#but the boys just wanted to cuddle

[pangur-and-grim]

Pangur scratched the baby (shallow, not serious) and at this point I'm all for it. he's too rambunctious about pouncing on her to play. 100% against corporal punishment for humans, but amongst cats..... well, young man, perhaps you should experience the consequences of your actions >:( you've been alive for a few months now, grow up. get a job.

[fairsweetlonging]

new idea: shen yuan transmigrates into a pidw version with abo dynamics, but he doesn't know about it.

he knows what abo is, but it's so far removed from his expectations that it simply doesn't cross his mind at all. with that, cang qiong is a respectable, upstanding sect, so there is no growling, claiming, scent pushing or primal instinct stuff going on. people also don't mention it, as it's simply not relevant most of the time, and is considered rude to discuss unprompted.

shen qingqiu, of course, is an omega (the characters who make the best omegas are the ones who would hate it the most), but he has suppressed it with his qi for most of his life because he doesn't want to be seen as weak. the other peak lords assume he's a beta.

now, i'm not a traditional abo dynamic fan, but, there is something very appealing to me about the nesting and scenting aspect of it.

it starts out slow and painfully oblivious, with shen yuan assuming cultivators must have a really good sense of smell, and it's simply book logic that every character seems to have a signature scent. all those romance novels always mention characters smelling of pine and flowers and scotch and leather, so this isn't a foreign concept. liu qingge, for instance, is the bai zhan war god, girls fall for him left and right, it's only natural he smells of musk and deep woodsy notes, like the earth after it rains. right?

besides that, shen yuan has always been a homebody who loves his creature comforts, so him getting extra blankets and pillows and soft fabrics for his bed to curl up in isn't odd at all. or him collecting soft pretty things. shen qingqiu already has fans and night pearls and hair ribbons and silky clothes, so nothing changes.

then without-a-cure hits.

the poison breaks down the suppressors that the original shen qingqiu put in place, and his body starts restoring the balance. this worsens the cravings, and sets off his omega instincts.

he gathers more blankets, but it doesn't fill the need, like there's something missing. then liu qingge forgets his outer robe in his house after a meridian cleansing to deal with an emergency, and that robe ends up in his bed. he tries to reason it's a comfort thing—he wore his dad's sweater when he was young and had nightmares, and liu qingge does smell very nice, so is it really that strange that he holds it at night and presses his face against the collar where the scent is the strongest to soothe himself?

his own scent starts to develop as well, much stronger than the mild, watery green tea flavor from before, and people notice.

thing is, though, that there are many formalities and rules of conduct around omegas, one of which is not to bring up their status in any improper or unbidden way. so even though the alpha lords now notice a very distinct omega scent coming off their shixiong, they can't mention it out of societal pressure. so, they don't.

shen yuan still doesn't notice a thing.

the first time liu qingge smells it is during their bi-weekly cleansing session, when shen qingqiu leans in and liu qingge gets a mouthful of green tea, bamboo and honeyed jasmine, soft and sweet and pleased and so very content it sets off his alpha brain and he has to rein himself in before he starts releasing his own pheromones like some inexperienced teenager—

he's only just grown used to their amity and their habit of sharing tea and cakes after the cleansing, but now shen qingqiu is sitting there smiling at him and smelling like—like liu qingge is spoiling him and, making him feel safe...

he doesn't bring it up, downs his tea, and leaves.

meanwhile shen qingqiu keeps happily nesting away, filling his bed with all kinds of soft fabrics, some clothes of other people that he's trying really hard not to think about. everything is going well, binghe just turned sixteen and the girls are calling him an 'alpha', so his little bun is growing well into his protagonist charms! yue qingyuan comes by more often, acting a little strange but shen qingqiu is used to that by now. he looks very bashful offering him a ribbon of his, a pretty silver one that smells of incense and ozone, and shen qingqiu happily accepts it.

one time binghe comes back bruised and scuffed from a fight with bai zhan disciples, and shen qingqiu tsks at the strange smells on him, do those brutes ever bathe?? he rubs his hands over binghe's sleeves to try and get some of it off, and his poor bun must still be in shock because he stares wide-eyed at his shizun. he must also be getting forgetful because shen qingqiu finds that same robe still unwashed a week later in binghe's bedroom.

he also loves it when people brush or play with his hair, it's his favorite part of the evening when binghe helps him take down his hair for the night. the combs feel so nice on his scalp, if he could purr he would! (binghe's heart sobs quietly behind him, in complete disbelief his master is purring at him).

his icy, lofty demeanor has all but shattered, because now every time he tries to act aloof, like when yue qingyuan gives him a present or liu qingge shows up on his doorstep, his sweet, pleased scent betrays him.

the opposite is true, as well, when without-a-cure flares up and he's in pain and his scent goes sour and distressed, even when he's waving everyone off saying he's fine. the entire house smells of burnt tea leaves and ash after a nightmare, and shen qingqiu is very confused when liu qingge comes to pick him up for a meeting but then refuses to leave.

anyway he doesn't find out until after the conference when airplane tells him to keep his acrid scent under control, his house is starting to stink.

[somegrumpynerd]

I like the idea that Cross realised Killer was touchstarved (he didn't have the words for it but he noticed how much Killer would settle down from it) and started giving him very small basic affection. Pat on the back, hand on the shoulder, maybe a quick friendly hug, all things he probably learned through royal guard training and thinks of as normal friend/coworker stuff.

But as they both got more comfortable in the routine of it, Killer started instigating touches and he was not shy about it (like not just leaning into Cross's side during movie night, he looks like he's trying to get into Cross's jacket with him)

And that this more intense affection made Cross realise he might also be just a little bit touchstarved

Bonus:

[rosie-dear-rosie]

Literally can’t stop thinking about about how Butcher’s going to handle it when he returns to the boys and finds out what happened to Hughie (both in terms of Tek-Knight and his dad) and how fucking devastated he’ll be that he wasn’t there to help, to protect his canary. After dealing with the powerless feeling of seeing his wife assaulted by a supe for years then to have it happen again to Hughie, someone he’s always felt obligated to protect. Blaming himself, thinking about how Hughie wouldn’t be in this mess, wouldn’t have had to euthanize his own father, if Butcher hadn’t dragged him into this in the first place.

Meanwhile Hughie couldn’t care less about what Butcher could or couldn’t have done. All he cares about is the fact that Butcher is with him now.

[yourleastfavoritesimp]

sometimes I just remember how bad schlatt seems to be with scary stuff. Like he's not the worst ever but mann (・ε・｀ ) you would be the one holding him tight with a scary movie. You would be kissing him and rolling your eyes as he is freaked out. I mean yeah he's a big man he can deal with it but...it's not bad to have someone to comfort him ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

[boy-kisser-in-theory]

want to sit on his lap against his chest while he plays video games, just laying my head on his shoulder, maybe playing with the hair by his ears idk

[frozenhi-chews]

Stop normalizing the grind and normalize this instead

[ninyard]

Hellooo i saw that you were asking for asks (that sounds funny) and I wanna know some of your hcs on Kevin and Allison being besties/ kevjean relationship

This is my chance to finally share some Allison/Kevin hcs so I'm gonna seize this opportunity with both hands and give you this total MESS of a brain dump

- Allison is the only fox that doesn't make fun of Kevin's eating habits. Kevin KNOWS his relationship with food is fucked up because of the nest and Allison knows it too, so she refuses to make bets or make fun of the way that he eats. Kevin only realised because she once tried to quietly tell Nicky to knock it off when he was pushing Kevin to have dessert or making fun of what he'd decided to have instead.

- Kevin also knows not to talk about the numbers or macros in front of her, too. They have a weird unspoken mutual respect RE: food and they both appreciate each others efforts on that front without ever actually mentioning it. they also have a gesture for each other that's code for "i want a snack do you have anything" and they'll throw each other protein bars if they're out/on a long bus journey etc.

- they are the BEST drinking buddies. Whenever the team starts drinking/partying/clubbing more together post-TKM, they are literally CHILDREN when they're drunk together. Kevin gets tired of the monsters being boring when they go out and there's only so much dancing he can do with just Nicky and Aaron alone. So Allison pulls him up to the bar one night to do a tequila shot, and they literally have the most unexpectedly fun night ever. Kevin loosens up a whole lot without the threat of Riko etc post tkm, and when I tell you he is such a fun drunk. now he doesn't really drink THAT much during the season but off-season? oh he's a party animal. I could write thousands of words about him and Allison getting drunk together and becoming literal best friends as soon as they have a drop of alcohol in their systems but here's some things I think they've done drunk

stole a shopping cart and sat in it as they pushed each other down the road in it (and fallen out of it and laughed so fucking hard) ((but were bruised up as fuck the next day because of it)

he's sat her on his shoulders - while dan sits on matt's - as the two girls try to push the other one off

he's really easily convinced to do things by her. another shot? sure. and another shot IMMEDIATELY after that? alrighty! karaoke? well, okay. jockeyback? stealing traffic cones? pulling pranks and fucking with the other foxes? acting like actual teenagers? okidokie!

she's probably the only person in the world who has successfully convinced kevin day to sing

he holds back her hair if she has to puke

she convinced him to let her do his makeup once. full glam. like a serious look, fully beat, full coverage look. there's a picture out there somewhere of it that she saves for blackmail.

fucked. make out sometimes. strip poker. they dance together :)

he never lets her walk alone anywhere when she's drunk. if she can't find one of the girls to accompany her to the bathroom at a party she'll take him.

she's taught him full dance routines

she was joking that there's no way the raven warmups could be that different to theirs, and bet him that she'd be able to do them without breaking a sweat (he won)

they've both ugly drunk cried in front of each other (but they never talk about that sober)

she's pretty light so he's bench pressed her before

- They know each others drink orders/favourite shots

- if Allison is out, say she's with her friends and not with the foxes, and she has to wait alone for a taxi or walk somewhere alone, she'll call him and he'll stay on the phone with her until she's safe

- They make fun of each other and bully each other like there's no tomorrow (affectionate). the whole "Allison hates Kevin" thing WAS true for a while, but once they get closer, she just pretends to hate him. he's like an annoying brother to her

- Allison is really easily frightened, and Kevin thinks it's funny to scare her. she's never safe walking around a corner or into a room if Kevin is there and in a good mood.

- they're not BEST FRIENDS. like they're not in each others pocket all the time and laughing and joking ALL THE TIME but she can read him like a book. she knows when he's having an off day, or thinking about something too much.

- She also knows when he's being serious and when not to joke around. She knows when he doesn't want cheering up or to joke about something and knows when to back off. The same with him - he knows when she's having a mood that requires being cheered up, or a mood that requires him to leave her the fuck alone.

- He's a big reason why she puts a whole lot more of herself into Exy post tkm. She's always been invested, but once they talk more, and they consider each other friends, she listens to him talking about Exy and it really clicks for her. his dedication. and also how fucking talented he really is. She doesn't do the night training with him but they'll occasionally go to the gym together or start practice a half an hour early to run some basic raven drills.

- They're iconic when they get together to do press after games. they bounce off each other like nothing else. they're just so funny. and he's also like andy murray in that he will ALWAYS defend her, dan, and renee's talent if interviewers start to focus more on him instead of the girls. he'll step in if an interviewer says something shitty or misogynistic. she LOVES directing objectifying and misogynistic questions his way.

- She calls him a bitch and makes fun of him for being a nepo baby. He calls her an asshole and makes fun of her for being a rich kid.

- Have gone to banquets as each others date.

that's just a few random thoughts off the top of my head but yes. Allison and Kevin. Literally the only Two Pretty Best Friends ever to exist.

[ghoulspaw]

Was re-reading Haku's homescreen lines (posted by @/danieyells), and this idle one got me giggling again jfjdj

Haku: yes i might look lazy but mind u i have WORK to do☝️.. anyways, nap time!

😭😭😭😭 idgaf king! hes just so funny i want him!!!!

Its the fact he's like "my crush friend isn't around.. then there's no point in doing anything ig" with a pile of tasks waiting for him

[frogmanfae]

Anthony Lockwood x GN! Reader- You Too? (FLUFF with a little bit of angst)

Summary: Anthony can't sleep at night. You can't sleep at night. Most of the time you avoid running into each other, but one fateful night of tears in the basement leads to an awkward bedroom experience.

A/n: this one is quite a bit longer than my other ones, about 4,000 words. I think it came out pretty well. Please don't make this dirty, I beg of you. It really is just awkwardness that happens to occur in a bed it isn't anything spicy.

Reader pov

There are nights where I can't bear to be in my room. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I need a break from such mundane consistency. I just need to see something other than those walls.

On these nights, I usually make myself some tea and go to the basement. I'd much rather sit in the library, but Lockwood is in there most nights. Nobody ever comes down to the basement. I'm alone with only my thoughts and my tea.

I don't quite understand why my room has this effect on me sometimes. When my parents died, my room was my safe haven. My refuge. My sanctuary. So now that I'm in a new environment, it makes little sense to me that it can feel more like solitary confinement. It makes even less sense that I'm soothed by the concrete and dust of the basement.

Tonight is one of those nights. It's probably three in the morning as I sit on the floor leaned against the wall, sipping my tea. I'm a listener, like Lucy (though not nearly as powerful) so a moment of silence is rare, but extremely calming. To use my power and hear nothing is bliss.

I've only about half way finished my tea when someone comes down the stairs, clearly laser focused on something. We're in the middle of a big case, so that's probably it. I had expected it to be George doing some late research or maybe Lucy to see if she can listen to any of the sources down here and get a lead.

To my surprise, it's the other one.

I watch silently as Lockwood pulls out several files and spreads them out on a table. He seems extra stiff, like something is really bothering him. He grumbles something in frustration before collecting the files and putting them back in the cabinet.

He walks over to my wall and sits down a couple feet away. From what I can tell, he hasn't noticed me.

I'm right here, isn't your talent supposed to be sight?

I simply continue sipping on my tea, remaining quiet and looking forward to not disturb him, though he really is an idiot if he doesn't know I'm here.

I thought for a moment that he actually did see me, but he needed space and realized I needed the same so he just didn't acknowledge it. I was certain on this until I heard him crying.

I look over at him. He's still wearing dress pants and his button up and tie. He's still got on his dress shoes. However, his hair was a mess and his hands were currently tangled in the back locks, only making it worse. His face was buried in his knees. I swear I heard a tear drop on to the floor. He was quietly sobbing, clearly trying to not alert anyone but still in pain. Emotional pain, anyhow.

I debate what I should do for a moment. I don't want to startle him, and honestly he seems like he needs this. I decide to just keep drinking my tea and not look at him. I'll let him get it all out before I make my presence known.

It lasts longer than I thought. Perhaps ten minutes? I'm not the best with comprehending passage of time but that seems right enough. Regardless of the details, it was a long time to sit here holding my breath and listening to his suffering.

Finally, he sniffs and wipes his eyes. I'm still looking straight ahead holding my cup, only seeing him out of my peripheral vision. He runs his hands back and forth over his hair a few times. I close my eyes.

"JESUS FUCKI-"

I snap my head towards Lockwood. He's now on his back with his legs closest to me, propped up on one arm and looking at me as if I'm a ghost. I can properly see his face now. His dark circles seem more prominent than usual and his eyes are red and puffy. His nose is red. His cheeks are discolored. He looks abnormally pale. His lashes have been thickened and darkened by his tears. It was truly a sight.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?"

"I was here before you."

"AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING? YOU SAW ALL OF THAT?"

"Shhh you'll wake up the others, we both know how lightly George sleeps while we're in the midst of a case. Anyhow, you seemed like you needed it. I didn't want to interrupt. It's not like I watched you."

"But... You saw it all. You heard everything!"

"Lockwood, I hope you realize I think no less of you."

"What?"

"I- oh gosh you can't be comfortable like that. Sit up, why don't you?" He hesitantly pushes himself up and leans against the wall again. "I'm worried about you."

"Theres no need to be-"

"Bullshit. You can't keep concealing your emotions like this. It's okay to be overwhelmed or stressed or overall upset for any reason. You always act like everything is wonderful but it's not. I don't know if it ever has been."

He looks down. "(Y/n)... It's not that easy-"

"I never said anything about it being easy. Of course it's hard. I can't even imagine how you feel owning an agency so young, having all that pressure on your shoulders. It's terrifying to be vulnerable."

"Is that why you're in the basement in the early hours of the morning, drinking herbal tea?"

I hum. "I just couldn't sleep, and I like herbal tea."

"Now who's bullshitting?" The corners of his mouth tug up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You much prefer green. Herbal simply calms you down. You only ever drink herbal tea when you're upset."

"How..."

"I notice things, (y/n). Lots of things. Don't think I don't hear the kettle during the midnight hours at least three times a week. The peculiar thing is I never hear anyone go back up the stairs and whenever I go into the kitchen, it's empty."

I look down. How'd he make this about me so quickly?

"Tell me, (y/n), do you spend your nights in the basement often?"

"... No. Only when I can't sleep."

"So... Often." He nods. "Why don't you stay in the library? It's much more inviting."

"I don't want to bother you. That's where you are most nights."

"You could never bother me."

"Stop, you were the one crying a few moments ago, this isn't about me."

He sighs. "It was worth a shot."

"Now, what's bothering you?"

"Uh... Nothing, really."

"Lockwood."

"It's just the case, that's all."

"That's a lie and we both know it."

He let's out a noise of exasperation. "Fine, you really want to know? It's my parents."

"Your parents?" I ask softly as I scoot closer to him.

He nods. "They died when I was six years old. You really have no idea what it's like to have such a great life until suddenly you don't and it all gets ripped away from you without warning and nobody will take you in so you have to fend for yourself before your age even reaches double digits."

"Actually... I think I can relate more than you realize."

"How can you possibly relate?" He almost sounds angry. I don't blame him, I never told him my story. I kept it to myself even after living with other people all this time. I moved here with a purpose, to start new. Therefore, my past never happened according to anyone else. I was another person then. I've left all of that behind, taking only the nightmares and memories with me.

"My parents were murdered when I was eight." I look straight ahead. "Nobody really wants to adopt a kid who's just began to really get strong in their talent for hearing brutal murders and death. It freaks adults out. So I was on my own until I found you guys."

His expression softens. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry, I... Wait, you were fourteen when you applied. That's six years."

"It was hard but I managed. The whole ghost hunting agent thing isn't so bad. Once you've been forced to watch your parents get nothing short of quartered right in front of your sensitive, innocent eyes, you can watch anyone else get ghost touched no big deal."

"I'm sorry, quartered?" His eyes are wide.

"Yeah, are you familiar with the French Revolution?"

"I'm familiar enough to hope you were talking about a different type of quartering."

I shook my head. "It was intense. I still think of it every time I close my eyes."

"I can't even imagine..."

"I didn't tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I only wanted you to know I'll understand. You aren't as alone as you believe."

He nods slowly. "I see... Thank you... For sharing, I mean."

"Of course. So now that you know I can at least sort of understand what you're feeling, what's going on with you?"

He sighs. "I don't know... Sometimes I just..."

"Miss them?"

"... Yeah." He nods. "Yeah I miss them a lot. I miss them all the time but sometimes when I think about it it's not so bad, it's let me do what I've done, accomplish all of this. Other times..."

"It's mentally suffocating."

"Mentally suffocating... Yeah that's a good word for it. Like it's put a sheet over your brain to prevent it from getting oxygen, but you can still physically breathe with your lungs for the most part."

I nod. "Yeah, it's frightening. George has a book on it he was telling me about some time."

"George knows you feel like this sometimes?"

"No, but we often discuss our readings, trade books, recommend authors or titles... Things of the sort. I haven't told anyone about my past. Except you of course."

"Well aren't I special," he flashes one of his signature Lockwood smiles.

I roll my eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, your ego is already so inflated I fear it might burst."

"Oh haha you love my charisma."

"Is that what we're calling it?" I smile at him.

He laughs. Not his public press laugh, but a true, genuine laugh. One that I've never heard from him before. It makes me feel a little bit warmer with emotion.

"You know, most nights I stay awake in the library simply because I can't stand the solitude of my room."

"What?"

"I know, it's silly-"

"No, not at all! I come down here for the same reason!"

"You do?" He raises his eyebrows, sounding surprised. "I thought you just worried over cases or, well now I thought you thought about your past but-"

"No, it's like..." I think for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Like the silence is too loud and the space is too big for just me, even though my bed hardly fits properly."

"Exactly! Like I don't have anything to focus on except for the sensory deprivation and my anxieties."

"Yes! Oh my goodness I can't believe you get it!"

"I thought I was the only one!" He laughs again, different this time. It sounds almost relieved. "Say... Maybe we could help each other out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Help each other out? How so?"

"Well, feel free to decline if you want and we'll never speak of this proposal again, but perhaps we could try spending the night in the same room."

"But..." I get that warm feeling again, more intense this time. "Each room only has one bed..."

"Yes well..." Despite the horrid lighting of the basement, I could faintly see a light pink tint spanning across his nose and blotching on other, seemingly random, spots on his face. "Like I said I understand if you decline and if that is your choice we can pretend I never said anything... However... I feel it may be beneficial to the both of us to have a... companion in the lonely, deafeningly silent hours of the night. If it works, splendid we can finally get some proper sleep. If it doesn't, we each return to our respective seperate rooms and carry on as if nothing ever happened."

"..." I nod slowly. "Okay."

"Ah- really?" He turns to face me more. "In all honesty I thought you would detest the idea."

"Do you still want-"

"Yes! I mean," he clears his throat, "uh... Yeah, the offer still stands."

"Perfect."

"Well then." He stands up and offers me his hand. "Shall we?"

"Oh you mean like right now! Alright then." I take his hand and he pulls me up. He chuckles and leads me to his room.

"I uh... I'll go take this cup back to the kitchen and let you get changed and what not."

"Oh- right." He pushes back some of his hair. "I'll only be a minute or two."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for whenever you're ready."

He smiles at me as he steps back into his room and closes the door. I swiftly make my way to the kitchen and set my cup in the sink, resolving to wash it in the morning, and return in under a minute.

I wait outside for only about thirty seconds longer before Lockwood opens the door again.

"Sorry I took so long."

"Long? Lockwood that was- wait."

"What? Is something the matter?" He takes his hand off of the door handle and peeks his head out around the corner.

"No, just... You're wearing a shirt."

"Oh, well..." He stepped aside, inviting me in, and closed the door behind me "Yes in fact I am. What about it?"

"Lockwood you've never worn a shirt to bed in all the time I've been here. It's like an unspoken principle in the house; you don't wear shirts to bed and George doesn't wear trousers."

"I didn't realize it was such a disruption of order-"

"Well- that's not what I'm saying." I sigh. I've always struggled with putting things into the right words. "Obviously it's fine if you wear a shirt to bed, I just... I'm just wondering why all of a sudden?"

"Well... I don't know. I suppose I thought you may be a bit uncomfortable sharing a bed with me when I've no shirt on." He looked down, those pink splotches returning to his face. "After all, this is only an arrangement of convenience and practicality. It's not like were... uh... going out... or anything..."

"Ah, right..." I can feel myself getting flustered. "Well... I don't mind, really. The whole point is to feel more comfortable going to sleep so if you feel more comfortable with no shirt on, honestly it doesn't make any difference to me."

"... Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, really." I smile reassuringly. "Whatever makes you fall asleep best."

He hesitates. "Well, if you're absolutely positive-"

"Lockwood, I promise you."

He hums lowly. "Alright then. But if you change your mind just tell me and I'll put it back on straight away, I swear-"

"Lockwood!"

"Alright, okay! If you're sure-"

"I'm sure."

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, a smile gracing his face. It isn't one of his signature smiles, it's real, quite boyish actually. He seems so young. Sometimes I forget how young we really are, but then again, all youth since The Problem has forgotten how young they really are.

I try my best to appear to be disinterested and looking away as he removes his shirt and folds it, neatly placing it in the bottom right drawer of his dresser. Of course, I watch the whole thing unfold. I'm only trying to appear as if I'm not.

"Alright, well..." He awkwardly rubs his arm. I've never seen him seem so nervous before. "I suppose now is when we uh... get into bed, then..."

"Yes it does seem like that happens now..." I slowly nod.

"Well uhm... After you." He gestures toward the bed.

"Oh no, please, it's your bed, you go ahead first." I wave my hands.

"No no I insist. You're my... guest? Is that the appropriate term for this? What do we call this?" He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry, I'm a bit..."

"Nervous?"

"To say the least."

We both laugh a little bit. There really was no need for it to be so nerve wrecking. We had already agreed that if it doesn't go well we pretend nothing happened. Nobody needs to know.

"Here, why don't we just both get in at the same time?" I offer.

"Yes! Yes, that sounds like a good idea." He goes to the side of the bed opposite of me.

It's still extremely tense as the both of us climb in under the covers. There's plenty of space in between us. I'm nearly hanging off the edge, no doubt Lockwood is as well.

Fuck it.

I move onto the bed more so I'm a comfortable ways on. "Lockwood?"

"Yes?"

"Can I be frank for a moment?"

"Well I think I'd prefer you to stay (y/n) but I suppose whatever makes you happy-"

"Oh shut up." He laughs one of those real laughs again. I nearly melt.

"What would you like to talk about?"

I take a deep breath, admittedly, his joke (however stupid) managed to cut some of the tension. "This isn't going to work unless we get over ourselves and actually share the bed. Like real sharing."

He pauses. "You're right. The question is, how far are we going?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... Well..." He huffs. "If we're being frank-"

"I prefer Anthony, but I suppose-"

"Oh shut up, it really isn't funny." Despite his words, he was smiling again. "I see your point now."

"Well, what is it you were going to say, Frank?"

"Please don't." He laughs, making me smile more.

"I'm listening."

He inhales deeply. "Well, how far are we going as in... Are we simply laying next to one another and trying to go to sleep or... to be blunt, are we spooning?"

I nearly chocked on my own saliva. Blunt was certainly one way to say it.

"Well... Whatever makes you comfortable. Honestly I think it would work best if we... Uh... Did the latter, but I don't want to make you-"

"I was actually hoping you'd say that-"

He sighs, sounding almost... Relieved?"

"Really?"

"Yes, I-" he rolls over, bringing us from being over a foot apart to our noses now almost touching. "Goodness you are much closer than I thought-"

"Sorry, I-" I start to move back, but he puts his hand on my waist, gently stopping me.

"No no I uh... Well if we're going to uh... You know, uhm, we're going to have to be close anyway so..."

"Right, yeah..."

He softly pulls me closer using his hand that still rests on my waist. I move towards him until my hands are pressed to his chest and our legs are touching under the covers. His face is splotchy red again, the most intense I've ever seen it, though I can't imagine how flustered I must appear.

"Uhm... May I?" He starts to wrap his leg around mine.

"Ah..." I nod, unable to trust my voice.

And so now we lay here, about two seconds away from being puddles of awkwardness and mild embarrassment. He's warm. Very warm. It's kind of nice being this close to him.

I've always found him attractive since the moment I saw him. He is, objectively, a good looking guy.

Then I got to know him a little bit. He and I would often bicker and pester one another, some times seemingly more serious than others, but for the most part it was all in jest. Making jabs at each other is just what we do.

I think I fell for him more and more over my time here, but tonight I saw a new side of him. A side that really pushed me over the edge of having a bit of a crush on him to trying to stop myself from kissing him at any given moment.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He brings a hand up to my forehead. "You're awful warm and you look... Distressed."

"Anthony?"

His gaze softened. I don't think anyone has called him that in... well who knows how long? Too long. "Yes? Is something the matter?"

"No I just..." I make eye contact with him, effectively rendering myself speechless.

He inches closer. "Are you sure? This is quite the... intimate position... I wouldn't want to make you..."

By this time, our noses are back to almost touching, but even closer than before. He tilts his head just enough to avoid colliding them.

"Make me what? Uncomfortable?" I glance down at his lips, quickly looking back to his eyes to avoid suspicion. "Anthony, you could never-"

He kisses me.

Holy shit.

Anthony Lockwood is kissing me.

I'm in Anthony Lockwood's bed.

I'm kissing Anthony Lockwood!

"I'm sorry-" he pulls back. "Oh no... I shouldn't have done that... Shit... Oh shit I'm so sorry-"

I kiss him again. "Shut up, will you? I just had a life altering moment here and I'm trying to enjoy it."

"You- you liked it?"

"Of course I did. Anthony, I've liked you since... Well I suppose there wasn't a single moment I could pick out but-"

"I love it when you call me that."

I smile. "Call you what? Anthony? Well that is your name."

"It hasn't been used in years. Not by itself, anyhow. It sounds nice coming from your lips."

"I like your lips." It takes a moment to register what I just said. "Wait, I didn't mean-"

"You like kissing me~" He teases me, putting on his Lockwood Smile.

"Oh shut up!" I put my head on his chest to hide my face. "Of course I do..."

"Well... You know what I would like more than just kissing you?" He carefully lifts my head up with two fingers under my chin.

"Hm?"

He hesitates for a moment. "I'd like to be your boyfriend."

"What? Really?"

"If you'll have me, that is-"

"Of course I'll have you, you prick!" I lightly punch his chest. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"

He shakes his head. "I can't say I do."

"Well there wasn't a specific time but I think I started to think about it more and more around the time we were working the Brentic case."

"The B- (y/n) that was at least a year and a half ago."

"I'm well aware."

"... Huh."

"What?"

"I think I've known since the Dalkins case."

"Lockwood, that was long before the Brentic case-"

"It seems my charm worked then."

"Oh shut up! Go to sleep!"

He laughs a bit. "So... Are we...?"

"... I think we are..."

"Wonderful! Splendid! Perfect! Grand! Fanta-"

I laugh. "Anthony shut up!"

He goes quiet, but the smile remains on his face. "Do we tell the others?"

"... Nah. It's funnier if we just let them figure it out. But we don't necessarily have to hide it either."

He nods. "It'll take all my self control to not shout it from the rooftops."

"Oh hush." I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Get some sleep, lover boy. You clearly need it."

He kisses me once more, shorter this time, before closing his eyes and pulling me closer to his chest. He falls asleep surprisingly quickly, his breaths going even and his mouth falling slightly agape in no time at all.

I watch him for a moment. Once again, he really shows his age for only a second. I push some of his hair away from his face and place a kiss on his forehead, causing him to stir just a bit.

Before I know it, my eyelids feel heavy. It becomes increasingly harder to keep them open, to stay awake. Soon enough, I'm drifting into sleep with pleasant dreams to greet me and Lockwood by my side.

How lucky am I?

[jubilantmedusa]

Untitled Zukka Hurt/Comfort Ficlet #2

“It was good of you to bring him here,” Piandao said.

They were gathered in his library, dried and warmed and fed after their long flight through a misting sky. Night had fallen, the world lit now by torches and candles, casting strange shadows on their drawn faces.

Sokka’s arms felt empty. He had held Zuko through the flight as Zuko had shivered and shivered.

“Zuko’s inner flame has gone out.” Piandao’s voice was even, but the pinch of his mouth betrayed upset. “Not many people know the old ways, the healing of the Firebenders. But Zuko’s uncle does. I have the means to contact Iroh. There is hope yet.”

The silence in the room didn’t feel hopeful. “I thought the ‘inner flame’ thing was a metaphor,” Sokka said, bursting it.

“It’s more spiritual than physical, but it is very real,” Piandao explained. “Our bodies and spirits are entwined. Spiritual damage often manifests physically.”

“Like when you’re upset so you have nightmares,” Aang said.

Piandao gave a curt nod. “Similar,” he said. “This is more severe.”

“It still doesn’t make sense,” Sokka said. His stomach was churning. “Firebenders have an extra spirit part? And if that part is damaged they just waste away?”

That’s what’d been happening ever since Zuko’d thrown himself in front of Aang, taking an arrow laced with something sinister. A gift from Azula by way of the assassins that had been perusing them since they left the Western Air Temple.

At first Zuko’d been hyped up, unable to stop moving for hours and hours. When he crashed, Sokka thought it might actually be a good thing. Get some sleep. Be better in the morning.

But Zuko’d woken up disoriented, confused. And every time he’d woken since there was less of him.

He was growing colder. Sokka didn’t know what that meant. All he knew was that his arms were itching with emptiness.

“We all have inner flames of a sort,” Piandao said. His turned towards Sokka. “Even you and I. But Firebending… to create an element from the spirit’s own energy…” He swirled his hand, then winced, shaking his head. “Iroh will explain when he arrives.”

“When will that be?” Toph asked, leaning forward, harsh torchlight light shining directly in her sightless eyes. “Is he far away?”

“Iroh’s been in hiding since he escaped from Caldera, but I can reach him,” Piandao said, pointedly not answering the question. So they had where Iroh was then. He could be half a world away.

To Sokka’s right, Katara shifted, leaning forward, shadow dancing across her cheek. Sokka could see her eyes and… he knew that look. She had an answer on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t want to ask the question. “Master Piandao,” she said. Katara would push through anything, even this. “This has happened before.”

“Yes,” he said. “Though it’s exceedingly rare.”

Katara nodded, eyes coming in and out of view as she did. “It’ll kill him,” she said, and Sokka could see Aang sinking at her side, head bowing down until his forehead was pressed into the wooden table.

Now it was Sokka turn. He didn’t want to, but he had to, mouth choking on the words. “How long?”

Piandao’s mouth pinched further. “I’ve only read accounts,” he said, “Some say as long as two weeks. Others, three days.”

Sokka was on his feet before he could breath, his footfalls echoing impossibly loud as he thundered across the tatami floor.

It had already been four days.

—

The room where they put Zuko was small and square, usually used as a dormitory for Piandao’s students. It had a simple bed with plain gray sheets, a sturdy but unremarkable desk. Flames roared in its large fireplace, making the room almost uncomfortably warm.

That’s the reason they chose it. It was easy to keep warm.

A wooden chair had been pulled up beside the bed. In it, Fat sat, an empty bowl held in his hands. “You got him to eat?” Sokka said, stomach fluttering.

Fat responded with a single nod. “Zuko was always a dutiful student,” he said. “You’ll be staying with him a while?”

When Sokka nodded Fat rose to his feet. “He’ll rally,” Fat said, voice affectionately stern. “Food, rest, warmth. It will go a long way.” Sokka wasn’t sure if Fat actually believed that or if he, if all of them, were trying to will something into existence, trying to project onto Zuko a strength that wasn’t there.

The only light in the room came from candles and the fire. Maroon curtains were open but it was only black outside, moonless. Shadows danced on Zuko’s face as he lay still and quiet, dressed now in loose pajamas. He looked comfortable at least. Lying on his side, wrapped in a thick, red blanket, with only his head and his toes poking out.

He’d be lost without that blanket, Sokka thought. The red was the only color in the room.

Sokka hesitated for only a moment before kicking off his own boots and settling himself down on the bed, his empty arms reaching, wrapping around the boy in the red blanket. His leg too, so desperate for touch. And maybe Zuko needed it, because he nuzzled forward, pushing his nose into Sokka’s cheek, his hands into Sokka’s chest. Even his feet shifted until the soul of his left foot was somehow pressed into Sokka’s right ankle.

They'd never gotten to touch like this, not really, during the strange flirtation they’d had since returning from Boiling Rock. Everything was stolen glances, lingering conversations, arms pressed together even though they didn’t have to be. A lingering hug. Everything fleeting. Everything discreet. Like it was half real and half a dream.

One stolen kiss. Arms shaking. Lips frantic. In the misting rain.

Now Sokka was living a nightmare. Zuko smelt like sweat and leather. His arms still shook from the memory of holding Zuko while Appa flew, Zuko’s body cold and trembling. The longest Sokka’d ever been able to hold him, and it was because he was dying.

But he wasn’t dead.Zuko was warmer than he’d felt in days.

“You’re going to be alright,” Sokka said, even though he didn’t believe it. But maybe Fat had it right. Maybe it was best to pretend Zuko was strong, even if it was a fiction. Maybe it’d be true if they lied. If Zuko believed them.

Sokka took a deep breath as it let his eyes close, holding Zuko as closely as he could.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Love languages (Gepard, Sampo, Jing Yuan, Blade)

After having intended to do this for more than 6 months now, I'm finally getting to love languages for some of our HSR boys.

CW: Sampo slander, general fluff, use of "honey" in Sampo's, references to Blade's issues

Gepard x gn!reader, Sampo x gn!reader , Jing Yuan x gn!reader, Blade x gn!reader

Gepard

Earnest, earnest Geppie

I think his primary love language is probably acts of service

His entire life is about doing things and that probably extends to you

He's not a verbally expressive person and unfortunately he doesn't have as much time to spend with you, but he's always doing stuff in the time he does have

helping with dishes, making you breakfast before he leaves

If you have long hair, he braids it before bed

It's subtle, but there's no way to mistake his love for you

Sampo

Bastard (/half affectionate)

As much as I think he'd be a very touchy person, always hanging off your shoulders, playing with your hair, that's not his primary love language

No, the guy is always giving you gift, and usually in the most obnoxious way possible I mean it's Sampo we're talking about

This wouldn't be a issue, but this is Sampo we're talking about. 90% of his gifts (like pretty much anything else in his life) was scammed, conned, or all but stolen from someone else

The conversation goes something like this:

Sampo: Honey, I got you a gift You: And who'd you con if off of? Sampo: You wound me! I'm a legitimate business man. You: give it back, Sampo Sampo: fine

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan is 100% a physical contact person

Not that he doesn't want to spend time with you or give you things, he just has the vibe who always wants to be touching you

Arms around your waist with his on your shoulder, cuddles on the couch

Totally lets you come over when he's working overtime and lets you lay your head on his lap

And he totally turns into a cat when you run your fingers through his hair. Half lidden eyes, contented smile, you swear if he could purr, he would, so you make a point of doing so, especially after a long day

When he gets home, it's a toss up as to what position you're in, but if you're not in his arms with your head on his chest, then he's in your arms with his head on your lap or chest. Which happens just depends on the day, but as a general rule he's not picky

Blade

Physical contact and maybe acts of service

The guy is not fully sane, so he's not very good at the other love languages

So he tends to be very touchy and a little possessive. If someone is teasing you, expect him to come up behind you, wrap his arms around you and glare at whoever the offender is

He doesn't say as much, but your touch makes him feel a little more human. When you touch him, he doesn't feel the need for Kafka's compulsion power as much--which makes Kafka very happy. She seems to be pretty fond of Blade after all.

What he also doesn't say is that thinking about coming home to your arms and your gentle hands makes him want to survive a little bit more

But as much as he doesn't say it, you can see it in the soft smile when he sees you and the way he leans into your touch

So if every now and then you have to tell him to back off--and he usually does--then it's worth it seeing him improve because of your presence

[sharkboy305]

Your honor I just wanna be squished and cuddled between them, Is that too much to ask for?????

[boy-kisser-in-theory]

i talk about wanting to be called pretty and loved and being treated like someone’s everything but for some reason people don’t think you can be a binary trans man, or man in general, and want this.

so, this is for the masc binary trans men who want to be called pretty and to be loved and to be treated like someone’s everything.

you can want that too.

[savvylittlecoxswain]

Don walks in to the living room of their shared house and finds Chuck and Bobby cuddling on one of the couches, probably passed out. He just stands there looking kinda confused and then Stub walks through the room totally unfazed like “oh yeah, they do that sometimes.” Don takes this as meaning they’re in a relationship and is sad because he definitely had a crush on Bobby. In reality, the cuddling is entirely platonic and is something they did last year too, like they’re just two touchy/tactile people with anxiety seeking comfort from someone they trust. And Don starts to avoid Bobby which makes Bobby upset and maybe Don sees Bobby crying and can’t help but immediately assume he and Chuck broke up, but Bobby is just in tears like “tf Don?!”

[stansxemoxdiary]

My ankle hurts so fucking much, but being comfy in my bed makes me feel so soft

I want to cuddle up next to a boy and rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while we just lay happily together and talk about nothing