#I am in lvoe

[b0nkman]

Hey girl I got a crazzyyy oral fixation and I think u could help me out with it 😚😚🔥🔥🔥

[bytebun]

my piece for @thecodywanzine! thanks to the mods who let me go completely ham and cheese on this bad boy. this one's about living longer than you ever expected and not knowing what to do with it

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, shoot, sorry. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”

Nico shifts, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The light in the infirmary is low, and strangely soothing. It’s almost hard to keep his eyes open. But he manages, rubbing his knuckles under the curve of his eyesockets, and searches in the dark until he finds what woke him up.

Will stands a couple feet away from his bed, figure curled and shadowy, owlish eyes wide and almost unnaturally reflective in the dark.

“‘S’okay,” he mumbles. “Couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly Nico feels warmer where Will has stepped closer. “You in pain?“

“No. Just bad at sleeping.”

“Hey, me too.”

Surprise at Will’s easy admission and a little bit starstruck at the bright flash of Will’s grin, Nico doesn’t have the chance to beat himself up over being so flippantly open. His teeth seemed to glow as much as the whites of his eyes, which would be creepy, except it’s hard to feel anything but calm as a cool night breeze wafts the scent of lavender from the sill planters in every inch of the infirmary, and it’s hard to think of Will as anything but warm. Especially the hand he places, briefly, on the curve of Nico’s knee.

“Insomnia?”

“Something like that.”

“Still. Sorry for waking you up.”

Nico hums, fiddling with his skull ring. “Why were you up, anyway?”

“Oh, I won’t have time to sleep for another couple days.”

There’s a mellow cracking sound, and then all of Will’s knuckles begin to glow a soft, sunset yellow. Nico startles.

“Apollo thing,” Will explains. A smirk is now visible at the corner of his mouth, forcing a dimple on his right cheek. In his hands, almost hard to see under the glow, are three small vials of something Nico doesn’t recognize. “Getting meds and salves in order.”

Hesitantly, Nico drags his gaze away from the clinking glass bottles, forcing himself to meet Will’s eyes. They’re ridiculously bright. Is that an Apollo thing, too?

“Why does that mean you can’t sleep?”

Will gestures to the myriad of occupied beds outside the curtains Nico has pulled up. “Shitton of injured, man. I got way more people than I got stuff. I prepped for the Romans beforehand, obviously, but I didn’t have a good hand on their numbers and didn’t prep enough. I’m short on supplies. Haven’t slept since Gaea did.” At Nico’s look of alarm, he quickly assures, “But don’t worry, I had Cecil brew me something strong. It’s disgusting, so I think it might be his Coffee Redbull Matcha Heartstopper Special, With A Shot Of Crushed Caffeine Pills For Good Measure, but I’m not sure. Hands are only a little shakey, though, feel.”

In a mirror of a few days ago (fuck, Nico hopes he’s kidding; how long can people go without sleep?), he darts out and rests his hands under Nico’s. Sure enough, they’re trembling, although nothing nearly as bad as before.

“Dangerous levels of sleep deprivation aren’t as bad as delivering a baby, huh.”

Will shudders. “Don’t even joke.”

He looks so genuinely horrified that Nico can’t help but laugh. All they’ve seen, all they’ve suffered — and golden boy is gagging at the miracle of life. If Nico wasn’t so sure that he’d seen at least as many gory nightmares as Nico, if not more, he’d tease him for being squeamish.

…Actually.

“What kind of school nurse wannabe is squidged out by birth?”

“Nurse?” Will squawks, snatching his hands away (Nico finds his own hands, strangely and suddenly, cold). “I didn’t go to seven years of med school to be called a school nurse wannabe!”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You didn’t go to med school. You’re fifteen.”

“As I said.” He grins teasingly. “I didn’t go.”

It takes Nico a second, but when he gets it he cannot physically hold himself back from kicking him. Solace, weak from muffled laughter, stumbles sideways into a lamp.

“Ay! Be careful, you wanna kill the camp’s only brain surgeon?”

“If he’s being annoying,” Nico bites back. He can’t quite stop smiling, and he’s embarrassed about it, but thankfully the darkness hides his face. “There’s no way you’ve done brain surgery.”

The shitty cot Nico’s been coerced into camping on for the next three days creaks as Will perches on the edge of it.

“Have so. In the woods, two years ago, removed a brain tumour. Stressful as shit.” He flashes another sideways grin. “Couple dozen more medical emergencies under my belt, and I might actually be as qualified as a nurse in this country’s garbage medical system. Thank the gods for them, honestly. They do a shit lot more than a lot of doctors claim to.”

Sensing the topic change for what it is, Nico doesn’t press any further. “That what you wanna do?”

“Aw, man, I don’t even want to think about it. The idea of someone else running this infirmary gives me a stress ulcer. Y’all do a lot of stupid shit and frankly some of the procedures I have performed exist in no medical textbooks anywhere, medical or no.” He snorts. “Anyways.”

His hands are blazingly warm again, almost like sun through a maginifying glass, when they pat his shin twice. He stands, stretching — more bursts of light appearing along the length of his spine, lighting what his fading knuckles leave out.

“Try to sleep again, Neeks. You’ll need it.”

“Maybe I should be the one to say that to you,” Nico says. Will waves his hand dismissively, and in a fit of impulse Nico reaches out and grabs it, meeting his raised eyebrow with a stubborn set to his jaw. “I mean it, Will. No one’s awake right now. I just woke up. Why don’t you crash for an hour or so? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Will hesitates. “If anything happens, that’s on me. It — I can’t let it be on me.”

“Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. Of course Will doesn’t trust him, Nico let someone die in front of his eyes, Nico is the bringer of death and darkness, why would he —

“Yeah.” Will sighs. Nico looks up, startled, but the medic is eyeing one of the few spare cots, face screwed up in consideration. “You’ll wake me?”

“Immediately,” Nico assures hastily. He nods his head at the bunk next to him. “Sleep, man. You look like you need it.”

“Oh, well, just what I’ve always wanted to hear from you. You look stunning, by the way.”

Nico knows it’s a joke, but he flushes anyway. Thank Hades again for the dark infirmary, and the length of his hair.

“Whatever. Sleep or don’t.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

In seconds he’s out of his flip-flops, slightly-scratchy blankets turned up and wrapped tightly around him all the way up to his neck.

“Thanks, Nico. I owe you.”

In the next breath, he’s out, all that’s visible of him the flutter of his light eyelashes and the tangled mop of blond hair. He snores, slightly, with every puffed exhale; a tiny, stuttered sound, not unlike a cat. It’s kind of cute, and Nico’s smiling before he realising.

“You don’t owe anybody shit.” He shakes his head fondly, leaning back onto his pillows to keep an eye out. “Goodnight, Will.”

[nomazee]

dan heng x gn reader — 1.0k — HIGH SCHOOL AU, delinquent reader, you MIGHT be able to tell that i've been playing persona 5 with the way i wrote this, himeko is dan hengs adoptive mother SPREAD THE WORD, nebulous and ambiguous school setting

notes: my first drabble of what will probably be hundreds in the dan heng x delinquent reader saga... THANK YOU GWEN ( @tragedy-of-commons ) for entertaining me and my silly ideas , GUYS READ OUR BIG THREAD ABOUT THIS CONCEPT LINKED HERE i loved yapping about it and i cannot wait to write a million more drabbles for this concept OKAY!!!

warning for mild blood description but nothing really graphic, just the aftermath of a scuffle

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

Dan Heng finds you behind the school in a pool of your own blood, though—it’s less of a pool of it, and more of a steady drip drip drip through the fingers clasped over your bleeding nose. You’re scrambling to get back up on your feet at the sight of him, and he catches a glimpse of a stupid smile from behind the gaps in your fingers. 

Whoever beat you up—successfully, by the looks of it—has long since disappeared, and it’s just you and Dan Heng and your bloody nose alone in the grassy courtyard. 

“Are you serious,” Dan Heng deadpans, because this is not the first time he’s caught you like this and it surely won’t be the last. 

“You should see the other guy,” you joke back, the same way you joked a thousand times before and the same way you’ll joke a thousand times again. It was never funny, not in Dan Heng’s opinion, and each stupid quip of yours makes his patience run thinner and thinner. 

The sight of blood smeared across your face is sickening. It seeps into the cracks of your fingers with every attempt you make to wipe your lips clean, but blood clings and sticks and you never learn your lesson. Dan Heng sighs, the first of many, already swinging his backpack off his shoulder and rummaging through it to find his usual pack of baby wipes and gauze. 

It’s not exactly a daily occurrence, but this has happened often enough to train Dan Heng’s hands. He moves silently, brow furrowed and fingers shaking with hesitation—like he’s scared that he’ll hurt you, which is funny because you’ve already been hurt at the hands of someone else. If he lingers on that thought for too long, his stomach will start to twist, so he leaves it alone.

The damp cloth of a baby wipe is cool against his fingers as he swipes it across your face, his other hand firmly planted on your shoulder to keep you still. He clicks his tongue when you make a gargled sniffling noise, muttering a low stop that before you choke on your own blood. 

“Why so quiet?” you ask, still with that stupid smile on your face even as he pulls out a second wipe for your face. “There’s so much to talk about. Did you take that quiz in Gallagher’s class today? It was so bad! Half the stuff on there wasn’t even in the study guide.” 

“Shut up,” Dan Heng mumbles, loud enough that you can hear him but quiet enough that there’s no real bite to it. The shake in his hands has only grown, because there was so much blood dried on your face that it’s already soaked through the wipe and smears across the tips of his fingers, and it’s not just the sight of blood that makes him nauseous, but the knowledge that it’s yours. 

“Heng,” you say, something like a petulant whine in your voice, and he wishes god, for once, can’t you take this seriously, you’ve caused him so much grief in the last two months of knowing you and it’s a miracle that he hasn’t gone gray already. Your hand—still blotted with crimson, dried into rusty smudges—goes up to grab his. It’s pressed against your cheek, the half-dry wipe still in his grasp, clinging to your skin. Dan Heng holds back a flinch at how warm your hands are compared to his own—cold, clammy, trembling.

“It’s late,” you continue, voice still light but the weight of your words settling deep between his shoulder blades, “I have to walk you home. Otherwise your mom will think I’m busy beating you up.”

“Not—“ he starts, choked and face warming so suddenly that it makes his head spin, “—she’s not my mom,” and it’s an oversimplification, and not important right now, and soon he’ll develop an immunity to your distractions. “That was a lot of blood. You should be going straight home.” And he realizes he doesn’t even know where you live, doesn’t know how far you are from his home, how out-of-your-way it is to walk him home nearly every day. He doesn’t ask—you’d never answer. 

“It wasn’t that much,” you wave off his concern, “it stopped bleeding already. And my nose isn’t broken. And I’m walking just fine!” It’s one positive after another with you, and Dan Heng sighs again, already losing count of how many times he’s done it. 

There’s a moment where you waver, face tensing and wobbling, bloody lips bitten back for a second before that stupid grin is on your face again and you say, tersely, “What, scared you’ll get caught with me?” 

And isn’t that an odd way to say it—caught with me, spoken like it’s a curse. Like he’s paying penance by standing behind the school with you, your hand clasped around his. It takes every ounce of self-control for him not to drag his fingers down and wipe the blood off your face himself, staining his fingers and his heart. He wonders what it would mean, then catches himself, again and again, like he’s been doing for two months on repeat.

“No,” he says, urgent in a way that’s unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying to prove himself, dedicated in a way that makes him nauseous, the same way that the blood on your face makes his stomach squeeze. “That’s— not it. You can walk me home. But Himeko will— she’ll fuss over you, you know that. It’ll be annoying.” 

“Annoying?” you say, incredulous. “As if! I love that woman. I hope she has those almond cookies, you know, like the ones from last week,” because of course you walked him home last week, too, and Himeko spent thirty minutes making you taste-test every sweet thing she had in her cabinets all while giving Dan Heng an unsettlingly knowing look. He represses a shudder at the memory, and gives you an acknowledging hum. 

“Probably not,” he tells you, “she eats them all before I even get a chance.” 

“She wouldn’t do that if you told her they were for me! Since I’m her favorite person, and all.” And Dan Heng can neither confirm nor deny, but his finger twitches when it brushes against your hand as you walk side-by-side, and he thinks you might’ve hit it right on the money, whether you’re Himeko’s favorite person or his.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @flower-yi

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[dizzybizz]

please consider jellyfish john,, for me 🥺?

[shiresome]

WATCHING BTAS WITH MY LITTLE SISTER

[kimodraw]

buffy fanart from the past few days,,,,catching up on the real hashtag classics first two are kind of mignola studies and the last ones are me enjoying oz and willow's puppy love :))

[catgirljaneway]

Tuvok and Kathryn and the time Kathryn destroyed the timeline get Tuvok back.

/I Swear Somewhere This Works - Trista Mateer/

[charactervocal02]

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[ashusee]

LOOK QWGAT NT MY BOYFRIEND @kwoomochi @kwoomochi COLORED WHILE WE WERE WATCHING SILLY VIDEOS THIS IS EVERYTHIUNG MOTOHA RYUJI FATHER DAUGHTER MOMENT THEY GOING SHOPPING THEY THEY TEHY @kwoomochi

THE COLORS ARE SO @kwoomochi PERFECT AND THE SMAL DETAILS AS ALWAYS ARE EVERYTHINGGGG THIS IS EVERYTHING I LOVEEEE YOUUU @kwoomochi

THIS IS EVERYTHING

[m-eaty]

I got new brushes but also sangheili are Very Shaped.

[ptanalo]

I was talking shop with dani and also a diagram I did a day ago abt their dynamics where it's just neon third-wheeling

[endrimer]

i love the idea of little normal inheriting the doodler psychic connection somehow

[carlyraejepsans]

"I hope you found this amusing" lady i would find you in every universe

[jakesjohnson]

Welcome to England.

Ted Lasso | 1.01

[eddiegettingshot]

also. Parameddie strikes again. what do you mean diaz you take point. he saw this like a decade ago at least