifted closed, your fingers still slick as his voice curled around your brain to drag you off into dreams so depraved they made you sweat getting dressed in the morning, feeling embarrassed about having to look him in the face during the day.
A part of you wished, again, that you'd have said no to getting another drink with him. Shouldn't have giggled like a school girl at the suggestion of coming back home with him, shouldn't have so brazenly straddled his lap while the faint aftertaste of gin clung to your lips as his tongue mapped your own in a sloppy, burning kiss.
The way his body was still so completely relaxed beneath your tense one intimidated you. You felt embarrassed at the idea of how awkward and jerky your movements must be, sure you'd kiss before but never with someone who so clearly wanted to devour you whole. It was comforting though that his hands didn't stray from your waist, as if he was acutely aware of your anxiety. Although the way his lithe fingers drew circles against your skin, slipped beneath your shirt, and dug into your flesh still made your hands shake against his chest.
"Sa-" you started to say his name but the breath was snatched from your lungs in another heated kiss, the way he overrode each of your senses.
Sliding his tongue past your lips again, somehow in the same lighthearted way he'd teased you. When his hands drifted down, out from your shirt, under your skirt to trace the hem of your panties against your ass you froze.
Without you needing to say anything he pulled back, and a fresh tidal wave of anxiety beat against your mind. You know he's hard, can feel it pressing against you through your clothes. He was the first man to hold you, touch you, make you feel like you'd swallowed hot embers that now seared low in your tummy.
You suddenly felt burdensome, ridiculous for instigating something you weren't sure you could finish. Guilt also mingled in your head, it was hardly fair to go through all this set up just to back out at the last second. Would he be upset with you?
You caught your bottom lip in your teeth, eyes searching his catastrophic blue ones for signs of upset. But none existed there, only meeting your gaze plainly and with an air of calm, like he knew this was going to happen.
Shyly you averted your eyes, holding contact with him for too long made your liquor buzzed brain feel like static shocks were rolling over it. Your breathing hitched as you whispered in the half dark.
"You... you can touch me."
The silence was deafening, making your palms grow damp.
You caught his blue eyes widening in faux shock, a lazy grin dancing across his lips. "Really? Can I touch you there?"
Your ears burned in humiliation as you pouted at him. "Don't say it like that!"
Your indignation was cut off into a small yelp as he manhandled you into sitting with your back pressed against his chest. Your head spun as he wiggled your panties down, inch by inch, fingers leaving scorched trails on your thighs. His arm came to rest against your tummy, one hand still at your thigh as he spread your legs with his.
His breath fanning against the back of your neck made gooseflesh rise across your arms.
"W-wait," you stammered.
He hummed over your shoulder, his voice dripping with arousal. "What now, hm?"
It would make you more nervous if you couldn't hear the smile in his voice.
"Wanna take care of you," you say leaning your head back so you could see more of his face. Satorus eyes were full of amusement.
"Do you know how to, pretty girl?" His hand caressed the underside of your jaw, thumb swiping across your lips.
"Sorta," you mumbled, chest feeling fuzzy at the thought, vaguely recalling porn you'd watched forever ago.
"Sorta?" He snickered. "What happens if you choke huh?"
Your mind went as fuzzy as your chest, something told you hes hardly the type to exaggerate his size. That and you could feel his erection pressing into your back.
"Pinky promise I won't choke," you whisper, making yourself breathless already imagining what he'd look like in your hands.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," he spoke against the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spine. "There's plenty of time."
His words were punctuated by feather light swipes of his index against your inner thigh, making you jump in his hold. Your breathing sped up, eyes fluttering closed and you gasped as his fingertips ghosted through your slick arousal, spreading your folds before concentrating on your clit.
It felt like a live wire pressed against you, tearing a sharp gasp from your lungs as you fought the urge to snap your legs closed. Meek whimpers rose in your throat as he barely circled around your clit, pressing soft kisses to your temple as your back arched ever so slightly away from his chest.
"Feels good?" He hummed against your skin.
You couldn't articulate words to answer with because at the same time he slipped his index inside you, so slowly you could feel his knuckles sliding past the ring of muscle as your body eagerly accepted the intrusion.
If you had the wherewithal you might have been embarrassed at how badly your legs shook with just that little taste, but thanks to his ministrations there was no room inside your head for anything except how good he made you feel. Gingerly he started stroking against your slick walls, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed on his lap and inadvertently pressed your ass down firmly against his painfully hard erection.
A breathy laugh came from above your head as he slid in the second finger, your hazy eyes seeing hungry amusement dancing in his own. Your lips parted, one hand coming to clutch his forearm in a tight grip but he never slowed the scissoring of his fingers inside you.
"Can't use your words?," he teased.
"Want more," you gasped out as your hips began rolling in fits and starts, awkwardly trying to chase more stimulation from him.
"Lemme take care of you, yeah?" He said as he pulled his fingers away. The absence of him made you whine again in response, but you didn't have time to pout as he helped you ease onto your back, his deft hands helping to strip you and toss your clothes somewhere across the room.
The only thing left on you was the pencil skirt you'd worn out, now bunched up around your abdomen as you laid in the dark, eyes taking him in as he pulled off his shirt, the blindfold also yanked from his neck and lost to the carnivorous floor.
This time it was you playing the role of pervert, eyes wide and drinking in the sight of him from chest to abs to the waist of his pants barely showing the top of his hips. Leaning back he undid the fabric confines with quick movements, letting his cock spring free to lightly slap against his abdomen. Your throat suddenly felt parched taking in his pretty, flushed tip as his hand gave a few quick pumps but his lilting voice snapped you out of your trance.
"That face your making's pretty lewd," you knew he was teasing again, seeing his teeth flash in the half dark as he came down to brace his arms on either side of your head. "It's actually really damn hot."
Your toes curled from the embarrassment at being caught ogling him so nakedly but who could blame you? You could tell from his grin he knew he was attractive, enjoyed making you drool over him.
You let out an content sigh while tilting your head back against the pillows as you felt his cock start to grind against you. The feeling of his weight on you was intoxicating on its own but you were itching for him, impatient to feel him inside you, eager to know exactly how he felt.
His fingers reached down again to spread your folds, middle finger swirling around in your slick. "You're already such a mess." He almost held a tone of awe.
He kissed his way from your cheek to your lips, grinning into the kiss as you spread your legs wider in restless anticipation. Using one hand he dragged your arms to lace behind his neck, resituating himself as he felt your fingers dig into his back already.
"Hold on to me." He could've told you to dive head first into the Pacific and you would've without thought. Satoru pressed another soft kiss to your forehead, a reassurance as you felt the first stitches of pain as the head of his cock nudged its way past your entrance. Your head tipped back, pressing against the pillow as your mouth dropped open.
Your cunt instantly clamped down on him, earning a few pants as he pressed his face against the side of your neck.
"You gotta relax, baby," he whispered raggedly against your ear.
You whimpered. "Can't-"
"You okay? Need you to look at me." He cooed, nudging his nose against yours until you opened your eyes already swimming with tears.
"S'okay, you know I got you, right?"
You nodded, feeling every bit like a crybaby as you clung to his shoulders. You cried out again as he pressed deeper, feeling your rigid walls relax into a smooth, throbbing pulse around him as he slowly bottomed out inside you. Your chest felt heavy, mind somewhere beyond empty as you reveled in just how full he made you feel, your nerves alight feeling him nudging against your cervix.
The pain ebbed with your every exhale, your pussy easing up on its stranglehold letting him know he could move.
"Knew you were a good girl," his light praises made your nails scratch against his warm skin. "Gonna take it all, right?"
His lips devoured yours before you could respond, nipping at your bottom lip before marking a sloppy trail down the column on your throat.
"Wanna hear you make those pretty noises again, can you do that for me?" He spoke between each hot press of his lips against your skin. It felt like you were on fire, doused in sweat and helpless against the feeling of him rocking against your hips.
Little did you know it would be ingrained in his head forever, the feeling of you clenched around him and practically dripping down his twitching balls.
Your hand slid up to tangle in his hair as he found a rhythm, slow deep thrusts that tore moans from deep down in your diaphragm. The smack of his hips against yours made you feel like you were melting apart in a sticky puddle, like hardened sugar powerless to warm water.
The sound of skin smacking felt dreamlike and far away as your eyes screwed shut, fingers tugging at his snowy locks.
Stickiness spreads, hot and thick, throughout your body turning your mind into a sluggish mess and you swore you could feel your heartbeat through your entire body, thrumming in time with every one of Satorus thrusts.
"Fuck," he groaned, "You really know how to get me going." He was unabashedly thrilled to be the one to reduce you to a teary moaning mess, the very first to ever witness it. Equally exciting was the thought that he was the one getting to mold you to his cock, claim you and make sure nobody else could ever make you feel as good.
Your voice was cracking, wobbly on the verge of wailing and you dragged him down to you, frantic lips on any patch of skin you could reach before sinking your teeth into his shoulder after a particularly brutal thrust had him hitting you just right, enough to make stars dance behind your eyelids.
As your pussy clamped down again one of his hands slid down to roughly circle your aching clit, making you squeal and release his shoulder. Rough groans rose from his lips, tongue lapping at the now blooming red splotches on your neck from his previous nips to the skin.
"Gonna make sure I'm the only one who can take care of you."
His words barely reached your ears as you sobbed feeling something like pressure pop deep inside your tummy, wailing his name like a prayer all the whole his fingers never left your clit and his hips never slowed, fucking you through your orgasm.
"Hold on baby, I gotta pull out-"
"No," you hiccuped, delirium curling through the word and making his head drop, teeth gritting feeling your slick heat sucking him back in and your legs locked around his hips.
Your distant, glassy eyes and sweat sheened skin made the case for you, he wasn't going to deny you, the pretty little thing blubbering for him so sweetly against the mattress. But his right mind won out, pulling out at the last second to give himself a few harsh pumps before spilling hot and thick across your belly.
Your unfocused eyes watched him stroke himself dry, feeling the slick mess between your thighs and the little pin pricks of soreness along your throat. It took some time to feel like you'd regained any control of your body, bones feeling more like jello as Satoru toweled you off.
That amused grin stayed lodged on his face as he laid beside you, pulling you over so you were curled against his side.
You whined, small and cracked as your hand rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart helping to ground you.
"What's the matter?" He mused, dragging his fingers up and down your back. "Can't do anything unless you tell me."
As you mumbled your request, eyes closed and avoiding his gaze, he broke out into a cocky laugh.
"There's always next time, don't worry your pretty little head."
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