#have been proper sobbing. i'm out of tissues

[celeryw]

i'm having revelations x

[banned-for-horny]

How Does That Make You Feel?

Robin needs therapy after the dock events. Dr. Harper is happy to help.

tw: noncon, terrible therapy advice, description of abuse/violence, Sorry Robin

I'm gonna consider this my final bit of robin whump to cap off the sorry robin save file before starting a new one lol. happy halloween!

The office is...cozy. Clinical, with its white walls and sterile smell, but softened by the yellow glow of a standing lamp and the giant couch that sinks under Robin's weight. It's different from the office that you described when you attended counseling sessions, but you also paid your rent on time and didn't need such comforts like this. You didn't feel the need to keep your back to a wall with your eyes on the door at all times.

"Are you sure you don't want a snack?"

Robin flinches, spine snapping to attention. "I-N-No, I'm fine. Thank you, though."

Across the room, sitting back in his own overstuffed chair, is Dr. Harper. He gives Robin a pleasant smile as a pen twirls between his fingers. "Of course. Remember, it's free. All you need to do is ask."

Robin tries to smile at that. It's a kind gesture, but taking food from strangers still doesn't sit well with him. "I'll...remember."

"Good. Now then!" Dr. Harper shifts, just enough to allow his left ankle to rest on his right knee. "Why don't we get started? How have you been since our last session?"

"I've..." Robin stalls, nails biting into his knees. "It's been...bad."

Dr. Harper's brows lift. "How so?"

"I-Well..." Again, he stalls, more out of guilt than actual hesitancy. He's gotten better at this, collecting his hazy thoughts and molding them into proper words. When he'd first had his solo sessions with Dr. Harper, it took him an hour just to stop sobbing. But those had been about the...the memories at the docks. This time..."I-I had a really bad dream. It's been...bothering me ever since."

"Oh?" Dr. Harper twirls his pen. "Describe it to me, if you can."

And, really, Robin should have been prepared for this. Dr. Harper likes to hear things in vivid detail. He says it helps ground a person to reality, keeps them from dissociating or avoiding the truth. It does help, but just thinking of what Robin is about to say makes his stomach churn. "I-It...It was about my friend." His gnawed nails scratch his palms as he pulls his feet onto the couch, tucking them under his thighs. "The one who recommended you?"

"Ah, I remember them," Dr. Harper says with a fond smile. You were an excellent patient, apparently. It doesn't make the knot in Robin's stomach any looser. "What happened in your dream that involved them?"

Robin hugs his stomach, slowly hunching over in some attempt at shielding himself. Phantom aches begin to throb under his skin, fists and rods and whatever toys they could find beating into his torso until he could barely breath. Details, he tells himself. Details.

Click!

"I-I hurt them," Robin forces out. "I would...We were in a room, a-and I was ch-choking them. I don't remember why, but-" But he was squeezing hard and tight, sinking his fingers deep into the back of your throat. Even now, he remembers the way your muscles convusled under his palms.

"Focus," Dr. Harper calls, followed by another click! of his pen. "What else happened?"

Robin's stomach only sinks. No matter what he did, you wouldn't stop thrashing. He remembers that. He tried to punch you, but pulling a hand away gave you to opening to get away, and when Robin tried to chase you, he-

Click!

"I-I was stuck." Robin's voice catches in his throat. "There was this-this chain and when I tried to follow them I couldn't run and they..." You didn't wait for him. You ran and ran and left him behind. Robin doesn't realize he's crying until the tears hit his pants. He grabs the tissue from its box and dabs at his cheek, struggling to breathe through his clogged nose. "I...think I woke up after that."

Dr. Harper hums, twirling his pen as Robin grabs another tissue. "It sounds like you have some budding resentment towards your friend."

"What? No," flies out of Robin instinctually. "T-They're my best friend. I-We've been together ever since I can remember."

"And yet you dreamt of hurting them. Why do you think that is?"

"I-I don't know."

Dr. Harper's smile thins. "May I posit a theory, then?" At the orphan's nod, the doctor sets his foot down and points at him with his pen. "You're upset at them because they're the reason why you were sent to the docks."

Click!

"W-What?" Robin recoils as Dr. Harper nods, apparently satisfied with his assumption. "I-That-it wasn't their fault. It was my own-"

"But they're responsible for you, aren't they?" Dr. Harper asks. "I recall you mentioning that they help pay your rent at the loft."

Ah, right. That little lie. Robin almost forgets that you and he had agreed to not tell the doctor about Bailey's payments to avoid even more threats on their life. Still, Robin nods slowly, massaging his legs. "Right. Why would I-I hate them for helping me?"

"I don't think they're really helping you." Dr. Harper frowns, now, apparently serious enough to open his eyes fully instead of remaining half-lidded, like he's finally awake instead of operating in a dream. "Let us change subjects for a moment: Why do you think you've been targeted more often?"

Because I'm weak, Robin thinks. His mouth falters, but from the way the doctor's frown deepens, he doubts he'll need to say it aloud.

"Perhaps," Dr. Harper says, "but in comparison to who?"

"To...my friend?" Robin guesses.

"Precisesly. Now, if you don't mind, could you stand?" Dr. Harper rises from his own seat in time with Robin. The doctor is quite small compared to him, but that is to be expected; Robin is one of the tallest orphans-actually, he's one of the tallest students in the school, beaten out only by Whitney and some upperclassmen. The only thing stopping him from really filling out his frame is his restricted diet courtesy of Bailey. "You make for quite the intimidating figure at first glance. Your friend, on the other hand..."

You're shorter than Robin. You're smaller than Robin. In fact, Robin knows he can pick you up easily and has done it plenty of times before. Outside of physicality, though, you...you trump him. You've put people in the hospital before. The police haven't been able to put you away simply because you had enough connections to get rid of evidence, and if the evidence can't disappear, then you just use your fists.

Click!

"They only target you because your friend is too dangerous to hurt." Dr. Harper lifts his pen and presses into Robin's sternum. All it takes is a single tap - with a click! of his pen, he pushes the orphan back into the couch. "You're kind, Robin. Too kind."

Robin's protests escape him when he lands. The doctor stares down with a frown.

"Your friend is supposed to protect you."

Click!

"And yet all of this has only come about because of them."

Click!

"Does that not annoy you?"

"I..." Robin wants to say no, it doesn't, but that smoldering heat he'd buried in his gut is starting to spread, eating away at the guilt until his fingers curl. "Y-Yes."

Dr. Harper steps back, twirling his pen as his brow lifts. "Yes, what?"

"It annoys me."

Click!

"Then why not tell them?"

"Because I can't," Robin says. The heat claws up his chest, circling the point where Dr. Harper had hit him with the pen and bleeding into his lungs. "T-They're just trying to protect me-"

The doctor frowns at that answer. "And they didn't do a very good job of that, did they?" He leans down this time to stare Robin right in the face, pen clicking behind his back. "How long were you at the docks, Robin?"

Robin's blood freezes. Five days. The sun rose and set five different times.

Click!

"What did they do to you, Robin?"

Hurt him. Beat him-no. Details. They started with treating him like bellboy on a cruise, made him walk around naked and serve the people while their hands scratched and slapped and punched. And when he dropped a bottle of wine worth £20,000, they forced him to kneel in the shards and clean it with his tongue. And after that, they used whips and rods and laughed when he couldn't keep count. Someone slathered him in some pink cream and taunted him when his cock felt like it was going to explode from how hard it pulsed. Before that, though, they used clothespins to pinch his foreskin back and after that they'd used ropes to strangle him and see how close they could get him to pass out before loosening up just enough to breath before trying again.

Click!

"And why did they do all of that, Robin?"

Because of you.

Ding!

Robin blinks as Dr. Harper's waist chimes. He reaches for his pager, grimacing at whatever notification flashes on his screen. "Seems we're having an emergency," he says and pockets the device. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut this session a little short."

"That's okay," Robin says slowly, thoughts still a mess of his own anger. He rises and clears his throat, massaging the ache out of his hands. "I-Um...what should I do next time? Or..."

Dr. Harper hums, tapping his pen against his lip. It stretches into a chipper smile that shuts his eyes and sends shivers down the boy's back. "Why don't you invite your friend to the next session? Sometimes it's easier to tell someone how they feel when there's a third party to intervene if something goes wrong."

-

Robin is a XX-year old male student with a prior history of social instability. He is an orphan with no known relatives. His legal guardian is the orphanage's caretaker. He lives in a flat with a roommate, who also lived in the same orphanage. Robin attends classes regularly at the local school and works part-time at a café. Recently, Robin reports feelings of insecurity and self-doubt, with the source of these feelings stemming from his roommate. Robin

Dr. Harper huffs, glaring at the report before him. He never was one for writing case summaries. Much of his work required direct, hands-on approaches and left very little time for him to accurately write down notes. He could have an assistant do it for him, of course, but...Robin is a special case.

"Rob-Ghck!"

Dr. Harper looks up just in time. Robin's right hand crushes your mouth while the other frantically claws at his shorts. Your knees are hiked, legs kicking, but whatever hits you land only spurs the orphan on. The curve of your waist bucks and twists, muscles taut under your exposed skin. Huh. Seems you really do have the better physique.

A muffled hiccup draws his gaze to your face. There are tears already spilling down your cheeks, hands clawing at Robin's wrist. His mad fervor begins to slow. The hand crushing your face begins to relax.

Click!

Robin's nails bite into your cheek, and the struggle renews in earnest.

Dr. Harper shifts in his seat, sitting up to ease the strain of his trousers against his erection. Where you have your strength, Robin outweighs you in his rage. He frees his erection in a few frantic tears of his shorts. He doesn't even bother looking for a condom when he sinks into you. It's not like those dockworkers would have used a condom on the poor orphan.

The pained wail that escapes you makes his blood sing.

Dr. Harper readjusts his clipboard to shield himself, then quietly unbuckles his belt. He doubts he needs to be careful, really, but Robin is a bit...tetchy. Best not to draw his attention right now.

Click!

He palms his erection just as Robin begins to thrust, each snap of his hip jolting your entire frame. The orphan's body nearly covers yours as he curls into you. Your legs have frozen around his sides - out of pain or fear or resignation, Dr. Harper can't tell. Your hips, though, jerk with each thrust, up and into Robin's own. You must be more into this than he thought. Perhaps you'd expected it earlier, when the orphan had yelled and yelled about his memories at the docks. After all, you are Robin's closest friend. It would only be the right thing to do after everything you put him through.

Click!

Robin finally releases your face in favor of caging you in his arms, burying his face against your throat and swearing with rage. You let out a pained whimper and scratch at his shoulders. It only leaves thin, red lines that, really, probably feels incredible.

"I-Hah-Fuck-" Robin practically crushes you beneath him, hips a blur. A pulse runs through Dr. Harper's cock at the sight, stomach knotting as he jerks his hand faster and faster. He pants between clenched teeth, a beautiful harmony to the melody of gasps and groans before him, and when your desperate, tearful eyes meet his, the doctor twitches and sends his cum splattering against his clipboard.

From the way Robin buries himself into you not a second later and moans, Dr. Harper can't help but chuckle. He tucks his cock away and slips an extra sheet of paper over the report. The cum begins to smear the fresh ink, but he sets it aside in order to lean forward with his pen.

Click!

Robin slowly unravels in your arms, muscles going lax as he pulls his hips back. His cock slips out of your stretched hole with a soft shlick, sending a jolt through the doctor's spine. Anger still simmers in his gaze when you start to sit up, pulling your shirt up to shield your bare chest. Dr. Harper's smile only grows at the sight.

"I think," he announces, "that should be good for today. You've made some excellent progress, Robin."

Robin's slow blink does little to clear the fog in his eyes while he smiles. "Yeah...that's good."

"As for you." Dr. Harper points his pen at you and smiles when you shrink back in fear. "Thank you so much. Robin really needs your support, and this was a huge help."

Click!

"You're such a good friend."

Your puffy lips part, waver, then seal shut, head bobbing in a tiny nod before turning to Robin. The boy is already dressed and ready to leave the office, a dreamy smile on his face as he offers a hand to you. It takes you two seconds too long to take it.

Dr. Harper clicks his pen, smiling when two different pairs of eyes land on him. "Same time next week?"

"That works," Robin answers with a happy nod.

Beside him, your knuckles tighten. The smile you show him doesn't quite reach your eye. "I-I think I'll be busy-"

"Nonsense." Dr. Harper waves his hand and scoffs, thumbing the top of his pen until it clicks. "What could be more important than supporting your best friend?"

Under Robin's expectant gaze, you shrink back and whisper, "Nothing."

"Exactly." With that, Dr. Harper rises from his seat and presses a hidden button on his pager, the ding! resounding through the cramped office. He makes a show of grimacing at the blank screen, then offers the same apologetic smile as before. "Well,  I'll see you two next week then. Take care."

Once the door is locked, Dr. Harper picks up the report and grimaces. For Robin's file...eh, he can have an intern pen it out for him. You, on the other hand...Dr. Harper smiles and fishes out a blank report sheet, mind abuzz with treatment plans. Your hesitancy, non-compliance, neglecting the needs of your friends? All the signs of a troubled patient in the making. Hopefully he'll be able to intervene before you end up like Robin.

[meraki-yao]

For Ficlet friday Firstprince and Getting lost at the bachelor/bacheloretteparty, pretty please :)

Hi Anna! Sorry I'm late, but thank you for the prompt!

🗺️ Getting lost on the bachelor/bachelorette party

Alex finds himself wandering to the rooftop of the Stargazer Louge. He should be down, celebrating his sister and his best friend during their bachelorette party. He was, and he’s happy for his girls, he really is, but… Ah, well. It hurts to see them so happy with each other, just to find himself alone in a corner. He wants love. Despite his parents’ divorce, some part of him that never grew up to scoff at fairy tales craved that passionate, all-encompassing love, the feeling of finding your soulmate, someone who matches you, someone who loves you with all your strength and flaws. Someone who would never find him too loud, too excited, too messy, too much to say. Someone for him. He tries. His last couple of relationships never even got past the “meet your parents” stage, then he was swamped with work in a new law firm with his new job and just didn’t have the time other than a couple of hook-ups and drunken one-night stands. He used to have June and Nora around his corner to pull him out, a constant reminder that despite everything, he’s not completely alone. But now with them getting married and planning to start a family, they’re inevitably gonna have less and less time for him. And he feels kind of pathetic, like a petulant child crying for attention, even though he’s a grown-ass man. God, why does he keep being the one left behind? He leans against the railing and signs. Fucking hell. But then from the corner of his sight, he sees someone else, also against the fence but looking outwards, staring at the night sky, whimpers and quiet sobs coming from his shaking figure. He walks up to the guy and gets a better look at him and oh my— In front of him is the most handsome man he’s ever seen, with sparkling blue eyes, a tall nose and plush velvet lips, his blonde hair swept back by the evening wind, slender fingers gripping on the railing bars. “Hey,” Alex starts cautiously, not wishing to spook him. The man looks at him, startled, clearly just noticing his presence, and rushing to wipe the tears and snot off his face. Alex hands him a tissue packet from his pocket. “Ah, hello. Goodness, I’m terribly sorry about you seeing this, I’m a proper mess right now.” “Not a problem at all, sweetheart. You alright though? You looked like you could use some company.” Jesus, what was he doing? Alex never comes on this strong, certainly not when he’s sober and the person he’s interested is crying alone on the top of a bar. “Ah. It’s just— My friends offered to take me out for fun tonight, they say that I don’t get out enough. But I’ve never been here before and got lost, and my phone battery died and my friends were my rider here and I just— Everything is going wrong today, and then I just remembered that five years ago today we found out my dad had cancer. He passed three months later. It’s all a mess.” The stranger wipes his new tears and tries to compose himself. “Oh God, what am I doing, I’m so sorry you don’t need to hear a random bloke vent—” “No no no! It’s fine!” Alex rushes to reassure him. “Thank you for telling me that. It’s alright. We all have our bad days. And uh, I’m really sorry about your dad.” Henry sighs and looks up to the sky again. “We used to stargaze. He got me a telescope for my seventh birthday and we’ve been looking for stars ever since. You could see so many in our family’s holiday house in Wales.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Can’t see shite here though. So much for a place called ‘Stargazer Louge’.” “Yeah, unfortunately, that’s New York for ya.” Alex answers, then tentatively asks “I don’t suppose you could tell me more about the stars? You look like you could use some company?” “Oh please don’t feel obligation—”

“Nope, I genuinely am interested in getting to know you, sweetheart. Unless you don’t want me to, then I will fuck right off, no hard feelings.” The man stares at him for a minute in disbelief, then shakes his head and laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. “Well then, thank you dear. Let’s start with names, shall we? I’m Henry.” He wipes one hand against his pants and holds it out, and Alex grasps it in return, warmth traveling through his palm up his arm and zooming into his heart. “I’m Alex. Nice to meet you, Henry.”

I think I played a little loose with the prompt, but I'm pretty happy with what came out! Might refine it to make a full fic someday in the future

[b000mbayah]

Yandere aespa reaction to you crying?

Absolutely anon!

╭──..★..───────.★.───────..★..──╮

Karina

What happened?

You were both just sitting on the couch in the living room, enjoying a movie together when you suddenly let out a sob, your body jerking forward in response.

Karina had turned her head to stare at you wide-eyed as she took in the sight of you trying desperately to hide your obvious crying. Your tears had slipped down your flushed cheeks and dripped onto the blanket covering you.

How long have you been crying?

Karina leaned forward, bringing you into her lap as she let you cry into her neck, dampening her skin deliciously as she rubbed your back comfortingly.

"Hey, hey, Princess, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Who did this? I'll kill them, I swear I'll kill them" she growled, asking a thousand questions a second as she began to shake in anger at the thought of someone such as your boss even laying a grubby finger on you.

"No" you managed to squeeze out between sobs, albeit it being a little distorted due to the slurring of your drained voice. "No more killing" you whimpered, pushing your head further into her neck.

"But if they've made you cry then they should pay for what they've done" Karina resorted, gazing down at you.

"No" you repeated "I won't tell you, they don't deserve it… it was an accident"

Karina raised an eyebrow at your words, feeling off about them "was it actually an accident or are you just telling yourself that?"

Your silence was more than enough to give Karina the answer she knew was ought to become the issue. She wouldn't kill them in respect for you, but the assassin she'll hire will. Their death wasn't at the cost of her hands, it was at the cost of someone's job, someone else's hands.

Anything to keep her precious princess safe.

Giselle

She could hear muffled screaming coming from your shared bedroom when she arrived home from shopping. Giselle had instantly dumped all grocery filled bags and quickly made her way to the bedroom, already equipped for the worst to come.

But when she found you crying into your pillow, the sheets dishevelled and half your work clothes just thrown on the floor, she knew something much different was up.

Giselle could've guessed you were being harassed in one way or another, but since you were here and not at work for once- she knew it had something to do with that part of your life.

"Baby?" Giselle called out, stepping into the room and coming to sit by your side, causing a dip in the bed to form. "Why are you home? What's wrong?"

You mumbled something into the pillow, something about a customer and your boss. "Hey, calm down" Giselle's hand came to rest upon your shoulder, pulling you away from the pillow as your face looked like it had been sewn to it from the way it almost peeled from the fabric.

"Deep breaths, deep breaths please" Giselle helped to guide you through a more relaxed experience as your screams of frustration slowly subsided to a runny nose and puffy eyes.

"Here" Giselle smiled gently, handing you a tissue. You thanked her and sheepishly blew your nose before putting it on your bedside table. You'd end up cleaning it later anyway. "Now please, repeat that to me in standard words"

"A customer got me sent home… I think I'm losing my job" you frowned at the thought of having to go through multiple more interviews before getting another job.

"Why do you think that?"

"They were complaining about us being out of stock, claiming I sold the last dress in the style she had "put on hold" when her name was never on the list"

Giselle rolled her eyes at the common behaviour of people these days, she's witnessed a few of these occurrences but never had she thought once that you'd be put on the line for fire.

"When I wasn't looking she somehow got her name on the system- must've been when I went to get my boss for a proper discussion on the case. When we arrived back, all he saw as a confident women with her name in the system somehow"

Giselle groaned, standing up as she made her way to the door in a fit. "You're staying here, job or not, you're not leaving till this issue is resolved" Giselle told you in a darkened tone. But before you could even respond she had the door closed and magically locked from the outside.

You'd find yourself stuck in the room as she got back in her car to get information from your work. She'd need at least a name or camera footage before she'd be able to do anything, and trust me would she do everything.

Anything to keep her beloved baby safe.

Winter

When Winter awoke to the small sniffles of your sleeping figure, she narrowed her sleep dosed eyes at you, capturing small glimpses of a golden hazed tear slip down your cheek.

Her hands slipped out from under the covers as she gently shook you awake. Eventually, your almost silent sniffles turned into heavy breaths as you woke up half confused.

"What were you dreaming about darling?" Her voice was calm, considering the amount of anger and adrenaline now pulsing through her raging bloodstream.

"I- mmmm" you hummed, eyebrows furrowed as you thought hard before responding "Work"

"Who at work?" She asked, edging on your still sleepy mind.

You yawned. And then you spoke. "Some new boy- thinks he can boss all the women around like we're rats to his flute or whatever. Can I sleep again?"

"One more question, okay?" You only hummed, eyes still shut with the weight of sleep heavy upon them. "What did he tell you to do?"

"Mmm… fetch him lunch, scratch his back, mmm, something else. Can I sleep now?"

"Of course darling" Winter smiled through tight lips, stroking your hair calmingly as you quickly fell back asleep. However, as soon as you fell into rest, Winter got up to work, and you can bet that work involved that new boy.

Maybe she'll give him a taste of his own medicine. You scratch his back, she'll scratch it too- just three times harder with a knife or something else just as sharp.

Anything to keep her dearest darling safe.

Ningning

Ningning hadn't questioned why you were at the shop down the road for so long. You had left a good hour ago and she had yet to see any signs of you.

After a further five minutes however, you had re-emerged from that front door, hair a slight mess as your eyes brimmed with diamond plated tears.

Ningning had practically thrown herself at you, hands on your shoulders as she looked at you worriedly with widened eyes. "Why are you crying?" You shook your head, hanging it as you just kept silently crying into the air. "Sweetheart, please tell me. If they've made you cry I need to know"

You gulped.

"Some retail worker was creeping me out the other week- and- and I saw them again today. I was hoping they weren't working today, but they were."

Ningning had scowled, scoffing and spitting at the thought of someone making you uncomfortable, so much so that you had cried and returned empty-handed, wasting an hour of your time.

Without another word, Ningning had released your shoulders and dashed for her shoes and a jacket. You gave her a confused look as she opened the front door, fists balled into tight clamps. "I'll be right back sweetheart, see you in a second"

You had no chance to squeeze in another word as the door was forcefully slammed shut in one swift motion. You knew what she was going to do, and at this point, there was no stopping her from doing what she apparently does best.

You know Ningning is only trying to protect you, but you can't help but feel bad for the number of people she's killed for your convenience. She sees nothing wrong with it, so why bother? She'd never change her mind, not when it comes to keeping you happy.

Because she'd do anything to keep her swain sweetheart safe.

[pinkiepiebones]

Everything Stays

It was an accident. (Written for the prompt Vampire!Renfield)

It had been weeks since Robert had moved in with Rebecca. The Sunrise Towers were still locked down with FBI and CIA and ATF and about a dozen other organizations with acronyms on their jackets scoured the scene that so oddly resembled the scene inside the Lobo mansion. Neither of them knew just how long Robert would be away from his home, his first home in over a century that had been wholly his. Weeks had passed. Then Robert lost a tooth.

.

It had been hours after the fight and hours after bringing Robert's friends back from the dead when they arrived at her place, both deciding it might be best to lie low a while. Rebecca got glasses of water, one for her and one for him, and they sat on the couch in silence. Then Rebecca noticed how badly Robert's hands were shaking.

"Oh, shit," she said gently, setting her glass on the coffee table and turning her attention to him. "You still have his fangs in your hands."

She reached over and took the glass from his trembling fingers and held his hands steady. She looked up and realised neither of them had bothered trying to wipe the blood off his face. Tears were falling, breaking up the black stains.

Rebecca ran a bubbling bath and convinced him to get in (keeping a towel around his waist for his own sense of modesty) and she sat beside the tub with a pair of pliers and carefully pulled one of the fangs out while Robert scrubbed his face and hair.

"Gross," Rebecca said after she pulled the first one. She got up to toss the fang in the trash. Robert held his hand up so he could see the hole between the index and middle knuckle. He made this weird chuckling sob noise and leaned back in the tub, trying to rinse his hair.

Rebecca opened some drawers and muttered about a first aid kit, then she snapped her fingers. "Hang on, I'm gonna get the blood. Probably works better than stitches, right?"

Rebecca disappeared and came back and used a tablespoon to ladle the blackish-red liquid out of the Tupperware jug and onto Robert's hand. They both watched as the blood seeped into the hole and invigorated the tissues and skin into speedily repairing.

Robert flexed his fingers and looked for evidence of the healing, any sort of ridge or scar. Seeing nothing but skin, he sighed "Suppose that's a good sign," and raised his other hand so Rebecca could extract the remaining fang. She held his hand and readied the pliers.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Oh, just- it's silly, really, but it had occurred to me that I might get turned. Might be Dracula's final 'fuck you' to me."

The fang slid out with an audible pop. Rebecca set the pliers on the bathroom counter.

"What?"

Robert smiled almost shyly. "Ah, well, since I ingested his blood- it's different than having it spilled on you to heal you, you know, even though it still heals it's the matter of consuming it-" He shook his head. "I need to not be in a tub to explain this, I think." Rebecca nodded, not quite understanding, and spooned blood onto the hole in Robert's hand.

Later, after he was dried and wearing some of Rebecca's gym clothes ("they'll look weird 'cause you're too tall, but it beats sittin' around naked"), Robert explained.

"So as I understand it- ah, from what Dracula shared, or deemed it necessary for me to know- vampire blood heals. Obviously. But, it only works as a healing agent when applied to whatever wound there is. Consuming it is different. It's-"

He hesitated.

"It comes down to sharing blood," he said, ducking his head. "He had my blood before, you know, mostly out of desperation due to lack of a proper meal, and I had his, just once, when he m-made me..."

"A familiar."

Robert nodded. Rebecca crossed her arms.

"His blood got in your mouth and you came back to life and saved me," Rebecca said slowly, trying to piece together scraps of evidence in this case.

"But," Robert said, "then his fangs pierced me. So we consumed each other's blood and he bit me. Not in the conventional sense of it, but those were his, how should I say- his full 'vampire mode' fangs."

"Which means-?"

"It means that I could very well become a vampire now."

Rebecca stared.

"I'm no expert on the matter, but the pieces of it are all there." Robert smiled at his friend. "There's no scarring, which is good, as the true fangs leave scars, but, still....

"If I turn, you'll kill me, right?"

"Wh-"

"I don't want that life," Robert said. "I spent a century serving a monster. I couldn't live with myself if I become one as well."

"Robert, I-"

"I don't even know how long it takes for someone to turn," he continued. "It's not an instantaneous thing, I know that much." He picked at the skin around his nails. "I'm sorry to, um, dump all of this on you, Rebecca. Let's forget I said anything, hm?"

.

It had been weeks since the conversation. Rebecca had given no answer then, not wanting to confront the notion of murdering her friend. Neither of them talked about it after that, anyway. Robert went out in the daylight hours without a problem. He ate human food. All was well.

One evening after a DRAAG meeting, as they were walking to Rebecca's car, Robert stopped in his tracks. Rebecca turned around. "What's wrong, Rob?"

Robert made a face and fished his handkerchief out of his jacket pocket (Rebecca had teased him about it, saying only old men who wear socks with sandals carry those). He spread the kerchief over one hand like an improvised glove and reached into his mouth and pulled a tooth out.

"What the fuck?"

Robert stared at the tooth. "Well, this is concerning," he said softly. "That didn't hurt."

Rebecca felt something cold slither up her spine. She pulled Robert to the car and they both got in and she drove them back to her place in relative silence. She parked and got out, saying "I'll find a number for a dentist, you just, um, chill, I guess" as she quickly walked to the door. She unlocked the front door and walked in, expecting Robert to follow.

He was standing on the porch.

"Rob?"

Robert swallowed. He tried to smile.

"I can't-"

Rebecca groaned in frustration. "What, all of the sudden I gotta invite y-" Her eyes widened. Robert looked at the ground.

"Nope, nuh uh. You're fuckin' with me." Rebecca grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him inside and she felt him jerk away from her touch. She stared, bewildered.

"Please," Robert whimpered.

Rebecca threw her hands up in annoyance, and in fear. "Alright, fine! I invite you in! Come in, grab a snack, watch some TV, fucking whatever!"

Robert stepped across the threshold.

.

By the time Rebecca had made a dentist appointment with someone who wasn't big on asking questions (or asking for insurance), Robert had pulled more teeth. He was sweating and shaking and after Rebecca tried to get a protein shake in him ("Doesn't seem like a good night to cook," she tried to joke) he went to bed in the little guest room he had been boarding in since Dracula's death.

Rebecca took her laptop into her bedroom and locked the door and researched until she could no longer read the screen. She drifted off, but startled awake when she felt someone standing over her.

Robert was staring down at her with a sharp grin. His teeth had grown back.

"Rebecca," he whispered, "I'm feeling much better. But I am absolutely famished."

Rebecca startled awake. She jumped out of bed and dashed down the hall to the guest room. A small wave of relief hit her when she saw Robert curled up on the bed. She stepped in and sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his sweat-slicked hair. He was still trembling and muttering, and looked paler than usual.

"You're just sick," Rebecca said, unsure if she was trying to reassure him or herself. "You'll get better."

"No, I won't," Robert murmured. He looked at her with reddened eyes. "I'm- it's happening, and you need to be ready to kill me."

"C'mon, Rob, it's not-"

Robert sat up and snarled at her, exposing new, pointed teeth. "No human sickness causes your fucking teeth to fall out and fangs to grow in their place," he hissed. He blinked, and retreated, curling into a tight little ball on the bed.

"Drag me out into the sun, stake me to the ground, do whatever it takes. I beg of you."

Rebecca shook her head adamantly. "No, no, there's gotta be something we can do, some old myth out there..."

Robert moaned. "Christ, Rebecca, I- I can hear your blood flowing inside you. I can smell your blood. Oh, I am starving. When the sun sets you will not be safe."

Rebecca looked at the window. The curtains were pulled shut but a sliver of morning light had slithered in, a thin orange blade in the dark room.

Rebecca had to prepare.

[springfavor]

lost at sea

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

in which taehyung tries to mend what has been broken in your relationship

genre: pure angst and nothing else

wc: c.a 1.01K

warning: be prepared to whip out a tissue box

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A knock. Who knocks when bells exist? You know who. But you try to tell yourself he wouldn't. He shouldn't. He left you three months ago. He has no reason to come to your house and knock like he used to do. Yet you still hope that it’s him.

“Taehyung?” It is him. He looks like shit, eyes puffy, hair messy and clothes wrinkly. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to correct the mistake I committed three months ago.” His voice is full of determination.

You fold the arms in front of your chest. Your brows draw together as you try to decipher Taehyung's words. “What?”

“I should have never left you. You are the best thing that happened to me. And I was stupid to let it go. Jimin was wrong.” He bitterly chuckles, interrupting his speech. “You can be with just one person for your whole life and never get bored of them and the relationship. I shouldn’t have left you. I-I shouldn’t have let Jimin’s fear become mine, and I shouldn’t have broken your heart.”

His words hang in the air. His big brown eyes gaze at you expectantly. Yours stare back at him blankly. His words ring through your head, processing information. Your eyes fall to your feet. He wants you back. He came back. Although this is all you hoped for, you can’t unhear the words that ended your relationship.

“You called me boring.” He flinches at your words. “You said you were bored in our relationship and wanted to explore more of the world. It is natural to want something new after seven years, after being together since we are fourteen. Those were your words.” Your voice is bitter on your tongue.

You clench your fists. Your eyes harden, and his soften. Expectancy is replaced by desperation. “You made me feel like shit, as though I wasn’t enough for you. All because of some stupid words uttered by your best friend. And it took you three months to realise how fucked up this all is, how fucked up your reasons are.”

Tears slip through your eye corner and roll down your cheeks. You don’t wipe them away. You want him to see how much he hurt you. Whilst he sees you and hears you, his eyes well up. His eyes tell you that he knows he fucked up. “I’ll do anything to win you—,“ Taehyung begins.

“Three months, Taehyung. I cried, sobbed and blamed myself for the breakup. Your words broke my heart. You broke my heart,” you start, more tears blurring your vision. “You making me feel stupid for thinking we would stay together wasn’t the worst. You leaving without having a proper conversation, where I had room to talk, wasn’t the worst thing of it all. But you breaking up with me after we talked about our life together was the worst thing. You went from coming up with ridiculous baby names to being bored of me within less than 24 hours.”

Stepping closer to you, he gently cups your face. You hate yourself for leaning into his touch, for wanting him closer to you. The tears he wipes from your face were caused by him. He wedges a knife through your heart and attempts to ease the pain with kisses. You let him. You allow him to press his lips against your temple.

“I am sorry. I was stupid, dumb and idiotic. I will try to be better. No, I will be better for you. But only if you want me?” The dreaded question.

One, two, three steps back. You escape his touch. “What do you want me to say? Yes, Taehyung, I will go back to you, even though you made me feel like shit and broke my heart. It doesn’t matter because I love you,” you sarcastically say. “Is this what you wanted from me? If yes, I can’t give it to you.”

“Please, y/n, I made a mistake. I-I love you,” he damn near begs you, taking a step closer to you

“And I love you. But I also deserve better. I deserve to be with someone who doesn’t question being with me. Someone who never gets tired of me. Someone who isn’t scared to miss out because they are with me. You know, I deserve better,” you state, unwavering.

Stepping closer to the front door, you shake your head. Tears stream down your cheeks and shallow breaths rip through your throat. You want to hold him, wipe away his tears and sweet talk his sorrows away. However, you can’t. You will only hurt yourself in the process, even more than it hurts seeing him breaking apart in front of you.

“No, don’t leave me. y/n, I need you. I will do better,” he promises. A promise you would’ve believed if he had come a month earlier, a day even.

Balling your hands into fists, you fight the urge to hug him, to say yes, to be his again. the salty taste of your tears reminds you that you never can be his again. “I didn’t leave, Taehyung. You did, and maybe it was for the better. I’m not the only one who deserves better. You should be with a person in whose eyes you get lost every day. And I’m not that person.”

“Yes. Yes, you are. You are that person, and you will always be that person. I need you, y/n. Please, give me another chance. Please,” he tries again.

Looking into his teary eyes, hearing the soft sniffles slipping through his lips, standing so close by him, you know you have to let go. Love shouldn’t hurt like this. As though fate squeezes every last ounce of blood out of your chest. As though Aphrodite splits your heart in two. This isn’t love.

Keys in the lock and one look over your shoulder, you ignore the sobs trying to escape through your lips. You force the polaroid of taehyung out of your mind. Every memory you shared and the promise you made are shelved in the dustiest corner of your mind, meant to be forgotten.

“Goodbye, Taehyung,” you mutter.

Doors shut and composure abandoned, you break down. The cries hit you in waves. The undercurrent of memories takes you away from your safe space. With every crash of a wave, a sob echoes through the house. Squeezing your eyes shut, you don’t see the buoy in the shape of your mother. You don’t notice her attempts at guiding you through the storm. The waves keep thrashing your mind. The tears keep streaming down your cheeks. You are lost at sea.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

unedited

© springfavor 2023

[doyoungiesbunnies]

Burn | knj.

pairing: kim namjoon x reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

summary: While you're going through some personal problems, your boyfriend offers you some advice to help you.

word count: 2,045

warnings: broken relationships, burning things, DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY

a/n: First fanfic post!! Well, not really, more like first one shot I guess? Bc I've done timestamps (But I don't really count those tbh oh well)... Anyway! Sorry the first one had to be angst, but this is also something for me to help process things, maybe you can relate? Enjoy! (Also there's a MHA version of this on my MHA fanfic blog, go read it!)

"Babe, what are you doing?"

I hear his shuffling footsteps behind me as I'm rolling a small lump of dough in my hands.  Not that I’m surprised that he’s awake, more surprised he came out of his studio before morning broke.  But I don't look at him, instead choosing to concentrate on getting just the right amount of dough into my hands.  "I'm baking cookies," I answer simply.

He trudges toward the kitchen, rubbing his eyes from under his hood.  "It's 4 AM.  What are you doing awake?"

I hesitate placing the balled dough on my kitchen scale for a beat before returning to my rhythm.  There are so many ways to answer that question, many of them would worry him.  Hell, they worry me.  So many answers that would require an unraveling of complex emotions that I'd rather not think about, nor would I prefer to visit right now because I don't feel like crying in the middle of the kitchen at this time of night.  But at the same time, the fact that I am making cookies at a nocturnal time is cause for worry.

It means it's getting bad.  Again.

I sigh, plopping the neatly rolled up ball onto the baking sheet next to me.  "Because I've lost control of my life."  That's not a bad way to start, I guess.

Namjoon stands next to me and examines my workstation.  His soft gaze darts between the bowl of cookie dough, the parchment paper lined kitchen scale, and the baking sheet.  Even as I continue portioning the dough carefully, I feel him studying me carefully.  The next thing I hear is running water as he washes his hands before he wordlessly takes his place next to me.

We work in silence.  Knowing him, the questions are turning in his head, but I'm pleased that he doesn't ask questions (yet).  Still, I appreciate his company; it’s the little comforts he provides.

Once the cookies are in the oven baking, we set the timer and I slide them in the oven.  As the door closes and I straighten, I feel his arms circle me from behind.  His warmth under the sleeves of his hoodie envelopes me with his scent.  “Are you okay?” he finally questions gently, leaning his chin on my shoulder.

I've been wondering how to tell him for a while.  I knew he would ask eventually.  He’s very patient, but concern tends to get in his way.  My situation with someone else has nothing to do with him, but he's the closest person to me.  He deserves to know at least what's going on, I just don't know how much I should tell him.  There was a chance he'd think differently of me, knowing I have some ugly thoughts.

He hugs me tighter.  "I’ve noticed, for the past few weeks, you've been more quiet, less talkative, you're spacing out more, you haven’t been going out on Sundays like you usually do.”

I look down at the floor and grip his arms for support.  "I've... had a lot on my mind lately."  It's not a complete lie.

He nuzzles his head into mine.  "I’m worried about you."

The care in his voice tugs sharply at me, releasing a wave of melancholy chaos so brutal I start trembling.  A fresh wave of sobs threatens to come out as I cover my mouth.

"Oh sh- Babe, I’m-"

"No, it's fine," I manage out shakily, my voice already higher and cracking.

Namjoon leads me to the living room couch to sit me down, handing me the box of tissues.  I take one to rub my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat.  "I needed to tell you sometime and I've been neglecting you, I'm sorry."

He scoots closer to me.  “No, I wanted you to take your time.  I’m here to listen.”

I tell him everything.  Every detail of my slow burn argument that lasted almost a whole week, starting from inciting events weeks ago to the climactic end last week.  All my regrets, my mistakes, my anger, my insults, my self-doubt, my regrets, all the unspoken words I've kept to myself.  Everything rushed out of me to the point where I was sobbing and shaking, my boyfriend cradling me in his arms.  I thought I would've been able to handle it, pushing it down for me to deal with and process later, but later never came because I was trying to delay facing them.  My fear of showing him the innermost darkest and broken parts of me that I thought would push him away.  I realize I'm more of a mess than I thought I was; I let it build up by myself until I became a sobbing mess.

Namjoon stays silent, running his warm hands up and down my back and listening to everything I had to say, even if they weren't exactly coherent from the sobs.  

"I'm proud of you, you know.  You've been trying to dig yourself out of a dark place for weeks, and I'm so proud you're trying.  But there's nothing wrong with asking for help, it doesn't make you weak.  I know, it’s hard dealing with dark thoughts, especially since you’re the nicest person I’ve met.  We all have our dark side, but it comes from a place of hurt and it's a genuine feeling.  It doesn't make you a bad person just because you have them.  It makes you human.  I had to learn that too."  He pulls back to look at me and wipe the tear trails off my face.  He offers a gentle smile.  "I still love you.  I'm here for you, I won't leave just because you want to insult someone who hurt you.  I don’t think of you any differently.  You’re still my angel."

I slam into his body, clutching him like a lifeline.  How does he always know just what to say?

His large hand rhythmically thumps against my back.  “I'm sorry you're feeling this way.  I'll do anything I can to help you, if you'll let me.  I know how hard it was to tell me."

I let his comforting warmth wash over me as my sobs calm down, leaning against him and tracing the veins on the back of his hands.  “I didn't want to think about my feelings for so long.  I wanted to ignore them as much as I could because I thought they were bad.  I thought ignoring them meant being able to move on.  I ran away from them until I was baking cookies at 4 am just to distract myself.  I just... want to face them and be done with them."

A few heartbeats pass before he says, "Well, why don’t you burn them?"

I stop.  "What?"

"Burn them.  Write them down and then burn the paper."  When I give him a confused expression, he explains, “You're the kind of person who needs to get things off your chest to relieve your feelings and be done with them.  I know there are things you don't want to or have to tell me that you want to say to spare someone's feelings.  The only way you can be honest with yourself is to write down how you feel, exactly how you’re thinking it.  And then, once it's out of your system, you burn it.  No one else has to know how you really feel."

The idea sounds perfect.  A chance to face my feelings and let them out without anyone knowing.  And maybe some of my anger will be quelled by some form of destruction, I guess.

"Wait, have you done this before?  Won’t it be dangerous?”

Guilt spreads across his features.  “Well, I mean, my therapist recommended it once.”

“...Can I borrow your therapist?”

A week later, Namjoon and I stood outside in a park on a concrete clearing in the dark night.  There was no wind to bother the fire or make a sound.  I huddle close to him, looking at the inked looseleaf in my hand.

The night I wrote these words, I was angry and vulnerable.  Hesitant to start at first, I couldn’t stop myself after the first sentence.  My thoughts barely echoed in my mind as they were reproduced on paper.  The experience was in a limbo between autopilot robotic reproduction and furious out-of-body possession.  The only thing I vaguely remember is how rhythmic the words flowed out of me and the red-tinted vision of me screaming them out into an abyss without consequence.  I couldn't even recall anything I'd written, despite the same insults dangling behind my tongue for days.  I felt lighter, freed, but afraid of what I might've said.  I tucked the paper away without reading it for days.

It wasn't until a few hours earlier that I decided to revisit them.  The person's voice was furious, almost like they were never allowed to speak before, but now they had free reign.  This person was a prisoner standing on their field to be executed and desperate to have their last words heard before they croaked.  Honestly, I would've been repulsed, only pitying them for their terrible decisions and upbringing that led them here.  But these were mine.  I'm the villain who had to take accountability.

I wish I could say I didn't mean them, but I wrote them, my intent is obvious.  At least I can say I'm not proud of them.  I said what I needed to say, now no one needs to see them.  I'm going to let that side of me go.

Namjoon takes the paper from my hand.  "Okay, first time we’re willingly destroying something.”

I raise an eyebrow.  "Why does this sound like something the guys would do?"

He opens his mouth to object, but then closes it.  "It does sound like something Jungkook would do if we left him alone for too long.”  He reaches into his pocket.  “Taehyung let me borrow his lighter."  Giving me a final glance of support, he asks, "You ready?"

I nod, bracing myself.

The moment the lighter turns on, the bottom of the paper erupts into a single brilliant flame, sending my heart into a frenzy at my instant danger reflex.  My body tenses being this close to fire, but I relax as I focus on the bigger, beautiful picture.  A weak halo surrounding us and illuminating the pavement, the spotless paper being consumed quickly, the flames ascending up and leaving charr in its place, the gradient of a blue base bleeding into blinding yellow and white outlined by an orange border.  I watch as my messily scrawled words disappear like a dark curtain sweeping across it, rendering it useless as only the smell of smoke and ash take its place.

I embrace his free arm.  Words wouldn't be enough to describe how grateful I am for him standing by me this entire time, supporting me, being available for me to open up to him, being my safe space, witnessing this with me.

The timeless moment bitterly ends as only a little piece of paper remains and Namjoon releases it into a waiting bucket of water, the last of the paper chars to black, the flame fizzling out into blue until only dark grey smoke remains in the darkness.  I follow the trail up into the night sky as if hoping to catch a glimpse of my words flying away.

"You okay?"  Namjoon whispers, not wanting to disturb the stillness.

I let my body relax.  My chest feels strangely lighter but filled with a newfound relief.  Is this what spiritual cleansing feels like?  The darkness around me is almost dreamlike.  "Yeah," I breathe, allowing myself a moment to come back down.  "I feel much better."  I embrace Namjoon in a tight hug.  "Thank you for this."

My boyfriend plants a kiss on top of my forehead.  "It's the least I can do to help."

As we finally drag ourselves inside, I imagine the paper that's just burned in front of me, the inked words on it already forgotten.  I'm satisfied with letting them go, knowing they can't hurt anyone else and I wasn't attached to them enough to be sad.

Whatever I wrote will be a secret that even I don't know, a secret I set free.

[randompurplepanthergorl]

EW Mains x the Neighbors incorrect quotes because someone needs to keep the quote generator away from me lol

Yeah, this has Edd x Eduardo, Tom x Jon, Matt x Mark and Tord x Todd (My Todd, they're compatible enough) and I stuck their names in a quote generator and copy-pasted the results while tweaking some text

-

Eduardo: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Edd: *steps on Ringo's tail by accident and proceeds to drop to his knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Eduardo: That one. I want that one.

-

Eduardo: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.

Edd: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.

Eduardo: I said within reason, Edd. How about I murder that guy?

Edd: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?

Eduardo: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

-

Jon: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Tom: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

-

Tom: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Jon: I wrote you a poem.

Tom, already crying: You did?

-

Jon: Hey random, what are your favorite flowers?

Tom: Peonies, why?

Jon:

Tom: Were you going to get me flowers?

Jon:

Tom:

Jon: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

-

Jon: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Tom is? Because Tom is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

-

Mark: That was so hot, Matt.

Matt: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Mark: I'm so in love with you.

-

Matt: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out~?

Mark: ...Have you never taken a shower before?

-

Mark: I fell—

Matt: From heaven?

Mark: No, I literally fell—

Matt: In love with me the moment you saw me?

Mark: MY ARM IS BROKEN!

Matt: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

-

Tord: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?

Todd: Aww-

Tord: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

-

Tord: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Todd: Okay.

Tord: And make out during the scary parts.

Todd: Th-

Todd: The scary parts.

Todd: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

-

Todd: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

Tord: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

-

Tord: Do you want to know your gay name?

Todd: My... my gay name?

Tord: Yeah, it's your first name-

Todd: Haha. Very funny Tord-

Tord: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Todd: Oh- oh my god.

-

Todd: Are you sure Tord's even omni? They barely even looked at me.

-

Tord, wearing one of Todd's over shirts which looks like a dress on him: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Todd: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

-

Mark: *is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

Matt: Like its slips on and off really easily.

Mark:

Matt: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Tom: We know what you meant.

-

Jon: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Tom: Oh. We're going out?

Jon: Wh...

-

Edd: From now on we will be using code names.

Edd: You can address me as Eagle One.

Edd: Matt is “been there done that”.

Edd: Mark is “currently doing that”.

Edd: Jon is “it happened once in a dream”.

Edd: Tom is “if I had to pick a dude”.

Edd: And Eduardo is..

Edd: Eagle Two

Eduardo: Oh thank god.

-

Eduardo: Edd kissed me!

Jon: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Eduardo: It was unbelievable!

Person B: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Mark: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Todd, get the wine and unplug the phone. Edu, does this end well or do we need tissues?

Eduardo: Oh, it ended very well.

Jon: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!

Mark: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Eduardo: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Mark: Ohh... So, okay, was he holding you? Or was his hands on your back?

Eduardo: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair.

Todd, Mark and Jon: Ohhh.

*meanwhile*

Edd eating pizza in his, Tom, Matt and Tord's house: And, uh, and then I kissed him.

Tom: Tongue?

Edd: Yeah.

Matt and Tord: Cool.

-

Tord: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do?

Eduardo: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Matt: Tackle xem!

Tom: Dump them.

Jon: Kick them in the shin!

Edd: Jump!

Mark: Ghost him

Todd: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

-

Mark and Matt: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful couple...

Tom: I really care about your feelings!

Jon: I really care about YOUR feelings!

Todd and Tord: ...and then there's the disaster couple...

Eduardo: YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF BEING AT THE HOSPITAL!

Edd: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME AT THE HOSPITAL IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!

-

Edd: What are you getting Mark for the holidays?

Matt: I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your husband when he already got everything he could've ever wanted when he married you. So I'm not sure yet.

Eduardo: I'm getting Mark a divorce lawyer.

-

Eduardo: Edd! I can't do this stupid math!

Edd: What’s the math problem?

Eduardo: Well, we have to add the bed, subtract the clothes divide the legs, and hope we don’t multiply~

Todd, covering Jon's ears, annoyed, while Edd smacks Eduardo upside the head: Not going to lie that was hella smooth.

-

Jon: How is the most beautiful person in the world?

Tom: *blushing* I—

Mark, butting into the conversation: Matt is perfect, thanks for asking.

-

Eduardo: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.

Matt: I sleep with a knife.

Tord: Both of you are pathetic.

Eduardo: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Tord: Todd. :)

[dreamfaller63]

Careful, spoilers🚨

Wow. Just watched Power of the Doctor and I must say while I had my issues with it as I always do with Chibnall's writing I really really enjoyed it. And the ending just broke me. Like sobbed-into-a-tissue broke me.

I genuinely didn't think I wanted 13 to regenerate into David. Right up when the golden light consumed her I hoped we'd see Ncuti (even though I knew in the back of my head that with the timing of the filming and everything it'd be very unlikely).

And then there he was. My doctor. Well, my first doctor. The one who introduced me to this crazy, mad, beautiful universe. The one who found me in a dark time of my life and took my hand and showed me the stars. And I just lost it.

Not that I hadn't already been crying before. Don't know when I started. I think during the scene with the doc and Yaz in the Tardis. It was absolutely gorgeous and Mandip Gill's best performance yet. At the same time a little disappointing. I wasn't ever one of the ones who begged for a Doctor/Yaz kiss because I don't think physical intimacy is always necessary to show depth of emotion but in that scene ... it would have felt right. The way the doctor looked at Yaz, tried to cheer her up by talking about getting ice cream (I'm tearing up again) - it would have fitted there. It wouldn't have felt forced. It would've been perfect. I was literally yelling at the screen "FOR GOD'S SAKE, KISS THE GIRL!!!" But no. Ah well. Still very sweet.

I didn't like Yaz leaving at the end, just bc in the context of the show it didn't make much sense. Rose was there during a regeneration. So was Clara. It wasn't a problem. I think they should've thought of a better in-universe explanation for why Yaz would leave. Or maybe have her say something about how she's in love with this woman in front of her and she can't replace her with anyone. Can't travel with the next doctor bc it's this incarnation specifically that owns her heart. I think we were meant to infer that but imo they should've spelled it out some more.

Omg the support group at the end🤧🤧🤧

There was Jo, one of my favorite classic companions🥰😭

And Ian🤧🤧🤧 Without Barbara😭😭😭

And the doctors we got to see. I literally screamed so loud when One appeared. And then kept screaming. (Omg, Paul McGann on my TV screen!😭😭)

Cause I didn't expect ANY of them. I expected nothing like what we got, it was a proper surprise. Thought they'd all turn up at the 60th in some way. Hopefully they still will.

Anyway, this entry is long enough. I think I have to let all of this sink in a bit before looking more at social media. Inevitably some twitter/youtube trolls will ruin it for me with their endless complaining. Not that I haven't complained about this era. But sometimes other people's opinion can influence our own way too much.

As for now, goodbye Doctor 13. You were amazing. Goodbye Jodie. Thank you for everything.💙💙

[swanimagines]

I love ur work, could I pls request a fic with Kaz Brekker and Hugging for the first time (G13)

EDIT: PLANNING TO REWRITE THIS AT SOME POINT BECAUSE THIS IS OOC AND I'M ASHAMED XD

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

A/N: Thank you for the compliment, you're so sweet!!

Ok so I have to put this one out because I needed to write a Kaz fic for my birthday and because I'm HYPERRRRR right now because of tomorrow and inspiration just flows???

The idea for this was surprisingly easy to make up, but the execution was… difficult. Kaz is a very difficult character for any fluff, you know? I love him so much and would like to give him the biggest hug if he'd accept it but that man is hard to write for and still I feel like I want to write all the fics for him right now XD Is it masochistic??? Don't know but I really enjoy writing for Kaz despite it being hard. Missed that feeling after a year of not having a proper character crush. But I hope you still like it!!

Warnings: death of family members, gore, angst, hurt/comfort?? Had to have a good reason for Kaz to feel the need to hug someone so have a bunch of reasons.

Word count: 605

“They’re dead.” you heard your voice say. It didn’t have any emotion. Your eyes were teary and you were holding a tissue in your hand, but you didn’t feel any emotion. Just endless numbness. Seeing your family slaughtered into their house flashed through your mind over and over again with no end in sight. All you could see was them scattered around the house. Your father had been shot right after opening the door, his brains splattered to the wall. Your big brother still having a kitchen knife in his hand in an attempt to fight back, to protect your mother and little sister. They had fled to kitchen, and Inej had pulled you away before you saw them, indicating it would be too hard to see for you.

You swallowed, sitting on an armchair in Kaz’s office where he had invited you to calm down.

He wasn’t a therapist, he didn’t know how to comfort with words. He had already ordered Inej to track down those people who murdered your family, but that’s the most he could do, at least he felt like that. He should be able to do more, caring about you more than others. It pained him to see you miserable like that.

You stood up from the armchair, wanting to scream that you wanted to kill those people personally, that you wanted to make them suffer, but you weren’t like that. You were more like a planner, your mind exploring every nook and fault plans had. You were extraordinary in it, and now someone had tried to break you down.

For the first time in many, many years he wanted to reach out to you, hold on to you until you’d feel better, but he didn’t know if he was ready. What if he would push you away after you’d accept the sentiment, making you feel even worse?

But with a deep inhale, he stepped in front of you and looked at you slowly breaking to sobs. He had to do something, he couldn’t bear to see you like that. So he closed his eyes and slowly reached out.

And then you felt an arm slowly wrapping around your shoulders and a chin pressed against the top of your head.

He was hugging you.

The hug was stiff and awkward, but the thought mattered. You didn’t dare to hug back, but let yourself lean against Kaz for a bit before slowly backing up, wiping your eyes and offering him a small smile.

“Thank you.” you muttered, your voice still raspy but your mood a bit lighter. It wasn’t an everyday thing for Kaz to hug people, in fact you were fairly sure he would never be ready. But seeing your pain and knowing it was partly because you were one of the Dregs… it made him feel guilty. He was the one who recruited you in the first place after all. And even though Jesper or Inej could have comforted you better without being awkward, you felt a connection with Kaz. You had always felt that connection. You didn’t know how to explain it, it just... was there.

Kaz nodded, sighing. “You should rest.”

You nodded too, making your way to the door and glancing at Kaz just before opening it, again smiling slightly at him.

He just watched you exit the door, before he closed his eyes for a bit. Having you pressed against him had his head screaming to let go, sure, but… it wasn’t something he wouldn’t be ready to do again if you needed it.

If it made you feel better, it would be worth it.

Tags: @musicallisto

[ketsueki-writes]

Can I also request for ‘open up to me’ for Dabi and Shigaraki please! Sweet! With tinge of angst? Thank you!

This is kind of long- so I put a read more, should I do this more often?

WARNINGS: FAMILY DEATH (Not by Yandere's hand)

♡ Dabi

He sat in front of you, seemingly cold and unkind. He was a villain, this had to be some kind of plot. A long plot that is, it had been months now. How sick someone had to be to do all of the things he did out of love. There was no love, there couldn't be right? He sat there, eyeing you with bright blue eyes, a contrast from his darkened frame and build.

He looked as if he were thinking about something, wanting to ask you something maybe? You were thinking too. Thinking you weren't what he wanted, he had to have kidnapped you for something, but what would you have. It's not like you were a hero, you were just a regular civilian, what information could you possibly have? Maybe it wasn't information, maybe it was something else.

However you were convinced it wasn't love.

The dark haired cremator sat in front of you, the distance between the two of you too short for comfort. He was confused, you followed his rules so he didn't have to punish you. Maybe you were scared, maybe he looked like a monster? You ate well, slept when told, he took proper care of you. Taking better care of you than anyone else- so what was the issue here?

Why didn't you trust him.

He leaned forward, not touching you but staring intensely into your eyes. "Why don't you open up to me?" he said, his voice softer, less gravel added to it. You were taken aback, this is what he wanted. You searched your mind for an answer. "Open up to you?" you finally answered.

"Tell me what you're feeling, I'm obviously shit at reading your mind."

This wasn't love right, this couldn't be. Then why did he care so much.

♡ Shigaraki

You didn't want to find out this way that your father died.

It was on the news, he was an important person after all. He was shown with smiling images of him, his accomplishments, etc. But he was gone. You're mother, who was begged for an interview, was videoed walking out of the funeral, a man holding her side as she sobbed into a tissue, rushing to her car. Your heart broke, how could it not. Sure they were not perfect, but you weren't there for this tragedy. And even worse-

they thought you were dead.

You pulled a sofa pillow close to you, clutching into the cushion as you buried your head into the fabric. Small sniffles left your now shaking body as you tried to silence your sobs, the tears rolling into the softness of the pillows. It felt hopeless. All you wanted to do was find a way out before it was too late.

But now, now it was too late.

You knew by now you were never getting free, you were never getting your old life back, you were never going to ever be that old girl ever again. And now a piece of you was gone, and you couldn't even say goodbye. You sobbed, your nose runny and you could feel your eyes getting red before you felt three fingers wrap around your wrists. You looked up, sniffing as you wiped away your tears.

"What wrong?" the blue haired villain said. His eyes were sunken looking at you in despair. You shook your head, not saying anything and turning away from him. You felt him put a fourth finger around your wrist, tugging your arm to turn you back to him. He was frustrated, the look on his face couldn't say otherwise. You winced, why would he care anyway? It's not like it mattered.

He was selfish, not letting you live your life just so he could have you. That's what he wanted anyway, so why would he give a fuck about your feelings.

You shook your head again, turning around again. He was shocked to say the least, you usually did as you were told, but now that you're showing emotion you won't listen to him? He clenched his teeth, dropping your wrist before moving in front of you, moving right in front of you as his voice grew high and impatient.

"Why won't you open up to me?" he shouted, his tone begging for an answer. Your eyes widened looking at him. Looking into his dry eyes-

were those tears?

wanna play the game? join here

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[imeternallylove]

Hi if you still want request can I request a reader and Sherlock have been married for several years and they solve a case together and the reader dies in a case. Thanks a lot

oh how sad :C

have to remind. i listen all too well(10 mins) by taylor all day!

shall we go now?

Sherlock x Reader

words: 987 words

summary: Y/N's death

"Y/N Y/LN Holmes pronounced dead at the Southern Bridge Lot, on Baker Street, on 16/11/21, at midnight exactly. She wasn't just my wife. She was my partner, my friend. My flatmate and my lover... She's gone --It... It hurts without her on my team, in my life. It hurts the most that she's not beside me. She was so young, too young, just 29. I admired her from the moment John brought her into the flat. We had our moments. We had our fallouts, but we always recovered with love to bring us back together. She-."

---------------------

Sherlock stomped into flat 221B, throwing the door and locking the locks. He threw off his coat, screeching as loud as possible. Tears ran down his face as he had his back to the wall, slowly slinking down to the floor, bringing his chest to his knees, sobbing. Mrs. Hudson put him to her embrace, but not enough. He slowly pushed himself back up, stumbling and limping towards the bathroom medicine cabinet. He pulled out a small box of nicotine patches, grabbed a handful, wobbling back to the living room sofa.

Sherlock collapsed on the sofa, pulling down his cries as he uncovered off the plastic backing of the patches, slapping four of them on his left arm. He laid back slowly, tears still streaming down his cheeks, his breathing delayed and faint. He shut his eyes and pondered through his memories.

5 years ago,

"Hello. You must be Y/N Y/L/N. John told me much. I assume you know who I am."

"Hello. Err, no. Sorry, I don't think I do.." You grabbed the luggage, but this man pulled it, leading you inside your new flat. "I'll take this." He beams. You just give him a soft smile following. "Thank you."

"You don't know who I am? Seriously?"

"Not at all..." You spoke, taking out a desk lamp, setting it on the desk, and plugging it in to illuminate the room. Looking around the modern bedroom. Then. He extends a hand, "Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes." You took his hand and shook it as he grinned, as you gave a tiny smile back.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes."

"Oh, just Sherlock, indeed."

3 years ago,

Sherlock, back from the dead. He sat there alone in the cab, baffled, letting idiocy cabbie take his mind to different places. The tissue crumb in his hand to dab the blood because John knocked him. Another, beyond his mind palace, beyond England, from Marylebone Road beyond Baker Street. Sherlock leaned his head on the window, letting the cool glass calm his thought. He sighed intensely and exited the cab, leaning into the driver's window and handing him the proper amount owed. He turned around to see the door of 221 Baker Street open to reveal a woman in a pair of red boots, a navy short dress, his long gray coat and, his blue scarf on her neck. It's Y/N.

"God's Sake!"

Later, John and Mary's wedding four months. Everything went well. You and Sherlock are a lover now. He coughed into his fist as he stepped back to the sofa, getting on a knee, holding out the box, "Y/N Y/L/N, I've known you for almost three years. These of great incredible years. Y/N. Everyone told me I'm insane, I'm heartless, but you changed it all. You taught me everything I wouldn't have ever seen. And-- To get to the point, I'm saying... I... I want you in my life eternally. I know we already do that every day. But I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?" He said as opens the small black box, revealing a silver wedding ring. "I want you to say yes. Also."

You laughed while tears rolled down your faces as you fell forward out of the sofa to embrace this man, Sherlock, in your arms tightly. You nodded, sat upon Sherlock's bare stomach, still completely naked with a bedsheet over you. "My answer is yes." He chuckled and took your hand, putting a ring on your middle finger.

10 hours ago,

You ran as fast as you could through the empty field, being hunted by a man clothed in black. You screamed, cried with terror as he started to shoot you. First your shoulder, then your left forearm. You kept muffled sobbing from the pain, the blood of yours draining round the bullet hole. The black-clothed-man shot one more time... In your back, causing you to fall over the ground.

4 hours ago,

Nothing could help you. It was only silenced around the empty lot with your breath was so slow down in minutes. The sound of cars parked the sound of losing your life. Sherlock grabbed a revolver tightly locked into his hand wasn't hesitant to shoot the man, so he did. He kills the black-clothed man in the first shot. He then proceeded to run to your side, screaming for the paramedics to help him...

But you were long gone, long lost... Nothing could ever save you from the impending death that waited for you.

---------------------

Now

'Central London Christian Church'

"Y/N Y/LN Holmes pronounced dead at the Southern Bridge Lot, on Baker Street, on 16/11/21, at midnight exactly. She wasn't just my wife. She was my partner, my friend. My flatmate and my lover... She's gone --It... It hurts without her on my team, in my life. It hurts the most that she's not beside me. She was so young, too young, just 29. I admired her from the moment John brought her into the flat. We had our moments. We had our fallouts, but we always recovered with love to bring us back together. She-." Sherlock began to weep out, "I'm- I'm so sorry, I can't do this." He said with tears on his face. John helps Sherlock sit down in the front pew, letting John speak for you after Sherlock.

[wellthatsjustpeachyhuh]

Heyo! Could I request headcannons for the sides being like "I'm proud of you" and the reader kinda just breaking down because they've never been told that? If not, that's fine though! Have an amazing day/night/etc. :)

Babe, I'm a sucker for that shit so I would be delighted

Roman

I'm thinking you came up with an awesome idea and executed it well, and wow Roman's proud of how beautifully you did

He tells you as much, and while he didn't expect the breakdown well...he gets it. He gets so few compliments, he understands how overwhelming it can be when you finally receive them

He'd sweep you into his arms and positively shower you with praise and love, tell you every little thing he adores about you, how you're so smart and spectacular and he's honoured to know you

He make sure in the future to tell you more often how proud he is, and take time to listen to all your ideas and see if he can help

Logan

You just got an exam result back and even though you'd been very stressed, the results were better than expected. Logan offers you his congratulations as well as telling you he's proud - he knows how hard you tried, and even if you hadn't done well he'd still be proud of how much effort you put in

He's very startled when you start sobbing but is quick to assure you that all is well, the stress has passed and now you can relax

You may get a very awkward shoulder pat if you want physical comfort, or he'll go get Patton if you need a proper hug

Now every time he congratulates you on something he makes sure to carry tissues, just in case

Patton

Honestly, you could breathe and he'd tell you he's proud, but the first time he praised you well...you weren't used to it

It was probably the first time you were confident or asked for something without being prompted - the first time you came outta your shell a little, he's so proud of you!!

The second the first tear falls he's scooped you up in a big bear hug and babbling out affirmations and trying to give you cookies, then squirrel you away for a few hours to cuddle and watch movies

After that, he always makes sure to check in on you and make sure you know he's proud

Virgil

He's not really one for praise, but the first time he told you how proud he was happened after you had a panic attack

He talked you through it and afterwards gave you a glass of water and told you he was proud of how well you handled it, and with how emotionally exhausted you were you couldn't help breaking down a little

He started panicking a bit and just...throws his hoodie at you since he's not much of a hugger, and asks if you need him to get something or someone

He'll sit with you until you've calmed down and give you an extremely awkward talk about how they're all proud of you, and makes more of an effort to have the feelings talks with you

Janus

He originally said it mockingly but realised you seemed upset by that, to which he dropped the act to tell you he genuinely is proud of you. He didn't understand why that seemed to upset you more

He starts making to go get Patton, who is obviously more equipped to deal with this, but stops when you ask him to stay with you

He'll let you wear his hat anytime you're sad now, and even though he's still not really sure how to help you he'll try his best

Remus

Remus is very familiar with not getting praise, so takes it seriously when you burst into tears

He'll ramble on for hours about all the amazing things you've done and how cool and special you are, because that's everything he's wanted someone else to do for him

You'll get the weirdest praise from him but oddly it's the most comforting, and if you want a distraction he'll come up with gross funny stories to make you laugh

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

Hi!!! I've just gotten my wisdom teeth removed and I'm emotional wrecked. Who knew I would miss those little shits? Anyway, could you maybe write something short about Y/n having her wisdom teeth removed and being super sad and in pain and Harry is just there to help her feel better? I love your writing and honestly read all of your work twice at the least. ILY

ANESTHESIA AND LETTING GO

(She would stare at him like he was god’s single greatest gift to humanity.)

“You’re gonna take care of me?” she garbled, gaping so he could see the gauze squished into her mouth and a little bit of blood trickling out of the recent incisions. He tried both not laughing or wincing, but couldn’t help an endeared little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at her genuinely awed expression, as if she couldn’t believe he was actually there. Thsy’d had to remind her a few times that he was her boyfriend, which worried him a bit at first—he reckoned he’d watched The Vow a few too many times.

“Yes, lovie,” he’d rasped, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest as he brushed away a lock of hair that was dangling dangerously close to her open mouth. This seemed to cheer her up, because she made a contented little cooing noise, the kind you would expect to come from a woodland creature or a baby, before nuzzling her cheek against his knuckles, gazing up at him shyly while blushing a bit. The older dentist in the room had sighed wistfully while passing by for her post-operative check-up, while her younger assistant sniffed jealously. Loopy from drugs or not, y/n took one look at the woman’s lustful gaze on harry’s bottom and glared at her fiercely, mouth full of gauze. He’d said he was her boyfriend, hadn’t he? That made her his girlfriend and thus perfectly eligible to grab his...

“Oh!” Harry yelped in surprise when y/n’s hands reached behind him and greedily squeezed a handful of his bubbly bottom, a gesture usually performed the other way round, not that he was protesting.

“She’s a bit loopy,” Harry explained sheepishly, a little pink in the cheeks, to the dental assistant, who was now huffing and sneering down at her clipboard. y/n simply batted her eyelashes, mouth still wide open, while Harry gently placed her hands down and she sneakily let them travel down his back and then deliver a firm smack to his backside.

“I can see that,” the assistant muttered darkly. She stuck her nose up in the air, and marched out of the room.

Satisfied that her nemesis was out of the picture, y/n settled back into the chair politely and thought back to what Harry had said before about how he was gonna take care of her and how the smooth planes of his perfectly sculpted face had felt against her cheek; thoughts that once again send blood rushing to her cheeks, and send her into a fit of cute giggles, staring up at the ceiling but not particularly anything as she does so with fingers pressed slightly to her puffy lips.

“Proper spanked me in front of the dental assistant only moments ago, love, and now you’re goin’ all blushy on me,” Harry teased lowly, his own dimple poking out as this sent his girlfriend into even louder giggles, ones that she covered with her hands.

After leaving the dentist’s office, however, things had quickly taken a turn for the worse once the drugs slowly exited y/n’s system. dental pain is quite arguably one of the most excruciating pains to exist on the face of this planet. especially if you’re the one going through it. and besides the physical pain...y/n seemed to be having some attachment issues to her teeth, as well.

“...Harry?” y/n whimpered, curling further into her boyfriend’s chest and looking dolefully up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. His forest green eyes flitted to hers in surprise of her sudden wakefulness. She’d been silent most of the car ride back, after ten minutes of initial happiness and humming his songs loudly under her breath. Once they were back home, she’d clung to his side, and he had to carry her up the steps to their flat, bridal style, because she was kind of flopping all over the place, but he didn’t mind an excuse to hold her so close to him. He helped her into a jersey that smelled just like him to comfort her while she was still neurotically out of it, her cheek squished to his chest while he put Tiger King on Netflix, but admittedly paid more attention to he, looking down every now and then to see a deep-set frown on her fresh face.

“What is it, baby?” he asked. She decided he loved his voice as he talked to her like this, because it was low and pleasant and he took his time saying each word, so it rolled off his tongue like syrup with authenticity and an accent that knew no exact heritage, but Harry. His green eyes were attentive, fingers stroking down her back. “do you need anything?”

“I hurt,” she sniffled, lips trembling. He pouted in response, turning over so he could hold her properly, hips melding together.

“‘M sorry. Do you want more medicine?”

“No,” she said indignantly, like it was obviously not what she would want.

“You sure?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raising. “I thought it hurt?”

“Not that,” she shook her head, eyes shifting to her nervously twisting fingers heartbreakingly. her lips trembled a bit, and Harry grew alarmed. He was him, so he’d naturally spent hours on WebMd, reading up on the side-effects of even such a common procedure as wisdom teeth removal. Had the dentist damaged the crowns of any other teeth? had she hurt y/n’s gums? what if—

“What’s wrong then, hm?”

“I— I just...” she burst into tears, sobs breaking as she choked out an explanation. In a hushed voice, she confessed: “I miss my wisdom teeth!”

He blinked once. Twice.

“You...” he paused. “Miss your teeth?”

y/n nodded, big eyes filling with tears again at the mention of her long departed acquaintances.

“Like...they were always there for me, you know?” she garbled, tears slipping down her face as Harry frantically tries to swipe them off her cheeks with his own thumbs, while also confirming that his girlfriend has, indeed, finally lost it.

“I mean,” Y/N took a deep breath before diving into a heartfelt monologue dedicated to her teeth. “I could be going through the worst day ever, and i could be a total bitch and most people would probably leave, but my teeth never left me. and like, they never even wanted to leave and they were always there, but I never even tried to make them feel wanted,” she sniffled, blinking back tears dramatically while Harry rubbed the small of her back, handing her a tissue she blew her nose into. “I know that humans don’t need them to chew on raw animals anymore, but...can you imagine how that feels?” She empathized, emotion in her voice, “to constantly be there for this total bitch and then she just wakes up one day and feels a pinch in her mouth—“

“Not a pinch,” Harry muttered defensively, recalling Y/N screaming bloody murder the night before, but unsure as to why he’s defending her from...her.

“—and decides to tear them apart, evicting from the only place they’ve ever really known. I didn’t even say goodbye, and it makes my heart sad,” Y/N aid so defeatedly, it kind of breaks Harry’s heart, too.

“And you know the worst thing,” she whispered brokenly: “they never even saw it coming.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” he stated, wiping away her tears delicately, watching her face until each one was gone, a bare sniffle the only reminder she’d been crying. “I love you too much to let you do this to yourself. We’re gonna watch a rom-com, and...”

“But, I never even named them!” she gasped wetly. He ignored her as she murmured alejandro, wisdom the wisdom tooth, and other potential names for her deceased teeth; while simultaneously contemplating if she could break into the dentist’s dustbin and maybe sneak back her teeth.

But when the day comes to an end and the drugs are flushed out of Y/N’s system, Harry takes care of her. He makes sure Y/N’s getting enough water and eating well; sets a timer to wake her up from her naps and feed her the bitter medicine her scowl suggests she wouldn’t take if it weren’t for him. He would make sure to replace her gauze even if she’s a bit squirmy from all the blood in her mouth, and most definitely wouldn’t be stingy when it came to cuddling; squeezing her so tight with his strong arms, trying his best to minimize the pain as much as possible. that meant pressing light kisses to her puffy cheeks. When she’d be up from an aching mouth, he’d be the one putting his hand under her jaw, massaging lightly, to help relieve some of the ache. He make sure her food was soft and the right consistency, and hold back her hair when Y/N’d inevitably puke from the taste of her medicine, or soothingly rub his warm hand over her back when she was tremoring from the anesthesia leaving her freezing.

“Are you staying?” Y/N asked in the morning, yawning as Harry pulled her up to his chest, stroking her hair.

“Yes,” he nodded, lips pressed to the side of her forehead. “Unless you want me to go.”

Because like her wisdom teeth, Harry would never let go.

MASTERLIST

[emptywritings]

a lil combo for my friend that is having a hard time rn “Crying is not a sign of weakness. It just shows that you’ve been trying to be strong for too long”“I believe in you”“Come here, let’s cuddle” with host and a very tired GN!reader pls?

Some days were nothing but shit. Sometimes it build up, event after event until it became too much. Sometimes it came out of nowhere, any random thing suddenly pushing you off the edge into the endless void. Sometimes it dragged on for days, sometimes it turned into weeks. Sometimes it was just a couple of hours. Nevermind why, nevermind for how long, it never got any easier. Life was just so tiring. You wish it would be easier, that things would just... turn out okay tomorrow. But you knew that life wasn't easy, and life was simply testing you over and over, torturing you as if beating you up would make you stronger somehow.

You sniffed, frustrated and angry and upset. You hated crying. Crying was for weak people, for the ones who were helpless. You weren't weak, and you weren't helpless, but here you were, reduced to tears from nothing but your own feelings. "It's okay.", it was Host who found you, gently rubbing your back, letting you lean against him. Host always found you in the end, he'd always be there no matter what happened. "Crying is okay. You're not weak for crying. You've been strong for so long.", Host murmured softly, letting you cling to his coat, burying into his chest, letting the tears out with sobs and sniffs.

"It's so much... I don't know what to do..", your voice was heavy with tears, speech interrupted by sniffling. "I can't...". "You can.", Host reassured you, arms wrapped around your trembling form. "I believe in you.".

Host let you cry until your tears stopped, offering you tissues until your nose stopped running and you could breathe again. Crying always left you tired, exhausted mentally and physically. "Let's cuddle proper, alright?", Host murmured softly, gently picking you up to carry you somewhere more comfortable. Now wasn't a good time to talk about all that troubled you, and both of you were aware of that. You could barely think properly, and you'd likely start crying again if you continued thinking about everything. "I'm here with you, and for you.", Host murmured softly, letting you curl into him, be small and protected by his larger form.

[fighterkimburgess]

⭐!!!

See the issue here is you have like prime directors commentary on basically all of my fics. So I'm going back to the first burzek-ish fic I ever wrote, Glass Walls, which is a Trudy POV of the night Kim miscarried, and her at the hospital for a while to check in on Kim and Adam. I think these are my favourite lines from it.

“I wish I’d met Randy twenty years ago. I know we knew of each other, but we never spent time together. I wish I could have given him a child. But even with that, I realised when I got the call I have a kid who I love a lot. I’m so incredibly proud of you, Burgess. You never let anything stand in your way. You came back after being shot and you went back to patrol because you wanted to. You could have used that shooting to rise up the ranks but you did it the proper way. This wasn’t your time to have a child, and that’s ok. But it will be your time.”

Kim sobbed in her arms, barely believing what she said. Trudy just held her tight, wiping her eyes with the nearby tissues and holding her close.

“I’m so scared, Trudy.” Platt’s heart grew a size when she realised it was the first time Burgess used her first name. “He says he doesn’t blame me, but I killed our baby. It was my fault. Mine.”

“Shush, don’t you even think that. Burgess, you should have died five years ago. I was sitting in the precinct getting the black bands out, waiting for the call that you’d died. I saw the toll that took on the man who loves you, watching you lose everything. You survived that, and you’ll survive this. And in a few weeks or months, you’ll look back on this and you’ll smile because you survived. You’ll always remember this baby and how loved they were. Just because you don’t have a living child doesn’t mean you’re not a Mom. You chose this baby and you loved them and their daddy loved them. You can do this.”

I'd burned through so much Chicago PD, and the relationship Trudy has with Adam, Kim and Kev has always intrigued me. Kim has always been her favourite, but after the hugs she's given Kev and Adam it's clear she's adopted the three as her own. I always wondered, what was her reaction to the news? She was the first one to know Kim was pregnant. The first one to get the news. Did she cry? Did she see Kim? Did she leave Kim to grieve alone? Did she check in on Kim and Adam without them even knowing? And this kind of just poured out of me in an evening. It's one of my favourite things I've written, and the conversation between Mouch and Trudy is one I love too.