#it’s not even halfway through the day yet

[latin5mamii]

5:42 am

genre: JudeBellingham x you; cute and fluff

summary: After a whole night of no-sleep, you decide to help your boyfriend forget about his overthinking for once.

author's note: Cute and fluffy! Didn't want to make it too depressing so i added a bit of humor; i know this is work is unexpected but i'm getting a lot of inspiration rn!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

The world is still asleep when Jude wakes, moving with the careful precision of someone practiced in not disturbing the peace. His hand reaches for his phone on the bedside table, and he shifts cautiously to sit up on the edge of the bed.

The room is dark save for the faint blue light creeping through the curtains, a soft haze that makes everything feel slower, quieter.

He doesn’t hear you stir behind him.

The mattress dips slightly as you roll over, and he freezes. For a second, he thinks you’ll fall back asleep, but your voice—soft and warm like the blankets tangled around you—breaks the silence.

"You're already up"

It’s not a question, and there’s no frustration in your tone—just a quiet understanding. Before every match, he could never sleep. He’d toss and turn, get up for water, but he could never settle—especially now, with so much to think about.

Jude glances over his shoulder, a little sheepish as he meets your sleepy gaze.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs. His voice is a whisper, rough from the early hour.

“You didn’t.” You stretch slightly, the movement slow and lazy. “You never do.”

He smiles at that—small, almost imperceptible in the low light. You sit up halfway, leaning on your elbow as you watch him tug on a sweatshirt over his T-shirt.

“Don’t go just yet,” you say, voice still quiet but carrying a softness that stops him mid-motion. “Come back here for a minute; you have so much time left. ”

Jude doesn't hesitate even for a second as soon as he sees you—still cocooned in blankets, your hair messy and your eyes heavy-lidded but bright. It’s not a hard choice, not really.

He slips back into bed without a word, settling beside you. Your arm loops around his waist instinctively, and he leans into it, letting his head rest against yours.

The silence in the room is thick but comforting, punctuated only by the faint hum of the world outside—a car passing, the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Jude’s breathing evens out as he melts into your embrace, the tension in his shoulders softening. You run your hand gently along his back, tracing patterns you don’t think about but that he seems to feel, leaning into each movement.

“You think too much,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but close enough that he hears it.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his arm drapes over you, pulling you closer. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel him exhale deeply, as if the weight of what you said has settled somewhere in his chest.

“I just want to get it right,” he murmurs, finally. The words are small but heavy, like they’ve been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days.

“You always do.”

The response is automatic, and you mean it—every syllable. You wish you could pull his thoughts away, fold it neatly into something manageable. But for now, all you can do is hold him.

Jude pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. The dim light softens his features—his dark eyes are wide, thoughtful, his lips parted as if he’s about to say something but decides against it.

“You okay?” you ask, brushing a hand through his hair, which is still slightly messy from sleep.

Jude lingers in the embrace a moment longer, his face tucked against the curve of your neck, the warmth of your skin drawing out a softness he didn’t realize he needed. But when he finally shifts, there’s something lighter in his expression. He nudges his nose against your cheek, playful, and murmurs,

“You’ve turned me into a morning person, you know.”

You laugh, low and easy, your fingers pausing in his hair to tap lightly against the side of his head. “I don’t think you get to claim that title until you actually enjoy mornings, Jude.”

He pulls back enough to look at you, an exaggerated pout forming on his lips. “What if I just enjoy mornings with you?”

“That’s sweet,” you tease, your smile brightening the dim room. “But you still groan every time the alarm goes off, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“Details.” He grins, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before sitting up. The bed shifts under his weight, and you watch as he stretches, the hem of his sweatshirt riding up slightly. The sight makes you laugh—something about the way his early-morning dishevelment feels so ordinary and yet so utterly him.

He glances over his shoulder at you, catching the amused tilt of your smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, though the laughter still dances in your voice. “You’re just...cute like this.”

His ears turn a little pink, and he rubs the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s make some coffee before you embarrass me even more.”

“Embarrass you? Never,” you shoot back, but you’re already sitting up, tossing the blankets aside. The cool air hits your skin, and you shiver slightly, reaching for the oversized sweater draped over the chair beside the bed. Jude is already standing, holding a hand out to help you up.

The two of you move quietly even though you're alone in the house, the soft shuffle of your steps the only sound. Jude goes straight to the counter, pulling out the coffee beans and the grinder.

“You want tea, right?” he asks over his shoulder, already reaching for the kettle.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, leaning against the counter and watching him. He moves with a kind of easy precision, his focus shifting between the coffee and the kettle like it’s a little morning ritual he’s perfected. You can’t help but smile—it’s a far cry from the nerves that had him tossing and turning earlier.

“What’s funny now?” he asks, catching your expression as he sets the kettle to boil.

“Just you,” you say, your voice light. “All serious about coffee like it’s a science.”

“It is a science,” he replies, mock-indignant. “And you’re lucky I’m good at it, or you’d be stuck drinking whatever shit they call coffee down the street.”

“Oh yeah?” you shoot back, barely suppressing a laugh. “Says the guy who puts honey in his coffee.

Jude shakes his head, chuckling as he stirs the honey into his mug. “Is it that bad?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, fighting back a grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t say bad. Just...no okay it's actually bad.”

Jude groans dramatically, hand over his heart as if your words wounded him. “Wow. First thing in the morning, and you’re already coming for me.”

After a moment, you set your mug down and glance at him. “What do you want for breakfast? Or are we just surviving on caffeine today?”

Jude’s lips curve into a small, thoughtful smile. “Surviving on caffeine sounds very me,” he admits. Then, after a beat, he straightens and adds, “But pancakes sound better.”

“Pancakes?” you say, arching a brow. “Aren't you the man who claims he doesn’t need breakfast?”

“I’m evolving,” he says, feigning a look of mock importance. “Also, I think we have chocolate chips in the pantry.”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Chocolate chip pancakes at dawn? I really am impressed.”

He nudges your side playfully, grinning. “Come on, let’s do it. We’ll make them quick. I’ll even let you flip them.”

“Generous of you,” you tease, already moving toward the pantry.

The only sounds are the soft clatter of bowls and utensils as the two of you work together, gathering ingredients and mixing the batter. Jude insists he’s got the perfect pancake recipe memorized, but you end up adding a little extra milk to the bowl when he’s not looking, just to mess with him.

“What did you just do?” he asks, squinting at you suspiciously as you stir.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, biting back a grin. “Just making sure it’s not too thick.”

He narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t argue, instead grabbing a ladle and heating the pan. “Alright, let’s see how this goes.”

The first pancake comes out a little lopsided, and you burst into laughter as Jude flips it onto a plate with exaggerated precision.

“Hey,” he says, pointing the spatula at you, “it’s not about how it looks—it’s about how it tastes.”

“Sure, Chef Jude,” you reply, still laughing as you lean against the counter, watching him pour the next one.

The second pancake is better—golden brown and perfectly round—and by the time the stack is finished, the kitchen smells like warm batter and melted chocolate. Jude sets the plate on the table with a triumphant flourish, and you grab two forks, sliding into a chair beside him.

Jude nudges your foot under the table, catching your eye as he chews his first bite.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning.

You smile back, warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the pancakes. “Not bad at all.”

You pause eating and carefully set the little fork down on your plate. Looking at him, you offer a gentle smile, hoping to ease the weight of the long night.

“You’re going to do great today. I just know it.”

He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing your nose and then your cheek. After a moment, his hand settles softly on yours.

"I hope your predictions are right, then"

[w1ld-wr1t3r]

could you write a cute lil drabble of reader who has anxiety (could be general or maybe something specific like being in a car) x lando norris and lando is a big comfort to the reader and then one day after a bad race the reader gets to be a comfort to him (i imagine their love language to be physical touch)!

Normally I don't like to write reader inserts, but I like this prompt so I'll give it a try just this once!

The greatest comfort in your life was Lando. He was one of the only ones who understood you, who understood what you went through. He never judged you when your anxiety got bad. He would just hold you close and whisper comforts in your ear, until you felt like yourself again.

Your anxiety often struck when you least expected it, snowballing from slight nerves to nearly immobilizing fear before you could stop it. You were more likely to have an attack when you were stressed, be it about work or your relationship or even just life in general. Lando was one of the only ones who had never made you feel bad about having anxiety, and he'd always done his best to help you through it, even when he'd been scared of doing something wrong. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

It wasn't often that you had to return the favor. He was so strong, taking steps to preserve his mental health and facing everything thrown at him with confidence. He wasn't immune to anxiety, but it struck him so infrequently that you hadn't had a chance yet to take care of him the way he'd always taken care of you. You would never wish for it to happen, never, but you did wish that you could show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

That time came unexpectedly after a wet race where things went completely to shit.

You'd nearly had to leave the garage halfway through the race, so anxious that you were almost vibrating out of your skin. Lando had had horrible luck today, ranging from a poorly-timed pit stop to caught in the crossfire of not one but two separate incidents on track. When a Williams collided with him on lap 42 and knocked him out of the race for good, you only breathed a sigh of relief because at least it was over now, and you didn't have to watch him try not to die out there any more.

You knew he would be upset, of course. Who wouldn't be after a race like that? You knew you had some of his favorite comfort meals on hand, and were ready to pull one of them out when you got home and start cooking. The activity would help calm your own nerves, and familiar food would hopefully lift his spirits, too.

But when you got back to your room, he was already there, and he was already crying.

You froze for a moment as you took in the scene before you. He wasn't just crying, you realized, he was sobbing. He was huddled on the sofa, curled into a ball and head in his shaking hands. Three different hoodies were strewn around him, like he'd been trying to find something comfortable and soothing to wear but nothing had done the trick. And he hadn't even changed out of his fireproofs. He must have come straight here as soon as he was free, too broken and upset to face anyone.

"Lando?" you asked cautiously, walking closer to him. He didn't stop crying, but didn't move away as you carefully sat next to him. "Are you -"

You cut yourself off before you finished the question. Of course he wasn't okay. Why ask the question when the answer was already obvious?

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked instead. You itched to pull him into your arms and hold him, hug him tight until the tension finally left him and he felt safe again. You wanted to ask what had made him cry, but you knew he probably wouldn't be able to tell you now, not while he was sobbing his eyes out and breathing little hiccupping breaths. You had a theory, though, that it was because he felt like he'd let everyone down today and was a failure. You wanted to tell him that that wasn't true, that he'd done amazing today, even with all of the odds stacked against him. He'd been so strong all day, and it was okay if he needed to cry now. You just wanted to help him through it.

Without looking up at you or saying anything, he leaned closer to you, reaching out with a whine. You understood what he wanted immediately, and tugged him to your chest for a hug. He sobbed into your shirt, burrowing into your arms until he felt like he was safe.

"Don't let me go," he whispered, sniffling. "P-please don't let me go."

You hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. "I won't," you promised. "I'm here."

He settled deeper into your arms, clutching you like a lifeline. You continued to hold him, gently rubbing his back and occasionally whispering soothing words to him. You weren't anxious about the day's events at all any more - you were just glad that you could be here to help him through this.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sniffled and whispered. "Th-thank you. I love you."

You smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

You two had each other. And you were going to be okay.

[peachdues]

Work has been kicking my ass the last couple of weeks, so I haven’t really had time to write. This is all I’ve got for y’all right now 🤍

Lovers of Compass!Sanemi and Reader discussing books, rejoice. They’re still a couple of fucking nerds (no matter how horny)

It’s almost one in the morning when your phone buzzes.

A message; one from the only person you text, who also happens to be your favorite. On your screen is a picture of the front cover of the book you’d given Sanemi before he left the day before; beneath it, the chat bubble signals he’s sending a follow up.

You caught up yet? Sanemi’s text reads.

You toss your own book to the side, straightening up in bed. Though no one is around to see, a smile unfurls across your lips and your thumbs hurry across your phone’s keyboard.

How far are you?

Sanemi’s reply is instant. Halfway. Can’t finish tonight but I’ve got a few things I need to discuss right the fuck now.

You glance at the time. It’s nearing one-thirty, and your alarm is set for six. Dragging yourself out of bed after less than five hours of sleep is a kind of stupidity you know better than to indulge.

You hit the call button anyway.

Sanemi picks up on the second ring. “I’ve got five minutes,” he warns, voice low, like he’s wary of being overheard. “So if I hang up all of a sudden, it’s ‘cuz of work —“

“Hi to you too,” you tease, settling back against your pillows.

A pause. “Hey there, beautiful,” you can hear his smile even through the phone. “You okay?”

“Better, now that I hear your voice,” and you can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed by the cheesiness of the admission. Texting him is one thing; hearing him, actually hearing that wonderfully gravelly voice of his soothes a tension in your limbs you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying.

He’s okay. He’s unharmed — safe, even. For now, that has to be enough.

Sanemi’s laugh comes through the phone as a staticky exhale of breath. “Normally, I’d ask what you’re wearing, but I’m dead fuckin’ serious — if they don’t win this war —“

“Which battle did you get to?” You sit up, wracking your memory for the approximate place Sanemi has reached in his book. “Did the cadre reunite?”

“No, half of ‘em are still across the fucking continent.”

“Ohhhh, yeah. Okay. I know where you are.” You tug at a loose thread on your comforter. “I can’t say anything. You’ll just have to keep reading.”

“God dammit,” and you imagine he’s rolling his eyes, maybe even glaring down at the book in distaste. “Shit’s got me stressed the fuck out. I don’t know how she’s gonna wrap this up —“

You giggle as he launches into a rant over loose plot ends. Squaring the mental image of your boyfriend — the one currently ranting about the various loose plot ends to still be tied up in his current read — with the one you know must be sitting in some alley or warehouse, waiting to do things he’ll never speak of, feels impossible at times. But here, for this small moment, Sanemi isn’t a Hashira. He’s just a boy, spouting off theories and guesses as to his book’s ending with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Here, there are no orders to leave, no bruised knuckles or bloodstained hands he has to scrub clean in your bathroom sink.

It’s just you and him; your Sanemi. Your wonderful, gentle, sweet Sanemi.

“Ah shit,” he cuts his impassioned tirade off with sigh. There’s a rustling on the other end of the line, but it’s too muffled to be distinguishable. “‘M gonna have to go —“

Just like that, the moment ends and the smile you’d been wearing slides from your face.“Oh.” And you hate how small your voice sounds. “That’s okay — I’m glad I got to talk to you for a sec.”

The rustling stops. “Me too,” Sanemi says softly. “Fuck, I miss you.”

This is the part you hate most; the part when he has to stop being yours and go be theirs, no matter how much you know he doesn’t want to.

Your moments with him are pennies to the hours the Corps gets to demand. As long as they keep their claws in him, this will always be how your moments with him end: in abrupt, hushed voices, Sanemi’s shoulders sagging with a guilt he shouldn’t have to feel.

You grimace. This forced distance between you is bad enough, and you don’t want him to feel worse than he likely already does. You knew what you signed up for by telling him you loved him. You can’t be mad for getting exactly what you’d known to expect. And besides, your ire is reserved for the Corps and the Corps alone. Sanemi doesn’t deserve it. You can’t leave him on your sour note.

He’ll be yours again soon enough, even if only temporarily. That has to be enough, for now. Better to give him something to look forward to, rather than reminding him — and yourself — of what you’re both currently without.

“If you still wanted to know — I’m wearing your shirt. Only your shirt.” You smirk. “A thong, too. The lacy green one.”

A favorite of Sanemi’s, as he’d mentioned a handful of times. One that always set his eyes wide, made his tongue flick out to wet his lips.

Your distraction works. A strangled groan crackles through the phone. “You’re killin’ me, woman.”

[chithereader]

stir crazy / aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 2k

genre: fluff/angst if you squint

cw: omniscient pov, hotch being vulnerable

“My agent has been asking me for the manuscript but it’s just not ready yet. And I’ve still got my day job that keeps me busy enough,” It’s a quiet day at the BAU. No urgent cases or serial killers, just a few feet worth of case files. Leaning against Reid’s desk, Rossi, Emily and boy genius himself have been talking about the next big David Rossi book.

“Oh c’mon, I see you typing away in your office and writing in that little notebook of yours– which I know is for your drafts by the way,” Emily teases. Rossi shrugs it off with a soft smirk and looks to the boy genius who has been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes. 

“Nothing to say, kid?” lowering his head to catch the young man’s preoccupied eye but Reid’s sight is incredibly glued far away. 

It took Reid a good 6 seconds to realize he’s kid before he shakes himself out of the trance and answers, “Well, considering the hours he’s spent typing on his personal laptop as opposed to the office computer and adding the minutes he allots on the jet to jot down on his writing notebook– assuming he’s writing in a similar format to his previous books–  I’d say….you’re actually well into the third chapter of your manuscript.” 

Still with his eyes trained on whatever caught his attention in the first place, Reid unsurprisingly impresses Rossi again because he is indeed a little over halfway into the third chapter.

But Rossi and Emily instantly become interested with what or who Reid has been staring at for the past minute, noticing that even when going off on his boy-genius tangent, his stare had been focused somewhere else. 

Reid jumps in his seat a little as the two level their heads on either side of his to see where his gaze has been glued. He had been so focused on figuring out the worrying sight and what caused it that he hadn’t noticed how much of him wasn’t aware of his surroundings. 

To their surprise, they’re met with a seemingly everyday sight: Hotch, in the pantry, stirring his coffee. And by everyday, they mean that to any passerby they’d think this is incredibly normal. Nothing at all out of place or out of character. 

But to the trained eye- to profilers who also spend almost everyday with the man, they slowly see what Reid must have seen. 

Hotch is stirring his coffee. But he doesn’t even put sugar or creamer in his always black coffee. 

He’s doing it absentmindedly. Literally looking lost in his head. Hotch is a busy guy, a busy boss guy, with millions of things to think about, but Hotch is never absent. His movements are always purposeful, precise, and calculated. Never lacking and never excess. 

Hotch has his head tilted down and to the side. Like a perpetually confused puppy. One of the things that make Hotch Hotch is his posture. His rigid, firm posture. Back always so straight, hands always clenched, jaw always tight– Hotch is never just there, his presence alone is commanding. 

And worst of all, Hotch’s hair is neat. Too neat. Okay, Hotch’s habit of being neat -with his pressed suits and shined shoes no matter where he is- naturally extends to how he styles his hair. Over the years, he’s learned to gel it out of his face for both convenience and aesthetic. But this neat- this neat looks a little too flat and ruffled at the same time. Like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times in a matter of minutes. 

So Rossi and Emily finally understand. The two share a look of understanding, while Reid looks up at them with curiosity and a little worry. 

“Do you guys think he’s.. okay?” Reid asks quietly with a little grimace. He looks between the two, trying to figure out what they’re thinking, “I mean it has been exactly 12 minutes that he’s been stirring nothing into his coffee.” 

“12?!” If Emily had any sort of drink in her mouth, she surely would have spat it out all over Reid–for which he is silently thankful she doesn’t because as much as he adores Emily, he’s just not mentally prepared for… well that. 

Finally, there’s movement in the pantry. Unaware of his colleagues now watching his every move, Hotch wakes up from the trance he was trapped in and quickly retreats back into his office with his now-cold cup of coffee. 

Knowing that Rossi’s the only one to easily get through to Hotch, Emily and Reid turn to look at him, wordlessly nudging him to check on the poor man who spent 12 minutes stirring his painfully plain black coffee. 

Raising both his hands as he stands from where he was leaning, Rossi surrenders “Alright alright! But I am not telling you rascals what he tells me in confidence.” pointing at the doe-eyed pair. 

Rossi lets the possibilities run through his head as he walks up the stairs to Aaron’s office. Maybe Jack’s having trouble with that one kid again– what’s his name? Or maybe Jack’s having trouble with Mothers’ Day coming up. That’s never been easy. But the stirring and staring into space and the hair? What could possibly– Knock knock. 

Rossi doesn’t even wait to hear Aaron’s voice. He pushes the door open to be greeted with the sight of Aaron finally looking a little more him: writing on his desk knee-deep in case files. 

Aaron looks up for a second and continues writing reports, “What can I help you with, Dave?” Putting extra pressure on penning that last period before closing the case file and grabbing another to open. 

Dave stays quiet for a bit and takes in the sight. Looks fine to me. But his silence halts Aaron’s writing and he looks up to Dave who’s just studying him by the door. 

“You know you can sit right?” Aaron stoically jokes. 

And a joke?! Dave finally cracks and sits down to say, “Boy genius just watched you stir your coffee for 12 minutes which we all know is black. Your hair’s messy and too fixed at the same time, you were standing in the pantry just minutes ago glaring into nothing. And you were slouching with your head tilted to the side.” 

“Honestly whatever it is, it’s none of my business but you just scared two members of your team and I think this may be the seed of doubt in your leadership skills because you’re finally not a robot.” It was obvious that Dave was trying to play it cool, masking concern with humor and sarcasm. 

But Aaron is a painfully private guy. He’d think it over for days before he decides to open up or seek advice from a close friend. Only he has thought about it for days and not saying anything’s been driving him insane he genuinely feels like he could implode at any second. 

Aaron takes one big breath and through clenched teeth he grumbles out, “It’s a she.” Finally staring Dave straight in the eyes, he clarifies, “the it in whatever it is is a she.” 

Realization and more worry hits Dave at the same time which Aaron clearly sees on his face. But Rossi quickly recovers and gives Aaron a soft, comforting smile, “Well what’s so bad about your she that’s got you so shaken up?” 

In Dave’s head, he’s already preparing responses for the worst: 

She doesn’t approve of my job. Well she can suck it. This is who you are. 

Jack doesn’t like her. Aaron, the one thing I like about kids is that they give it to you straight. I think you should take that as a sign

She’s not comfortable with the age gap. She’s way older. She’s way younger. I’m scarred in more ways than one. I’m not sure I still know how to– 

Aaron could see the increasing concern in Dave’s face, “I just–” he started. 

Dave’s thoughts were cut short by Aaron’s voice, thankfully because his mind was starting to reach the point of no return. Anticipating Aaron’s explanation, he leaned forward in his seat trying to read Aaron’s expression. 

“A few months ago, I’d stay here. After a case, when I know my son’s fast asleep and Jessica’s with him- I’d stay here.” Dave kept quiet, intently listening and trying to piece together where this could possibly go. 

“I would choose to stay here and finish reports, make a dent in the never-ending pile of case files because when I’m focused on helping others, I don’t have time to think of how alone I am.”

Before Dave could try and quell this ‘alone’ sentiment, Aaron quickly follows it up “I love my son. And he’s always been more than enough. And I have the team but… you guys have people to come home to. Arms to fall into at the end of a grueling day.” 

“For the longest time, since Haley.. I haven’t allowed myself to feel. To want. And if I’ve just been honest then it’d be known, I want to be loved. All that I carry, I drop all of it at the door and then there’s just this exhaustion that hits me. And all I want is for someone to hold me.” 

Dave takes all of this in, feeling an immense amount of love and sadness for his friend who deserves nothing but happiness but hasn’t for the longest time allowed himself the one thing that can give him that. 

“I know you think that getting into a relationship makes you a bad father, splitting the only time you have left with someone else instead of your son. But the truth is Aaron, Jack’s growing up. He has his sleepovers, camps, and football now. Soon he’ll leave for parties and college, and as much as he adores you he’ll have his own family.”

“I know. And then I’ll be alone.” Aaron’s voice starts to sound rough. Like this fact’s caught in his throat and he can’t speak. Dave studies Aaron and considers all the things he knows are holding Aaron back.

“So give it a shot.” Dave insists. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just set a date, and show up.” 

Aaron looks at Dave pointedly, “You make it sound easy–” “You make it sound hard.” 

Aaron appears to recover. He smoothes a hand over his tie and straightens his back yet again. In an instant, he’s back to looking stoic and stern with brows furrowed and eyes glaring.

He’s not used to being vulnerable, even in the privacy of his own office. Feeling like an open book for others to read makes goosebumps trail up his spine- in a bad way. Dave quickly reads this and decides to lighten the mood. 

“So…. when will we meet her?” Dave asks smugly. 

“Funny.”

“I understand.. your concerns. But I don’t think you’d be so worried about it if you weren’t already serious about her. So, what’s really going on with her?” 

Aaron thought he could get away without revealing much about her. He’s uncomfortable enough talking about himself, and all the more protective he is when it comes to you. Especially as someone who wants to keep your little world away from the harshness of everything else–

He sighs. He knows Dave is relentless and as payback for his concern, he decides he has to give Dave something. 

“I don’t know. Really. I don’t– I told you one day I’m tiring myself out so I don’t have to come home and process my empty bed as empty..”

“Now I’m tiptoeing in my own kitchen so as to not disturb this crazy singing person washing my dishes while my kid wipes the plates. And I watch them for god knows how long, instead of going up to my office to attend to case files whose deadlines are a bit too close for my liking.” 

“I don’t know,” Aaron shrugs. A soft, weak smile grows on his lips at the memory of you.

Dave stands from the seat, a knowing smirk on his face, “Hmm.” Teasing Aaron as he walks to the door and grabs the handle. 

“I think you’ll be just fine, Aaron. Just fine.” 

[mymegrokosmos]

a little soft bf minghao brainrot bc i felt like it. super era shoulder injury hao.

you set your bags down on the counter, dropping your keys by the front door and going to put your things away. by the time you've shrugged out of your jacket, hung it up in the front closet and put your purse in its usual spot on the credenza table in the hallway you're ready to melt into the sofa but there's still more to do before you can relax.

when you get to the kitchen, halfway through tying your hair up out of your face, you find yourself smiling. the familiar sight of your boyfriend's back, clad in his usual leisure attire of grey sleeveless top that leaves just a hint of his shoulders visible, peeks out of the fridge. he's already started putting the groceries away before anything gets too warm. just when you think your fondness for him can’t melt your heart any more than it already has he leans back to look at you from around the door and his soft smile has your heart in shambles.

if it’s possible to become one with the floor you're doing it. you've become a puddle. his shaggy mullet is in disarray, fluffy from where he's run his hands through it, and his face is bare. his usually sharp eyes are framed by big round glasses, softening his gaze as he closes the fridge in favour of coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"hi darling, welcome home. how was your day?"

you'd think after all this time you'd be used to how tall he was but it was still always a bit of a surprise just how much he towered over you up close. you sighed, letting him pull you into a hug and sliding your arms around his slim waist.

"hi. it was okay, very long."

he chuckles and you close your eyes, head resting against his chest. you're careful to lay it against the side of his good shoulder, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt as his hand comes up to rest against the back of your head.

"i'm glad to finally be home. what did you get up to today handsome?"

the hand on your waist squeezes lightly and he holds you close for a minute before stepping back with another kiss to the top of your head.

"physio this morning again and then practice, even though I can't do a lot of the choreo yet they still need me for blocking when I can make it. mingyu came by earlier and dropped off some hotpot. why don't you go get into something more comfortable and we can talk about it over dinner?"

sometimes there was nothing better than coming home to everything already being taken care of. you know he misses being at work but being home more means minghao needs things to do. his physiotherapist also says that getting some movement in is good for his progress, so he's been taking care of household chores and spending a lot more time meditating lately to keep himself busy.

the members have been helping when they can. mingyu comes by or gets your boyfriend out of the house at least three times a week now. jun's often over in his free time to run lines with hao or catch up on the latest cdrama you're watching together. you think joshua has even dragged him out to a pottery class or two in their spare time. it's been good for him and the rest is doing him good, even if it makes him a little bit restless sometimes.

you nod. "i'll be right back. do you need me to help with anything?"

"no, just relax and leave the day at the office jagiya."

easier said than done but minghao always made you feel less guilty about sticking by work life balance and keeping them mostly separate. it's also been fun spending more time cooking together, he's good in the kitchen just a little impatient and you're enjoying getting to try out some of his mother's recipes. she's often on video call when you get home, minghao pouting about something while she scolds him playfully or they catch up on their weeks with each other. it's sweet and you love that their relationship only seems to get stronger as time goes on.

"you're still coming to the company dinner next week with me, right?"

another soft smile as he nods. "I'll be there darling. I didn't pick us out matching outfits just to not show up. now stop worrying and go change. you're hovering again."

you are, just a little bit. it's a habit you're still trying to work your way out of. you were a little traumatized when you got the call that hao was in the hospital at first and, though you both know he's fine and capable now, the instinct to make sure he's okay still lingers a little bit.

you sigh and make a face at him. "okay, okay. I'm going."

he just chuckles as you head towards your shared bedroom. makeup and weight of the day finally removed it's time to slip into one of hao's oversized tshirts and the matching cotton pyjama pants he bought for you last christmas. it feels like a cozy day so you take the time to find your slippers too before shuffling back towards the kitchen.

you find minghao stirring a pot of what seems to be mingyu's latest attempt at comfort food and slip your arms around his waist from behind, face pressed lightly against his warm back.

"smells good."

he hums in agreement, hand patting yours where it rests on his stomach. "I think he made enough to feed about seven more people than we currently have in the apartment."

you laugh and lean around him to peek at the food over his arm. "gyu probably plans to use it as an excuse to come over for lunch tomorrow or something. oh no guess you need someone else to help you eat it all."

that makes your boyfriend scoff. "why would he do that when he can just say he wants to come over? he knows where we live."

you kiss his bicep and move to get down some bowls for you both. "because he's kim mingyu and you're you myungho."

your boyfriend stops to look at you, blinking as he pauses his stirring. "I'm still not seeing your point love."

"you know how you don't like when people get too presumptuous about you?" you smile softly. "I wouldn't say he's intimidated because gyu knows you love him but... sometimes he's a little insecure and sometimes you can be a little cold."

he considers this. "he's never let that stop him before."

you smile and let him guide you, one hand on your hip as you slide between him and the pot on the stove to fill your bowls.

"and he won't, I don't think, because at the end of the day he knows that it isn't that you don't like his affection you just don't always know what to do with it and it needs time to process. but I think, and maybe this is just my take, he sometimes worries a little about intruding too much. especially now that you have a relationship outside of just your family and the members and your other friends."

it's quiet for a minute as he takes that in. you dish up hot pot for both of you and take the bowls over to your small dining table. minghao slowly follows behind, face impassive. you'd worry that you upset him but you know that expression. it's not anger or annoyance, he's just lost in thought. you take his hand, press a kiss to the back of it, and watch as he blinks back into the present.

"think about it all you need but let's eat first. like I said, maybe I'm just reading too much into it. maybe he has other reasons. we can finish that new drama and call him later if you want."

your boyfriend nods and joins you at the table, filling you in on his day. you can tell he's only half present but that's okay. by the time you finish and wash up he seems to have come to a decision.

"love?"

"yes myungho?"

he scrunches his nose. "try again please darling."

you laugh but the arms he crosses over his chest tell you he's serious. you smile softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"yes, seo myungho great love of my life and most wondrous of boyfriends?"

he snorts. "closer but still not correct."

"baobei?"

he blinks. "close enough."

you laugh and brush a hand over his cheek, melting a little when he leans into the touch and takes your hand in his.

"you know I'm only teasing you, right?"

he nods. "I do."

you lace your fingers and press a kiss to the back of his hand. "what did you want to say honey?"

"do you mind if mingyu comes over tomorrow? I know it's your day off."

"babe, this is your apartment too."

minghao sighs. you know that look. the exasperated 'are you being serious right now?' stare. you smile.

"no, I don't mind if gyu comes over. just maybe warn me beforehand so I can make sure I have pants and a bra on this time."

that makes him smile, just a little, even as he rolls his eyes at you.

"come help me with my skincare?"

"only if you let me use the good stuff."

"mm we can even wear those matching headbands you like."

"lead the way love."

sometimes all you need after a long day is xu minghao ready with a hot meal, a long hug and a silly fuzzy frog headband keeping the bangs out of his face as he applies 6 layers of different creams to your face.

[sunnydayaoe]

{Dress up}

[CCCC FIC] Contains: Platonic Soul and Whole, sfw Petre[~4,500 words]

Soul really could not be normal. Clutched in His hands, the cutest little calico cat ear headband he'd ever seen. He gestured to himself, to Whole, to them, voice squeaky, "Is that-" for me? He really couldn't finish any sentence today, staring into His eyes: Deep brown and probably considering just how pathetic Soul was being. He shouldn't have asked. He could feel the shame, red like his halo in the midst of cacophony, creeping across his face. -- Dress up!!! Whole buys Soul some cat ears :]

Fic under cut! or on AO3

One would assume, wrongfully, that he would know better than this. He had assumed he knew better than this. Mocking him, taunting even, a little plastic bag carried the cause of his strife. Innocently sitting on his kitchen counter, contents spilling out the slightest bit: calico cat ears and a matching tail.

Pathetic to be so worked up over such a simple thing. It made him infinitely grateful Mind and Heart had left for a walk earlier and his Soul hadn't left its room for the day yet; Whole assumed he was just enjoying some alone time with both its ids and Whole out of the house.

He cringed as his thoughts drifted back to his Soul. The calico themed ensemble had been bought for him, after all.

Nothing was wrong with them, at a glance. Plush, soft to the touch, colored bright and cheery, they seemed exactly what someone who'd buy them would want out of them. What had drawn his eye in the first place, the signature black and orange splotching reminding him terribly of his Soul, looked charming even in the shitty kitchen lighting. He groaned, slumped over the counter, annoyed with how easily he was taken in by them.

It wasn't just that he'd gotten cat ears for his... friend, before he could think better of it. It was that Soul would definitely balk at the idea of wearing them.

He didn't think there was any shame in wearing cat themed paraphernalia, didn't even think Soul would find it shameful to wear them, but that wasn't the problem here. Soul already had fuzzy ears and a short little tail, rendering this wholly unnecessary.

Frankly, he would just look downright goofy in the whole ensemble. Curved, sharp horns with a cat-ear headband at the base, further down real goat's ears, and then even further a fake cat-tail to hang beside its real fawn. And, well... It would look cute. He just didn't think his Soul would have a similar view.

He slid his hand over his face, another noise escaping his lips. This was just embarrassing.

He knew Soul didn't need any new equipment for pet regression: at least, he'd never asked for or made any himself. Doing this, getting him things he definitely didn't want and would probably feel stupid wearing, was another tally in the mess he'd made of his Soul's existence.

He wished there was a guide to being someone’s... to being someone’s.

He'd flipped through article after article about " how to be a good roommate, " " all the things that only your good friends would do for you, " and even several blogs about being a good caretaker, yet none of them seemed to know the answers for all of... this.

He should throw them away. A waste of money, a waste of time, but what wasn't, nowadays? It'd be a bigger waste if Soul saw them and finally realized Whole wasn't worth as much as he clearly thought he was. He could see it so clearly. His Soul's eyes, wide with wonder and adoration darkening with understanding; seeing Whole for who he clearly was, a waste of time and effort.

Maybe that would be a blessing: getting it over with. It probably wouldn't fix anything. Soul- and Heart and Mind- were all stuck with him, their only Whole.

He shook his head. He couldn't be getting bogged down by thoughts like that now.

The bag was in his hand and he was halfway down the hallway before he could start overthinking again. His own trash-can would be best; he could just imagine the reactions if any of the three found his mistake in a more communal trash-can. He'd never live it down.

He made it to his room without interruption, thankfully.

With a 'oomf' he flopped into his desk chair, the bag ending up on the desk itself. He should throw it away, but...

The headband was in his hands, horribly soft. He fidgeted with it, and tried not to imagine them on Soul. Failed, like many other things, but the picture did bring a smile to his face. His Soul would look extremely goofy in them; adding the tail to the mental image brought out a giggle.

He was just having a little thought experiment before he threw them away, that was all. It wasn't hurting anyone.

Maybe this earned him karma's ire though, or maybe it was another bullet on the long list of problems he'd caused. Either way, lady luck was not smiling upon him.

His door creaked open, Soul peeking in, a smile drawing across his face in an instant. "Whole, you're back! Would you like to ha-"

He knew why he stopped.

Single visible eye dilated in, focused on the headband in his hands. It reminded him of that searching look Soul got on his face anytime he hadn't seen Whole for any notably long amount of time; searching, intense- looking for faults, for why he cared about him at all, probably.

"Is that...?" Soul gestured vaguely, like he didn't know what it was trying to say but trusted Whole implicitly to understand.

Whole did Not understand.

------

The day had been going well. Almost unreasonably well.

Heart and Mind had been civil, even affectionate, all morning. They'd left the house together some time early in the evening. A part of him {one he had been listening to less and less as of late} feared they wouldn't be returning, at least not in one piece. Most of him just hoped they got back early enough to join them for dinner.

Most of the unease was centered on the fact that Whole had gone shopping, though.

It made him feel clingy and a bit pathetic to worry so much when all He was doing was a simple errand, but oh, Harmonia, was it hard not to imagine something horrible happening to his Whole while he was not there.

It was fine, he could deal with it! Harmonia would return, probably with a little extra treat He'd gotten while He was out, and a satisfied smile. Getting out would be good for Him. Soul really should just... calm down.

That was what he'd tried to tell himself all morning, anyway.

He could feel the stress sinking in further, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up against Harmonia and forget all the stress of being apart. That would be dreadfully embarrassing though. He was probably going shopping to get away from them for a little bit {and, well... Shop.}, Soul attaching himself to His hip right as He got back would be tantamount to going right against Harmonia's will.

He could be normal! He... he could be normal just as soon as he gave Him a little check in. The footsteps, quiet as they were, let him know Harmonia had gotten back from His little trip. Maybe Soul could ask if He'd want lunch. Maybe they could eat it together...

He slapped his cheeks, shaking his head out like a dog. Getting ahead of himself again, daydreams filling his head. He needed to get a grip!

Just... just be normal, he reminded himself, with a final steadying breath. His door had been left open a crack, and with that note he pushed Harmonia's door open.

"Whole, you're back! Would you like to ha-" the sentence remained unfinished.

He really could not be normal.

Clutched in His hands, the cutest little calico cat ear headband he'd ever seen. He let out a near inaudible noise, though from what he could see He didn't seem to notice.

He gestured to himself, to Whole, to them, voice squeaky, "Is that-" for me? He really couldn't finish any sentence today, could he.

Whoever said that eyes were the window to the soul was clearly lying out of their ass, because what Soul saw in Harmonia’s eyes was not himself. Deep brown and probably considering just how pathetic Soul was being. He shouldn't have asked. He could feel the shame, red like his halo in the midst of cacophony, creeping across his face.

What was he waiting for? Soul to finish his sentence? That ship had clearly sailed and crashed… maybe he was trying to figure out how to let Soul down gently; that made more sense. His Harmonia was so sweet, of course He wouldn't want to be too cruel in His rejection.

Of course those sweet little trinkets wouldn’t be for Soul.

Whole moved, snapping Soul out of his thoughts immediately. Eyes wide, searching for any sign of what Soul was supposed to do. How he could be perfect.

His arms, holding the headband, had curled inwards. Like praying {like Soul}.

Harmonia, Whole, cleared His throat, like He didn't know what to say. He didn't say anything for a moment longer, awkward. Another cough. Soul was slightly worried He might just be sick. Soul's throat ached in sympathy, or maybe that was just because he'd stopped breathing.

"Soul-" He finally started, "This is- I just... I bought these earlier. Ah, while I was doing errands." He cringed, like He didn't really want to be talking about this. Talking to Soul.

Soul should probably answer, "Oh." No sound came out when he tried to continue, so he quickly shut his mouth. Maybe he would Not be answering with more than that. Maybe he should just walk out the door and dig himself a pit to lie in. Maybe Heart had the right idea.

Whole cringed back even further at that; Soul definitely made a mistake. Should he... try talking again? Before Soul could try another attempt at normal conversation, a futile effort, Harmonia was continuing.

"You can, ah, have them. If you want." He made a little motion to come closer; it was kind of an awful effort, motion aborted half-way through like He was embarrassed to be taking up more space than He already was.

It was all Soul needed though, and with a motion more practiced and sure than anything else that evening Soul had stumbled forward and landed on his knees before Him. The position, the cat ears it wasn't even wearing, the fact he'd felt stressed all day... It was hard to stay present, to not regress.

His Whole was already so stressed, He probably didn't want to deal with that right now. Soul could keep it together, for Him. {He knew he couldn't. Everything already felt a little fuzzy. Weak, but maybe Harmonia would forgive him.}

His face was a little twisted up, something sour that quickly smoothed out into calm. "Do you want me to put it on you...?"

Soul thought that was already the plan. He really kept embarrassing himself, didn't he? He did a little almost imperceptible nod, something Harmonia had to lean down to see.

Finally something that wasn't negative; He smiled, sweet and small and lopsided and perfect. "Let me..." He murmured, quiet, before slowly reaching out with the headband. Soul tried to stay still, really, he did. His efforts were fruitless, because the instant His hands dipped around his ears, gently sliding the headband on, he was had.

As if his body and mind were not one {ironic, because he was not the one split in three in this room,} he leaned into the hands with a hum. Warm, soft, kind. He made a noise at that, surprised and amused. With the smallest adjustment to the headband, His hands moved forwards to cup his face instead, tilting it up to stare up at Him.

"Cute...."

Soul's face was bright red. That didn't stop him from leaning in until nearly his entire head was supported by Harmonia's hands though. He scooted the smallest bit closer, head nearly in His lap.

Harmonia's thumb gently rubbing along his cheek was the last straw. He shouldn't have expected not to fall like this, He was just being too indulgent, affectionate. How was he supposed to resist...?

He nuzzled into His hands, shuffling the last few inches closer until he could set his head in His lap. Like a lapdog, or perhaps a very large cat, he looked up at Harmonia, eyes half-lidded. Harmonia seemed taken aback by his boldness, but Soul was too busy enjoying the feeling of His soft denim pants, skin-warmed, against his cheek to notice.

Another moment frozen, a moment where Soul started to almost regret his actions, almost came back up. It only lasted that single second though, His hands beginning to move again. One stayed against his cheek, the other drifting back behind his ear. "Are you a kitty right now...? I should have expected this." A ting of self deprecation, like He couldn't get over how stupid He was.

Soul wouldn't be standing for that, not when Harmonia was the definition of perfection. With a whine he nuzzled against his lap, staring up at Him with large baleful eyes. His arms reached up, paws on his knees. The picture of a pleading kitten.

He laughed, attention redirected back to Soul. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to worry you, bud."

That laugh was nearly angelic. Everything he’d ever need to hear for the rest of his life. He hummed, nuzzling further against Harmonia, trying to elicit more giggles and coos.

Anything to make his Whole happy. Anything to keep Him content to lower Himself to his presence.

It was like that for a few more moments, Harmonia’s hands carding through his hair. His nails were bit short, blunt, but still wonderful against his scalp. Still, like all good things, it could not last.

“Soul,” He started, before stopping. Words coming out before He’d considered them, or maybe the pause added in for some secretive sort of purpose Soul wasn't able to get, world so fuzzy at this point.

The lack of structure was unideal though. He couldn’t help but be reminded of that awful song He would sing when existence became too taxing. Each word drifting further and further from one another…

“Do you want off the floor?” A question interrupted his musing. "You can, ah-" He paused, the hesitance back, His face a bit red, "you can sit in my lap, if you want..."

He nodded with barely a moment's consideration. The floor was nice, if only because he had easy access to Harmonia. His lap, though…? That sounded heavenly.

The right answer, of course. Smiling down at him like a forgiving deity, practically glowing. It made him forget to start moving, just admiring instead. The smile faltered after a beat of him proceeding to do absolutely nothing, confusion clouding His eyes. Seeming to realize Soul wasn't going to be getting up himself, He reached down, arms a bit hesitant as they curled around him.

Of course Soul was nothing but relaxed in His arms, nearly going limp the second he could feel Him supporting him. A faux purr started up, the noise interrupted every other second with a giggle. He needed to calm down- but it was so so hard to, when He kept looking at him like that.

"And there we go!" With one last motion and a little scrabbling from Soul he was finally in His lap. "That better, bud?"

He nodded, face pressed to His shoulder. All the stress that had been plaguing him seemed to melt away in His arms, warm and present and undeniably there. It was hard, at times, to believe this was really his reality, but even dreams didn't feel this nice: undeniable proof that concord had been achieved.

And could anyone blame him? He’d like to see a single person who wouldn’t melt into these arms.

Gentle cooing, hands slowly carding through his hair… on second thought, the idea of someone else getting this instead of him sounded awful.

He cuddled closer, the side of his left horns bumping into Harmonia’s chin. In his haste, he finally noticed a detail about the calico cat ears: they had bells. Little jingly ones that made a sound anytime he moved his head. Delightful!

He shook his head, trying to get more of the clinking noises. This also earned him a squeak from Harmonia as his horns were shaken about as well.

He pushed Soul away the slightest bit, hands gentle on his shoulders, “be a bit more careful, bud? Those horns are sharp…”

He didn’t look too angry though, just amused at his giddiness. So forgiving and perfect! He leaned in to nuzzle his face, careful of His horns this time. His cheeks were warm and only slightly rough with stubble.

Harmonia laughed as he nuzzled against Him, trailing along the side of His head. Tucking his nose into His collarbone, he pressed the rest of his face to His neck. The way he shook and rumbled with laughs felt so nice…

His hands trailed along Soul’s back, lightly scratching just enough to feel through his shirt. Arching into it with a happy little hum, close enough to a purr to make him feel all fuzzy inside.

Then they stopped, leaving Soul to whine in confusion. Removing himself from His very comfortable embrace, head tilted back to look up at Harmonia, he let out another confused noise. Why no petting…? His Whole was smiling, crinkly in the corners like an old wrapper, saying cushy soft little things like, “don’t worry bud…” and “you can keep going,” so Soul probably hadn’t been Bad, so what could it be?

His attention was drawn to movement at the corner of his eye, Harmonia had reached for a bag on his desk. Plastic, probably from his shopping trip earlier… what could… oh!

Stoic and normally so composed, he could do nothing but perk up in excitement; was it a treat? Did He have a treat for the Soul? For being so very good and nice and responsible all the time?

His halo must have brightened at that, because He squinted a little, face scrunched up further, face painted a bit yellow by the light. He looked like what every painting Soul had tried to make strove to be: his Harmonia, bathed in the light of harmony.

He didn’t pay that any mind, more taken in with the possibility of a snack or toy. Shifting around and leaning over Harmonia's arms, using His chair for leverage he tried to stick his face into the bag.

“Wouh!” Harmonia snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him flush against His chest before he could investigate further, the chair wobbling precariously from all the sharp movements the two were doing, “settle down Atlas, I’ll show you in a moment.”

He squirmed and grumbled in His arms for a moment before doing as asked. Even without the treat this was still pretty nice…

With a flourish the treasure was finally presented to him. A matching calico tail to the ears he’d been given, equally adorable and colorful. 

This confidence waned as quickly as it came, the arm around his waist relaxing and the hand holding the tail stiffening a little. “Do you like it…?”

He answered with a happy trill, head butting His hand affectionately, careful not to catch any skin, or the tail, with his horns. Harmonia relaxed into His chair with that, eyes softening with relief as He let His fingers card through Soul’s hair.

“Want help putting it on?”

He nodded, squirming around on Harmonia’s lap until He was in a position where He actually could put it on Soul, half straddling Him. His Whole’s arms reached around him again, one just holding him still against His chest and the other actually clipping the tail to one of his belt loops.

With that, He was done, leaning back to admire His work. Soul tried to do the same, but there wasn’t really much room to do so in Harmonia’s lap. He turned a bit, motions awkward and giving him very little opportunity to actually see the tail or feel it swish around.

Gentle, like He didn’t know if this would net Him a positive reaction, he offered a suggestion. “Would it be easier to see that out of my lap?” He quickly continued, not frantic but not wholly relaxed, “you can always sit with me later… I can just get some work done, and you can enjoy that yourself, on the floor nearby…? I ah… don’t really have any cat-toys…”

The idea of being separated from Harmonia wasn’t the most appealing, but he really did want to move around more… if he really could just come back anytime he wanted, there probably wasn’t any harm in a little play-time; if he didn’t like it he could just come right back.

With that decided, he slipped off Harmonia’s lap and onto the floor, already feeling bereft of His warmth. An encouraging, “have fun bud!” Kept him from returning straight away though; he was going to have fun!

Doing a tight little circle to watch how his tail moved around with the motion, he couldn’t help but feel a little euphoric at the swaying faux fur. It was very very cute. But maybe he went around a few too many times: he ended up a bit dizzy after.

It was very much worth it though, because all the spinning reminded him of the little jingly bells on his cat ears.

He gave it a good shake, admiring how clearly the sound rang out. Batting at it a few times for good measure, knocking it a little loose. Half-on half-off it wasn't as comfortable.

Trying to fix it, he brought his paws back to his head and tried to bat at it again. Of course, this only knocked it off fully. Landing on the floor with a few more little tinkles. He could have probably just grabbed it and put it back on, but it did a little bounce and it just kept Jingling and he was pouncing before he had a conscious thought.

Batting around the improvised cat toy was way more enjoyable than it should have been -maybe because Soul hadn't really gotten to play with toys in kitten space before.

Harmonia had stopped watching him after a little bit, and he let himself fully get into the zone. One, probably too forceful, hit landed the headband on Whole's bed.

He made quick work of scrambling over to the bed and jumping up, enjoying the way his tail trailed behind him when he moved fast enough. The springs protested the motion, but he paid them no mind, seizing his prize.

Mantling over it, he just enjoyed the fact he'd "caught" it. Slowing down like that let him process the fact he was in Harmonia's bed, too. Soft and unmade, it was, overall, extremely normal. That didn't stop a little nervous feeling enveloping him, scared he was doing something wrong.

Looking over, He didn't seem to be paying much attention, though after Soul stayed quiet for a bit He looked over. Apparently not seeing anything amiss, He gave a little wave, before getting back to work.

So this was... allowed. He guessed it makes sense, Whole hadn't made any other fuss about him being on the furniture as a kitten, so this wasn't that strange. Slightly more secure in the fact that he wasn't breaking any rules, he flopped over and cradled the belled headband.

His bed smelled nice {or well... it didn't smell That nice, but it smelled like Him}, and he couldn't resist the urge to roll around a little. He stretched, enjoying the ambience. It was.... pleasant;: calm. He hadn't really let himself relax all day, too many distinct variables to keep track of.

Now though... he could just relax in His bed, content that things were okay. Mind and Heart were still out, but that felt less pressing. He knew they were getting along now, spending time together...

And centering, grounding, Harmonia worked at his computer several feet away. Safe.

It was all just... so very nice.

------

"We're home!"

Heart and Mind had come back, Heart's cheery voice signaling their return. Just as his fingers were starting to cramp too, a sure sign Whole had been working too long.

He stretched out his hands with a groan, taking off his head-set as well. As he got up, his eyes were drawn to his bed, where Soul was sound asleep. He'd assumed the third had left, quiet for so long, but it seems he just tuckered himself out instead.

After a moment's consideration, he decided waking Soul up was probably for the best; it was around dinner time now, and the Sun and Moon probably grabbed food while they were out.

Creeping up to the bed, quiet in a way he probably didn't need to be-- he was going to be waking him up either way-- he sat down next to him.

His Soul was curled around the calico-themed headband, a relaxed smile spanning his entire face, halves mismatched but both softened by concord.

He touched his own face at that, surprised. The darkened half was supposed to mirror his own; he didn't know the last time he'd smiled like that. As if brought on by the attention, he finally noticed how much his face ached from smiling.

He shook his head, knowing he couldn't be dwelling on this. Focusing on the present instead, he shook his shoulder, "Soul? Can you wake up, dude?"

He curled up further, getting further into that catlike ball. Cute, if he didn't worry he was actually annoying him. Maybe he shouldn't be trying to wake him up...

The choice didn't seem up to him though, because there was a harsh knocking against the door. Three sharp raps: Mind. Its voice coming through a second later only confirming that, "We got dinner; get out here soon."

He called back an affirmative, trying to keep his voice down, but the effort was characteristically worthless. Mind wasn't one to control his volume, and he could already see Soul shifting to wakefulness.

"Hey Soul..."

"Urghgh- Harmonia?"

That word, usually he didn't use it out loud. It seems that was who he was to Soul still, "Dinner time, Heart and Mind came back."

He just blinked up at Whole, visible eye half-lidded and sleepy, "You're so pretty..."

He tried to ignore the flutters he set off in his chest, nervous, giggly, "Hey- hey. Eyes on the prize, dinner time."

He hummed, folding out in a cat-like stretch; he seemed to be categorizing the feeling of the bed before, almost like a flip was switched, he froze.

Sitting up like he'd been dragged up, he grinned at Whole, "Ah- morning." A glance at the clock, "Evening, I mean. Sorry to keep you here so long... it's dinner now, right?"

Hoping he wasn't overstepping any bounds, he placed a hand on Soul's shoulder, "Anytime, Soul. I'm just glad you enjoyed the gift."

The thirds hands shot right back to his lap at that, clutching the headband, like he'd forgotten it was there at all; the motion making it jingle all over again. "Yeah... it was nice."

Soul was still a mess from his nap, relaxed in ways he usually didn't allow himself, and Whole couldn't help but admire the way this experience had let him see that. See the way even stripped bare of his mask, he still looked at him like he hung all the stars in the sky. He still didn't know what he'd done to earn that.

He didn't think there was anything he'd ever done that could measure up. Maybe that was okay though. Maybe it was time to accept that he didn't have to earn every scrap of happiness in his life.

Another call from the kitchen, breaking the two out of their reverie.

He didn't mind, trailing after Soul to meet the other two in the kitchen. Warm, soft, another domestic day. He wouldn't have it another way.

[cloud-makers-make-pollution]

mental breakdowns in the instrument cupboard for the win 😃 👍

[seagull-scribbles]

They’re out of time (cancelled)

<prev [5/7] next>

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[r0zzk1ll]

Hello bendy fandom Really fucking long rant/analysis abt me defending wally franks batim in a nutshell (and kind of basically making an au??.?. idk probably). enjoy if u want or don't idc 🎷🐇

i know this is a really stupid thing to be mad about, but the fact that wally isnt buddy boris has stuck with me ever since dctl was released. i found out through a fucking superhorrorbro video of all things all the way back in like 2018 i'm pretty sure 😭😭 i was so disappointed when i found out bc like WHAT DO U MEAN THE JANITOR/HANDYMAN OF JOEY DREW STUDIOS, EHO WAS GENERALLY A TRICKSTER AND A CLUTZ AND LIKED TO PISS PEOPLE OFF, ISN'T THE PERFECT BORIS CLONE. BUDDY BORIS FITS/HAD POTENTIAL TO FIT MOST TO ALL OF THAT CRITERIA.

and don't grt me wrong, i (kind of) like buddy as a character, BUT i really just don't think he fits the role (from what i've seen/read). like he could've been a different boris clone as a little easter egg/nod to what happened to him and how he died but as like. an important role in the game?? even though the books aren't even fucking canon apparently now so his subplot doesn't even make sense anymore?????.????... ooh bitchh

ALSO the "he (wally) got outta there that's why/he has a wife and kids" IS A WEAK ASS FUCKING ARGUMENT. THIS IS NOT A SHITS AND GIGGLES PLOTLINE U CAN JUST THROW AWAY. how come thomas grts to be tom (which makes somewhat sense with him also being a handyman type of guy), but wally can't also partake in the Main Character-ified Borisification to help henry traverse the studio. why can't that just be so easy to do. there could've been so many cool extra plotpoints and nods to what could've happened to him but Noooo Noooooooooo they just HAD to make a whole new character JUST for wally to NOT BE BORIS. ESPECIALLY WHEN THE BOOKS ARE NON CANON NOW BECAUSE THAT MAKES TOTAL SENSE. (/sarc)

and don't FUCKING quote me on batds bc i know SOMEBODU will be like "b-b-b-bbut b-b-buddy's whole s-s-side plot with collecting the scraps in batds makes him c-c-c-canon!!! 🥺🥺🥺💖😭😭💔💔💔🎀🎀✨✨ ur just mad bc it's not what was assumed by the fandom!! ;-; úwù heh..." FIRST OF ALL, BUDDY ISNT EVEN MENTIONED IN ANY OF THE CANON GAMES (besides the secret message in the safehouse but i don't think that rlly counts imo), NOR DOES HE HAVE ANY RELEVANCE IN THE STORY WHATSOEVER, WHICH MEANS HE IS STRICTLY BOOK-CANON. SECOND OF ALL, BATDS WAS KNOWN AS A SIDE/EXTRA GAME AT THE TIME OF IT'S RELEASE AND WASN'T EVEN CONFIRMED TO BE APART OF BATIM OR ANY OTHER PART OF THE FRANCHISE (ASIDE FROM A SIDE GAME TO PLAY WHILE BATDR WAS IN PRODUCTION) UNTIL BATDR WAS RELEASED AND CONFIRMED BATDS IS HAPPENING DURING IT (WHICH DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE EITHER)!!!

I DON'T CARE WHAT KIND OF OPINION COULD CHANGE MY MIND. WE GOT A PERFECTLY GOOD AND WELL-DEVELOPED CHARACTER (AND A [PERSONAL] FAN FAVORITE) AT THAT POINT FOR WHO BORIS COULD'VE BEEN, AND IT GOT TAKEN FOR SOME STUPID SEEMINGLY HALF-ASSED SUBPLOT THAT'S ONLY HALF-CANON NOW BECAUSE MIKE FUCKING D IS A GOD DAMN MORON IDIOT BASTARD ASS BITCH OHHH MY GOD IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY I'M GONNA PULL OUT ALL MY HAUR

sorry. almost lost my cool there guys.. ☝️😎 (/J)

soo with all that said, PERSONALLY this is what i think they should've done with buddy instead (under the cut so this post isn't 600 pages long)

first of all; scrap buddy's origin story completely and just make dtcl about the fact that he was simply another victim of the machine instead of making him such a major character (ex. a boris clone that was almost perfect but didn't quite make it like i said earlier)

on top of that, dctl could've just been insight on a single worker's process through working at the studio to being one of many victims of the machine, instead of turning him into such a titular important gary stu ass character with an in-depth backstory and Joey Drew Favoritism™ apparently that CLEARLY didn't need it + shouldn't be an mc if he's only in the books + the books aren't canon and the games are. so then it doesn't make it make any sense if he has such an important role and he isn't even fucking canon anyway and etc.

if he would've just stayed a minor inconvenient mc in a non-canon book it wouldn't have been detrimental to the lore as Mr. D Likes To Exaggerate (to me) + the books just seem like a fun one-off exclusive to the game series anyway, so it starts to kind of make sense why they aren't canon and leaves a lot of mysteries up to interpretation which is something i DO appreciate (to a CERTAIN extent)

here's what i think could've been done if wally was actually buddy boris and faced The Horrors™ like a normal main character should. an au, if you will (AND bc im VERY bias abt wally since He was my first ever og blorbo the first time i heard his audio log i literally owe him my Life💜💜💜💜)

wally could've started dropping hints in his audio logs that something funny was happening in the studio (specifically to him)/he could've been the last major victim to be sacrificed to the machine and therefore being one of the reasons of having the role of "the perfect boris" as malice said

-he also seems like the type of person to give into manipulation fairly easily, not knowing how truly bad something is before he gets involved yk

-a bit of a stretch BUT could also be a nod to susie's initial likeness towards wally pre-canon and vice versa (sourced from the special audio log wally has on the jds yt channel)

-him being the perfect boris also could allude to his personality/attributes and the way he talked abt the studio

and you can't forget the audio log of him and thomas bickering like COME ONNNN THERE COULD'VE BEEN A WHOOOLE SUB-SUBPLOT WHERE TOM AND BUDDY BORIS RECOGNIZE EACH OTHER SOMEHOW AT SOME POINT BUT THEY DON'T KNOW HOW

-TOM COULD'VE RECOGNIZED HIM EVEN AS BRUTE BORIS AFTER HENRY KILLS HIM and allison too but TOMMMMMMM😭😭😭😭😭CAN ANYONE HEAR MEEEEE

extra hints in the game like certain phrases and mannerisms of his (ink/glowing ink writings like his "i'm outta here!" written in certain locations or like. boris being clumsier as he walks/carrying around keys/scavenging for food [kind of like in the start of chapter 3], etc.)

-i also think that the connection that buddy boris (and just boris in general) has with food can connect with wally as well bc of the audio log where he's like "Omg 💖 Cake 💖just for me! Don't Tell Anyone Though. Our little secret. 😝" or the bit in the handbook where he finds some "churros" i Guess

there's also a LOT of potential for there to be a whole OTHER subplot where sammy could have found him one day and hadn't recognized him bc All The Boris Clones Look The Same, but buddy boris recognized sammy and there could be a whole conversation with henry and sammy abt him and dropping hints at it and blahblahblah etc etc.

-sammy probably could've mentioned him* at some point too even if he hadn't seen buddy boris as like a "hey.. i knew that fuckass guy.. wtf" (*and i know he mentions wally in the hot topic takeover thing on twitter from a while ago but i mean like in the actual game)

i think that the fact of boris being a Non-Verbal King™ would also be a funny contrast to how many god damn audio logs wally has. like Shut yuor mouth fucker /REF

the bit in chapter 3 where boris knows every nook and cranny of the studio and how to navigate the vent system could also lead to wally's nature of having a lot of knowledge of the layout to the building (due to being a janitor/running errands for people, similar to buddy) + he mentions staying in late to freshen up some offices so he might've explored more using that time as well because his personality shows he's a bit of a nosy guy

ALSO a stretch, but wally's first audio log in chapter one being fairly close to the first boris corpse displayed could've been a good foreshadow to his revival as buddy boris (and where the theory originated i'm pretty sure once ch2 came out)

the saferoom at the start of chapter 3 could've also been a great place to reference him (they could've put his hat from bendy royale in the shelf next to/on the hammock Can anyone hear me)

i also think that wally is supposed to be painted as an older guy?? so he probably already would've moved on from the studio due to leaving and starting his own business and having a family I Guess?????? idk but to me i think he'd be more of the college drop-out that thinks he's hot shit type of guy when in reality he doesn't know what a 2 + 2 is (ex. the audio log in batds where he's like "i was the best Student! Brickmore High! [tiktok bold emoji] These college bozos don't be knowin' shit!!"

-younger people are easier to manipulate like i talked abt earlier (especially someone like him that doesn't think before he Does Anything . boy has no thoughts)

wally also most likely would've known who henry was/was friendly with him while working there too at some point while henry was still at the studio pre-canon, so he probably recognized him throughout the cycle

i could ramble forever abt this bc it's such a strangely frustrating topic for me BUT in conclusion; i personally tbink that it would've been perfectly logical for wally to have been buddy boris (probably called somethig else), and buddy should've been a completely seperate character that would've done just as well on his own in the book instead of having a whole ass overarching plot for no reason?? and the "canonicity" of it is weirdly up for debate??? idk Watever thank you for coming to my tedtalk 😇😇Bye

⭐ !! bonus wally doodle dump since u made it this far !! seriously why r u Here ⭐

[iniziare]

Consider Yelan's facial expression to be my own in reaction to opinions shared on both X and Tumblr, and I guess I'm in the minority of the 'loud ones', but I'm pretty excited for Natlan since that trailer, actually. The previous teasers left me a little 'eh', but this definitely got my hopes back up, and I'm back in the right spirits for it (and ready to catch some Pokémon.)

Now I wouldn't be me if I didn't touch on the salt that I've seen scattered across the dash, so here I go. Listen, I read people's objections and I see what you're all aiming at, but in that light want to note that it's often incredibly easy to point fingers (arguably too much so) at others while being, quite honestly, hopefully rather aware that many of our own countries, cultures, and its populations across the board (and no, I'm not excluding anyone here) would likely be just as easily guilty as MHY is with these things. And no, I'm not blindly defending them, but I also won't point fingers at only one without pointing them everywhere else as well, including those you might think would 'never do such things', because I'm absolutely certain that they would. /continues on in the tags.

[purpurussy]

.

[kg-clark-inthedark]

dammit gale bg3 really got me in bed writing out-of-context emotional oneshots on my phone for nobody but me like it’s 2011 again

[iced-souls]

I just need to vent….

This year has been a curse and there seems to be nothing i can do to stop it.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...