#I love putting him in stressful situations

[yuechihua]

a midnight guest.

summary: jamil has to contend with an unexpected guest and his own growing feelings when ramshackle dorm's pipes burst and kalim invites you to stay at scarabia.

notes: 4.7k words, author's notes, fluff

Jamil has long known of Kalim’s unfortunate habit of picking up strays, his inability to resist a pitiful look or downturned mouth, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised when Kalim shows up at the dorm with you and Grim in tow. 

“I’m giving them a place to stay!” Kalim announces, gesturing at you and Grim like he’s presenting Jamil with two kittens he’s found off the side of the road. His smile is bright, even as the sun slips down the horizon, painting the entrance of their dorm in darkening oranges and reds.

A cool breeze stirs through the evening, and Jamil keeps his face perfectly neutral as his eyes bore into you and Grim. Grim shuffles like an impatient child, but you’re more tranquil, clutching a duffel bag to your chest.

When you notice Jamil’s eyes on you, you smile at him, apologetic.

“Sorry,” you murmur. There’s a trace of embarrassment in your voice. “I know this is unexpected. But the pipes at Ramshackle burst, and no one else has room for me. I was going to ask Crowley, but—”

“But I found them!” Kalim interrupts. “And we have so much room, and the idea of our friends out in the cold is sad, and the more the merrier, right?”

Kalim picking up strays is a kind gesture, sure, but with his scattered attention, the responsibilities and care inevitably end up falling on Jamil. Promising things he can’t keep, making plans that just end up creating more work and stress for other people, thinking kindness is a convenient excuse for every irresponsible action: it’s all so painfully Kalim it makes Jamil want to shake him until some loose screw in his head clicks into place.

You’re not to blame for this situation, not really. Jamil doesn’t even hold any particular distaste for you; his shit list is a mile long, but you’ve generally managed to keep yourself off it. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s enthused at having to put up another guest for the night. It’s a security risk, even though he doubts you could do anything with both a lack of magic and malice.

Additionally, you’ve always been more of Kalim’s friend than his. Everything he has belongs to Kalim, but nothing of Kalim belongs to him, as much as Kalim insists they share everything, like true friends do. It’s a naive thought, ugly in the pure way Kalim says it. Jamil has no desire to compete for things that can’t be his. 

Besides, friendship means nothing in their world. Someone is always waiting with a knife behind their back or poison in their hand. You could mean well, but who’s to say you don’t have ulterior motives of your own?

“Come in,” he says. His voice is smooth, cordial. The perfect attendant, the diligent servant. “We do have quite a few spare rooms. I can make one up for you.”

“Oh, and they should join us for dinner, too! Jamil is the best cook,” Kalim says, turning towards you with puppy-dog enthusiasm. “You’ll love anything he makes!”

“I don’t want to impose,” you begin.

“Free grub? Count me in!” Grim says. “Whatcha got on the menu?”

“Ooo! I don’t know! But I just know it’s going to be good. Do you have anything you want? I’m sure we can get it for you!”

Jamil lets a sigh escape him. You’re the only one who seems to notice, watching him with a tilted head, as if observing him, but he has no time to puzzle out your intentions. Dinner was just supposed to be Kalim and him, and now he has to figure out a way to feed two additional people. There’s no reason for you to pay attention to him, regardless.

The rest of the evening passes only with the minimal amount of trouble that Kalim’s presence usually brings: careless promises of future parties, a mess of dishes he has to clean, and overwhelming generosity that needs to be checked. Somehow, Jamil manages to whip together a few more dishes to feed both you and Grim, the latter whose stomach seems to be endless. Kalim’s chatter flows just as eternally, and Jamil can only pray for dinner to be over quickly.

When it’s over, he guides you and Grim to your room, leading you down winding hallways and luxuries strewn carelessly at every corner, priceless vases and artwork that’s worth more money than he can make in a lifetime. It’s a constant reminder of Kalim’s wealth, his endless presence saturing into every corner of the dorm.

“This is your room,” he says. It’s a spare guest room, one of many, in fact, that Kalim has. It’s sumptuous as all of them are, with silk drapes, embroidered bed sheets, and heavy wooden furniture crafted by skilled artisans. 

“This is one swanky place!” Grim crows. “Do ya think we can take some of it home?”

Jamil smiles, a touch coldly. “Only if you can afford it. A pillow alone is worth more than your entire dorm.”

“Okay, jeez,” Grim murmurs. 

“Thank you for this, Jamil,” you say. You linger at the doorway, even as Grim runs in and starts jumping on the bed in delight, the mattress soft and springy enough to launch him several feet in the air.

“Say nothing of it. Kalim invites friends over all the time.”

“It just seems like a lot of work,” you venture. “And it was last minute. I feel bad.”

“Don’t. It’s no more work than I’m used to.”

“All right.” You look like you want to say more, but mercifully, you only dip your head at him. “Good night, Jamil.”

“Good night, prefect.” If there was one thing to say about you, then it was that you understood when to keep your mouth shut and read the mood, a skill both Kalim and Grim sorely lacked.

It’s late at night when Jamil finally has time for himself, and he settles on the edge of his bed, letting his hair loose, running through the list of everything he has to do in the morning. It’s exhausting that his day never really seems to end. There’s always something to prepare for, another task to consider, someone else to watch over.

Not even his time belongs to him. His life will always be spent at another’s whims. 

His head throbs. He stands, running a hand through his hair. Maybe he’ll grab some water to help him sleep.

The halls are silent at this time of night, a change from the usual noise and rush of students. It’s peaceful, the shadows pooling at his feet, the moonlight gilding everything in silver. In its solitude, it almost makes Jamil feel like the dorm is his, as foolish of a thought as it is.

There’s shuffling coming from the kitchen. He freezes just beyond the door, hand gripping the pen in his pocket. An intruder? Or another student? Regardless, he rounds the corner, pen in his hand, a spell on the tip of his tongue—before you whirl around, lit by the buttery yellow light of the fridge, clutching a plate of grapes and a glass of water with one hand.

“Jamil,” you say in a gasp, startling just enough that the water ripples in your cup. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”

“I could say the same of you,” he says, relaxing his grip on his pen.

“I was still feeling hungry. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so…”

“What about Grim?”

“He’s asleep. Here, let me get you some water.”

“I don’t need–” But you’re already reaching for another ceramic cup, and it’s more trouble to refuse this small kindness than it is to accept it. He leans against the island in the middle of the kitchen, marble counter digging into his hip, watching you fill the glass at the sink.

“Here.” You offer it to him. “Want some grapes, too?”

He looks at the pile of grapes in your dish, shining in rich, luscious purples and greens, like miniature jewels, dew clinging to the skin. “I’ll take one.”

The water is cool, and the grapes burst with fresh, sweet juice on his tongue. The two of you snack in the quiet. It’s surprising how relaxed he feels, how easy it is to be by your side. There’s no malice from you, nor a crushing weight of expectation. You’re like the clear, refreshing water in a stream.

The grapes are almost gone when you speak, rolling one between your fingers like a marble. “I’ve always wanted to talk to you more.”

“Me?” he says.

“Is there another Jamil Viper in the room?” you tease. “Yes, you.”

“Why? There’s no benefit to getting to know me. I’m not like Kalim.”

There’s a mischievous edge to your smile as you glance at him. “So what? I just want to get to know you.”

“... I’m not an interesting person.”

“I like people like you,” you say. “Here. Let me wash these.” Before he can protest, you’re already grabbing his cup and bringing all the dishes to the sink. Your words are strange, and he can’t make sense of them at all. Him? You want to know him? After everything he’s done to present himself as an ordinary student, why would you take an interest in him?

Maybe it’ll be to his benefit, though. You have ties to Crowley, and your own social connections could prove useful someday. There’s always the possibility that you’re attempting to use him in some regard, too. If that’s the case, then a relationship of mutual give and take isn’t the worst thing in the world, despite your lack of magic.

“Good night again, Jamil,” you say. It’s an odd feeling, not having to rush around, knowing things will fall apart if he doesn’t keep them together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” he says. You leave. For a few seconds more, Jamil lingers in the empty kitchen, the memory of the sweet taste of grapes on his tongue.

In the morning, you act no differently than usual. It’s as if Jamil dreamt the entirety of last night’s encounter.

“I hope you slept well,” you greet him at breakfast.

“I hope the same for you,” Jamil responds. He’s attentive to your movements, studying you out of the corner of his eye. You act no differently than normal, chiding Grim for eating so fast he chokes, and bantering with Kalim. You’re casual, relaxed. 

The day passes much the same after that. He keeps track of Kalim, handles various chores throughout the day, and attends classes, perfecting his goal of keeping his grade at a middling, respectable level.

It bothers Jamil, just a little, how aware he is of you, seeing the flutter of your uniform in the corridors, hearing your laughter across the lunchroom. When you’re with your friends, Ace and Deuce, passing him in the halls, you smile at him.

“Hello, Jamil,” you greet.

“Hello,” he responds.

There’s no more to your conversation, simple and short as it is, even as he hears Ace in a fierce whisper, exclaiming, “Prefect, I didn’t think you knew Jamil!”

Jamil entertains the thought that you’re simply trying to cozy up to him in order to target Kalim, but he banishes it as soon as it arrives. You’re already friends with Kalim, so if you wanted to harm him, you’d have the chance to do so by now. So why the interest in him? What possible reason could you have to get closer to him?

That night, as he sits in bed, Jamil can’t bring himself to sleep. Instead, he heads out to the kitchen again. It’s for no reason other than a midnight snack, he reassures himself, even as his pace quickens when he hears the quiet noise of someone in the kitchen past the hour everyone should be asleep.

You’re perched on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs, a pot of warm tea gently humming on the stove. There are two cups and a plate of crackers set next to you.

It’s hard to believe you’ve taken a genuine interest in him, but the suspicions temporarily relax as you offer him a cracker from the same stash you’re munching on. He takes it without a word, and you pour tea into the second cup, sliding it over to him.

“You look nice with your hair down,” you greet. “Can’t sleep?”

“I wanted to stretch my legs,” he says. “And you?”

“I’m just here because I want to be.”

“I see.” Jamil takes a sip from his tea. It’s fragrant and floral and altogether a gentle taste.

There’s no more conversation until the food is done and the tea is cooled, at which point you simply hop off the counter and say, “Good night, Jamil.”

“Good night, prefect,” he responds.

In the morning, over breakfast, as Grim squabbles over Kalim feeding him too many crackers, you say, over your own plate once he finally sits down, “Good morning, Jamil. Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. It was fine.”

It’s a simple greeting, nothing more. But there’s a weight to your words, as if your day can’t start and your night can’t end until you see him.

After that, it becomes an unspoken agreement for the two of you to meet every night. In that quiet space of time, when everyone else is asleep and the halls belong to him, Jamil finds himself drawn to the kitchen. It’s rare that he arrives before you do, with your plate of simple snacks and quiet companionship.

The two of you talk about nothing in particular, but even a relaxed, meandering conversation still washes away the exhaustion of his day. The sound of your voice has come to be rather familiar and soothing.

“Grim keeps a stash of tuna cans under his bed for emergencies, but keeps eating through them whenever he gets hungry, which defeats the point of having a stash,” you’ll tell him. 

“Kalim doesn’t even think to keep food on him,” Jamil will reply dryly. “All he has to do is ask someone to fetch him something if he’s hungry.”

This is the only time of his day in which he has a moment for himself. Yet, he doesn’t mind sharing a piece of his time with you. You have common sense; you don’t irritate him unnecessarily; you’re clever and useful. That’s all it is, and no more than that.

“You look at the prefect a lot,” Kalim remarks once.

“I don’t,” Jamil replies. “Since they’re our guests, I’m just taking it upon myself to make sure their needs are met.”

Still, perhaps Jamil has gotten too used to your presence if even Kalim notices, though Kalim has always had his moments of unnerving emotional perception.

Several weeks or so later, you, Grim, Jamil and Kalim are passing time in the lounge. The four of you are supposed to be “studying” (read: you and Jamil are going over class notes, and Kalim and Grim are playing some nonsensical card game whose rules they keep making up). Occasionally, though, when he looks up, he’ll meet your gaze, and you’ll make a silly face at him. It’s cute, not that he would ever tell you that.

He’s just put his pen to paper when Kalim exclaims, in a voice louder than it needs to be, “Ramshackle is fixed?”

“Yeah, they just got it done. But dunno if I wanna go back tomorrow,” Grim says. “We’ve got a nice gig here.”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” Kalim says. “Oh, and feel free to visit as often as you want, too! It’s going to be lonely without you two!”

A blotch of ink is forming under his pen, staining his paper with a dark pool. Of course. How could he forget? Your time here is temporary. You were always going to leave, and it’ll be a relief to have two less people to worry about. 

He only feels so strange because he’s fallen into a habit of greeting you every morning, and seeing you every night. It’s simply difficult when his routine is shaken in unexpected ways, that’s all.

Jamil risks a glance at you, but your head is still bent over your paper. He can’t make out your expression, but your hands have stilled over your notebook. What are you thinking? He won’t be able to find out until tonight.

Grim and Kalim chatter in the background, returning to their game, but you and Jamil are both weighed down by unexpected silence. The blotch on his paper has grown, ink staining and spreading. There’s no way to fix it now.

The evening passes slower than usual. Jamil finds himself hurrying to the kitchen, the moon lighting his way as he flies with silent steps. However, several feet away, voices and warm light spill out from beneath the door.

Jamil’s pace slows, something sludgy and dark churning in his stomach. He doesn’t want to look, but he has to. You’re in the kitchen as usual, elbows propped against the counter, a plate of cookies resting beside you. And right next to you, his smile glowing like the sun, eyes crinkled in foolish complacency, is Kalim.

The two of you are engaged in some conversation about classes or extracurriculars. As Jamil stands in the pool of shadows, outside the reach of the light, all he can think about is how wide your smile is, an ease in your stance that only Kalim can bring out in people.

“Hi Jamil!” Kalim chirps, head perking up in his direction. “You can’t sleep, either? I was just going to grab something to eat, but then I saw the prefect was here!”

“No,” he says. “I wasn’t able to.”

“Come join us,” Kalim urges. “Do you want some of these cookies?”

“I’m not hungry.”

The thing about wanting, Jamil finds, is that it’s useless. Desires like his will only go unfulfilled, because, after all, he can never put himself first. Everything he does, everything he has, will only ever be given in service to Kalim. He’s doomed to forced mediocrity, to hide in the shadows to make Kalim shine brighter.

It’s a lesson he’s had to learn again, and again, and again. Nothing is his. He can only bite back his own useless anger, a snake choking on its own poison.

“I’m going to go on a walk,” he says.

“Okay! Come back when you’re done!” Kalim exclaims.

Jamil doesn’t meet your eyes as he strides away, keeping his steps even, measured, and fast. You’ll be gone by tomorrow, and he will still be here with Kalim, the shackles of an unchanging relationship and routine and future.

His body reacts before his mind can when he hears footsteps behind him, whirling around before your outstretched hand can touch him. It hovers in the air between the two of you, before you let it fall.

“Jamil,” you say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just needed to clear my head.”

Your eyes are luminous, reflecting the silver of the moon. “Can I walk with you, then?”

“You left Kalim behind?”

“I was worried about you,” you say. “He’s all right. He was going to head to bed soon, anyway.”

He lets out a sigh, runs a hand through his hair. “All right.”

It’s a quiet walk. He’s learned to keep his footsteps silent, but you haven’t had to learn that same skill. It’s a strange comfort, the echo of your rhythmic steps, a constant reminder of your presence. He finds himself trying to match your particular pace.

“Grim and I are moving back to Ramshackle now that the pipes have been repaired,” you say. “They had to overhaul the entire thing.”

“It’ll be nice to go back home, I’m sure.”

“Yes, but I’ll miss Scarabia.”

“Like Kalim said, you’re welcome to visit.”

“Would you be okay with that?”

“If Kalim says it’s all right, I don’t see why not.”

You scuff at the ground with one of your shoes, as if you’re unsatisfied with that answer. “I’ll miss this too, you know.”

“Hm?”

“Getting you to myself every night,” you say. “I like Kalim, but I don’t really get to spend time with you alone like this.”

At some point while you’ve been talking, your steps have slowed to a crawl until you’re no longer moving. He’s stopped as well. You stare at him, unflinching, chin raised. What does he look like in your eyes?

“You say a lot of bold things, prefect.”

“You don’t get what you want if you’re not bold.”

That’s not true, he wants to say, but what would the point be? Right now, you’re still here. You’re with him. Your words are assured, confident, in a way that makes him want to believe you. 

“It’s a nice night,” he begins. “Nice enough for a flight.”

If Jamil was a better person, he could say the suggestion in his words is born from affection, an innocent desire to be close to you. After all, Kalim is the one constantly offering people rides on his magic carpet, as if the sky is also a luxury he can own. But he doesn’t own it, and he doesn’t own your time, either.

“Should we go for a loop around the area, then?” you say.

It takes little effort to find a broom and repurpose it for his uses; flight magic is a parlor trick, but magic has always come easily to him. What Jamil has to be more careful with is flying with another person as he drags the enchanted broom out to a balcony. You hop on with ease, keeping a suitable distance behind him, hands wrapped around the handle in front of you. 

You seem used to the process. Have one of your freshman friends taken you out like this? Or Kalim? Were you comfortable enough to wrap your arms around their waist with the unthinking nature of affection?

“Should I get closer?” you ask. There’s new mischief in your voice, as if you can sense his thoughts. If nothing else, Jamil is tangibly aware of the warmth and weight of you behind him.

“Only if you don’t want to fall off,” he says curtly. There’s rustling, and then your arms are sliding around his waist, hugging him close. Jamil is silently thankful for the fact you can’t see his face.

“It’s always important to be careful of flight safety. Vargas told us that, you know!”

“Don’t let go, then.”

With no more warning, he sets off into the air, ascending with a practiced ease and speed. Up, and up, and up, until he can disappear into the clouds, reach up close to touch the frosty brightness of the stars, until everything below him shrinks and disappears into insignificance and nothing matters except for this.

The wind kisses his face, the cool night enveloping him. He’s free. He could go anywhere, do anything, and there will be nothing to stop him. This is his, all his.

“How far do you think you can go?” you shout, raising your voice against the rushing air. 

“As far as I want.”

“Are there any places you want to visit, then?”

“Everywhere,” Jamil says. The wind frees an honesty in him he wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise. Or maybe it’s just because it’s you. “I’ve always wanted to go all over the world at some point.”

“Well, we have one night to do it all,” you say, playfully. 

“You want to come with me?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Your arms are still looped around his waist, the only spot of warmth against the cold night.

“It wouldn’t be too bad if you did.” 

In response to his words, you squeeze his waist once.

The two of you soar through the air for another hour, until you start shivering and Jamil brings his broom around, alighting on the same balcony you departed from. It’s over, but the thrill of his momentary freedom still hums in his blood.

Perhaps you’re feeling the same way, because neither of you make a move to head inside. Instead, you rest your arms atop the white stone balustrade, staring out at the sky.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” he says. 

“Yeah. I can’t impose on you any longer. So, can you indulge me a little?”

“What is it?”

“Let’s spend a little more time together.”

“All right,” he concedes. You start making your way down the halls, a cheer lighting your steps. You’re heading to the kitchen again, and this time, it’s mercifully empty. No Kalim in sight, all the lights turned off. The only reminder of his presence is the empty plate left on the counter, which Jamil will have to wash later.

You drum your fingers on the marble island, some imaginary rhythm he can’t follow, before sliding down to sit against it, knees tucked up to your chin. You wave a hand at him, and he reluctantly sinks down until he’s cross legged, right next to you, on the cool tile floor. Shadows and appliances he uses everyday stretch out before him, but the darkness always makes everything a little unfamiliar.

“It feels like this is our secret clubhouse,” you say. “It’s nice.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I like spending time with you.”

“Why?” he asks. “I told you from the beginning. I’m not an interesting person. There’s not a lot I can do for you.”

Your smile is cheeky as you rest your head on your knees. “Let me tell you a secret, Jamil. Ramshackle was actually fixed a while ago. Grim and I could have left a lot sooner; he just let the proverbial cat out of the bag by accident today.”

“Prefect,” Jamil says, appraising you with renewed interest. “You’re slyer than you look.”

You wiggle your fingers. “You don’t get by without being a little underhanded, you know!”

Your conversation winds pleasantly through all manners of topics, from the mundane to the academic. The hours are ticking away, and he’ll have to get up in the morning to handle all his various responsibilities. But it’s hard to tear himself away from you, even when his limbs grow numb from sitting for so long. If Jamil leaves, he knows the moment will be over. Just for now, it’s the two of you, alone in your own world. 

You’re yawning when he finally broaches his question; he’s been waiting for just the right moment. “Prefect.”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you leave once Ramshackle was fixed?”

It’s hard to look away from you when you keep smiling at him like this, as if he’s being drawn like the tides by the moon: a helpless, and inevitable, phenomenon. “Because I want to say good morning and good night to you every day.”

“Oh.”

“Jamil?”

“Yes?”

“What about you?”

The thing about want is that Jamil is familiar with it; he knows acutely what it’s like to desire more than he should, to have it fester and rot from inside, as if it’ll destroy him if he doesn’t do something about it. Nothing is his, but maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to have just one thing, something he can’t let anyone else take from him, to selfishly cling to it.

 “I’m going to tell you good night, prefect. And when you wake, I’ll be the first one to greet you,” he says.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even right now you’ll do it?”

“I’ll say it first if you want. Good night, prefect.”

 Good night, Jamil.” The sleepy excitement in just those few words alone is palatable.

You lean your head against his shoulder, and he shifts so it’s comfortable. Neither of you speak. From your even breathing, you might have fallen asleep already.

In a second, Jamil will move. He can wake you up just long enough for you to walk back to your room, or he’ll carry you if he has to. Then, he’ll slip into his own bed. If the two of you are caught together, it’ll cause too much commotion. 

But for now, Jamil will simply enjoy your presence, and tomorrow, he’ll be the first to tell you, “Good morning.”

[howlingmod]

SIT NEXT TO ME!

summary - how some of the survivors and killers show their love ... giggles

misc - low quality content im so tire .... but i must write .... it is demanded of me .....

Noob - Physical Touch

-Simple pleasure, simple guy, what can I say.

-It's not even something they're aware of half the time, a big part of what probably tipped you off to their feelings for you in the first place was their touchiness. While they're more physical with everyone, it definitely lingered with you more. They'd stick closer to you on excursions and, more often than not, would be brushing shoulders with you when working on generators.

-They just like being able to feel your presence, it's grounding to them in a big way. A lot of the time they'll have a hand on you just because it feels comforting, usually it's on your shoulder or they'll reach for your arm if you've got one free (they prefer holding onto your arm/hooking arms more than handholding to be honest ... it just feels so much more secure and special !!)

-Late at night they'll frequently fidget with your hands, looking at all the lines in your palms and the little cuts and marks that litter your skin. It puts them in a trance, you're just so gorgeous to them, in that human, real kinda way. It's hard for them to put into words ...

007n7 - Physical Touch

-Before .... everything, he's a lot more varied. If anything, he probably leaned more towards acts of service- he likes making your life easier, especially with you (presumably) helping him raise c00lkid. It's not easy being a parent, he knows how stressful it and daily living in general can be. He feels good if he can make your day a little less stressful.

-Now though, he really needs that grounding. There's just so much missing. He's not really on great terms with anyone here and he knows he deserves it. You're all he has left. You're the only shred of his perfect life left.

-It's the little things when you guys are around others, the way he sticks to your side, the times where he'll subtly reach for your hand and squeeze it in reassurance, where he'll hug you when you get back from an excursion and look you over. It's the little bits of vulnerability he can spare to show you he loves you.

-Other times, it's more desperate, tight clinging to your form when you lay together because everything's suddenly clamped down on him like a million weights. It's those times that feel most like a perverted version of the ways you used to lay together when things were better, less suffocating and mournful. Sometimes you still expect the door to your room to open and c00lkid to crawl under the sheets with you two. He never does.

Shedletsky - Quality Time

-Ohhh my god this guy does not shut up. He's always got some story to tell you about, some little anecdote that something you said or something that happened reminded him of. You never really know how accurate he's being to reality, you can make your guesses but he'll only ever smile and shrug if you ask for confirmation.

-It could come off as egotistical or annoying if it weren't fairly obvious it was his way of keeping morale up. What, you think he's making things up? Why, he'd never! You'll just have to argue with him about it if you care so much. It's just a way of keeping your mind on something other than your current situation, even if it means he has to be the butt of a joke more than a few times. Besides, he just thinks playfighting with you is fun sorryyyyy <//3

-That being said, he can be serious. What you two are going through isn't exactly easy, you can't always ignore it, you have to face it head on sometimes. If you wanna talk about how scared you feel not knowing what's going to happen, he'll listen and admit he's scared too. If you wanna talk about how hopeless everything feels, he'll admit he's felt the same way a few times before. He might not be as emotional but he's forthcoming with his experiences, the last thing he wants you to feel is alone, if he can make you feel heard and helped then he's happy to admit to every bad dream that's ever haunted him.

-It'll always end with some little glimmer of hope, no matter how vague. He can't afford to lose you to apathy, he'll spin as many tales and sneak as many wishes he has for the two of you into your conversations as it takes for you to keep going just a little longer. He doesn't know what the future looks like, but he wants you to be there with him to see it.

Dusekkar - Acts of Service

-While they're more than good with their words and freely give out their praise to you, they also worry about your physical well-being frequently. Even if you're in good standings, they'll be keeping an eye on you. It's just a habit they've picked up protecting the others that's amplified tenfold for you. Perhaps they're a little biased with their shields, but they couldn't bear to lose you.

-They'll make your life easier in any way that they can, they know that the stress of everything can add up and they want you to stay strong despite it. They can't stand idly by and let you fall to the wayside, rotting in fear and pain. How could they ever truly protect you if they allowed for you to crumble right in their arms?

-It's little things- letting you sleep in longer, making sure you get a little extra food even if it means sacrificing some of their portion, hovering around you whenever you head out on an excursion. You're their world, their muse, their heart- they'll make sure you know how important you are to them and how deeply they care for your health in every way they can, it's what you deserve.

John Doe - Acts of Service(?)

-John's a weird one. He only has so much he can do for you without risking hurting you. If he sticks around you too often that could alert the other survivors and cause them to attack you. He can take bullets, you can't. Additionally, he has to be careful, that corrupted arm of his isn't exactly gentle. He knows fully that he could crush you, kill you in the blink of an eye if he isn't careful. So, he has to settle for little gestures.

-He'll leave you alone when he hunts. He'll heard you in the direction of generators, supplies, warm corners free from the chilling wind. If everyone else dies he'll walk you back home, paint you with their blood to make sure it doesn't look suspicious. He'll watch from afar till you disappear into the closed doors of your 'base.' Even then, you suspect he doesn't leave until later, hovering around as a spare set of eyes and ears on you.

-Even then, he's selfish, takes gambles when he hangs around you for just a little while longer. He'll contort, physically pulling the shoulder of his monstrous arm as far back as he can to avoid the chances of even brushing it against you when he reaches for you with the other. He'll keep it restrained, muscles pulled taut just to keep you to his side in a rare moment of peace. He's a man of few words, you can only imagine what his vocal chords have been turned into, but if you push your head close enough to his chest you just might hear him breathe out an "I love you" in between the pained labor of his lungs.

1x4 - Gift giving

-Likewise, he also can't stick around for very long. That doesn't mean he won't make a lasting mark on you. He's more risky, he knows that if the others found out and tried anything he could paint the walls red with them all before they could even lay a finger on you. He thinks he could take care of you far better than they could, provide a better home, protect you better than they could ever try to. More than once he's thought about faking your death, making a bloody scene for the others to find so he can take you from them. They're only a burden on you, a risk you (for whatever reason) worry yourself with.

-He won't force you, he's some humanity left, but that doesn't mean he won't show them up (to him, at least). He'll present you with enough jewels and gold to make an officiant pale with the dried gums of blood in between the joints, kick supplies in your direction and rip them from the hands of fallen survivors to give to you, he's offered up fingers, bones and heads as a show of his prowess and only grumbles when you turn them down.

-He'll never understand why you bother yourself in the ways you do, taking others under your wing when they can't do anything but leech off of you in return, so he'll have to make up for their inabilities instead. Where they can only take, he'll give you more than you could've ever dreamed for. It's his way of displaying how special you are to him, the pride he takes in you just as you do him. Consider himself a dragon and you the lucky singular he allows into his hoard.

+ (PLATONIC/FAMILIAL) C00lkid - N/A

-Well ... c00lkids always really liked spending time with you and dad! Dad always had cool stories about all the stuff he got up to when he was younger and you always had fun games to play with him and dad. Sometimes you'd draw with him and happily hang up his art to admire everytime you went through the kitchen before work and then he'd spend the whole day drawing more and more for you to look at, making up stories (that usually involved dracobloxxers) and worlds to tell you all about during dinner.

-Other times you guys would play tag! Usually it didn't last very long, at some point you'd get tired and have to sit down for a while and do something else with him (SAD!) but you'd been running a lot more recently! He hadn't been able to tag you in a whiiile, but he knows he will eventually! You've just been giving him another challenge to overcome like you always did, ducking around corners and over ledges. It's hard, he's scraped his knees pretty bad a few times and run into the walls more than he can count, but he always gets back up!

-It's a little weird to him though. He's never really played with anyone other than you and dad. He doesn't really know why those other people are there. You won't tell him. You never stop running. (He misses when you'd get tired, when you'd stop and hold him while you watched a movie together instead.) (He misses you and dad talking to eachother, telling him stories and dancing with him in the kitchen.) (Did he do something wrong? Are you mad at him? Why won't either of you just TALK to him!-) (If he stops chasing you, won't you be sad? Would he be disappointing you?)

-Sometimes he suddenly gets very sad. Sometimes you stand still and look at him from afar and you don't smile at him. Just stare and have this weird, long-gone look he's never seen before. He thinks about walking up to you, asking what's wrong, if you and dad hate him, why you always run but he knows you'll just run again. Instead he just chases after everyone else and wishes dad would order pizza again and you would put band-aids over the cuts on his knees from falling and the pricks of branches on his arms.

[auguryofjellyfish]

wada essay time!! (warning, it's super long.)

i've been thinking a lot about wada and hiroaki's relationship lately. specifically, the way wada expresses physical and verbal affection towards him, because it's different from how he acted towards anyone he's been close to so far. it's super interesting to me, so i wanted to analyze and speculate about it. before i get to that, i want go to through the other major relationships wada's had for comparison, starting with...

wada and tsuno.

tsuno was very generous with showing affection towards wada, often taking him into her arms at the slightest hint of upset, or saying that she loves him out of the blue and then moving on like it was nothing. but wada didn't really return her gestures, or initiate any, so for the longest time i was confused on how he felt about her. in [audio visual experience], when she called him her little brother, he said "you're still running with that?", thinking it's just been a bit. he was keeping her at arm's length, but he still clearly liked and trusted her so... there could be a few possible explanations for that.

some time ago, i said that wada seems like he doesn't really trust words. he looks at people's actions and behaviour, and he believes his own conclusions over what people say. tsuno frequently put up a front around wada, acting way too upbeat during dire situations or hiding when she was upset. she didn't want to burden him with her problems, but it does signal a lack of trust in him and his capabilities to support her back. and wada saw that. he knew that she was stressed and overworked, and that he added to that stress by being constantly sick and breaking down and generally needing a lot of care. but if she's always denying it whenever he brings it up, offering endless reassurances instead, even though those don't really work on him and he knows better... how is he supposed to fully trust her? to truly feel like he stands on level ground with her? so, maybe when he heard tsuno say that she loved him, that he's her little brother, it registered, but he didn't let himself take it to heart. 'maybe she's just saying that, like all these other things. saying what he wants to hear.' and, if she doesn't want his support, to rely on him, then maybe she wouldn't want anything else he has to offer either. wada likes to be of use to people he loves/trusts/is grateful to- so being denied a chance to helpful, being basically deemed in some way 'insufficient' for the task when he was 'taking' so much from tsuno, made him feel even more like a burden.

another possible reason: tsuno was an overwhelmingly kind person, helping others was her main purpose in life. she was a self-proclaimed superhero! so, why would wada believe that he was special to her just because she was kind and warm to him? that's just who she was. that was just a part of the job she took upon herself. so if he let himself be affectionate back, and it turned out that she was only being nice and helpful because that's who she is and not because she cares about him as a person specifically...hhhh...ouch. he's already been way too vulnerable with her. wada's parents hated him, he has been mistreated and unwanted his whole life. pure speculation now, but he might have been burned before, maybe in his foster families or elsewhere, when people made him feel that maybe that was finally it, until inevitably something went wrong. and so now he doesn't let himself get his hopes up without being very sure.

it kinda seems like i'm making wada out to be so distrusting of tsuno, which is not true. wada was audibly comfortable and happy whenever he was with her. wada knew tsuno wanted the best for him because of everything she did, and he was very grateful towards her. by now, i know that he loved her, he just wasn't expressing it very openly like she was.

it's just, the disconnect between tsuno's behaviour and reality, and her refusal to give wada a chance to support her created distance between them. all these factors were muddying the waters and causing him to let his walls down at a snail's pace.

the only time it was different was in the last moments they spend together, during chap 3's investigation. tsuno's manner was noticeably dimmer than usual. first, wada tried to cheer her up by talking about silly topics, like learning to play tuba. finally, he asked her if she was okay. and just because she was vulnerable, he finally had an opportunity to offer support- to be there for her in her grief. she didn't put up a front this time, she treated him as an equal, and was honest. and so, when she said she loved him, he said it back.

i think if tsuno had lived, and started being more real with wada, he might have began feeling more comfortable with expressing affection openly, but...i'm still glad she got to hear that from him, just once.

wada and isono.

isono is tricky, because they spend very little time being real friends, but how he acted towards her parasocially says a LOT about how he acts towards people he loves and admires. even though she was only one of multiple streamers wada watched and supported, she was still incredibly important to him. he had been watching her for long enough for a deep emotional connection to form regardless of whether he knew who she truly was. and, it was very real to him, even though it was one sided.

before the KG, she was his lifeline. although he had no one in his life, through her and other streamers, he felt genuinely cared for. this next part is going to be more speculative... there weren't many reasons for wada to get out of bed, but, whenever isono asked her viewers to take care of themselves, maybe he found it a bit more doable, like it was worth it. and he couldn't really let her down now after she said that, could he? through her, maybe...he found the strength to face another day. again, and again.

he had nothing to offer, but he needed to show his gratitude somehow. well...all he had was the meager amount of money he earned, so, he could support her and others with that. he didn't have a steady or large paycheck, and this money could really be put to a better use, something to truly improve his life, but that didn't matter- the streamers kept him going, they were the only ones he had, really. when they gave him so much, he had to give back, even if he was left with nothing.

presently, she's still the one wada has the deepest emotional connection with. so much so that even after tsuno dies, he still goes to talk primarily to isono's ghost. he feels like he can share everything with her without reservations, as if out of everyone, she was the one that truly cared for and understood him.

before she died, he didn't have many opportunities nor time to open up to her and show her affection, but still, they seemed like they were on the fast track to becoming great friends. isono loved to tease him and play harmless pranks, and she cared about him. they also had a few moments together as a comedic duo. and wada got to meet her, to talk to her, to get to truly know her... it must have been anxiety inducing but, in some way, also a dream come true.

isono's still the most important person to him. there's no comparison. and yet...

wada and hiroaki.

now this. this pair has been driving me crazy since chap 4. even though wada is not nearly as emotionally close with hiroaki as he still is with isono, the way he's acting with him is different than the way he's been with anyone else. after months of me being confused about how wada felt about tsuno cause he's been so closed off, with hiroaki i have zero doubts in my mind that he straight up adores him. it's bewildering.

physical affection. with hiroaki, wada initiated hugs on his own! i don't remember him ever being the one to do that with tsuno, she always had to beckon him towards her. but with hiroaki, he did that two times, completely unselfconsciously, despite hiroaki's protests, just because he wanted to. i didn't think much of it at first because what hiroaki did for him, giving him clothes + a haircut, was so significant that it warranted a big show of gratitude, but taking everything else into account? that was still unusual for wada.

wada's also been very verbally affectionate when the right opportunity presented itself. he's been calling hiroaki nagawa very consistently, but everyone's been calling him that so it's kinda nbd. however, last week's "we love you nagawa!" was like...what? i'm?? months ago i would never ever have guessed that wada would become hiroaki's biggest supporter after ojima. he was so happy at hiroaki making progress, he was almost giddy, and he said that like it was nothing! that sounded like something a fan would shout at their idol to cheer them on, so i had a thought that maybe wada's been feeling a little like hiroaki's something like his oshi. but then he said he was proud of him, and then repeated it again for emphasis. you don't say that to someone when you place yourself below them, you say that to an equal, (although i'm still holding onto the oshi thing). they're both flawed individuals who have difficulties with self-worth and expressing themselves, and who they want to be. hiroaki has very visible problems and weaknesses, he's been struggling hard with changing and growing as a person, and wada can heavily relate to that.

with hiroaki, he's not scared or reluctant of showing affection when he truly feels like it. he just does it. he loved tsuno, but he never was like that with her, so... i just wondered what made the difference.

wada and hiroaki didn't have much of a relationship for the first two chapters, at least on wada's side. he thought hiroaki was a loudmouth and a jerk, as did most other people. also he was lowkey scared of him due to the sketches hiroaki had made of him. that changed in [formentia] when wada watched hiroaki calm hama down from an anxiety attack. that was the first time he truly saw hiroaki's kind side. realizing that there was a lot more to him than meets the eye, he started calling him by his first name from that point on. another scene that was significant for them happened in [the other room], when ojima took wada away from okazaki and tsuno's fight and placed him in the room with hiroaki. despite his pretense of not being concerned, hiroaki offered him reassurance, and they had a nice conversation where they learned more about each other and bonded a little as fellow creatives.

this is a good place to mention that hiroaki also really likes wada, to the point where he doesn't bother denying it anymore. he had been hard at work on a gift for him for two weeks, and the conversations they had in chap 3 made him even more fond of him. so when wada came into the dining hall in [salvage], acting pissed off and shooting hiroaki down for no reason, when he had been nothing but demure and friendly with him so far? it hurt. really hurt, cause he didn't expect that from wada. hiroaki wasn't even being particularly hostile, he was just making a few dumb comments that wada normally wouldn't really react to. he was just being himself, which wada seemed to be accepting of... up until that point. so, in response to what was essentially a jab to the shoulder, hiroaki went straight for the jugular.

after that wada was back to being anxious around hiroaki, even becoming openly hostile and resentful towards him following tsuno's passing. and then it seemed like that was that- their tentative friendship was over... until [grieving process].

tsuno's death was the hardest moment wada's experienced thus far. after the trial, he was just crashing in his room. and here comes hiroaki, respecting wada's coping mechanism despite deriding it before, and making an effort to be vulnerable in front of him. and then... he gave him new custom clothes he had sewn himself, wanting nothing in return.

hiroaki put in hours upon hours of thought, effort and work in order to create something wonderful just for wada, which he didn't have to do at all. but he did, because he wanted to, because he felt wada was worth it. and then, he gave it to him in his darkest hour, to uplift him and give him strength. and so... wada now knows for sure that, no matter what, the person who reached out to him right then with the most thoughtful gesture he's experienced in his life, cannot be anything but kind at his core.

wada relaxes. his body feels lighter than it ever has. without a shred of selfconsciousness, he steps forward and gently wraps his arms around hiroaki. he feels safe. he doesn't pay hiroaki's words and tone any mind. he sees beyond them, and he understands now. he sees him.

that moment was beyond monumental. wada didn't have to do anything to "earn" this, or even ask for it. hiroaki just went completely out of his way, doing something completely selfless, and he didn't do that for anyone else but wada. this gesture was so big, so full of effort and time, so much kindness, specifically for him, it made wada lower down his walls in an instant.

i have no doubt that this made wada feel very special and loved.

it also helped that he definitely likes hiroaki as a person. he doesn't trust him 100%, he still prefers to speak his thoughts to empty air, but he can trust that hiroaki truly likes and cares about him, and that if he hurts him, it's never on purpose.

that. that one thing, hiroaki going above and beyond when he didn't have to, when it was completely unexpected, only for him, was what i think made wada trust him much faster than tsuno. categorizing these relationships, i would put hiroaki closer to isono than to her, which is???? remarkable to me when he knew isono for far longer. don't get me wrong- he LOVES tsuno. i'm not saying that hiroaki's closer to him than her or that wada holds him in higher regard. it's just...different. i'm holding off with the L word for now, even though he said it himself, but still. wada really really likes hiroaki a lot. cannot overstate that enough. despite me trying hard to understand why, it still astonishes me that wada wants to and feels like he can express his affection and support this openly and easily towards anyone. it's incredible. hiroaki didn't want any payment from him, so he just...offers his words and gestures instead. and hiroaki has been so protective of wada it's crystal clear to everyone too, like, tamba saying he dotes on him?? i think a lot of that protectiveness came from tsuno's death, but he's definitely truly fond of wada as a person too.

maybe if wada manages to willingly open up to hiroaki, then i will be able to say with certainty that he loves him.

for the end, i want to talk about [quick check] because it's been driving me bonkers. it's such a weird episode.

in it, wada comes across hiroaki, who checks up on him. and wada, eh...he doesn't really want to elaborate on his mental or overall state, but it seems like he still REALLY wants to have a low-stakes conversation with him. then he asks hiroaki a bunch of questions, which is amazing because he hardly ever asks anyone anything. he's trying really hard here. now this i know is a reach, but when he said like "omg i forgot, ken's waiting for me in my room, i just came here for water"....to me, it sounded a little like he wanted hiroaki to stop him?? to say something like "you're hanging out with hasezawa? that boring old nerd? no way, hang out here with me!" i have nothing to support that claim, it's just funny. but either way, what i'm sure of, just like his every other question, it was meant to act as a springboard for eliciting a sort of response from hiroaki that would get things rolling. buut, instead, all that wada gets are monosyllabic and dry answers...which is sad. at the end, he still waits a few seconds in silence to see whether hiroaki would engage him on his own, but nope. he just wasn't in the mood.

i might be misinterpreting it, but it would make sense with how much wada likes hiroaki. either way, it felt weird as hell... there's just something about it. if this episode turns out to be not in any way relevant to the plot later on i'll eat my hat.

[sunder-soul]

hiii cud u pl do a headcanon/oneshot where its a muggleborn reader who smhow ends up befriending the tom riddle who always seems to soft only to her, including tolerating her sassy attitude and its a study session together and they're bantering or summin? i think it wud be nice. thank you!

A/N: Girl I gotchu

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

Unsaid

Summary: By now you've got a pretty good idea why you're friends with Tom, but sometimes, when it comes up, you wonder why he's friends with you. [GN reader ★ no pronouns ★ Hufflepuff house (but ngl it doesn't really come up u just gotta trust me)] Word count: 1.2k

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

“I’m dropping out,” you announce, dumping your bag on the table and falling emphatically into the seat adjacent to Tom’s.

Tom, for his part, does not look up. His quill doesn’t even hesitate as he writes in a smooth, unbroken script across his parchment. Instead, he says: “Your bag is on my book.”

You shove it unenthusiastically to the side to reveal the open textbook he’s been working from, and then fix him with a pointed look. Tom is set up in the same little spot in the library as always, his bag at his feet and at least ten other books neatly stacked off to the side of the table. He looks (as Tom always looks) like the poster boy of adhering to the uniform dress code.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?” you say, slightly put out.

“I would not bother,” he says simply, leaning forward and dipping his quill in a small inkwell in front of him. “I’ve come to accept the inevitability of you telling me all sorts of things I don’t care to hear about, whether I ask about them or not.”

He resumes writing.

You kick his chair leg lightly and his quill skips sharply down the page, leaving a jolted line about an inch long off where he’d been writing the word putrescence.

This finally makes him look up, fixing you with a supremely irritated glare that’s made his whole face go tense.

You lean your elbows on the table and smile at him.

Tom’s jaw works slightly, and he takes a long breath. “What’s wrong?” he asks sarcastically.

“Well,” you say as he puts down his quill and bends to pick up his bag. “In Herbology this morning when we were cracking Wiggentree nuts, Lucy Grollen had this horrible allergic reaction and her feet swelled up so much that her shoes burst.”

“And this affects you how?” Tom drawls, diligently rubbing a Spellfriends eraser across his parchment.

You give him a scandalised look. “She’s my friend, Tom.”

He gives you a very dry look and then flips the eraser over to the purple side. “I hardly think you’d be tempted to leave the school because your friend is allergic to nuts.”

“Well she’s also my greenhouse partner,” you say dramatically, throwing yourself back in your seat, “and because she had to go to the hospital wing I had to finish the rest of the assignment alone­, and obviously by the end of class I didn’t have all our nuts cracked so Beery made me stay late to finish them. And that meant that I missed the sign up for the fieldtrip to the Menagerie of Mirabilia.”

Tom throws down the eraser and exhales in frustration. The ink remains unmoved. “You have been talking about that fieldtrip for six weeks,” he says in a clipped tone, pulling his wand from his bag. “And I have been telling you for six weeks that it was going to fill up quickly. Evanesco.”

The eraser shavings on his parchment vanish and leave both of you staring at the tenacious line of ink—which if anything, now just looks a little smudged.

His little comment about the whole six weeks thing has not left you feeling very sympathetic for him. “Wow. You have got to tell me what kind of ink you buy,” you say with a smirk as Tom tosses his wand onto the desk in frustration.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he says hotly, folding his arms and finally looking at you properly as he leans back in his chair. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What happened with the fieldtrip?” he prompts irritably.

“Oh – so as I’m sure you remember, I promised Madeline I’d go with her on the fieldtrip because she’s obsessed with magizoology at the moment, so then I had to tell her I wasn’t going, and she was so upset, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I felt so bad. So then I was really distracted in Transfiguration and of course Dumbledore notices and asks me to recite the whole definition of Amandation’s Command in front of everybody.” You sigh loudly. “So I can’t do it because I hadn't been paying attention, but then he points to the board and the definition is written right there and I just hadn’t noticed, and everyone laughed at me.”

You cross your arms too, feeling sorry for yourself. “The only solution is to drop out,” you reiterate moodily.

“This is one of your jokes,” says Tom delicately.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes well spotted.”

“You’ve ruined my assignment,” he says, nodding at it.

“You ruined your own assignment. With your callousness.”

Rather surprisingly, Tom snorts a laugh. “I would loathe to be my friend, to hear you describe it,” he says with suspicious ease as he extracts a new roll of parchment from his bag. “It begs the question as to why you persevere.”

“Very occasionally, you do something really nice,” you say, watching him with suspicion. Tom’s irritability rarely fades this quickly. “I just kind of zone out all the bits in-between where you’re weird and sarcastic.”

“Weird and sarcastic?” Tom repeats, lips curling. “Have you been listening to yourself since you sat down?”

“My life is ruined, and you’re worried about an assignment.”

“Your life is not ruined,” he says monotonously as he begins diligently copying over his work.

“I’m upset about this and all you care about is telling me that it’s not a big deal!”

Tom sighs curtly and looks up at you, leaning forward a bit and resting his forearms on the desk. “Your life is not ruined. Lucy Groggen is going to be fine, Wiggentree nut allergies are fairly common and the reaction doesn’t last more than an hour, the worst she’ll have to deal with is buying a new pair of shoes. Beery should never have made you complete a two-person task by yourself and it’s ridiculous that he kept you late because of his own poor class management. If Dumbledore was half the teacher that he claims to be, he might have noticed that you were upset about something and think to ask you about it, but his mistake is made all the more egregious given that he chose to single you out in front of the whole class with what sounds like a very silly little trick. And I wouldn’t worry about upsetting Madeline if I were you, because I signed you up for the fieldtrip.”

He resumes writing without another word. You stare at him, dumbfounded. A full ten seconds passes before you can rouse yourself to speak again.

“You signed me up for the fieldtrip?

Tom’s eyes remain level on his work—he’s writing at lightning speed like he’s trying to make up for the lost time. “You have been talking about it for six weeks. It seemed odd that you failed to show up.”

You look at your bag still lying dejectedly on the table in front of you and attempt to process the glowy, warm feeling spreading up through your chest. “Thanks,” you say blandly.

He just looks up at you with a glint in his eyes about halfway between wry and cynical.

“I feel bad about your assignment,” you announce.

Tom slowly smiles, this time very wryly indeed. “You have certainly changed your tune.”

You grab your bag and pull out your water bottle, placing it emphatically on the desk beside him.

Tom’s dark eyes flick from it to you, and he lifts a brow. “Is this supposed to mean something to me?”

“You have to wet a Spellfriends for it to work,” you mumble, folding your arms and resting forward on the desk.

He stares at you in a sort of frozen state of disbelief. “You mean you let me suffer through all of that for absolutely no reason?” he demands in half-subdued outrage.

“There was a reason!” you protest, smiling at him again. “It was funny.”

He blinks once, and then snatches the drink bottle off the desk, shaking his head. “You are extremely irritating,” he says icily, twisting the bottle open.

“Huh, sounds like a nightmare being my friend to hear you describe it,” you parrot back at him with a grin. “One wonders why you persevere, Tom.”

Tom pauses, and instead of the scathing look of irritation or perhaps a biting remark back, he just looks at you with an unplaceable expression like you’ve caught him off guard.

“What?” you frown, sitting up a little in concern.

Tom blinks slightly and then holds out his hand. “Pass me the Spellfriends,” he says colourlessly.

You arch a brow right back at him, and retrieve the eraser from where it’s been lying discarded for the last few minutes in front of you. “If you were wondering what I meant by the weird part in weird and sarcastic…” you say to him pointedly, placing it in his hand.

Tom silently erases the offending ink stain with a taut jaw and an irascible look darkening his eyes.

“Hey,” you say.

He ignores you entirely, sweeping the fresh shavings off his parchment and setting the eraser aside.

“Hey,” you repeat, reaching out and taking his arm.

Tom’s gaze immediately flashes to you and he goes entirely still.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. “For the field trip.”

He does not immediately reply. A second later his lips part like he’s going to say something, but they close like he thinks better of it. He blinks, and then pulls his arm from yours to reach for another book. “Are you intending on actually doing work this evening, or was this visit’s entire premise just to disrupt me?”

You roll your eyes, and reach for your bag again with a smile.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

[lavellaned]

In a previous post I mentioned that I heard Solas say this when my Lavellan got downed in battle and I managed to record it.

Anyways, this is what I was talking about when I found out that romanced companions can have different dialogue when Inky gets hurt.

[nat-without-a-g]

I probably shouldn’t find this funny, but as someone who was Terrified of learning to drive, I could never imagine being in TJ’s position. Your first time driving, you are the oldest of your peers, and you EXPLODE THE ENGINE? I would never sit behind the wheel again. There’d be no recovering. Even IF someone manages to force me to take lessons long enough to re-learn and get a license, I’d never want to sit in the driver’s seat again in my life, I’d burn the liscense.

Aaaand I just realized that I think TJ is the only dad we never see drive a vehicle in season 2 so he probably feels the same way I do.

[riacte]

so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it

[jascurka]

Suzuki "what do you plan to do with that filthy cat?" Toichiro

Me and @rxraltzna were talking about Toichiro ending up liking the kitty and silly shenanigans involving them. The name is Tabby!

[m00ngbin]

AHHHHHH CHAPTER 18!!!! CHAPTER 18 OF TFS!!!!!!

[4belphie]

i judge ppl based on how they perceive the events of chapter 4 and jamil viper in general

[aro-aizawa]

my want for a dog has always been constant. i adore dogs they're so good and so sweet. its always in the back of my mind, like an itch im never aware of until its pointed out to me and the itch almost burns w its fierocity.

i just,,, love dogs,,, sm

[bubaboos]

obsessed with how the animals from "flow" act like animals in general but they also know how to drive boats

[strangestcase]

bugs need their own Tumblr i think

0 notes

🐝​ sillywasp Follow

This humans house smells like flowers!! 🌸​🌼​🌷 yum!

🐝​ sillywasp Follow

Update: there are no flowers 😭​ I feel so robbed

🐝 sillywasp Follow

Update: they put me in a plastic cup ☹️​

43 tiny notes

🦗​ crashopper Follow

HELP NEEDED

my wife is mad at me :(

​🕷️ tinymeal Follow

Damn that's crazy. Have you tried talking to her.

🪰​​ d1ptteraaaaa Follow

Dude youre a black widow spider I dont think you're qualified to give love advice

🕷️ tinymeal Follow

Actually black widow females only eat the males in extremely stressful situations such as being kept in captivity, my wife and I live in a beautiful meadow and we're fine

🪲​ shiny-turd Follow

Then why is your blog full of vore

🕷️ tinymeal Follow

Can't a man have a fetish

94k tiny notes

🐜​ cottagecore-gate Follow

Milking my beloved aphids! 💖​💓​💖​💓​💖​💓​

🐞​ godslittlecow Follow

:3c

🐜​ cottagecore-gate Follow

dont you FUCKIGN dare

182 tiny notes

🕸️​ sneakyspidey Follow

*sees a mantis crawling overhead* Tsk... such a fool... *into the intercom* attack, mine simps

🦋​ bread-and-butter-fly Follow

Knowing OP is an ant mimic spider makes this a thousant times funnier

🦂​ pseudoabdomen Follow

why do you know so much about ants

🦋​ bread-and-butter-fly Follow

I tricked ants into raising me

🦟 bzz-bzz Follow

Isnt that a little exploitative?

🪳 thecrawlerrrrrr Follow

Ants love being exploited dont listen to the haters

🦟 bzz-bzz Follow

Youre a termite of course youd say that

🪳 thecrawlerrrrrr Follow

That's so fucking racist???

🐛 fluffyfellow Follow

lmao .You are both racist 🙄​

🦂​ pseudoabdomen Follow

IS THAT A LARVA??? ON BUGBLR???

🦋​ bread-and-butter-fly Follow

Relax it's my little brother. who's currently tricking ants into raising him

🕸️​ sneakyspidey Follow

​ What have you MANIACS done to my post

[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommended, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he finished and the opponent he defeated. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[spotaus]

I wrote almost 15,000 words in a fic that will never see the light of day. Very Me of me.

[strwberri-milk]

heyyy, could i request lads men forgetting readers birthday or anniversary? hurt comfort pls 🥹

You understand that Zayne's job is incredibly important and you would never hold it against him for forgetting these dates but you also know that you're still going to feel hurt no matter how much you rationalise it. You woke up that morning, knowing that today should have been a special day, that he remembered to book it off months in advance and the two of you would be together.

When you see him getting ready for work you feel your heart drop, watching silently as he puts together his lunch and grabs his things. He doesn't notice you're up, thinking that you're still asleep and you take that opportunity to run back into bed and feign sleep again. You'd feel awful if you let Zayne go to work worrying about missing something this important so you decide it'd be kinder to just let him go to work in peace.

It's not until he looks at his schedule after a complicated surgery right from the moment he got into work that he realises what day it is today. He feels awful about it, immediately trying to figure out what surgeries he could offload onto the others so he can try and get home to you as soon as possible. Thankfully, all the other staff are emphatic about his situation, assisting him in getting home as soon as he can.

Thankfully, he's usually prepared in advance when it comes to gifts so he doesn't have to buy you anything last minute. He does make it a point to go and grab you a bouquet as well as some little treats/snacks of all your favourite things. When he comes home he finds you curled up in bed, trying to cheer yourself up. He hates how he made you feel and silently slides in behind you, holding you tightly as he whispers that he's sorry for forgetting about you. He promises that he'll make it up to you another night when the two of you are free, promising an evening at a restaurant you love while he currently placates you with the food and flowers he brought.

Xavier was so exhausted that he accidentally slept through the plans that the two of you made. You didn't even know it happened until you reappeared from the bedroom, watching him sleep peacefully on the bed. You can't bring yourself to wake him, sighing as you move to tuck him in.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, sitting up with a jolt as he realises that he missed your date. He rushes to bed only to find you dead asleep, dried tear tracks on your face. The sight breaks his heart, and he immediately starts making plans to try and fix his mistake.

When you come home one evening you're a little panicked because you can't see anything. You reach around blindly, trying to find a light switch to turn on some light in the pitch black darkness. confused when you realise you can't move the switch. You're about to call for Xavier when he makes his presence known beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder and guiding you to the living room. You're expecting to run into your coffee table but you're confused when you don't, kneeling on the ground as he counts down after covering your eyes.

You hear the click of a button and he uncovers your eyes, showing you the room illuminated by seemingly hundreds of little stars. You look around in surprise by the assortment of fairy lights and stars, a little surprised as you realise you're also sat in front of a meal comprised of your favourite takeout.

He gives you a heartfelt apology, promising that he didn't do it on purpose and he's felt awful about it the entire time. He promises that he'll clean all of this up after the two of you are finished. He doesn't want you to take on any of the stress about this at all, pampering you in extra gifts as an additional apology.

Rafayel is amazing whenever it comes to remembering important dates. His life revolves around you so that's why you find it so odd that the day comes and goes with absolutely no fanfare. It's so out of character that you literally gaslight yourself into thinking that you had the dates mixed up, mentioning it to him offhandedly how it's so weird that you thought yesterday was your anniversary but maybe it actually wasn't. Your birthday is an entirely different scenario though - you just tell him that it's okay if he's too busy to do anything and hopefully you can do something next year.

Rafayel is devastated, internally falling to his knees and sobbing while externally all you see is him humming thoughtfully. Internally he's trying to figure out what the hell happened for him to have dropped the ball. He's so panicking, pulling out his phone to book reservations at the fanciest restaurant he can think of and paying an exorbitant amount of money to do so. He also has so many gifts for you that at this point, he could just pull from a pile he has hidden in his home, telling you that you can have this for now because the main event is coming at your dinner reservation.

It doesn't take you long for you to realise that he actually kinda did fuck up and totally forgot about it when you hear him talking to Thomas about how he can't take on any projects at all because he's busy trying to make sure you don't hate him for forgetting a major event. You end up asking him about it right then and there, basically confronting him about why he forgot. He promises you it wasn't intentional and that he just had so much fun preparing for the even that he fully forgot to actually carry through with his plans.

He ends up making it up to you in bed. You mope and pout and bury yourself underneath the luxurious sheets and refuses to let him in. He basically just lays on top of you, burying his face into your neck and begging for forgiveness. You refuse to give it to him that easily, deciding to make him mope and pout more. He holds you tightly, continuing to whisper sweet nothings as he tells you he'll make it up to you by giving you his credit card. You jokingly tell him that's more than enough before getting serious and telling him how upset you are. He swears it won't happen again and to his credit, it never does.

Sylus couldn't get out of a previous commitment, mentally noting that it was a special day and aiming to follow through with absolutely no problem. Unfortunately, his meeting dragged and by the time it finished he had even more things to do which left you standing in his bedroom, dressed extravagantly for a missed reservation.

You cry to yourself quietly in the room as you get yourself undressed for the evening. It doesn't really hit you until you're laying in bed in your pajamas, staring up at the ceiling as you tell yourself that he didn't mean to do it on purpose.

He comes in as you're crying, listening to your soft sniffles. When you go quiet in hopes of attempting to convince him you weren't just sobbing your eyes out he feels even worse, quickly putting two and two together. He realises what he just missed, looking back at his phone and seeing the reservation cancellation.

He immediately scoops you up in his arms. You try to resist him at first but falter when your body settles into his familiar warmth. He coos at you, whispering apologies into your ear. You want to tell him too little too late but you also know that he never would want to see you crying like this, especially not because of him.

He holds you all night, telling you that you can ask him for anything and he'll make it happen for you. He already does but the guilt of this weighs on him so heavily that he knows that no matter what stands in his way, he won't let it stop him from giving you everything that you want. He also makes sure that it doesn't happen again, wanting you to feel like you could always trust him. If he lost your trust on top of that he'd never forgive himself, telling you that you're everything to him.