#on the bright side there are no germs in my mouth

[housedyke]

My prescription mouthwash is turning my teeth a very faint shade of blue...

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part Pilot

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hair on the back of my neck rose half a second before something hard hit my head. I couldn't see anything but I could still feel when I hit the pavement. I rolled onto my back and tried to kick up at whoever was there.

Multiple hands grabbed me and dragged my across the hard ground. I felt my strength slowly coming back with my sight. There wasn't much to see as three dark figures towered above me. My back cracked when they slammed me into the wall.

One of them grabbed my jaw and dug their fingers into my cheek. I tried clenching my teeth but they easily pried my mouth open. I tried flicking my wrist but the rocks under my feet barely moved. They had hit my head so I couldn't use my magic. Now they were trying to drug me. Keep a mage discombobulated or high and they can't use their magic.

One of them had their entire weight on my legs and the other had my arms pinned against my side. They slipped a powder past my lips and clamped my mouth shut. I took a deep breath before they pinched my nose. I had only seconds before I passed out and they could get the rest of the powder down my throat. It was already soaking into my tongue and cheeks. I tried scrapping it against my teeth.

The weight on my feet disappeared. I tried kicking them but there was nothing but air. I pulled my leg up and dug my heel in their groin. They fell back and slammed into the wall behind them at an inhuman speed. I reached for the last attacker's eyes and dig my nails in. He let go and jumped over me as if to run. I immediately spat on the ground and wiped my tongue with the back of my hand.

I looked around at the dark alley. Everything was starting to double, the colors a wild red and blue. Some of it had gotten into my system. I saw two men laying still on the ground, the other running for the bright road. Something flew past my face and strikes him dead center in the back of his head. His body fell limp.

"Are you alright, my lady?"

I turned over my shoulder to see Alastor, the Radio Demon, towering above me. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark alley and his coat was as red as blood. I knew he was tall but he looked even more terrifying in person. His long, red fingers were outstretched in a kind gesture.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"Is that any way to treat your savior?" He moved his hand closer, edging me to accept his offer.

"Why would you help me?" I rubbed the back of my head and winced. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He stood a full head taller than me but he seemed oddly skinny. He didn't have the muscle I had.

"I know rumors deem me a dark light, but I can assure you I'm still a gentleman at heart. How could I let those fools continue their assault?" He wiped his hand on his coat as if I had some kind of germ or disease on me.

"I didn't ask for the help so I'm in no way obligated to do anything you ask," I said. I looked down to examine my hands because that was better than staring at his terrifying eyes. I lost my balance and fell backwards into the wall.

He grabbed my wrist and roughly pulled it up. I tried pulling it back but he held on painfully tight. I could picture him using his sharp teeth to slice it off in one bite. But he didn't. He dropped my hand and grabbed my chin next. He turned my head as if examining my neck. I tilted my head back and pulled away. I slammed into the wall again but tripped on my own feet, landing right on my tailbone.

He leaned down and grabbed my face again. I tried digging my nails into his wrist but my strength had disappeared. The drug was taking full effect now. "Let go of me, demon," I spat. He used his other hand and dragged a claw down my cheek. I cried and tried pushing him away with my feet. He stepped back, his smile never fading. I covered my bloody cheek and stared him down.

I had managed to stay free for five years. I wasn't about to fall into another mage's trap. I wasn't going to go back. I would rather die trying to escape the Radio Mage than go back. I knew his patience was thin and nothing immoral was off the table for him.

He reached up and touched his cheek, his claws coming back with a dark liquid. He looked down at his fingers before slowly meeting my eyes. That's when it clicked. I felt a rush of cold reality over my body. Matching cuts. A soulmate match.

I put both hands in the ground and pushed myself up. I ran down the alley, jumping over my attacker, and bolted for my home. I tripped several times but nothing was going to stop me. People stared at me as if I had seen a ghost. They didn't know that I had seen worse.

Everything hurt by the time I reached my apartment. I hadn't seen him since the alley so I hoped that meant I had lost him. I fumbled with my keys, struggling for several minutes to get the small key into the lock. I fell into my apartment and slammed the door shut with my feet. I turned the lock and crawled into the corner of the living room. I hugged my legs and stared into the dark apartment. Everything was spinning and unnatural colors jumped out at me. I felt jittery, like everything inside me was buzzing.

I stayed there for several minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door. What was I thinking? I had just led the most powerful mage on this side of the country to my doorstep. I should've hid somewhere else. He of all people could follow someone without being noticed.

The only tell of time was the old clock on the fireplace mantle. I stayed in the corner for nearly forty-minutes, unmoving. Time seemed to be past uncharacteristically fast. I blamed the drugs on that. How long before this wore off, again? It wasn't the first time I had ingested this type of drug. It was the drug they used to keep mages from using their magic.

I finally found the courage to stand. I flipped the light switch and walked along the wall to the bathroom. I fell against the sink, clinging to the edge just to keep myself up. For such a small amount it was having a huge effect on me. Had the drug gotten stronger or had it been that long since it was used on her?

I turned on the faucet and gulped down the cool water. I splashed my face and tired to blink away the bright colors. No amount of drinking or splashing could return me to my normal state. I practically choked on the water and finally turned it off, grabbing the towel off the rack and pressing it to my face. I carefully straightened my feet and tried standing up. I felt more sturdy on my feet now. This meant that I had passed the peak of the drug. I was on the hill down to my normal state.

I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him. I slipped and fell into the old tub. I slipped into the corner with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.

"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."

"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."

"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.

"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.

"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.

He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already. "I'd like to have a civil conversation, if you don't mind."

It was another moment before I slowly laid my hand on top of his. He was careful to wrap his claws around my hand and didn't roughly pull me to my feet this time. I stepped out of the tub and let him lead me out of the room. He finally let go of my hand, gliding to the small fireplace and lighting it with a snap of his fingers.

He perched himself on one of the chairs and motioned for me to sit in the other one. I quietly obliged, my eyes never once leaving his smiling face. His trademark cane seemingly appeared in his lap.

"What do you want?" I asked less aggressively this time.

"My my, you're a distrustful soul aren't you?" He leaned his cheek on his hand.

"With my history you would be too," I said.

"What do you do for a living?"

"Anything and everything. Really anything that pays me."

"A tradition-breaker I see," he said. "Most women your age are attending school or doing housework for a master or husband."

"Let's just say I'm not well liked."

"Did you know those men?" he prompted.

"No, but they probably knew me."

"Does that happen to you often?"

"It's not frequent but it's not possible to avoid either," I answered. My clasped hands were sweaty and my cheek pinched from the dried blood on it. He was still sporting the same cut on his own cheek, clearly visible in the firelight.

"What did they want with you?" He was sitting straight again with his legs partly crossed and his hands clasped in his lap. Everything in me was tense and conscious. My hair on the back of my neck was standing up. I needed to get the demon out of my house.

"I used to belong to a fight ring."

"Lovely." His tone suggested anything but that. He looked down at his watch and let out a short sigh. "My my, it's sure getting late. We should be heading back."

"We?" I stood up just as he did.

"I can't leave my soulmate in danger, now can I?" He stepped closed to me.

"I know how to go under again," I said quickly. "I'll be leaving town and changing my appearance. No one will know it's me again."

"Then I wouldn't be able to find you again."  His eyes grew brighter the further we walked away from the fire. I bumped into the kitchen table and tried to put it between me and him.

"I'm sure this will scar and you'll be able to tell it's me." I pointed to my cheek. "Or I could just let you know where I go. That way you know where I am."

"If I bring you with me I'll always know where you are." I found myself staring at a shadow the second his claws touched my shoulder. I turned and he shoved me into the wall by my neck. "Besides, I of all people could keep you safest." His claws squeezed my neck.

"I feel qui-quite safe, I'm okay. I-I assure you." I casted a forced smile up at him. The room seemed to darken around his bright red eyes.

"I'm sorry, dear, it's not a request." He slipped his hand behind my neck and pulled me against him. He slammed his cane down on the ground with a cold THUD. His hand moved behind my back as the floor disappeared from beneath my feet. I instinctively grabbed at him to keep myself from falling. Wind whipped my hair around but I didn't dare let go.

My feet abruptly touched solid ground and the wind died down. I carefully let go with one hand to move my hair out of the way. Around me was a dark forest and the sound of waves crashing was apparent, as was the smell of the sea.

His chuckled vibrated through me and I jumped away. "Where the hell are we?" I turned around to see a dark mansion sitting on the cliff's edge. It's pointed roofs sliced through the light blue of the set sun.

"Welcome home, dear," Alastor said as he walked past. I spun in a circle, seeing nothing but forest and ocean. How far were they from civilization? For his reputation, probably hundreds of miles. Maybe even thousands. I crossed my arms and rubbed them to keep warm.

I turned around to see him waiting for me. His smile was still plastered to his face but his teeth weren't showing this time. He was leaning on his cane, if you called his stance leaning, at the base of the porch steps. I clenched my teeth and forced my feet to take one step after another.

Once I had reached him, he put a hand up to stop me. He tried to touch my forehead but I jerked back, my knees nearly buckling underneath. "Relax darling," he said, "I can ease the drug effect." I forced myself to be still as he swept his palm across my forehead. My vision cleared and the bright colors disappeared. I felt more stable but my magic was still out of service.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Home, dear." He turned and walked into the old house. I looked around once more before following him. Inside looked as dark as the outside. The door slammed shut and the lights abruptly lit up at the snap of his fingers. The house's true colors came through - a deep purple and velvet with dark wood accents.

To the right was the living room that held the warm fire and large windows. To the left was the dining room with what looked like stacks of old furniture and other timely pieces. Did he collect things?

"You don't..." I hesitated, "you don't think...that you can keep me here for the rest of my life."

"I do." He spun his cane and slammed it into the wood flooring. "Because just as you said, lovely, if you die, I die. You have made a name for yourself just as I have. You should be thanking me really," he said walking past me.

"Thank you?" I scoffed.

"I'm doing you a favor. No more of this running from town to town nonsense. Now you have a place to call home and don't have to worry a hair on your head about living to the next day."

"I'd prefer freedom over a fancy cage. I've survived on my own just fine for twenty-one years of my life. I'm no housemaid."

"Then let me put it simply." He stepped dangerously close until I jammed my heels into the door. He leaned down so his yellow teeth were inches from my nose. "You will remain here for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not." The room began to darken. "I have my ways of keeping people in their place. We may share scars but we don't share pain." His face contorted unnaturally and his eyes looked less humane. I felt sick. "You should remember that when you think of defying me. I'm called the Radio Demon for a reason." He abruptly stood up and the lights came back. "Sound good, darling?"

My shoulders fell with my spirit.

[luveline]

Hi don’t know if you’re taking requests (if not please ignore!) just wondering how Halloween would look like in the KBD universe or even a masquerade ball for prince Steve and reader?

thank you for requesting angel ♡ kbd mom!reader, 2k

"I think we should paint her orange," Avery says. 

Steve pushes the wand of his bubbles back into the container, coating it in solution. "What for, honey?" 

"For Halloween! We'll paint her orange and she can be a pumpkin." 

"Oh." 

Steve purses his lips, blowing bubbles over the green grass of the garden. It's alive despite it being late October, mildly crisp underfoot. He can hear leaves crunching under Bethie's boots where she runs around toward the back gate. 

Wren sees the bubbles and giggles wildly. Steve grins. "You like those, sweetheart?" 

"What if we make her green like a witch?" 

"Who, Ave?" 

"Wren." 

"Oh. Well, Wren can't use face paint yet, babe, she's too little," Steve explains, dipping the wand in solution again. "But they're very good ideas. Do you know what you want to be?" 

Avery throws her hands out. She's getting older than he ever imagined her, but she's still so small at the end of the day with delicate little hands and facial expressions cute enough to make a grown man cry. Steve would know, he's cried a ton of times just looking at her. 

"I already told you." 

Steve pretends to remember to spare her feelings as he blows more bubbles. He knows you'll know, and so it's a white lie. Better for everyone. "I remember! You're gonna be awesome." 

She smiles for the first time in ten whole minutes and sits down next to Steve. He offers her the bubbles and the wand, freeing his hands to give her a loving squeeze from either side. "Very good ideas," he repeats, patting her arm.

Bethie comes running with two cupped hands. Steve can picture her find before she shows him, and still he's horrified to see a slug in her palm. It's not big but neither is she, lavishing across the breadth of her hand. 

Ew, Steve thinks. "Wow, Beth! What did you find?" 

"There's snails, too!" she says excitedly, her eyes bright as her attention flickers between the slug and her dad. "They're sleeping, I think. They're stuck to the slide." 

"Beth, listen to me really quickly?" 

"Yeah, dad," she says, nodding. 

"I like that you're being gentle with the slugs, you're being nice, but as soon as you put him down, don't touch your face, okay? In fact, when you put him down, we're gonna go inside and wash our hands." 

Beth looks down at her slug in alarm. "What?" 

"He's not dangerous!" Steve reassures her. "But he might have germs. Germs don't hurt our skin, but they can't go in your mouth, okay? Good girl." 

"He can't hurt my skin?" 

"No, bub. Some bugs can, but not the plain black slugs. How about next time you want to pick one up, you come and get me and we'll pick it up together?" 

Steve doesn't want to kill her fearlessness in this sole area, not when she's usually timid around everything else, but he also doesn't want to kill her full stop. All these random bugs, Steve doesn't know what's what. 

"Okay. I picked this one up because he's got a yellow stripe," she says. Beth speaks in full words and makes sense the majority of the time, but her delivery is clumsy, heavy in places. Steve can still remember her first word. He's a firm believer in taking your time (please. please, let her take her time). 

"You're super brave," he praises.

"Mom says bugs are more 'fraid of us than we are of them." 

"She's right. Think if something this much bigger than you picked you up one day, you'd want them to put you down gently, right?" 

Determination fills her eyes. "Yes." 

She starts to run off but then slows, holding her hand aloft in front of her. 

Closer by, Avery blows bubbles near Wren's soft chair, the youngest baby giggling like a tinkling bell. You and Steve have emphasised to Avery that Wren isn't her responsibility. Look after her as you would your other sisters, but don't feel like being the biggest sister makes you in charge. Avery sort of listened, but now she's planning Halloween costumes in her head, Steve's worried she's putting too much on her little shoulders, as she tends to do. 

"Come here, my big girl," he demands, opening his arms. 

Avery grins and jumps into his lap. Steve groans playfully, happy to be trampled, and just glad she had the foresight to screw the cap on her bubbles before she pounced. 

"Hello. So, do I need to go to the store for this costume?" he asks. 

"Probably."

"Okay. Are you coming with me to choose?" 

"Mom said we're all going after lunch." 

Steve waves her arms back and forth. "I guess we better get ready, then." 

Easier said than done. Steve marches the girls back inside to find you've already dressed Dove and sat her in her chair with her lunch in front of her. Feeding young kids is tough because you're always trying to rotate things to keep their tastes big, but you've given in today to an easy solution; everybody's having pizza subs and halved grapes. So long as they're fed, who minds? 

"Give me the babies!" you say, jumping up from your seat to grab Wren, chair and all, "Hi. Something tells me it's time for a bottle." 

"I'll get them dressed–" 

"Go get yourself dressed. They can eat first." You kiss his cheek. "I put some stuff out for you already." 

"I can do it," he insists. 

"Take a break," you insist back, your tone gentle as velveteen.

His turn to kiss your cheek. "Do you know what Avery wants to be for her costume?" he asks in your ear. 

"She wants to be Belle, she told us weeks ago." He remembers as soon as you say it. "But I don't think finding a costume for her is going to be very easy this close to Halloween." 

Steve doesn't blame either of you for your busy October, but he hates himself watching Avery grow more and more disappointed with every store you drive to. There are no yellow princess dresses to be found, only store brand pinks. Bethie is ecstatic to choose one of those ones and Dove insists on a white fairy costume with sugar paper wings, but Avery's frown grows heartbreaking when it's clear there aren't any Belle dresses to buy. 

"I'm sorry," you're saying, Wren strapped to your chest, Beth and Dove knee to knee in the shopping cart in front of you. "It's my fault, baby, I left it last minute." 

"No, it's my fault," Steve says. 

Avery glares for a while, standing in front of all the dresses. Steve bends down to speak with her. "I'm sorry, Ave. Don't be mad at mom, okay? It's not her fault even when she says it is, she was busy working and I forgot about costumes because I had all that stuff with Wren and the doctors and my glasses and–" He winces. "I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. So be mad at me if you want, I was supposed to remember, but I'll make it up to you, promise."

"I told you ages ago," she says morosely. 

"I know. You did. I didn't think about them running out of costumes, Avery. Sometimes when you're a grown up you have so much stuff to think of you don't have room for all of it, but that's not fair, huh? Now you don't get the costume you wanted." 

She sighs, but the thing about Avery is that if you understand her point, she runs out of anger, just like her mom. She wants to make up, burying her face in Steve's thigh for a hug. 

"What am I going to be now?" she asks. 

"How about Belle's blue dress, babe?" you suggest. 

"They don't have any Belle costumes!" 

"I know, but we can make one. That's what me and dad did growing up, right?" you ask. 

"All my costumes were homemade," he seconds, "that was the fun part." 

So Avery marches you guys to the normal dresses and together you look for something nice and long enough for her tall stature. It's in the middle of this searching when she gasps, jumping up to grab Steve by the elbows. 

Delighted at being forgiven, he bends down at her whim. "What?" he asks excitedly. 

"Wren can be a bumblebee, like me!" 

"You remember that?" he asks. 

"No, but you have the photo in the car. Do you still have the costume?" 

It's Steve. Of course he kept the costume, he keeps everything, an attic stuffed to bursting with the offcuts of your lives. You giggle from the landing underneath him, the baby in one arm and a spooky drink made special by Dove in the other hand. "I wish you could drink more than milk." 

"Don't poison her!" Steve says, covered in cobwebs and knees white with dust as he climbs down the rickety ladder back onto solid ground. You wolf whistle as he reaches up to close everything safely, and cheer when you see the bee costume in his hand.

"You're the best. Think we should let Avery put it on her?" you ask. 

"Maybe. Think she can be gentle enough?"

Your little girl, so preoccupied with her sister's costume that she forgot about her own? Yes, Avery can be gentle enough. She sews Wren's small arms into the costume's sleeves like she's handling a girl made of glass, and she doesn't attempt to lift her, quick to say, "Dad, can you pick her up for me?" 

Steve lifts her and Wren does her scrunch, legs pulled up high and face a little startled. She's just old enough to giggle, prompting Bethie to join in as she races across the living room rug, the skirts of her dress fluttering against the floor. 

"She looks like a bee!" Dove says, following after, her fairy wings jittering with her movements. 

"She is!" Avery says, buttoning Wren's last button. 

Finally, after an exhausting afternoon (both of energy and your wallets), the four girls are dressed in their Halloween costumes. Avery as Belle in her original blue dress and white apron, not the costume she wanted but clearly her favourite character nonetheless. Bethie wears her pink princess dress and one of Avery's big plastic tiaras, her hair done as you would style your own for date night. Dove twirls in her white fairy dress, silver corset ribbons shiny in the light. Wren gurgles in his arms, her soft wings folded between her and Steve's chest. And you, uncostumed, stand beautiful and tired in the doorway, sparkly eyeshadow in a stripe up your cheek. 

The girls smile at him and their eyes glimmer. 

"Wow," he says, leaning back against the couch. "You guys look amazing." 

"It's about an hour until we're gonna leave," you say, "so please do mommy a favour and watch some TV, okay?" 

You set them up in a line with a bowl of chips each —you can vacuum them clean. Steve cleans as quickly as he can while you wipe your face and put aside some stuff for tonight in case the girls come home hungry, and eventually, eventually, you and Steve make your way to the kitchen table for a quiet minute together. 

"Wren's–" 

"In her bassinet," Steve says. "You're–" 

"Fine." You reach for his hand. "And you're–" 

"Perfect." He rubs the back of your fingers with his thumb. "I've missed you today. I know we were together, but…" 

You slouch into the table, resting your cheek on a placemat and closing your eyes. "Me too, sweetheart." 

He shuffles closer and leans in. "Tired, huh?" he asks gently, pressing similarly soft kisses to your cheek. "Love you," he says. "Don't fall asleep." 

"I'm not. Just resting my eyes." 

He doesn't rub your back, worried it'll send you to sleep. Instead, he kisses all over your face, sloe at first and faster when he realises it'll take a while to cover every inch. You smile and let him do as he pleases, laughing under your breath as he kisses your eyelid, squirming when he pecks under your nose. "Freak," you mumble. 

"That's what I'm being for Halloween."

"What am I gonna be?" you ask.

"Same as every year, I thought. Most beautiful girl this side of the Mississippi river." 

You like the sound of it, pulling your joined hands to your face to nuzzle his knuckles. 

"Or you can be Frankentstein," he suggests. "I'll be the monster." 

"We can just be the two tiredest parents ever." 

"That's not super creative, babe, we kinda do that every day." 

"So I'm not beautiful every day," you say quickly, having set him up. "Knew it." 

"You tricked me." 

"Did not. Make it up to me?" 

"What do you want?" he asks. 

"Just a hug, Stevie." You raise your head to smile at him sleepily. "A really nice hug, please." 

He saves the line about every hug being nice when it's with you and cuddles you, stroking your back for countless minutes, murmuring nothings to you until baby Wren shriek-cries from the living room. Steve soothes her upset, and you start the impossible task of getting everyone in their shoes for a night of trick-or-treating.

[awoogayanderes]

chapter eight : a walk with satan

➪ sypnosis : walking towards a building has never felt this tense, especially since the doctor hasn’t told you his plan

➪ other notes : i’m about a week or so to entering school again so this might be my last writing update until i settle down and actually have time, i’m so sorry i didn’t update a lot this summer, i was taking extra courses for credits and i was depressed for a long while

➪ warnings : sickness ???? if you can even count that :,)

➪ convergence of two opposites masterlist

you horsely cough as you put on a dress mori had bought you months ago. you didn’t have a chance to wear it until now. “cover your mouth when you cough,” the doctor reminds you from outside the bathroom. ‘cover your mouth when you cough,’ you quietly mimic his words.

on a good day, you treat and think of the doctor with much respect but lately he’s been pushing and mashing down your buttons. even now, that this dress he’s making you wear, makes you look stupid. it’s a modest frilly black dress with a ridiculous big white bow in the back.

you frown in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. mori, smiled brightly when he saw you, a contrast to your expression. “i knew my purchase was a good investment,” he says, sounding proud of himself. but it soon falters when you side eye him with a repulsive look.

however, your attempt of a nonchalant attitude quickly fails when you let out another loud cough, this time, into your elbow. the doctor takes two strides towards you before putting the palm of his right hand on your forehead and the back of his left hand on your neck.

there’s a slight frown on his face when he realizes you’re still burning up with a fever. in any other situation, he wouldn’t have forced you to come with him to go see the old man when you were this ill but it was either now or never. whatever that meant, he didn’t care to really explain it to you or he didn’t want to.

“can’t i just stay home ?” you complain as you cough, looking at the bright moon outside. “i’m afraid not my dear, you’re essential to what’s happening,” the doctor says as he hands you a pair of white shoes with black ankle high socks. “why am i dressed like this ?” you ask, frowning.

“you’re asking too many questions y/n, put on your shoes so we can leave,” mori says, obviously getting frustrated by you. doing as you’re told, you put on the shiny shoes, they’re a bit small on you. it’s not much of a bother but you can still feel your toes pressed against the front of the shoes, pressuring them a bit.

you sniffle the runny snot in your nose as you leave your dismal home. you feel like a corpse being forced to do labor, in which the labor is walking towards the mafia headquarters. the doctor walks beside you, his expression is definitely questionable to say the least.

his mouth is pulled slightly downward yet his eyes are indescribable. mori seems to be thinking, and that scares you, it’s never good when the doctor is in silence for too long. “i’m tired,” you yawn as you break out in a cold sweat. the doctor turns his head towards you.

“don’t worry, this shouldn’t take long,” he says, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket before handing it to you. “cough in this if you need to, don’t spread your germs,” the doctor says as he returns his hand into his pocket. you hold the cloth tightly in your hand, wrinkling it.

despite the slow walk, the two of you eventually arrive in front of the port mafia base. you can feel your breath stiffen as your shoes start to drag themselves on the concrete. you weren’t scared, well maybe a little, especially when the doctor refuses to tell you what’s going on.

“come on my dear,” mori sighs, grabbing your shoulders from behind, beginning to push you forward. he must have known that you were extremely hesitant. and maybe he was too, maybe that’s why he brought you along, to share his new burden with you.

as you enter the prestigious glass elevator with the doctor, you let out a cough into the doctor’s handkerchief, this time with phlegm, making you shiver with disgust. but this time, mori pays no mind. as the elevator rises through the floors, your palms become sweatier.

as you approach the top floor, mori grabs your hand, holding it in his own. you thought it was to comfort you but then you realize the intentions behind it when the elevator opens. the guards lightly bow down as mori introduces you as his daughter. so much for comfort.

it had been months since you had last been there, it’s not a surprise that the doctor wanted to clear up any confusion as to why a child would come along with him as a ‘nurse in training’. mori knew you didn’t stand out among a crowd, it was an advantage to him.

the guards look at the belongings in his doctor’s bag before scanning you up and down with a pointed look before allowing the two of you to enter the boss’s room. but before either of you can enter, the elevator dings again, out of curiosity you turn around before your eyes widen in disbelief. it’s the boy ?

it was dazai, he looked the same apart from a few bandages covering his right eye. the guards immediately question the boy, grabbing their guns from their suits before the doctor stops them. “that’s my…new disciple, he just came a bit late,” he says, a confident tone in his voice.

you side glance the doctor as he puts his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it hard, a warning for you to not question him. when the guards lower their guns, dazai silently walks over to the both of you. mori ushers the both of you inside the boss’s room, but now, you’re fucking terrified as tension fills the cold air.

[morriguwrites]

written for prompt: the cops have brought me in for bloodwork for a DWI and oh no my ER nurse is really hot and I'm a fuckup

(cross-posted from my main blog before i created this one. sometimes i write a little dry humor when i'm sick of writing angst or romance)

written for @xenascribbles because it wanted a little humor in its day, and this is the best i can come up with

I just would like to point out that there's no real sane reason to keep a hospital this frigid when it's already 15 degrees outside. I know it's something about keeping germs at a minimum, but rationalizing isn't exactly my forte when I'm busy trying to come off as not-drunk when I’m oh-so-very drunk.

Hammered.

Blitzed.

Gone.

The deputy who has me in cuffs is barely older than I and not convinced. We stood outside for nearly an hour waiting on the warrant to obtain my bloodwork; I'm just happy it's saved me from the holding tank a little bit longer. At least here I can try to catnap some of this booze out of my system.

I still can't figure out how they knew to pull me over. I wasn't speeding, and my constant drunken mantra of "Mustard. Mayo. Stay in the middle" ensured the fact that I was not swerving or drifting in and out of lanes. Hell, I drive better drunk than I do sober.

All I can figure is that they were tailing me as I pulled out of the bar's parking lot. Profiling bastards! This is my first DWI offense and definite overkill on their part. Besides an absolute fuckton of Patron, there is nothing else swimming in my bloodstream.

Speaking of swimming, I must lay my head against the gurney to keep the room from going all topsy-turvy. I wonder if doctors and nurses operate on some kind of backwards fantasy time where two hours really feels like ten minutes to them because besides the triage nurse at the front desk, we haven't seen a living soul since being showed to the room. No skin off my back: the cop gets to get out of the cold, and I'm not sitting pretty behind bars yet. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s against some policy to haul in someone the opposite gender of you. He’s a six foot two giant beanpole of a man, and I’m just a little five foot barely two inches off the ground lesbian woman. What the hell kinda intimidation am I gonna pull on him?

I'm barely drifting off when a feminine voice announces the presence of my nurse. I crack open my eyes with much effort. And whoaaa nelly, this is my nurse. I don't want to diminish her beauty by telling you I was peering through some mighty hefty beer goggles, but Christ, was she radiant.

One side of her short, blonde hair was tucked behind an ear, freckles dusted over a cute button nose, and a bright smile to kill for. Talent truly wasted in the dungeon that is this emergency room, that's for sure. She wraps a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, and surprisingly her hands are not ice-cold despite the cliché that all medical worker's hands stay sterile and freezing.

"Frann---Frances," I slur from her name badge. "I only know of old men and bulldogs named Frances." The thought leaves my mouth before I can stop it and leaves me nearly biting my tongue in two. Fuck. Why am I the way that I am? Thankfully, she smirks in response and cuts her eyes in my direction. Brown eyes. Beautiful.

"It's a family name. After my grandmother."

"Is your grandmother as pretty as you?"

"Jesus." The deputy beside me mutters the oath under his breath as if he also can't fathom the inner workings of my debauched mind. Trust me, my dude, I can’t either.

Thankfully, she takes this in stride and chuckles. “I think she probably was back in her day.” The blood pressure cuff inflates tightly on my arm for a few moments before giving her back a reading she seems satisfied with.

“So, what brings you in tonight?” She knows, and she knows that I know she knows, but I imagine it must be some hospital protocol to ask the patient why they’re there when we clearly told the triage nurse at the front desk the same thing.

“Deputy High-and-Tight here wants some of my blood,” I slur and jab a thumb over my shoulder to the uniform. “Cop by day. Vampire by night. His delicate policeman sensibilities keep him from feeding directly on his victims. So, he drags them in to the ER to get it “legally””. I heavily air-quote the legally portion. Fucking cops.

My narrative does not phase him one bit. “Go on. Tell her how you got here.”

I roll my head on my shoulders and smirk like the little piss-ant that I am. The rolling of the head bit also makes the room spin a little. “Hey, I might be the drunk one, but I’m pretty sure we got HERE in YOUR car. I could be wrong. Could have been a magic carpet ride.”

My mind instantly goes back to other carpet rides I’ve experienced, and I swing my head back towards the pretty lady in the room. She’s still smiling. That’s good. She’s either laughing with me or laughing at me. Either way, if I have her attention I’m golden.

“I think I blew a point ohhh…what was it again, dude…point oh twelvish. That sounds about right. So on the scale of legality, I was nearly able to drive.” I try to stick up for myself on this one. I really was almost at the legal limit. If I had just spent the few extra minutes fishing out my keys from where they dropped under the seat, I might not be in this predicament.

Speaking of dicks, my friend speaks up again. “Nearly able and able are not the same thing. You were drifting into the median.”

“Bullllllshit, dude. I’m a great driver.” I say this emphatically to my nurse, who nods all very serious-like. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was prepping a sterile butterfly needle and specimen tube and already coming at my arm with an alcohol swab.

“Woah, woah, woah. Can you at least take me out to dinner first?!” I try to hold my arm still to the best of my ability, but it keeps drunkenly fish-tailing itself off my leg to flop beside me on the gurney. She finally laughs out loud at this and holds it deftly with her forearm while her hand stabilizes the spot she’s about to poke at.

“Sure. I’m not a fan of Italian or Chinese buffet food. I like burgers, hibachi, and Mexican, though.”

Wait…what? Did that actually work? I was so not expecting that shit to work.

“As long as you don’t get this plastered during our dinner, yeah, it worked.”

Ho-lee crap. I said that out loud. For the first time during this encounter, I feel a flush of embarrassment ride up my neck. Shit. She said yes. What do I do now? I look to Deputy Bust-my-Balls for moral support, and even he looks super surprised that my plan worked. However, he offers no other encouragement on my front.

“Well, sweet. Here, write your number on my arm since I’m pretty sure my phone is in his pocket. Next week sound good? I’ll probably be downtown for a few days, but don’t let that be an opportunity for you to back out, okay? I’ll be a free woman before you know it.” I rush to get all this out coherently before I lose my train of thought.

She finishes getting the vial of blood she needed, and deftly scribbles out her name and cell on the inside of my arm. I stare dumbly at it as if it were going to grow a pair of legs and walk off. 

“It was nice to meet you. Stay out of trouble!” she states, standing up. Before her cute little tush leaves the room, she jerks her head at the cop. “Don’t give him such a hard time, okay? He’s just doing his job.”

I glare at him once she’s left and laugh to see that he’s also blushing. Feeling real proud of myself, I kick my legs up on the gurney and get comfortable. “You work all weekend, Moustache?”

“Un-fucking-fortunately.” He sighs heavily. If I were him and had to deal with me, I’d sigh too.

“Nah, it’s going to be a good weekend.”

[pollencoveredman]

written in pain, written in awe

(cw: mentions of covid, mentions of ED)

“dennis?” mac whispers, craning his head around the half-open door of dennis’s hospital room. “den, you awake, man?”

dennis lifts his head from his pillow and rubs his eyes, yawning. “hey,” he mumbles as mac sits down next to his bed. the lights are off, but through the crack of light coming through the curtains, mac can tell how pale he is. “what… what are you doing here?”

“oh, i work here,” mac deadpans. “coming to see you, dumbass, what d’you think?”

dennis rolls his eyes and sits up, turning the light on next to him. he winces as the room turns bright white, shielding his eyes with a shaky hand. 

“you good?”

“yeah, yeah, just…” he trails off, blinking slowly. “christ, i feel awful.”

mac frowns. “yeah, you sound pretty rough. but at least you’re okay, right? i mean, when dee told me what happened, i was so scared, dude, she made it sound like you died.” he shakes his head, eyes wide as he takes a deep breath. “i’m just glad you’re alive.”

“yeah. guess so.”

“that sheep wool really got to you, huh?” mac jokes, smiling weakly. 

dennis feigns a laugh. he admits it’s a little funny, but he doesn’t want to be laughing at any of mac’s jokes right now. he doesn’t want to encourage him. he’s mad at him. he’s mad at him for not caring enough, for not dropping everything the minute he started showing symptoms of covid, for calling him an idiot for not getting vaxxed (though dennis admits, now, he wasn’t wrong). 

for not being there.

“hey, den, i’m sorry i was a dick before,” mac blurts out, as if he could read his mind. “i was all caught up in being a priest and stuff, i didn’t realise how sick you were and if i knew i totally would’ve come and helped out— i mean, not too much, ‘cause i got shit to do, y’know, and i don’t want all your germs, but—”

“quiet,” dennis groans, pulling the covers up to his nose. “head hurts. stop talking.”

mac blinks. “oh. sorry, man.” he does this a lot. he feels bad about something, tries to apologise, starts rambling, inevitably makes things worse. “i can go, if you want.”

“no, no, stay here,” dennis says hurriedly, voice suddenly thick with desperation. god, how hard is it for mac to understand? he needs him here. just like always. 

“okay, okay, calm down, dude. god.” he catches himself and quickly clasps his hands together, looking up to the ceiling. “sorry, father.”

“thanks for—” he breaks off into a coughing fit, doubling over as he clutches his chest. mac lays a hand on his shoulder, holding him firmly while he waits for it to subside. 

“oh, jesus,” dennis says breathlessly. “thanks for coming here, man.”

mac grimaces. “yeah, of course. that cough sounds nasty, dude,” he comments, his voice a mix of concern and disgust. “you need some water?”

“no, i’m good, it’s just…” he breathes in deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “just really painful. feels like i swallowed a foghorn.”

there’s an awkward silence, bar the sound of dennis’s laboured breathing, as mac runs his hand up and down his back. 

“you can stop touching me now,” dennis mumbles, sniffling. “don’t want you to catch my covid.”

“catch your covid? i don’t know if that’s grammatically correct, den.” mac laughs a little at the sight of dennis rolling his eyes and flopping back down into his bed. “besides, i’m not gonna catch it. i have the power of god on my side; he’ll protect me.”

“sure, asshole,” dennis sighs. “just don’t be an idiot.”

“says the guy who didn’t get vaccinated and then denied he had anything wrong with him until he nearly died.”

dennis groans weakly, triggering another cough and muffling it into his pillow.

“dude, cover your mouth; you’re gonna get all your germs everywhere.” mac chastises. “dee told me some other stuff that happened as well. but i’ll spare you the embarrassment for now.”

“she told you?” dennis says incredulously, sitting up a little too fast. he clutches his head as he feels the room start to spin, tears pricking at his eyes. “oh, fuck… oh, that goddamn bitch. that goddamn bitch.”

mac lays a hand on his knee, patting it awkwardly. “hey, c’mon, lay back down. you look awful, man.” 

dennis glares at him, but obliges anyway. he knows he looks awful. he knows he’s white as a sheet, he knows his hair’s sticking up in all the wrong places, he knows how red his eyes are. he doesn’t need to be told that, to feel even worse about the way he looks when he’s already feeling like this stupid hospital bed should just open up and swallow him whole. 

“den, have you, um… have you eaten today?” mac asks gently. he wants to cry when dennis shakes his head. he knows he shouldn’t be surprised; dennis never has an appetite most of the time, let alone when he’s sick, but he thinks this stupid irish hospital should at least know to keep a better eye on him. 

it’s not like they haven’t tried. they’ve brought him various plates of disgusting hospital food, telling him he needs to eat if he wants to get out of here soon, but dennis has cultivated a wide range of deceptions to get himself out of eating over the past thirty years. those goddamn fools that call themselves doctors should be able to tell, he thinks — not that he cares. 

“please try and eat something later,” he whispers. “you’ll feel so much better.”

dennis chews on his lip, avoiding eye contact.

“please, den. promise me, okay?”

“yeah. promise.”

mac smiles. he knows he probably won’t, but he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. 

“i met this guy at the seminary,” he starts, wanting to keep things light. “he was gorgeous. he looked like an example photo at a barber shop. he was meant to, like, show me around and shit, but i was like, no way, ‘cause how the hell am i going to focus with a guy like that around?” he laughs giddily as he pictures him, but stops himself abruptly as he sees dennis’s eyes starting to close.

“den?”

he clicks his tongue fondly, standing up slowly as dennis falls asleep. he sets a gentle hand on his forehead, slowly moving down to his cheek, his neck, and shit, he’s so fucking warm. though, he supposes, a 105-degree fever doesn’t go down quickly. 

dennis stirs as he goes to leave, and he wonders if he woke him up, but he’s out cold. he’s always been a fairly restless sleeper, so him falling asleep this fast feels like an accomplishment to mac, even if it is a covid-induced nap. 

mac sanitises his hands as he walks to the door, of course, because even if god is protecting him from covid, it’s better to be safe than sorry, especially now that catholic is only fourth on his roster of important identities.

he flicks the light off, making the room eerily dark and quiet if not for the sound of dennis’s snoring. he smiles a little, and even in this state, he’s never been more enamoured with a guy. 

“feel better, den.”

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

okay germs!

thank you to everyone who reached out with recommendations. With the help of the characteristically helpful and kind shameless fandom, I have compiled this list of sickeningly sweet fics to read after a horrid, shitty, irredeemably bad day

there is no angst to be found folks, the only goal here is to get you giggling, so curl up and dig in

Mickey Milkovich’s Guide to Flirting by @whatwouldmickeydo

Mickey Milkovich doesn’t get crushes, fuck you very much Or How Mickey Milkovich learned to stop worrying (so much) and flirt with his crush

High School Sweetheart by lockmyheart

Ian and Mickey run into Ian's colleague, who points out something none of them have considered before.

i close my eyes and wait for the echo by @milominderbindered

Five times Mickey protects various members of the Gallagher clan, and one time they all return the favour.

Because you listen by Yeoldfandomsofmine

Ian Gallagher is not a silent person. He talks all the time and about everything under the sun. Except, the chatter seems to be reserved specifically for Mickey. Now Mickey has to get to the bottom of this and figure out why. It's essential alright?

these days, life is better by @biblionerd07

Ian realizes Mickey is the most romantic guy on Earth.

Visiting Hours (Family Only) by @arrowflier

When Mickey wakes up after surgery, he's surprised by all the faces in his room.

Call Me Baby, Call Me…What? by @arrowflier

It started small, and simple. “Pass the remote, babe,” when Mickey was too busy stuffing his face to turn up the TV. “Come back inside, honey,” when Mickey had been out on the balcony for too long, smoking and staring at their neighbors. But then Ian pulled an Ian, and things got…weird.

The Wisdom Teeth Series by @callivich

Lip didn’t think it was possible but Ian is even more sappy about Mickey when he’s hopped up on painkillers from the dentist.

Date Night by @callivich

For Gallavich Week 2021. Day 1 Theme: Post-Series Finale. Despite being married a year, Ian and Mickey go on their first official date.

Milkoviches Don't Get Sick by southsideforever

Milkoviches don’t get sick. At least that’s what Mickey has been telling himself all day. Being sick is a luxury that Mickey has never been able to afford. One-shot about Ian taking care of his sick (and stubborn) husband.

Nobody's Fuckin' Business by Efflorescent

“God your lives are fuckin’ boring if my love life is your only source of entertainment,” Mickey grumbles as he slides into the booth with his beer, squeezing in next to Janelle while Rikki and Dalton take the other side. “She won’t get jealous with you sitting next to me?” Janelle asks and Mickey is almost confused by the question before he remembers that they still think Ian is a woman. In which Mickey's coworkers learn that he has been in a relationship for ten years and the interrogation ensues.

Warmness On The Soul by @bravemikhailo

“Good morning, birthday boy,” he says, and it’s a whisper, warm breath against Mickey’s mouth, and Mickey can’t help but tighten his grip on Ian’s waist, push up on his tiptoes to get at his mouth, whispering, “Soft motherfucker,” just before crashing their lips together, a mess of tangled limbs against the kitchen sink. --- Or, Ian surprises Mickey on his birthday, and they spend the day surrounded by nature.

The Caregiver by @thevioletjones

Mickey cares for his roommate, Ian, in his time of need.

In The Romance Section by kissteethstainred

When Ian moves to a new area, he starts to frequent the local bookstore. Eventually he begins to visit the bookstore for the owner more than the books themselves.

The Shirt by @scurvgirl

When Mickey loves the shirt Ian buys him, Ian starts buying Mickey more things. Just short, cute little ficlet about Mickey's love for bright, patterned shirts.

The Thing About Living by @lalazeewrites

In which Ian Gallagher donates a kidney just to get a date with Mickey Milkovich. That’s it, that’s how it goes. Everyone gets a happy ending.

You're that Someone by matchst_ck

"She watched, smiling, as Mickey’s chubby little hand reached out to pat her youngest brother curiously. It looked like Ian had made a friend." --- Mickey and Ian meet as babies and friendship blossoms. Here are some snapshots of their lives, together.

Sweet Lips On My Lips by skiesbelow

mickey experiences new things after kissing ian for the first time. softness ensues.

from head to toe by andchaos

“Why do you even like Mickey?” Ian's eyes trailed over his legs and back and settled on the back of his head, and in that he had his answer. His favorite thing about Mickey was Mickey himself.

Be My Baby, I'll Look After You by where_havealltheflowers_gone

Five times Mickey tried to propose and one time Ian beat him to it.

Beer & Candy by hypernomad

Mickey Milkovich does not date. Somehow he keeps finding himself on them anyway, though.

golden hour by @iansfreckles

He’s going to count those freckles one day, he decides, right then and there with Ian’s mouth on his. He’s going to find his favorite shapes in them, his favorite stories. Draw stupid little pictures in black ballpoint pen on his shoulders and kiss them, kiss them, kiss them, until Ian’s laughing with that one crooked tooth on display. - - - (OR: 5 times Mickey admires Ian's freckles, +1 time Ian admires his)

The many things Mickey Milkovich has been called by KeepGoing

Ian whispers words to Mickey he has never heard before. Words like beautiful, hot, smart. Ian tells Mickey how brave he is to have endured all the crap in his life. Ian touches him, soft touches, Mickey isn't used to feeling. He's used to rough hands. Punches. Kicks. Shoves. He isn't used to soft fingertips and gentle caresses. He isn't used to butterfly kisses along his jawline and fingers in his hair as he falls asleep to the sound of Ian's heartbeat.

clean slate by @mmmichyyy

“Of course,” Mickey murmurs. “We’re married. We take care of each other, right?” Ian leans in and connects their lips together in agreement, still holding onto Mickey’s hands. “Yeah Mick,” Ian agrees breathily, as he pulls away from the kiss. “You’re my husband. We take care of each other, no matter what.”

Rewind by @energievie

" 'So who made the first move?' It's Steve this time and Anna just nods enthusiastically, clearly having thought about heading in the same direction with her line of questioning. 'I did.' 'I did.' "

lava java by @stocious

He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.

golden by @metalheadmickey

Ian and Mickey connect with each other as they spend some time outside.

Pillow by @iansw0rld

Enjoy a little story about drunk Mickey falling asleep on Ian's tummy, and Ian absolutely adoring it 🥰

You are nice, Mickey by ronnie_vfs

AU. In which Mickey accidentally helped Ian out.

Coming Soon (to a theatre near you) by GrandSelfMythology

Ian and Mickey go to the movies. Mickey wears cargo pants.

Burning Love by 6mgs7

An ER nurse tries to get the details from Ian and Mickey about an allergic reaction they are having, but is unprepared for the story that unfolds.

thats all for now! hope you left this post brighter than when you found it

i have has such a horrendously shitty day, can anyone send some super happy fluffy gallavich fics most people probably haven’t read?

[wtfevenismypage]

Teasing Jerkwad

request: Post Prison Reid having this sense of new found confidence after he’s gotten out. Falls in love with a shy quiet techie girl at the BAU and does whatever he can to make her flustered and blushy just because he’s a cocky arrogant asshole who also happens to be in love with her. Always calling her nicknames and rubbing her shoulders when she’s doing some techy stuff on her computer per his request, kissing her forehead, praising her and holding deep eye contact pls write this I love you so much

Warnings: cursing, 

A/N: I love you too my dear!

The first time you had met Spencer Reid was when he had returned from jail. He was dressed in a suit, a few bruises dressed around his eyes. You had just started working at the office as Penelope’s “liege”. She was basically your mentor.

You were in your corner of Penelope’s office, drinking coffee and browsing on your phone when He and Penelope came in laughing. You turned in your swivel chair, meeting their eyes.

“Hey Penelope...”

“Oh oh oh! You two haven’t met yet! Y/L/N, this is our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid! Spencer this is my liege Y/L/N. She started working a few weeks ago! You’ll love her.”

The coffee in your mouth almost escapes, you had heard of Dr. Reid and his whole jail situation. You had tried your best to gather proof to get him out and actually you were quite successful.

“Reid, Y/L/N was actually the one who gathered most of the proof to get you out of there. Neither of us would go home until we got you out of there, she’s been up almost every night to get you out as fast as possible.”

“Pen! Don’t expose me like that! I’m so sorry Dr. Reid, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

You stumble over your own feet, waving in front of him. You had heard about his germ issue and wouldn’t dare give this guy a reason to hate you.

“Call me Spencer, and thank you so much for everything.”

He seemed so sweet. 

It didn’t last long.

After your meeting with the man he was never too far, He started calling you daily, or even just coming in with requests to look things up. 

“C’mon Honey, just look it up?”

“Y-you’re a genius! Don’t you know this stuff already? This is child’s play!”

“Please?”

He leaned down, your back facing him as you sat in front of your three computers. His arms wrapped around you from behind, whispering in your ear.

“For me?”

A crazy red blush crawls up your neck, slightly annoyed at the tall man. 

“Go ask Pen! I- I’m busy!”

“Okay fine, just real quick can you look up-”

“Out!”

He sighs, hugging you tighter before releasing you and patting your shoulders. He walks away and the door shuts, a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

“Oh my god he’s gonna kill me one day.”

A few days later you’re working your first case alongside Penelope. It’s exhilarating, having to gather information at light speed is stressful, but nothing too bad.

The phone rings and Penelope answers, both of you working your fingers as fast as possible as Spencer’s voice rings out.

“What’s up doc?”

“Hey Garcia, hey princess,” you could feel Penelope’s eyes drift to you, her mouth dropping, “I need you to find someone for me. Try a man who’s been to rehab for drug abuse over three times, also been to jail. White, and married with two kids.”

You do as he says, finding twenty matches.

“Twenty matches.”

“Alright, his kids are between the ages of ten and fifteen. Maybe twins?”

“Two matches. Sending them over now.”

“Thanks princess, you’re the best.”

“N-no issue.”

He hangs up and Penelope turns her body to face you.

“Princess? He calls you princess?”

Your cheeks lit up bright red, embarrassed at her realization.

“Oh you like him!”

“No! He’s a teasing asshole who won’t let me do my job for three seconds without toying with me!”

“A teasing asshole who you you like.”

You try you’re hardest to fight the smile off of your face, but it’s no use, A wide grin has already smacked itself onto your lips at the thought of the hot doctor.

-

-

-

-

-

If only that smile had lasted.

God, Spencer was such a tease it hurt. He always had his hands on you, he was always so close. So damn close to your face, but never for too long. He always left as soon as he got you as flustered as possible.

And you were starting to get annoyed. He’s just been playing with your emotions for so long, toying with you like a kid with a doll. 

“Hey princess, where you going?”

“As far away from you as possible.”

“Awww don’t be like that!”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, which you forcefully shrug off while crossing into yours and Penelope’s office.

“I have things to file Doctor. Please let me work in peace.”

The one and only thing that peeved Spencer was the fact that you never called him Spencer. Or even just Reid. It was always sir or Doctor. It peeved Spencer so much that he grabbed your wrists and pushed you along in the room with his body until you both hit your desks, luckily, Penelope wasn’t in the room, or you’d have pushed him off.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Spencer huh? You hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you! I just... You tease me so much and its the only way... That I can get even...”

He truly couldn’t stop the smile that grew as your words grew quieter with every syllable. You looked so shy and innocent whilst admitting your fault. He just wanted to ruin your innocence right then and there.

But he knew better than that. Instead, he released your wrists and set his hands on the sides of your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You flushed into a deep crimson color, looking down in embarrassment.

“You were trying to fight by calling me doctor? Really? You couldn’t think of anything better?”

He asked, crouching down to your height to meet your gaze. His watching eyes only made you blush harder.

“Well I was going to ignore you but I was gonna miss you.”

Your lips were pursed as you whine, your hands awkwardly sticking to his forearms as he continues to smirk.

“Aww Sweetheart... You are so fucking adorable.”

He says before leaning in, pausing briefly to check for any signs that you don’t want this, but when you close your eyes, tilting your head up slightly, he leans in further, melding your lips together.

His lips are soft, plump, they feel like they were made for yours specifically. They felt so perfect. So wonderful.

When he pulls away, you can still feel his smile even before you open your eyes. You could feel how he had waited for so long to kiss you.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

a simple nod was all he needed to answer his question.

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016​ @spencer-reids-snow-white​ @sheepfather​ @eusuntgroot​ @libradolan​ @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @secretpickleprofessordean @aquarius-pisces-rose​

[movedbl0g]

Skz reacting to you being sick

A/N: I’m actually kinda sick right now (it’s just a cold so I’m still good) and this idea popped up in my head ~ i hope you guys like it!!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: sickness, slight swearing(only once)

————gifs belong to their original owners————

Chan:

We all know that he takes care of other ppl VERY well

I feel like he would check up on you frequently and bringing you the stuff you need

Would not leave your side, would try to comfort you in every way possible

“Y/n??”, Chan called through the apartment after he opened the door and saw that all the lights were turned off. He walked further into the apartment looking around , but there was no sign of you.

When he finally opened your bedroom door he saw you laying in your bed, covered in blankets with a pile of tissues besides you. As you noticed his presence,you gave him a weak smile that was probably not even visible due to the dim lights.

“Are you okay??”, Chan asked, sitting down on your bed and giving you a little kiss on the forehead. You just shook your head no while you clinged on Chan, in which he responded with a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you into his lap.

He just held you for a while,his hands sliding through your hair and light kisses in your forehead from time to time.

“Do you need me to get you anything??Should i get some meds??”, he asked after a while but you just held him closer.

“No,don’t worry,cuddles are enough for now”

Lee Know:

He would try to cheer you up and distract you from your suffering fhchrhdh

He would cook some comforting food like soup for you

We would insist on doing everything thing for you so you can take proper rest

You just texted him that you couldn’t make it to your date today because you weren’t feeling that well and now, ten minutes later he already stood at your door step, a bag of groceries in his left hand and a bag with different medications in the other.

“What are you doing here lino and what’s all that stuff for??” You asked as soon as you opened the door and got a sight of him being packed with stuff.

“I didn’t know what you needed so i brought all different kinds of medications and since i already was about to come over i also thought that i can cook something for you so you can take proper rest”, he started talking with a pout on his lips.

As he started cooking you tried to help him but he immediately scolded you, saying that you shouldn’t spread all of your germs around and should rest on the couch instead while he will cook for you.

(Small time skip)

“This soup was amazing lino!! i already feel way better now and i can help you clean the kitchen-“

“No you’re not doing anything but rest, you’re sick baby!!”

Changbin:

I feel like he would give you A LOT of cuddles to make you feel better

Would try to make you laugh and lift your mood

But would also give you the rest you need

you couldn’t really sleep last night due to your horrible headache, that wouldn’t get better even tho you took several painkillers and tried to avoid anything that’s bright,it just wouldn’t get better.

When Changbin visited you after he was done with practicing for the day and turned on the lights, you immediately responded with a groan, causing him to immediately turn off the lights again while giving you a worried look.

„What’s wrong honey??“, he asked while walking up to,laying himself on the bed right next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around and holding you against his chest.

“I’m not feeling that well and i think I’m really hot...i should probably check my temperature...” you said while nuzzling your head into Changbins chest. “But honey”, he chuckled, “you’re always hot”

You playfully slapped him as response, making him ruffle through your hair so it looks all messy and it eventually turned until a play fight, until you held your head,mimicking that it hurts a lot.

Changbin immediately stopped and laid you down in the bed again, tucking you under the blanket,giving you one small kiss on the forehead, saying that you should rest now before he left the room.

Hyunjin:

So we all know how dramatic he is

So i can definitely imagine him running around and screaming after telling him you’re sick

He would keep his distance so he doesn’t get sick too but would still take care of you really well

Would order your favorite food and watch a movie with you (plus he probably would give in to cuddles after a while too)

“WHAT”, he yelled out dramatically, eyes and mouth wide opened. “WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE A COLD WHAT IF I GET SICK AND-“

“Hyunjin, calm down it’s just a light cold and it’s almost gone again-“ you tried to calm him down, reaching out for his hand. “Ahhh don’t touch me- all of your germs are on my hand now-“ he dramatically said while walking away from you, shaking his hands as if it would shake of any germs.

You rolled your eyes,seeing Hyunjin running out if the room completely panicked and at this point you couldn’t even tell if he was teasing you or if he was serious.

He didn’t return for a quite long time, you got a little bit suspicious, but after a few more minutes,he returned with a grin on his face.

“I thought you died because you drank hand sanitizer or something to get rid of the germs-“ you teased him, cocking up your eyebrows while looking at him.

“Not that buuuutttt”, he then replied, a smirk appearing on his face,” i ordered your favorite take out food and I’m willing to watch a movie to you, but only with a safe distance,okay”

“Thank you babe”, you smiled at him and blew him a kiss afterwards “but are you sure that you don’t wanna cuddle??”

Jisung:

I feel like he’d be really panicked at first

“are you sure that you’re okay??do you need any meds??maybe you should go to the doctor i can-“

After making sure that you’re not dying, he’d make sure to give you a lot of cuddles and kisses (but only on the cheek/jawline/forehead kisses)

Jisung was completely freaked out when he say you sitting in the couch, wrapped up in thousands of blankets, tons of used tissues laying around you and your face red from the fever you were having.

He immediately dropped all of his bags, running up to you grabbing your hands full in panic, looking you in the eyes like your about to die.

“Are you okay??”, he asked with big eyes squeezing your hands.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little cold”, you said in a raspy voice, forcing yourself to give him a little smile.

“Are you sure your not dying??” he continued asking, his face expressions more serious that ever “or do you need any meds?? I can get some for you if you want...and you really don’t wanna go to the doctor...i mean you can go just to be sure....wait I’ll make you some tea, i’ll be right back”

You tried to calm him down a bit,but he already disappeared in the kitchen,coming back minutes later with a huge can of tea.

“And just to make sure that you’re not dying,i guess i have to pepper you with kisses babe”

Felix:

CUDDLEBUG

would not let you out of his embrace

would probably bake some brownies for you because he knows you live them while you sleep

he would just be so sweet and caring in general my heart is melting if i just think abt it ahhhh

You were waking up in Felix’s arms,your head pressed against his chest and his lips resting next to your forehead. As you slowly woke up, you felt a horrible pain in your throat and you noticed that you could barely breathe through your nose.

“Baby?”, you whispered to him,getting a hum as reaponse. “I don’t feel that well, i think I’m going to get sick” you said, feeling him shuffle away a little bit to take a look at your face.

“You really look a little bit sick” he said, his eyes carefully scanning your face. “Do you need any meds or should we go to the doctors?”, he carefully asked while his eyes came back ti yours, making eye contact.

“No i think it’s not that bad,but i like that you’re really warm”, you told him while coming closer to his chest again, the warmth of his embrace sending shivers down your spine. He immediately held you closer, his long arms wrapping around you and carefully drawing circles on your beg,until you drifted of to sleep.

When you woke up it was way brighter,so you probably slept for a few hours. When you noticed that Felix was gone, you let out a small cry, but you immediately got distracted by the smell of fresh brownies.

Just now the door opened,Felix walking in with a cup of hit chocolate in his one hand and a plate with a brownie in the other.

“Here, to make you feel a little bit better” he said while handing you the plate and a fork, giving you a huge smile.

Seungmin:

I feel like he would be similar to Changbin

We would look super concerned at you with his puppy dog eyes

Would try to make you laugh with corny jokes

CUDDELS

You told Seungmin that you were sick before he came over,warning him from yourself, but when he came over and actually saw how sick you looked with glassy eyes, a red,runny nose and burning hot cheeks.

He looked at you scanning you from head to toe, his puppy eyes furrowed concerned, slowly walking up to you. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were THAT sick??”, he asked worryingly while pulling you into a hug, the tone of his voice almost making your heart break.

“It’s really not as bad as it looks”,you reassured him,your hand gently rubbing over his back. “But did you bring the thermometer, i think i really should take my temperature”

“Of course”, he said with a smile, breaking the hug to reach into his bag,grabbing the theometre and holding it against your forehead

“And??what does it say??”,you asked curiously.

Seungmin just let out a little chuckle before saying “well,you know..... i always told you that you were hot as fuck....”

Jeongin:

I think we wouldn’t quite know what to do bc the others always took care of him

But he‘d definitely make you some warm tea to make you feel better

Would probably end up calling chan for advice lol

This poor baby got so concerned when you started sneezing nonstop and would rest, but now that you were in your bed, basically knocked out from your fever.

“Uhmmm...is there anything i can...like give you??” He asked,his voice filled with uncertainty. “

“Yes please”, you groaned,”i really think that i need some meds”

“Uhmm sure, I’m gonna look at what i have here, but i already made you some tea, so drink that while i be looking for...uh whatever medication that will make you feel better...just uhmm...wait here...”, he said while placing a cup of tea on your nightstand.

As soon ad he disappeared to look for the right meds, he called chan.

“Channie, i really really need your help....you know y/n is sick and i don’t know how the right medications look like....yeah i need something against fever....the one with the red or blue label?? And do we have to go to the doctor or-“

🖤masterlist

[illicitlimerence-writes]

boys have cooties │ t. holland

pairing: middle school teacher!tom holland x middle school teacher!fem!reader warnings: like two or three curse words, kids, overall it's pretty much fluff. maybe some spelling mistakes. word count: 2k a/n: hi, hello. english isn't my first language, so please be kind. this is the first thing i've written in so long so i'm sorry if this sucks. gif ain't mine, creds to the owner!

"mr holland?" "yes, my friend?" he said, crouching so he could be eye level with little natalie. "do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, her pretty green eyes shining brightly. his mind immediately went to the gorgeous (y/e/c)-eyed girl who owned his heart.

"why do you ask that, friend?" he pulled a chair from the table next to him and sat in front of her. he watched as an adorable frown set on her face, cheeks flushing.

"yesterday i was playing in my room and my sissy was watching a movie with a boy. i wanted to watch tangled so i went to the living room and she was kissing him!" she said, banging her hands on the table as if it was the most scandalous thing she'd ever seen.

"really? and what did you do?" he asked, biting his lips and trying his hardest not to grin at the wholesomeness of it all.

"i screamed, and she was really mean, she told me to go to my room and leave her and her boyfriend alone. do boyfriends and girlfriends make you mean?"

"well, no. a boyfriend or girlfriend is supposed to bring out the best of you. i believe what happened was that maybe she was maybe a bit embarrassed about you seeing them together," he explained as carefully as he could to the six-year-old. he loved teaching little kids, but there were times like this when he had to try to put into simple words something as abstract as the concept of love and relationships. he wouldn't change it for the world, though. there was nothing like seeing the mesmerized expressions on each of their faces when they discovered something new together.

"okay. but i don't think i will ever have a boyfriend. because boys have cooties and germs." she said confidently. he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from his lips. little natalie pressed her hand against her mouth, giggling as if she'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

"natalie! boys don't have cooties." he tried to stop her from laughing, but her giggles only got louder.

"yes they do!" she continued laughing, only stopped when they heard a knock on the door. you walked in, in all your beautiful glory.

"hey ba-buuuddy," you played it cool when you noticed the small child sitting in front of Tom.

"hi, miss y/l/n!" natalie greeted you cheerfully. you gave them both a bright smile, "can you tell mr. holland that i'm right?"

"she's right," you said immediately, winking at her.

"so you agree that boys have cooties?" tom asked, lifting his eyebrows. you grabbed a chair and sat next to him, and grabbed his hand under the table. he interlocked his fingers with yours, squeezing them.

"duh! obviously!" you nodded, which only made the six-year-old to laugh even louder.

"i told you!" she said, pointing a finger at tom. you looked at him, scrunching your nose as you smiled.

"so does that mean i have cooties?" tom asked, his eyes darting between his young student and you.

"no!"

"yes!" you and natalie said at the same time. while the young girl denied it, you played along and accused your perfect boyfriend of having the childish disease.

tom stared at you with his mouth in a perfect o. the six-year-old's laugh could now be heard from outside of the room.

"i'm offended," tom said as he placed a hand on his chest, you chuckled and winked at him.

you were about to make another snarky comment when the loud bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

"saved by the bell," you said dropping his hand and standing up. tom's students began rushing into the room, surprised to see you there.

"miss y/l/n!" the kids cheered.

while tom preferred the joy of teaching new things to the littlest, you enjoyed the challenge of the eldest. your young age was definitely an advantage you had when it came to teaching. you knew the stress and anxiety that school could cause some of the kids and were always flexible with your assignments and your way of teaching. now on your third year as a teacher, you'd heard kids saying they could not wait until they reached fifth grade so they could have you as their teacher. it was safe to say everyone at school loved you. always kind, always giving the best advice, always having the best snacks.

"oh, my goodness! i am never leaving this classroom, you are the cutest little things in the entire world!" you said as they ran to you and hugged your legs.

"go away y/n, they're my kids," tom said faking hurt when he saw the lovestruck expression on the little ones' faces, but his heart fluttered when he saw how they loved you as much as he did.

"i think they love me more than they love you, tommy-boy," you said, a cheeky grin on your lips. he wanted nothing more than to kiss you senseless. but instead, he gasped, eyes widening as he looked around at the kids, some laughing, some ran to tom and hugged his legs as well, meanwhile the others stayed by your side and held you tighter.

"i've been betrayed, and by my own younglings." he dramatically fell to his knees and all the kids rushed to his side, saying how they loved him as much as they loved you.

"no!"

"we love you too, mr. holland!"

"i like miss y/n better."

"you two are my favorite teachers!" loud screeching filled the room, making you laugh.

"okay, kids. go show mr. holland your love, i've gotta go deal with my own munchkins. it was lovely to see you today, remember to drink water, make good choices and listen to tommy-boy here," you ruffled some heads and high-fived hands as you walked backward toward the door.

"alright everybody, let's thank miss y/l/n for stopping by. say goodbye and settle down," tom switched into teacher mode, and you felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you saw him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. biting your lip, you sent him a small wink as a new wave of voices filled the room.

"bye, miss y/l/n!"

"i love you!"

"come back soon!"

"can i go with you?"

"have a nice day!" you smiled and waved at them. giving tom a small nod and a knowing look, you rushed to your classroom at the end of the hall.

you loved your kids, messy and loud and moody.

when you walked into your room you saw most of them sitting and chatting with their own small cliques, but when they heard the sound of your shoes approaching some of them turned their heads to see you.

immediately, the loud voices filled the room.

"where were you?"

"can we watch a movie?"

"i need to use the restroom!"

"you're late!"

"yes, you can go to the restroom. no, we're not waching a movie today. yes, i know i'm late. i was in mr. holland's classroom visiting my favorite kids in the entire school" you answered, lifting an eyebrow and laughing when you saw their reactions.

"hey!"

"not cool!"

"i like him better anyways"

you continued to laugh as you moved your hands, finally getting them to quiet down.

"that, ladies and gents, was a joke. i was kidding. i wouldn't trade my babies for anything in the world" you said as you sat on your desk, folding your legs underneath you.

"miss y/l/n?" a girl raised her arm, you looked up

"yes, alice?"

"i saw you and mr. holland in the morning, you were holding hands." she said, cheeky grin on her face.

"oooooohhhh, miss y/l/n has a boyfriend!" shouting began again. you tried your hardest to suppress the smile that was threatening to settle on your face. instead you bit your lip hard.

"you woke up and chose violence today, alice," you admitted, making them all laugh. "mr. holland and i are just friends, my babies." you said, knowing how they hated when you called them that. "now, we've already lost too much time, let's get to work. everybody take out your books and-"

-------

at the end of the school day, you stayed behind sorting through papers and planning your classes for next week. when you finished, you put your things away, grabbing some papers you needed to grade and putting them in your bag. a knock on the door grabbed your attention.

"hey, baby," you greeted tom. he walked to you, threw his arm around your neck and pressed a kiss on the side of your temple.

"you ready, darling?" he asked, taking your bag from you with his right hand and grabbing your own with his left one. you nodded, lifting your joined hands and kissing his knuckles. you noticed the way his cheeks flushed pink. and it warmed your heart knowing even the simple gestures still made sparks fly between you two after years of being together.

"yes, mr. holland," you teased, locking the door behind you, interlocking your fingers with his again.

"took me a while to quiet them down after your visit, wouldn't stop talking about you," he squeezed your hand, making you grin.

"oh, you should've heard my kids. alice saw us holding hands in the morning. they think you're my boyfriend." you lifted an eyebrow. letting go of his hand when you reached his range rover. the parking lot was now empty. he opened the door for you, you climbed in the passenger seat as he put your handbag and his own backpack in the backseat.

"really?" he asked, you hummed in response. you moved so you were facing him standing outside. he placed his hands on your thighs, your hands immediately finding his. "if they only knew..." he said, letting go of one of your hands, his fingers traveled to your neck, under the collar of your shirt, and toyed with the delicate gold chain around your skin. he lifted the chain, a sparkly diamond ring sitting there like a charm.

"if they only knew..." you repeated his words, hands traveling to his face, cupping his cheeks. your thumb played with lips and he moved his head to kiss it.

"when do you think we should tell them?" he asked, leaning down, resting his forehead against yours, noses brushing together.

"i don't know. they're gonna lose their shit when they find out," you chuckled, earning one from him as well. "we'll have to tell them before the wedding, though. otherwise, my kids will feel betrayed. they're already mad because i told them i'll be gone for a month."

"but it'll be during the summer holidays," he frowned, a beautiful smile forming on his lips.

"i know, that's what i said. apparently, they still think i live in the school." you shook your head, laughing.

"i can't wait until we have our own little ones," he admitted, hiding his face on your neck, fingers still playing with the ring that he gave you almost a year ago on your two-year anniversary. you smiled, your arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"me neither, then they'll really lose their shit. can you imagine?" you giggled as you felt his warm breath hit your sensitive skin behind your ear.

"i love you so much." he said, pressing small kisses on your neck, traveling up to your jaw, your cheek, and finally your lips. your thumbs tracing invisible circles on his cheek as his lips met yours.

"i love you, too. so, so much." your hands moved to his hair, fingers running through soft curls. "now, take me home, mr. holland. your fiance is getting hungry." you both chuckled, hands finally letting of eachother, you settled in your seat as he gave your lips a small peck before closing your door.

"how's mcdonald's sound?" he asked when he climbed in the driver's seat, starting the car. like magnets, your hands met halfway and you rested your arms on the console between you two.

"with you, everything sounds perfect." you admitted, meeting his bright brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when he heard the words you spoke. he lifted your joined hands and kissed your knuckles, once, twice. all the way until forever.

[lightcreators]

Transforming  the  dullness  of  an  perceived  world  inside  an  universe  of  color  had  been  something  he  had  been  struggled  with  since  childhood.  If  he  would  have  been  as  ambitious  as  his  brother  and  not  contenting  himself  of  the  shadows  of  the  backstage,  in  which  his  genius  would  serve  otherwise  ---  he  would  have  transformed  the  entire  society  in  middle  of  higher  spheres,  for  feeling  terribly  bored  and  miscontent  of  everything  he  would  have  saw.  Nevertheless,  for  better  or  worse,  it  has  been  the  position  took  by  Mycroft,  in  which,  inside  throne  seat  of  the  gouvernement,  was  playing  around  power  threads,  and  used  his  intelligence  for  imposing  some  kind  of  control,  in  which,  his  brother,  seeking  knoweldge  endlessly  as  an  special  quest  was  an  perception  of  the  world,  was  dullness  he  could  perceiving  upon  his  little  brother  who  wasn't  that  much  advanced  than  him.  Tricks  losing  their  interest  by  the  moment  the  method  was  understood,  which  always  has  been  his  case.  He  would  understand  the  manner  an  bright  sun  would  be  made,  where  the  lights  would  coming  from,  would  put  his  eyes  on  the  mecanishm  of  the  illusion.  Each  element  of  the  world  was  associated  then  with  same  monotomy  ---  who  looked  brilliant,  who  sounded  amazing  for  another  eyes,  when  his,  would  be  able  to  comment  the  underlines.  It  was  an  every  day  problem,  and  even  since  Watson  was  at  his  side,  he  did  perceived  more  colors  than  before.  He  came  to  appreciating  some  grayness  elements  of  this  world,  though  was  forced  to  keep  his  mouth  limited  towards  immediate  conclusions  by  moments.  Mechanisms  that  were  more  obscure  to  understand  came  from  the  psyche  itself,  and  the  twisted  mind  of  a  criminal  to  understand  where  the  gear  had  ended  up  going  off  the  rails,  was  an  interesting  study.  The  illusion  wouldn't  be  immediately  visible,  germed evil  that  resulted  from  it  was  often  hidden  by  other  appearances,  and  this  made  the  discovery  just  as  stimulating to watch upon.

❝   I  need  to  know  and  I  cannot  know  ---  a  heavy  paradigm.  ❞  He  confirmed .  Flattered  by  the  compliments,  further  amusement  born  within  his  features,  speaking  of  an  cage  …  The  world  itself  was  an  cage  in  which  he  was  merely  a  bird  seeking  to  find  interest  on  the  smaller  universe  he  was  supposed  to  live  inside.  Everything  outside  the  cage  belonged  to  everything  that  doesn't  belongs  to  this  world,  which  was  another  domain  in  which  no  immediate  proofs  would  show  up  along  the  way,  in  which  conclusions  would  be  another  quest,  in  which  he  might  never  becoming  back  inside  that  concerned  age.  ❝   It's  an  never-ending  chase  in  which  boredom  would  never  grab  me  one  day,  for  be  endlessly  haunted  to  seek  more,  to  know  more,  to  explore  every  corner  I  hadn't  yet  explored.  ❞  There  was  an  further  playfulness  as  he  allowing  himself  to  confess  such  sentiment.  ❝   The  rest  of  world  already  slip  though  my  fingers,  Asriel,  only  I  was  saved  by  an  doctor  on  the  pick  of  time.  ❞  Without  Watson,  his  dullness  would  have  becoming  only  thing  he  would  have  known  of  the  world.  Without  Watson,  the  rest  of  the  world  wouldn't  has  been  interesting.  Attentive  ears,  devoted  compassionate  heart  and  sharp  eyes  would  have  lost  themselves  inside  the  mysteries  who  captiving  him,  forgotting  to  himself  he  was  more  than  an  mind  needed  stimulation.  Watson  remembered  to  himself  he  was  human.  Watson  remembered  to  himself  he  wasn't  simply  determinated  by  his  genuis,  though  indirectly,  he  received  many  lessons  about  subtilities  of  the  world,  and  reveived  common  reminders  how  the  rest  of  the  world  didn't  needed  all  truth.  ❝   Watson  is  the  reason  I  still  find  pleasures  in  middle  of  monotomy  ;  meanwhile  I  dwell  himself  further  into  the  unknown  ;  and  know  how  to  draw  a  line  who  has  been  crossed.  ❞  It  wasn't  something  he  wished  to  talk  about,  but  his  explorations  sometimes  involved  dangerous  games  towards  his  own  body,  in  which  Watson  was  offended  at  the  sight.  Lot  of  things  were  made  for  taking  in  consideration  John  feelings,  even  if  remained  unexpressive.  He  wasn't  impressed  by  the  returned  excitement  he  grabbed  into  Asriel,  for  enjoy  it  instead.  ❝   Do  you  think  shadows  can  be  easily  controlled  ?  Do  you  think  criminal  themselves,  even  pretending  themselves  ruler  of  such  realm,  actually  know  something  of  the  world  they  believe  they  part  of  ?  ❞  He  firstly  bouncing  pack.  ❝   Power  is  an  impression,  an  inner  sentiment,  which  is  ephemeral,  which  requires  a  controlled  observation  of  each  circumstance  which  could  divert  the  established  objective.  A  throne  is  constantly  threatened  because  it's  a  symbol,  a  representation  of  the  human  in  front  of  the  divine  but  which  compared  to  it  can  quickly  be  removed.  Only  a  divine  could  allow  himself  to  be  omnipotent,  to  have  such  power  that  no  one  would  question  it  and  no  one  would  dare  to  touch  it.  Isn't  that  an  even  more  boring  position  ?  Never  knowing  peace  since  uncertain  threats  could  appear,  what  is  point  of  looking  for  this pressure demanding  constant  representation  of ourselves  ?  ❞

An  moment  of  silence  followed  towards  the  implication  of  that  next  questions.  ❝   Some  circumstances  require  frontal  ignorance.  ❞  He  simply  expressed  quietly.  ❝   An  ignorance  in  which  I  would  be  responsible,  and  yet,  would  bring  truth  in  middle  of  these  same  circumstances  that  need  it.  ❞  There  was  another  moment  of  silence  before  giggling.  ❝   Ah  !  Knoweldge,  as  precious  as  they  are,  aren't  always  anchored  in  stone,  which  is  all  the  interest  coming  from.  Once  conquered,  once  established  as  an  truth,  once  confirmed  as  something  indisputable,  can  be  considered  as  an  known  knoweldge.  Nevertheless,  it's  fragile  elements.  Sometimes  associated  informations  can  change  along  the  way,  sometimes  what  we  supposed  could  be  wrong,  hence  there  is  always  an  need  to  be  flexible  regardless.  Do  you  understand  now  the  boredom  coming  from  that  need  of  power  ?  Every  foundation  of  truth  can  someday  be  destroyed  because  matter  of  a  raw  knoweldge  can  be  adaptive.  Even  raw  truths  can  be  filtered  by  the  mind,  which  is  really  an  interesting  protection  of  the  brain.  ❞  There  was  another  laugh.  ❝  It's  an  endless  chase,  as  you  put  it.  It  can  be  extanded  until  smaller  details  such  as  those.  ❞  Calming  down  himself  there  was  realization  he  pretty  much  answered  also  some  of  his  following  sentences,  before  pondering  to  the  next  question.  ❝  It  would  mean  the  game  we  are  playing  ours,  in  middle  of  the  foundations  of  our  life,  and  in  which  he  will  have  another  time  impression  to  step  outside  the  game,  to  pretending  not  be  pawn  of  something  we  didn't  see  ---  ❞  There  was  an  heavy  smile  at  that  sentence.  ❝  For  honestly  step  outside  the  game,  it  would  need  to  perceive  something  out  of  his  world,  doesn't  you  think  ?  In  which  freedom  of  exploration  would  be  complete  from  our  perspective,  in  which  they  will  be  no  hesitation  to  have,  and  yet,  having  an  cautious  gaze  upon  the  other  game  we'll  enter.  Everyone  can  become  their  own  kings  or  own  prisonier  of  the  pawns  they  were,  it's  all  depending  of  us  in  middle  of  our  world.  ❞  Another  pause.  ❝  The  game  is  ours  until  other  side  isn't  aware  about  our  next  move.  ❞

There  was  an  following  pause,  in  which  amusement  remained  present  inside  his  features.  In  middle  of  grayness,  there  was  no  colors  allowing  to  feeling  something  else  than  something  who  remained  perceived  no  matter  what  he  look.  ❝  I  am  my  own  deadly  enemy,  you  can  say.  ❞  He  finally  expressed.  ❝  Undecidable  certainties  anchor  me  in  this  world,  but  knowing  how  the  subtleties  of  the  world  are  changeable  like  the  waves  always  keeps  me  alert.  Once  more,  I  don't  seek  control  like  my  brother  does.  My  brother  use  every  bit  of  information  he  could  have  at  his  advantage,  and  lowered  down  his  level  of  understanding  for  make  everyone  else  looking  stupid  for  have  believed  the  preestablished  appareance.  I  picked  freedom  instead,  even  at  the  cost  of  losing  myself  inside  that  eternal  maze  for  understand  each  gear  out  of  curiosity,  knowing  the  end  result  will  only  be  a  temporary  escape.  It's  my  way  of  belonging  to  the  world,  and  I  understand  perfectly  that  it  can  disorient  you.  Have  I  confirmed  to  you  in  our  conversation  somewhere  that  I  feel  that  I  belong  to  this  world,  minus  my  confession  to  how  Watson  made  me  rediscover  other  ways  of  experiencing  his  monotomy  ?  ❞  He  exposed  back. 

It  was  part  of  the  kind  of  universe  he  was,  inside  the  game  but  wish  to  explore  the  outside,  at  the  cost  of  no  return,  at  the  cost  of  never  be  allowed  to  coming  back.  Eventually,  further  playfulness  emerged  as  the  initial  point  he  wanted  to  expose  was  illuminated.  ❝  Tell  me,  how  sure  are  you  every  time  the  unknown  was  indeed  under  your  control,  that  it wasn't an  blind  illusion  your  mind  created  for  protect  you,  and  that  actually  no  one  could  touch  the  bended  game  you've  created  ?  ❞  He  asked  honestly,  as  he  was  curious  of  the  answer.  ❝  An  layout  can  be  controlled,  an  landscape  can  be  created  like  an  scene,  but  in  the  end,  dimension  of  the  script  followed  by  every  one  of  the  actors  depend  of  themselves,  regardless  if  an  director  would  be  present  and  push  them  to  one  direction.  ❞  Oh,  he  was  familiar  with  the  feeling,  he  sometimes  manipulated  circumstances,  but  his  overall  opinion  was  something  further  complicated  to  explain.  He  wasn't  blind  to  himself,  and  wasn't  blind  towards  how  miscontent  the  pawns  would  be  to  been  used,  hence  that  manipulation,  if  needed,  had  to  be  carefully  insidious  for  making  them  believe  they  were  in  control.  Truthfully  ?  He  admired  that  the  most  within  James  Moriarty  mind,  that  falsery  impression  of  freedom  of  the  pieces  he  used.  Then,  there  was  another  laugh.  ❝  A  need  for  certainty,  beyond  a  weakness  or  a  strength,  it's  a  reassurance  of  the  mind  that  you  need,  to  feel  in  control  ---  in  which  previous  words  concerning  the  illusion  of  power  might  make  sense.  There  is  always  something  funny  about  shadows:  there  are  an  infinity  of  them.  Can  you  imagine  that  by  settling  in  the  sky,  you  will  control  every  star  in  the  sky  ?  How  do  you  control  the  infinity,  own  uncontrollability  of  the  forces  of  the  world,  which  probably,  in  their  most  honest  nature,  the  meaning  you  give  will  not  only  be  personal,  and  not  universal  ?  To  have  control  over  something  inconsistent  as  chaos  means  that  you  seek  universality,  which  is  a  far  more  dangerous  quest  than  mine.  ❞  He  noted  carefully  as  there  was  appreciation  inside  his  sentences  regardless,  in  which  he  was  amused  to  explore  such  borders.  ❝  Perceiving  color  in  eternal  gray  constants  that  you  see  of  a  particular  color  is  a  tedious  exercise,  while  venturing  on  shores  unperceived  by  your  gaze,  small  mechanisms  of  the  world  will  give  you  the  impression  that  you  are  the  blind  one.  ❞  He  mused,  amused.  Exploring  mental  dimensions  of  an  human  mind  will  always  remain  his  favorite  game,  especially  when  Asriel's  mind  can  play  equally.

Asriel’s gaze lingered on Sherlock as he spoke, an unspoken understanding simmering beneath the surface of his words. The detective's obsession with evading boredom, with conquering the unknown, intrigued him. Sherlock’s pursuit of control over the world’s mysteries was something Asriel found both fascinating and, in some ways, limiting. To him, the unknown wasn’t something to be constantly outrun or tamed; it was a force to be shaped and bent. He shifted in his seat, his posture relaxed yet the intensity in his eyes revealing that he wasn’t so easily swayed by such conventional thinking. The game was on, and he intended to see it through. ❝Ah, I see. Your pursuit is not simply of knowledge, then, but of the absence of knowledge's grip on you, a never-ending chase. An admirable goal, in its own way. But what happens when the chase itself becomes the cage? When you’re so consumed by the act of evading boredom that the rest of the world, the unknown you’re so desperate to understand, slips through your fingers?❞ He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that mirrored the very idea Sherlock had described. His voice was calm, but the edge to it spoke volumes about the conflict brewing beneath the surface. ❝You speak of controlling the unknown, of creating it by experiencing and mastering every corner of it. But to control something... is to own it. Is that not what you seek? To possess the world through understanding, even if that understanding comes at the expense of all else? You claim not to seek control, but does not the very act of labeling something 'known' imply you’ve conquered it, in your own mind?❞ Asriel’s gaze flickered momentarily, as though considering the paradox of Sherlock’s statement. He could see the detective’s desire to outpace the shadows, to keep his mind perpetually sharp and unyielding, but to Asriel, this was simply a means to an end—one that risked losing the greater game. ❝And you are right, of course. Knowledge is a weapon. But it is also a prison. Perhaps we are all pawns of the unknown, as you say. But I wonder, Sherlock—do you truly believe we’re only pawns, or are we simply the ones too afraid to step outside the game?❞

He allowed the question to linger in the air, the weight of it deliberate, before shifting again in his seat. His gaze never wavered, the thought burning inside him. To bend the unknown to one’s will, to claim mastery over it, was no small feat. But the true question was: Could it be done without losing oneself in the process? ❝You claim knowledge is power, but it’s also an anchor. An anchor that can weigh you down if you’re not careful. It might give you a sense of security, but how free are you, really, if every piece of information only leads you further into a maze? The chase for the unknown becomes not about discovery, but about control. And in that control, Sherlock, you might find that the world becomes less vibrant. Less... alive.❞ His voice softened, but there was an underlying edge to it now—an almost dangerous thought forming in his mind. He could sense that Sherlock, for all his genius, was still held captive by his own methodical pursuit. That was where Asriel differed. He didn’t just observe the unknown, he wielded it, manipulated it, and bent it to suit his needs. To him, the unknown wasn’t something to fear, but something to command. ❝Understanding without meaning is a hollow victory, yes. But sometimes... sometimes meaning is found in the struggle to create it. In the very act of bending the unknown to one's will. You might call it a mental weakness, but I find it more of a strength. The ability to shape the chaos into something... purposeful. Don’t you agree?❞ Asriel’s gaze sharpened, sensing the tension between them. He was drawn to Sherlock’s mind, fascinated by how it worked—how it sought truth in a world that often preferred lies. Yet, in his pursuit, Sherlock had become a prisoner of his own rigid methods. Asriel knew that to break free of the chains of convention, one needed to step outside the rules. ❝But perhaps I’m mistaken. After all, your view of the world seems perfectly... gray. Maybe, in the end, it’s that very grayness that fascinates you most.❞ He leaned back in his chair once more, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched Sherlock carefully, awaiting his response. The game was in motion now, and Asriel was beginning to enjoy the intellectual dance they were engaged in. For all his calculations, Sherlock was still trying to define the world in a way that Asriel already understood: as a fluid, ever-changing force. A force that, with the right touch, could be molded to one’s will.

[uncpanda]

And last one with the prompt “hugs and kisses” and I would let decide if it’s with Bruce, Clark, Elijah or even Oliver 🥰

Thank you for doing the blurb day, it bright my day everytime. ❤️ Thank you.

Let’s go with Bruce, that touch starved idiot needs some love! <3

Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader 

Drabble Requests are closed, I’m just finishing up what’s in my inbox.

“Why is the dog on the bed?” 

You crack open an eye, take in the sight of your husband, because the man is gorgeous, and then you close the eye, because he’s the reason you’re in this mess in the first place.

“Because I’m sick. You brought home some corporate bug and gave it to me.” 

His brow furrows, “I didn’t get sick.” 

This time you open both eyes, “You’re superhero.” 

“A human superhero and germs don’t work that way. Now back to the question, why is the dog on the bed?” 

You glance over at the giant Bernese Mountain dog that’s taking up Bruce’s side of the bed. “He’s laying here in solidarity with me, since you tried to kill me with boardroom germs.” 

His lips twitch and you throw a pillow at his head. You smile when he lets it hit instead of catching it. He crawls onto the bed, and covers your body with his so that his mouth lands by your ear. 

He places a kiss next to it before asking, “How do you feel now?” 

“Not bad. Just a little tired.” 

There’s a rumble in his throat as he places a kiss on you jaw, “I don’t think this is the flu.” 

You scowl, “Yes it is. You’ve killed me using corporate America.” 

"If this were the flu, you’d feel bad all the time.” 

You turn towards him, so he can wrap his arms around you, one of his hands settles on your hip. “I’ve spent the past two weeks emptying my stomach at seven pm. I’m telling you, I’m sick Bruce.”

He places a few more kisses all over your face before his hand slides to your belly and he says, “Or that little project we’ve been working on finally took off.” 

Your eyes go wide, “No.” 

He sits up, smiling, “I think so.” 

You launch off the bed, the dog right behind you and head into the bathroom. Bruce stares at the closed door, “The dog has to watch you pee on the stick?” 

Your yelled responses comes back a second later, “Solidarity!” 

He rolls his eyes and changes into jeans and a tee-shirt while he waits. Three minutes later you pop out of the bathroom holding a stick that reads pregnant, a huge smile on your face. You launch yourself at Bruce and he catches you easily, while you throw your arms around his shoulders and pepper his face with kisses. 

When he pulls back he asks, “Who do you want to call first? My parents or your parents?” 

“Conference call!” And as Bruce watches you scramble for your cellphone he can’t help but think life couldn’t be any better than this. 

[bcdwhcre]

Levi request where the reader is a cadet who gets sick and Levi is just like ‘ew wtf’ but eventually ends up taking care of them? Not necessarily romantic, more of like a parental/mama bear vibe? This has been done so many times but I love your writing lmao ty !!

“Sick Day,” Levi x Reader

This is a cute idea and this gif fits so perfect, I can’t🤧

Summary: you suddenly come down with a bad fever, making the Captain come take care of you.

this one isn’t really romantic or fluffy, just a Captain concerned about his cadet🥺 Nurse Levi vibes

Warnings: noneeeee

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At first you tried to hold on the coughs and sneezes, not wanting to give away that you were coming down with something which would definitely prevent you from doing your job and you didn’t want that happening.

Levi is a germ freak, he noticed a little too quickly that you were sick just by the sight of yo and forced you to go back to bed to take a few sick days.

At first he would cringe when he would peak in your room, seeing your bright red nose and hearing your groggy voice as you coughed and sounded too congested.

The thought of even coming in contact with you disturbed him severely. He never gets sick and that’s only because he made sure he was well taken care of and healthy as well as making sure every Cadet scrubbed the place spotless, no germs.

But after he noticed that you were sick for three days, he grew pretty worried and went into over protective Captain mode. He had stepped inside your room one day, the bandana wrapped around his nose and mouth.

“You okay?” He muttered, resting the back of his hand on your forehead and realized how hot it still was.

“Seems like it’s getting worse.” You admitted, making eye contact with him before he left the room and you had cuddled under your blankets assuming he wouldn’t come back.

But you heard the door creek back open and you seen the basket in one hand and a tray in the other, kicking the door shut behind him. You were confused on why he was bringing you food and stuff but you didn’t want to question it.

Levi had pulled a chair beside your bed, sitting down on it and ripping the cloth from his mouth. He didn’t say a word either, both of you silent and you were watching his movements while trying to hold in your coughs.

He had dipped the cloth in the bowl of water, resting it on your forehead to cool it off and you had worried even more about Levi.

“What the hell are you doing?” You finally asked, the awkwardness you felt as he pat the cloth along your face and he glared at you.

“Shut up, I’m taking care of you. I don’t need my Cadet missing more days.” He scoffed, running the cloth along your face and he forces you to sit up on the bed.

He rested the tray of food on your lap, the bowl of soup still steaming and the glass of tea beside it had made you feel a little better. It was quite a shock to see your Captain be so concerned over your well being and it was more shocking to see him taking care of you, not even your team would do this.

You clamped your mouth shut except for when you took small sips of your food and he had left you for a few minutes before returning with a few bottles of medicine since he didn’t know which one to decide on or which one was better.

“Do you want more tea?” He offered, looking down at your empty cup and you shook your head, watching him fix your blankets.

“You’re acting so fucking weird I don’t even know what to say.” A laugh had left your lips, seeing him give you a side eye.

“How am I acting weird?”

“Because you’ve sat in here for more ten minutes, that’s weird and you’re taking care of me... that’s even more weird.”

“How?” He repeated, his eyes rolling and he sat back down on the chair, pouring one of the liquid medicines into the small shot plastic shot glass.

“Captain, since when do you care for your cadets like this?” You stared at him as he held out the medicine in his hands.

“I am now. Drink it.” He said sternly, making you grab the cup and down it quickly before you could taste the nasty liquid.

You had made a look of disgust, handing the cup back and he set it aside, handing you a cup of water which you also gulped down in an instant to get rid of the taste that lingered in your mouth.

“Like I said, I don’t need you sick any longer. I need you on the field.”

“Hm, okay Nurse Levi.” You teased, making his cold stare on you and it made you crack a weak smile, trying not to cough as your throat tickled.

“Shut up before I leave you here to get worse.” He mumbled, trying to debate if it was worth coming over here to take care of your weak state.

“Whatever you say, Cap. Now fetch me some more tea.” You were purposely pushing his buttons and you couldn’t help but imagine him in a cute maid or nurse uniform and it made you laugh.

“I’m definitely putting poison in it.” He said sarcastically, the annoyance in his tone was obvious as he left the room.

It didn’t take long for him to return and set the cup of tea beside you on the table. He grabbed the cloth that was slowly drying up on your forehead and dipped it in the bowl of water again before laying it upon your hot skin to try to cool it down in anyway.

You took sips of your tea, watching his movements and saw how concentrated he was in making sure you were comfortable and taking care of yourself so you can get back to work, it was a adorable and you appreciated the gesture and the effort he was putting in so you can hurry on out.

“You probably just miss me, huh?” You teased him again and he was quick to send you deadly stare, almost making you choke on your tea.

“Why would I miss you?”

“Because you want me to hurry back to work. Just say you miss me.”

“No, I don’t miss you.”

“Lies.”

Levi had grunted, you were giving him a headache already but deep down he would admit he cared a lot for his team and definitely cared about you enough to come take care of you but he didn’t want to satisfy your ego and admit it.

He sat down on the chair, leaning over to your bed and purposely pushing the wet cloth down harder as the remaining water leaked and dripped down your face making you scrunch up your nose, making the Captain crack a smile.

“Whatever, I know you missed me.”

“Give it a rest, Cadet.”

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Fluffy nurse Levi at your service. Super short but I was running out of thoughts.

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[paper--moons]

Regressor!Aizawa Headcanons

(with cg!Yamada)

As a babyspace regressor, Aizawa has two moods: sleepy baby and giggly baby. While no one is particularly surprised by the former, a lot of people are surprised by the latter mood since he's usually so serious. But not Mic. As his best friend and as his cg, Hizashi knows that when he's regressed that it's one of the few times he's truly relaxed enough to be in such a playful mood. So he does his best to encourage him when he notices that he's feeling so giggly. Even if that means indulging him in his baby shenanigans from time to time.

The shenanigans aren't usually very serious since he tends not to stray too far (he's pretty low energy even in a playful mood), but by far his most heinous crime is his refusal to use his pacifier. It's not that he doesn't like it per se, but that his fingers are so much better in his opinion. Shouta can have his favorite paci clipped to his clothes and still will go for his fingers first. Hizashi always notices of course, and gently reminds him that his fingers are icky. When he notices how he quickly switches to chewing his sleeve instead, he has to hide his smile as he pulls Shouta's hand from his mouth and replaces it with his paci.

That one is a constant ongoing battle, but Hizashi never loses his patience. Not even when five minutes later Shouta has spit it out and has started inching his hand back towards his mouth. And no matter how sneaky he thinks he's being, Hizashi always knows what he's doing without even having to see him when he hears the soft giggles. Ones that clearly communicate that he thinks he's getting away with something big. They get louder after Hizashi turns to look at him, and he not-so-sneakily puts his hand back in his lap, as if Zashi didn't just see him with his fingers in his mouth.

He tries giving him other alternatives too, like teething keys. Just so long as it's something meant to go in his mouth and doesn't carry as many germs. But none of them are as appealing to Shouta as his fingers apparently are, and certainly not as appealing as their little game is. Especially when he takes to "hiding" them or his paci (hiding here typically entails that he's shoved it under his blankie or into his pocket, or even just holding it in his free hand where he thinks Zashi can't see). With the keys and paci successfully hidden, he's free to suck on his fingers instead. Which he does while giving Hizashi the most wide eyed innocent look imaginable when he points out he's not supposed to be doing that.

Hizashi plays along with all of this—until he decides it's time for the tickle monster to help him out and get his baby talking. A few light brushes to his tummy and sides and suddenly both of their faces look fit to split in half with the size of their smiles and the air is cut by his squeals. He raises his voice to be heard over the noise, reminding him that the tickle monster will go away as soon as he knows where the paci went. It doesn't take long for Shouta to give in and pull out the hidden pacifier, which Hizashi quickly wipes clean before popping it back into Shouta's mouth. The war is won, and the victor is Hizashi.

Shouta's playful moods aren't just limited to paci crimes of the highest degree; he commits other shenanigans as well. Another thing that isn't uncommon for him to do is to steal Hizashi's sunglasses (steal being a very loose term, because he struggles to put them on and has to get Zashi's help). Not only are they good for sensory reasons of blocking out yucky bright light, but they make everything yellow which is super neat. The trade-off of course being that the special folder in Hizashi's phone helpfully labeled "baby pictures" gains about twenty new pictures of him any time he does this.

And perhaps most notably, little Shouta is not immune to peekaboo and will initiate the game himself. Hizashi leaves the room to refill his bottle while he's watching cat videos? He comes back to find Shouta sitting up having pulled his blanket over his head. He love loves hearing Hizashi's exaggerated, "Oh no! Where did my baby go?" and how he goes on and on about how if he can't find him he'll have to call in a hero that can. As if he can't see or hear the giggling blanket in front of him. This is about the time that Shouta will yank down the blanket, his "sudden and miraculous reappearance" earning him a kiss to the crown of his head.

[morriguwrites]

written for prompt: the cops have brought me in for bloodwork for a DWI and oh no my ER nurse is really hot and I'm a fuckup

I just would like to point out that there's no real sane reason to keep a hospital this frigid when it's already 15 degrees outside. I know it's something about keeping germs at a minimum, but rationalizing isn't exactly my forte when I'm busy trying to come off as not-drunk when I’m oh-so-very drunk.

Hammered.

Blitzed.

Gone.

The deputy who has me in cuffs is barely older than I and not convinced. We stood outside for nearly an hour waiting on the warrant to obtain my bloodwork; I'm just happy it's saved me from the holding tank a little bit longer. At least here I can try to catnap some of this booze out of my system.

I still can't figure out how they knew to pull me over. I wasn't speeding, and my constant drunken mantra of "Mustard. Mayo. Stay in the middle" ensured the fact that I was not swerving or drifting in and out of lanes. Hell, I drive better drunk than I do sober.

All I can figure is that they were tailing me as I pulled out of the bar's parking lot. Profiling bastards! This is my first DWI offense and definite overkill on their part. Besides an absolute fuckton of Patron, there is nothing else swimming in my bloodstream.

Speaking of swimming, I must lay my head against the gurney to keep the room from going all topsy-turvy. I wonder if doctors and nurses operate on some kind of backwards fantasy time where two hours really feels like ten minutes to them because besides the triage nurse at the front desk, we haven't seen a living soul since being showed to the room. No skin off my back: the cop gets to get out of the cold, and I'm not sitting pretty behind bars yet. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s against some policy to haul in someone the opposite gender of you. He’s a six foot two giant beanpole of a man, and I’m just a little five foot barely two inches off the ground lesbian woman. What the hell kinda intimidation am I gonna pull on him?

I'm barely drifting off when a feminine voice announces the presence of my nurse. I crack open my eyes with much effort. And whoaaa nelly, this is my nurse. I don't want to diminish her beauty by telling you I was peering through some mighty hefty beer goggles, but Christ, was she radiant.

One side of her short, blonde hair was tucked behind an ear, freckles dusted over a cute button nose, and a bright smile to kill for. Talent truly wasted in the dungeon that is this emergency room, that's for sure. She wraps a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, and surprisingly her hands are not ice-cold despite the cliché that all medical worker's hands stay sterile and freezing.

"Frann---Frances," I slur from her name badge. "I only know of old men and bulldogs named Frances." The thought leaves my mouth before I can stop it and leaves me nearly biting my tongue in two. Fuck. Why am I the way that I am? Thankfully, she smirks in response and cuts her eyes in my direction. Brown eyes. Beautiful.

"It's a family name. After my grandmother."

"Is your grandmother as pretty as you?"

"Jesus." The deputy beside me mutters the oath under his breath as if he also can't fathom the inner workings of my debauched mind. Trust me, my dude, I can’t either.

Thankfully, she takes this in stride and chuckles. “I think she probably was back in her day.” The blood pressure cuff inflates tightly on my arm for a few moments before giving her back a reading she seems satisfied with.

“So, what brings you in tonight?” She knows, and she knows that I know she knows, but I imagine it must be some hospital protocol to ask the patient why they’re there when we clearly told the triage nurse at the front desk the same thing.

“Deputy High-and-Tight here wants some of my blood,” I slur and jab a thumb over my shoulder to the uniform. “Cop by day. Vampire by night. His delicate policeman sensibilities keep him from feeding directly on his victims. So, he drags them in to the ER to get it “legally””. I heavily air-quote the legally portion. Fucking cops.

My narrative does not phase him one bit. “Go on. Tell her how you got here.”

I roll my head on my shoulders and smirk like the little piss-ant that I am. The rolling of the head bit also makes the room spin a little. “Hey, I might be the drunk one, but I’m pretty sure we got HERE in YOUR car. I could be wrong. Could have been a magic carpet ride.”

My mind instantly goes back to other carpet rides I’ve experienced, and I swing my head back towards the pretty lady in the room. She’s still smiling. That’s good. She’s either laughing with me or laughing at me. Either way, if I have her attention I’m golden.

“I think I blew a point ohhh…what was it again, dude…point oh twelvish. That sounds about right. So on the scale of legality, I was nearly able to drive.” I try to stick up for myself on this one. I really was almost at the legal limit. If I had just spent the few extra minutes fishing out my keys from where they dropped under the seat, I might not be in this predicament.

Speaking of dicks, my friend speaks up again. “Nearly able and able are not the same thing. You were drifting into the median.”

“Bullllllshit, dude. I’m a great driver.” I say this emphatically to my nurse, who nods all very serious-like. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was prepping a sterile butterfly needle and specimen tube and already coming at my arm with an alcohol swab.

“Woah, woah, woah. Can you at least take me out to dinner first?!” I try to hold my arm still to the best of my ability, but it keeps drunkenly fish-tailing itself off my leg to flop beside me on the gurney. She finally laughs out loud at this and holds it deftly with her forearm while her hand stabilizes the spot she’s about to poke at.

“Sure. I’m not a fan of Italian or Chinese buffet food. I like burgers, hibachi, and Mexican, though.”

Wait…what? Did that actually work? I was so not expecting that shit to work.

“As long as you don’t get this plastered during our dinner, yeah, it worked.”

Ho-lee crap. I said that out loud. For the first time during this encounter, I feel a flush of embarrassment ride up my neck. Shit. She said yes. What do I do now? I look to Deputy Bust-my-Balls for moral support, and even he looks super surprised that my plan worked. However, he offers no other encouragement on my front.

“Well, sweet. Here, write your number on my arm since I’m pretty sure my phone is in his pocket. Next week sound good? I’ll probably be downtown for a few days, but don’t let that be an opportunity for you to back out, okay? I’ll be a free woman before you know it.” I rush to get all this out coherently before I lose my train of thought.

She finishes getting the vial of blood she needed, and deftly scribbles out her name and cell on the inside of my arm. I stare dumbly at it as if it were going to grow a pair of legs and walk off. 

“It was nice to meet you. Stay out of trouble!” she states, standing up. Before her cute little tush leaves the room, she jerks her head at the cop. “Don’t give him such a hard time, okay? He’s just doing his job.”

I glare at him once she’s left and laugh to see that he’s also blushing. Feeling real proud of myself, I kick my legs up on the gurney and get comfortable. “You work all weekend, Moustache?”

“Un-fucking-fortunately.” He sighs heavily. If I were him and had to deal with me, I’d sigh too.

“Nah, it’s going to be a good weekend.”

[poorcelaine]

(preview) super fake love song - l.dh

info: psd creds: @springdoy pairing: guitarist!haechan x leadsingerfem!reader genres: enemies-to-lovers, bandau!, fluff, angst, miscommunication inspired by David Yoon's novel of the same name! synopsis: broke college students and longtime rivals, y/n and haechan team up to create "the best band ever" in hopes of winning the grand prize. warnings: languages word count: TBD (but so far 650) a/n: a preview of my first ever fic! kfgjsflhgds preview under the cut!

Call it faith or destiny. Call it kismet or karma.  

It seems as if for every wrongdoing, every time you teased your sister relentlessly, lied to your parents about where you were going out, and behaved recklessly, God has granted you swift retribution in the form of Lee Haechan. He was a constant in your childhood in the same way skinned knees, growing pains, and rainy days were. Armed with nothing but charming dimples and a big mouth, he proudly babbled your latest mishaps to your parents. 

It was terrible. You wanted nothing to do with him, yet somehow you were stuck with him, from middle school all the way through high school. And just when you thought you got rid of him, lo and behold, Lee Haechan’s name appeared right underneath yours on the roster for Neo Culture Univesity’s Freshman Orientation.  

“You’re like an itchy pimple (name)” he told you back then, “dry and hard to get rid of.”

“If I’m the itchy pimple then you’re the germ-infested finger” you retorted. “You just can’t stay away from me.” 

Ok you weren’t the best at comebacks.

Luckily, the campus was almost big enough to avoid Haechan, and aside from minor spats here and there, you did just that. But two months into the second semester of your freshmen year, the spell was broken with Haechan willingly knocking on your dorm (how did he even know where it was? you later wondered) with a ridiculous plea on his lips. 

“Start a band with me.”

You blinked once, twice, dumbly staring at the boy standing in the hallway, and promptly shut the door on his face. 

Immediately the banging started. 

 “At least hear me out!” Haechan hollered while pounding on the door. “This is a perfect opportunity for the both of us!” 

“Shut it Haechan!” You yelled from the other side of the door. “I’m not in the mood for your ridiculous jokes.”

The pounding suddenly stopped and you heard the distinct sound of some kind of paper being pushed across the door. You grabbed the red flier Haechan pushed underneath, ready to tear it apart into shreds but a certain word caught your eye and you gasped. 

On the other side of the door, Haechan smirked. He was certain he got you right where he wanted. 

“That’s a lot of money, isn’t it (name)?” Haechan said in a low voice. “Enough to finally stop eating that shitty cardboard ramen. Enough to go ahead and finally purchase a normal car.”

Haechan’s rambling went through one ear and out the other. Your eyes were glued to the bright red flier advertising Neo U’s annual Battle of the Bands with a grand prize of 5,000 dollars! A quarter of that money alone could do so many things; pay off the overwhelming amount of tuition money that wasn’t covered by scholarships, buy your plane tickets home, and yep, even help you buy a new car combined with your other savings.  

According to the flier, there was an audition round to even get into the competition and then three additional rounds with separate themes to determine the grand prize winner. Only six bands would be allowed in to partake in the competition which stretched across the entire semester. It would require a lot of effort to balance practice, school, and your part-time job, not to mention the other factor that would also stress you out. 

“You dead? Hello?” said this other factor on the other side of your door. 

Was it really worth sacrificing your sanity and school-life careful balance you worked so hard for during your freshman year for the slim chance to win money? You only had about a minute to think about it. 

Man fuck capitalism. 

You quickly opened the door and almost had to catch a startled Haechan who was leaning against it. You handed him the flier. “Let’s do it Haechan.”

The boy smirked as he reached out and grabbed the flier, nimble fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Call me Hyuck. We’re business partners now.” 

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RELEASE DATE: June 2022!