#poor tired overwhelmed and now he has a headache

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Test Track AU (T$$ AU Masterlist)

previous // next (cw: self harm/suicide attempt)

as suggested by anon!

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me ,

@pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles ,

@echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000

@suspicious-whumping-egg, @cryptidwritings , @painsandconfusion , @grizzlie70 , @bloodsweatandpotato ,

@ladyblogofficialreporter @whumper-soot , @poeticagony , @lthrboy , @unforgivenn

[honey-minded-hivemind]

After watching the end of the security footage, the yans swear they have gone crazy, some shadows seem to move on their own, small items start to go missing in the manor, and those with more sensitive ears swear they hear scratching in the walls at night. Even the kids say things at school are weird. Forgotten homework turns up in their bag, and their lockers had been reorganized. Scott's car gets new tires overnight, and the x-wing always has a full tank of fuel.

Jean wakes up in the middle of the night, needing to use the restroom. On her way back, she runs into Professor Xavier, who had been up late worrying about Reader. They sit and chat in the kitchen for a bit, hoping a cup of tea will calm their nerves and distract them from the scratching they are definitely hearing now.

Both are suddenly slammed with a powerful telepathic force, bringing Jean to the floor in pain. It's far away, it's in the walls, it's too little, it's too much.

It's not malicious at all.

It'd clumsy, but it's not trying to hurt them. Whatever it is just doesn't know how not to. They can feel it's panic and attempts to soothe until they can't take anymore and black out.

Both wake up in the morning, and they're tucked safely in their beds. No headache or pain to tell them that last night's force was real or a bad dream. All the while, they are unaware of a pair of glowing eyes remorsefully watching them from the shadows, paintings, and cracks in the wall.

The strange occurrences scare them at first.

The found homework, the scratching in the walls, the extra snacks and warm blankets added to the kitchen and bedrooms... It escalates to the cars having new tires, the vehicles always having fuel, favorite foods made and waiting to be eaten, soft cries at night that echo in the shadowed halls...

It scares the cr*p out of everyone.

Are they being haunted? Is the thing that k*lied Reader's abusers come after them next?

Except... whatever their resident ghost or creature or cryptid wants, it isn't their death or suffering. They just- leave food, find forgotten items, clean the kitchen and rooms, and generally help out. They aren't malicious, whatever they are. They're quite helpful. Always keeping food warm, keeping the halls clean, making sure food and blankets and comfort items are always stocked... If only theh knew what it was...

The night Jean and The Professor hear the creature, feel the way it clumsily tries to project its thoughts, they feel worried- obviously this is someone who is hurt, their mind broken in small pieces that are hard to connect, their thoughts focused on trying to make others happy and pleased- but when it overwhelms them, it becomes too much. It stings, it hurts, but all they can pick up is the creature is sorry, and then it all fades out to nothingness...

When they wake up, there's fresh tea made, coffee and bacon and pancakes on dishes ready to he eaten, and extra blankets wrapped up in neat bundles in their room and the living room. The walls are quieter, the rooms seem less... alive. They can hear the faint fluttwr of noise as the breeze rocks the curtains, the fabric roiling and fluctuating in the wind...

Did they just imagine it, or... did that creature they heard, the one who tried to reach out...? It couldn't be... Yet, was it possible? The being seemed familiar, in a broken, warped way... They felt for the poor thing, so lost and scared and anxious. Perhaps they can try to locate it, and coax it our of hiding...

Yet no one notices the being who slips out, with glowing eyes and sharp fingers, that slips away in the morning dawn, never caught and filled with deep, heavy sadness... The shadows seem to wrap around it, the trees hide it from sight, the world seems colder and more quiet when it passes by... But it slips away all the same, disappearing to where no one can find it...

(Shall we go even darker, @sugar-soda ? What did you think?)

[dvzaiosamu]

just a rushed oneshot about osamu dazai, once again. This one is about how he was never happy; nothing could fill more his heart, for he will live forever in the solitude. But he has you, he does, but for him, it doesn't feel enough. Dazai x fem.reader. This has two parts.

tw: suicide, self-harm mentions, depression, not mentally stable, sensitive topics, blood mentions, ect...

song recommendation: the lobotomy by maebi and old doll, mad father.

parts: 1/2

note: In fact, I already had the oneshot for this post done... but, when I wanted to schedule its publication, an error occurred and everything I did was deleted, leaving only what you are going to read below. I literally cried :( I hate my fucking luck. I'm tired now so I won't be able to upload the second part, I'll upload it one day when I feel motivated.

A night with a single moon, a strangely bright starry night. There have never been as many stars as there are today, or at least not as visible as the ones he glimpsed. His heart gave small muffled beats, an audible sigh as he stared at his already fired gun. On the ground lay the body of a weakness that did nothing, was only pierced by a bullet in that dark street full of dangers where he, Osami Dazai called himself the boss of the dangers of those streets, a mere attempt to disconnect from his intrusive thoughts.

He knew better than anyone what was going through his mind; Thought after thought, tiredness once it was over and tired of life, a strangulating stone blocking his throat, a pain and suffering that this world housed him. How was he going to die? He tried and failed, he didn't succeed. In a weak attempt he rubs his forehead, trying to get rid of the headache... Thoughts or headache? Headache or thoughts? Not even he knew it. He was overwhelmed by the burden of living.

In the darkness he continued to find himself, a pool of blood was created in front, obscured by the poor lighting. He couldn't care less about the life of a citizen. He tried to hide it, drown out his thoughts by killing. He thought that if he killed he would be happier, that at least it would be a distraction to get rid of everything. It wasn't like that.

Darkness took over this night, giving it an eerie appearance. Osamu used to love nights like this, when he most enjoyed scaring and then shooting his victims without any remorse, without mercy. He was a cruel murderer.

On the other side you were, considerably far from the young man. You were at your house, a house shared by you and Dazai. It was spacious and quite cozy: it had simple windows that were covered at night by lowering the blinds, for the sole reason that people could clearly see what was going on inside. It was itself a two-story, two-bathroom, three-bedroom house with its own amenities, space, and beds. One of the rooms was yours, the other was Osamu's, and the third was guests'. On that same floor (upstairs) was one of the bathrooms, with all kinds of luxuries, but minimalist in its own way. On the ground floor was the living room with its respective large and long sofa accompanied by a rug, television, shelves for books on one side, some furniture to store things and that's it. Then you had the kitchen and dining room where you were currently, preparing today's dinner, eagerly waiting for your partner to show him another wonderful dish that you decided to prepare.

You finished cooking and preparing a copious table, and you waited, waited and watched the clock tick, with its sound memorized in your brain that repeated like a broken record: tick tock, tick tock...

He always came around the time you finished cooking and getting everything ready for a cozy night in for Dazai after hard work in the mafia. You were worried that something had happened to him, that maybe Mori had detained him a little longer until he finished his missions or that he had simply forgotten that you made him dinner every time he wasn't home, it frustrated you at an end that he had forgotten, but then it quickly melted into worry, you didn't know what to believe and you were confused.

"Why does he takes so long to arrive? It's been over half an hour now and I have no calls, texts or messages from him." The question stood out and resonated in your head: why? Why did it take so long? You sighed and let time move forward. "Guess I'm just going to call him."

Moving your hand to your pants pocket, you grab your phone, tap its screen, and deftly enter your phone's password. Biting your lip repeatedly, you nervously reach his profile and press the call button.

The phone vibrates as you wait for Dazai to answer on the other line, a characteristic sound as you wait impatiently: vzzzzzt. You wait a few minutes and the wait ends with a message: ‘Osamu has not responded.’ Your condition worsens and you press the ‘call again’ button. This time you will finally be able to witness how the young mafioso accepts the call. "Hello Dazai, are you okay? How are you?"

A short two-second pause, overwhelmingly giving off a bad vibe. "I'm fine, what do you need?"

"I just wanted to know where you are. I made dinner and you were nowhere to be found, and look, that's the time you always show up. Something happened?"

"You see... Maybe I dallied on the way home, but you don't have to be so desperate, I'm already on my way, it won't be far away," He explains to you on the other end of the phone, with a carefree voice, still maintaining his soft but icy tone. In the background you can hear his footsteps stepping on the asphalt.

"Well, I guess I'll wait until you get there... Take care, I love you," You hang up the call with a sigh.

Back to Dazai, the youthful mafioso, crude and indifferent. He was walking through some very dimly lit streets. The crickets sing while there is a silence so unusual that it seems pleasant to the ear. There was no wind or noisy people talking on those same streets, there was just him. He was alone.

On the way home, he repeatedly thinks about jumping off an icy water bridge he was passing over. He didn't know what else to do, he wanted to die but without pain, he wanted to die but without losing close ones and friends, he wanted to die but find a reason to live. There were only knots in his mind, he was tired. He thought about committing suicide once and for all with his gun, drinking poison on purpose... So many ways to die and so few possibilities of achieving it.

*sigh*

[safetycar-restart]

- hybrid bunny!charles has such floppy ears!! The floppiest of floppy ears. They bounce around when he runs have to be tied back when puts a helmet on. And they’re VERY sensitive, only soft gentle touches for his ears and only from people he trusts.

- Charles’s ears are so sensitive and he loves when you touch and pet them during sex.

- Charles’s legs shake and kick when he cums. And yes he has bruised you before

alright now don't act like y'all didn't expect me to talk about all of these at once

bunny!charles is truly the cutest little thing ever! with his long floppy ears and his cute little tail, his tiny bunny teeth (which he already has lmao) and the prettiest eyes ever!

his ears are SO floppy! they're white and pretty long, and they're so so fluffy! he's like a snowball! charles is a very hyperactive bunny, always hopping and running around, but he does tend to get tired very very easily. he's always very cheery and bubbly, always giggling and demanding pets and cuddles and kisses! his ears are very sensitive though, he's just a little bunny! he sometimes accidentally lays his head on his ears at a weird angle, or scratches them and hits a sensitive spot - poor little thing is always whining and sniffling about it afterwards!

he doesn't trust many people with touching his ears, and of course, you're one of the few people he does trust. he always has you tie back his ears when he has to put on a helmet, because nobody but you knows how much and how hard to pull, how tight you have to tie them, and help him put on his helmet without hurting his fluffy ears. regardless, he always gets a little headache after taking his helmet off, and he has you sit behind him and softly massage, touch and scratch his ears and the areas around them, soothing the slight pain and discomfort he's feeling.

now for the spice and everything nice ;)

it's a known fact bunnies multiply like crazy, and charles is a super horny bunny at all times. he's so insatiable and high maintenance! he hasn't ever gone longer than two days without getting at least a handjob. he's the MOST sensitive thing ever during sex, all his senses dialled up to eleven. his ears especially. whenever you're having sex with him, and touch his ears, run your hand across them or the small space behind them, the feeling shoots straight to his dick, crying out and his face flushing instantly.

his ears bounce up and down each time you thrust into him, especially when he's on top of you and when he's riding you or he gets too tired so you thrust your hips up into him. he's always letting out the most high pitched, adorable whimpers, his cheeks tinted a cute rosy pink. his tongue lolled out, drool dripping down his chin.

he's SUPER SUPER sensitive when and after he cums, his thighs and legs shaking so hard, as he cries out from that good overwhelming feeling. it's usually his right leg he kicks with when he cums, but he does kick with both legs often too. it's kinda cute, and you can't not forgive him for accidentally kicking your thigh with his heel. he feels bad after, but you reassure him, even though you have a bruise on your thigh now.

he's always so tired and spent after a good fuck, panting and wiping the drool off his chin. while you clean him up, his legs still twitching every time the cloth grazed his dick. one of his ears is upright, while the other is flopped down, hanging over the side of his head. you quickly pet his head and then his ear with your free hand, before kissing his cheek.

one of the things you often do when he walks in front of you is just flick or boop his tail, and he always flinches and hops up or giggles and turns around with a blushed face.

he's just a very happy bunny! he usually, unintentionally just makes everybody happy just with his presence. but he doesn't care about them, as long as you're happy <3.

- 📓

I KNEW YOUD BE HERE!!! This is so good oh my god.

Firstly, his ears!! I fully agree that they’d be white, but I think that they’d be white with brown spots? Like the same brown as his hair? It’s so fucking cute.

(Though maybe… maybe people sometimes joke that Charles’s ears are ‘dirty’ because of the brown spots and so he actually doesn’t like his ears too much?)

His ears are so floppy!! He’s always running and hopping and squirming and it always makes his ears flop around. He loves the feeling of his ears moving around, it always makes him so giggly.

And yes he’s so hyperactive!!

But he also tires so easily which is just adorable. He’ll almost get zoomies? Just randomly deciding to run around the apartment and hop a little and then come dive into your lap for more cuddles and scratches.

He’s also so shamelessly needy with you? He always wants you to be touching and petting him, wanting scratches and cuddles and kisses. You’re the only person who can touch his ears all the time. You ALWAYS know exactly how to touch his ears and he always loves it.

He’ll actually flinch away if anyone else gets close to his ears. If he’s cuddling with someone, then he’s fine with it if they ask (like if he and Arthur are cuddling), but usually his ears are a no no zone.

Cause they’re so sensitive!! In fact sometimes he’ll turn his head in his sleep and end up squishing one and then he’ll just instantly wake up, whining cause his ears hurt so so much!!

If you’re there when that happens, his whines always wake you up and then you just sleepily pat his head, letting him hide in your chest to calm down.

And speaking of hyperactive bunny…. He’s also utterly insatiable. He’s a bunny!! Bunnies are known for their ridiculous sexual drive and he’s no different.

Before you, Charles would jerk off all the time. Humping his pillows and riding dildos and always being at least a little horny.

And he’s still just as horny with you, but he’s also so so much more satisfied. Cause now he has someone to stroke his cock for him!! And fuck him nicely and hold him close and just make him feel so much nicer. He’s so much happier with you.

Often you’ll just let him stroke himself and then you’ll hold him close, running your hands over his ears and whispering how good he looks as he spills all over himself. That’s honestly one of his favourite ways to cum, cause it’s just so soft and so nice?

Of course his legs always kick out as he cums. He can’t stop that at all. He’s just so squirmy and so overwhelmed with pleasure that he can’t help it.

And fuck his ears bouncing as he gets fucked? Incredible. That’s how you know he’s being fucked nice and hard, exactly how he likes it. His cock is so hard and leaking all over, body shaking as he nears his high.

And he drools. He absolutely does. His mouth tends to stay open the entire time you fuck him (he will close it if you put a finger inside for him to suckle).

He’s such a mess by the end. Drool dripping down his chin, his ears all messed up and bent, a puddle of cum on his tummy. But he’s so happy. Cause he’s finally satisfied!! He’s so happy then, all fucked out.

And yes he’s very messy, but that just means he had the best time and is ready to cleaned up and cuddled.

He flinches as you wipe him, his one leg kicking out a little as you clean him cause he’s so sensitive. You also have to straighten his ears out for him, maybe brushing them too? He loves that, it always makes him feel so nice and sleepy.

And you must, you MUST, boop his tail afterwards. He’ll actually roll onto his stomach and wriggle his ass a little, trying to get you to boop his tail because you must. You just must.

So yeah, very happy and very horny and very needy bunny.

[unofficial-sean]

Every time my dad visits, I struggle to understand him. I struggle to assess our common understandings. I struggle to interact with him in a meaningful way.

I used to be a car person. I used to dream up the cars I'd own and what mods I would have on them. I'd try them out in Forza, and this is what drove me to get my GED and become a mechanic. I was obsessed. This worked well with my dad because I'd reckon most white guys are car people, too, to some degree. I was enriched with tools for gifts and our time spent talking was almost always about cars and motorcycles.

But that was before. Now, I'm focused on a deeply personal mission to make my community's HVAC system as efficient as possible; arrived at by personally seeking knowledge over years and years, and also running breathlessly into the world of cars and being knocked on my ass by the intolerance of the people in that world.

I got swept up in the mystical world of radios, which paired well with my dad, as well, who got his technician license shortly after I did, because wireless communication appealed to his sense of independence.

Instead of running face-first into hyper-masculinity, I ran into a door too small to squeeze into. Being a radio technician was not to be.

So, I moved onto biology. Also something my dad is interested in. He likes trees and has plenty of urban wildlife stories. But he is over 50, and a few months ago, I taught him that trees actually consume oxygen at night as part of cellular respiration; it was news to him. Biology wasn't to be, either; I was overwhelmed by the workload placed on my by college and I burnt out.

So here I am, now. I've tried on many costumes. I've learned a little in a lot of places. I've sought out a role for myself to fill. I lost interest in cars and motorcycles. I'm always fascinated by life, but I can't focus on it anymore. Radios are always cool, but there's no one to talk to; or any reason to. I'm terrified of diving.

So I have HVAC, now. It's the current costume I'm wearing. I have a moral mission informed by my experiences roasting in the summer and by my ever-increasing knowledge of the climate crisis. It's all I can do. In my free time, I care for my frogs, I play single-player video games, I prepare for D&D with my club. I dream a lot, too. I don't have any partners, in part because I don't know where to meet my people, and in part because I've lost interest in others, but if I did. . . I just know my family would be weird about it at best.

I don't know how to fit either of my parents into my life, if I'm honest. There's no place for them. There's nothing they can do to enrich it. When I'm around them, I feel tense. I don't want to say the wrong thing. I don't want to hear how far apart we are.

My dad took my brother and I to a car museum. I loathe cars, now. I drive one, sure. But I don't care for them. I learned that there's a completely different way of living, and I desire it dearly; why would there be any ounce of love left for them? But I go anyways, because on some level, I have to. The museum stinks of oily rags. It is a familiar smell, but one that now gives me a headache. I do a circuit, then head outside to breathe in the somewhat-fresh air. I say somewhat because the museum is next to I-5, and the tire noise erases anything sweeter that may have once been in its place.

I walk around the side to look at the building's massive outdoor units; two big, 6-comrpessor, 460v AC + boiler units. I am amazed that the compressors have a locked-rotor amp rating of 125. Can you imagine? I spied a mini-split system, too. A Mitsubishi. It uses R-410A and has a base refrigerant weight of 6oz. For every additional 25 feet of line, though, you must add 0.6 oz of refrigerant to it. There is a spot on the label for the installer to record the total weight of refrigerant in the system after install. It is left blank. Poor practice. Anyone servicing it, now, must estimate it by measuring the lines, if they can access them.

I'm supposed to be spending time with my dad, but instead I'm outside, alone. I don't wanna look at old cars who spewed lead into the atmosphere and probably killed their drivers just as often as they killed bystanders. I don't want to see the machines that my world was built around.

The museum has a section on fossil fuels and climate change. I half-expected to see some denial or distortion of history. No doubt there was some, but it's the solution to these issues that annoyed me the most. In essence, the plaques and exhibits said "let's make use of biofuels, hybrids, and electric cars to minimize emissions; and lets use renewable energy sources to reduce the carbon footprint of automobile manufacturing." fucking what. You wanna keep making cars? Unbelievable.

There was not a single mention of reducing car-dependency or electrified rail. My headache got worse. What did I expect? Car people are going to find a way to keep cars in their place.

What does this have to do with my dad? In a way, he's a barometer for sentiments on certain things. He still thinks I'm interested in internal combustion engines. I hate them. I hate their noises and their fumes. I know precisely how they work, and I could fix a broken one, but I despise what they represent and I just wish they would go away. I wish they weren't the topic of conversation anymore.

I'm tired of grave stakes and the horrors of the world. I want to feel hope again. I want to meet people who share my goals. I want to talk about a thriving future. But fuck, it is hard to do in Tacoma. I want to put a heat hump in every home. I want my tools to be part of a tool-sharing program. I want enough resources to contribute to mutual aid. I want electrified public transit so I can get rid of my car. I want bike infrastructure so I can use the damn thing to get around. I want empty parking lots torn up and replaced with green spaces.

I want to be part of it all and I want to talk with the people who already are. And instead I have my family and everyone else in this city. I'm too afraid to speak, lest I risk showing that I don't know enough. Too afraid to tell my dad I'm not interested in these things anymore because then we will have NOTHING. That will be very sad.

I'm tired. I put together a playlist of things to give me hope because I am trudging through a depression, again. Putting them on in the background while I click through Baldur's Gate 3 again because I can't sleep, but I don't have the brain power to write out my next session or do something bold and creative. I'm soulsapped.

Tomorrow will be the last time my niece celebrates her birthday in this state. She, her brother, and my sister are all moving to Illinois. We'll be at our grandparent's place. It is being referred to as the "last time we'll all be together." Grandpa's health is failing. He's about to be in hospice, if he isn't already. On one hand, I should be there just for the sake of it. I know I'd want as many people around if i was dying. Grandpa's always been cooler than his wife. She's the true reason I don't want to go. I don't like being around her.

I don't like all the "God Bless America" shit in her home. What is there to be proud of? I'm getting off track.

There's no point in raising my voice. I must be a neutral vessel everywhere I go. This is the only place I can ever express myself. Outside, I weight my guilt against my desire to push them all away. It is those days where I am compelled to spend time with family where I feel the most trapped.

[thevoidknights]

@throughscarleteyes

"I can only imagine. Taking care of only one child is draining enough for me. Granted, they are my child."

A hoarse chuckle leaves him, there's no ill feelings there, of course. He adores his child to no end, but they were exhausting as anything could be. Imagining four of them sounded downright painful. He lifts a hand to gesture towards Hollow gently, silently letting them know he was perfectly alright if they wanted to come closer. He would never say no to their company, especially not with just how tired they look.

Their inquiry has him humming in thought though as the gears turn in his hazy mind to explain himself. In that time, he takes a long drag from the pipe he holds loosely in his claws. After a moment, he only shrugs, red smoke seeping through his fangs as he speaks.

"Taking my mind off of things. I'm alright, just a bit...overwhelmed."

It's the best excuse he can come up with, and it's not wrong either. He was dealing with a hell he'd rather not let Hollow know anything about. He knew it would break their poor metaphorical heart.

"I know none of you like it when I drink, so...smoking helps at least a little."

There was some form of effort being made, for the time being. He wouldn't talk about the headaches he's been getting because of it.

______________________________________________________________

The huffed out sigh is enough of an answer, it was quite painful for them to do. Literally and figuratively. Of course they love the children dearly, they are family after all, but their body and mind just could not keep up with them some days. Which is why days like this where they get a break are so vital for them to let out the pent up stress and to unwind.

Seeing the offered hand they give a small smile with their eyes before taking it sit closer to their friend. They watch as Grimm take a long draw from the pipe while he thinks. A soft curious chitter escapes them, unsure of exactly how this could help him with that. It smelled... interesting for sure. At least the smoke did anyway. For now though they nod and sigh as they sit there, showing that it was true they didn't like the idea of him constantly drinking.

"Do you wish to talk of it? What's bothering you?"

It was a gentle offer, not at all pushing for answers. They'd learned rather quickly that demanding and trying to drag answers out of Grimm of all bugs usually ended in failure. He would withdraw further and clamp up and change the topic. They tried not to let the thought that he didn't trust them not grip their mind. He would tell them when he was ready.

[ruinedreliquaries]

The Mega Character Questionnaire

Full Name: Valentino Arthit Lecce Aliases: Father Lecce, Priest, Vulture

Appearance.

FACECLAIM: Luke Pasqualino? GENDER: Cis man HEIGHT: 5'10'' WEIGHT: 140 lbs BUILD: Sleek, wiry. Somewhat poor muscle condition. HAIR: Long hair reaching his shoulder blades, brushed back. Off black hair beginning to gray. SKIN: Tan, warm undertone. Darkening around eyes that resembles eyeshadow and crows feet. EYES: Brown eyes, commonly half lidded. MOUTH: Curved lips often set into a soft smile. NOSE: Curved, roman nose. HANDS:��Deft surgeons' hands. Thin fingers and raised tendons. Short filed nails. SCARS: Large brand on top of breastbone. A few nicks and cuts on his hands from improperly handled medical equipment. CLOTHES: Ranges from business casual to black tie/ funeral attire. Slowly amassing a collection of band tees.

Speech.

ACCENT: Generic east coast American. LANGUAGE: Native English, casual Italian. Intermediate Latin. A few spare words of Thai. ARTICULATION: Somewhat eloquent, but tends to pause, stutter, and use filler words. LAUGHTER: Soft chuckles or sharp barks of laughter. GRUMP: Complains around friends or by himself.

Mannerisms.

FACE: Tries to have a calm smile or somber look in public. May look tired or disoriented when he's not paying attention. HANDS: Holds hands clasped, or massaging his knuckles. Sometimes pops/ cracks his fingers. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: Not often, usually small expressions of sadness or distress when he thinks others aren't looking. HABITS: Touching his hair, rubbing his knuckles, leaning on things, rubbing or grasping his pendant. POSTURE: Stands straight, but tends to lean or list to one side if tired or not focusing. WALKING POSTURE: Slightly stiff as if he's focusing on walking straight. More hitching, jittery movements when running or drunk. SITTING POSTURE: Sits straight, hands folded in lap in formal settings. Leans or props up his head in casual settings. PERSONAL SPACE: Small personal bubble. Likes getting into other's personal space after getting to know them.

Health:

DIET: Poor, unbalanced diet. Too high in sugar and low in protein. SLEEP: Long stretches of sleep. Can sleep 10+ hours if he has no obligations. EXERCISE: Moderate, walks often around graveyards. Not much upper body exercise after he joined the clergy. ACTIVITY: Bursts of high activity, with calm moments between funerals/ obligations. CLEANLINESS: Understands sanitation and is good at cleaning his specimens and his home. Showers every day, washes hair every four days. MEDICINAL DRUGS: Antiseizure medication, antihistamines and too many over the counter painkillers. ILLNESS: Allergies, chronic headaches. Aware or petit mal seizures now mostly controlled with medication. INJURIES: Childhood brain injury. OTHER: Thalassophobia, mild anxiety, dizzy spells. Nausea, vomiting, rash and hives after he consumes red meat, milk, or gelatin.

Personal.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: Introvert OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Pessimist for himself, optimist when thinking of other's situations. SEXUALITY: Graysexual. No meaningful preference towards genders. ROMANTIC: Aromantic, loves romance when couched in a fictional or non realistic setting. MEMORY: Poor short term memory, and is missing most of his memories up to age six due to brain trauma. INTUITION: Decent. Good at reading people's emotions, but isn't good at determining the issue at the bottom of it. PROBLEM SOLVING: Moderate-poor. He's perfectly average at problem solving, but if he can't figure it out in five minutes or so, he gets a headache and becomes frustrated. Does better in a group, where he can let others take charge when he's overwhelmed. GOALS: To give others a proper send off and support their next of kin. INSECURITIES: That he's not like everyone else. Stupid, offputting, unfit to serve God. That people merely tolerate him. ACHIEVEMENTS: Two degrees, and recognition from his parish family. ANXIETY: Worries about his health and being disliked by others. Tries to be useful so people like him. Please like him. OVERWHELMED: Rarely. Tries to find a quiet area when overstimulated. COMFORTS: Saintly paintings and medals, relics, the smell of fur and tanned leather.

The Past.

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Both parents are still alive, relationship generally good but somewhat distant and strained. Father is a podiatrist, accountant mother. SCHOOL: Public school. His parents insisted he not be sent to a school for special needs children. FURTHER EDUCATION: Originally went to college for mortuary science, later went again for his philosophy degree. LIFE EVENTS: Late teens assisting in a funeral home, early and mid twenties studying and working as a funeral director, felt the call, completed seminary and became ordained in his thirties. WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Being roofied and branded by 'ex' cultists. BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Becoming an unofficial director in the parish family.

Interactions.

MINGLING: Tends to be at the edge of a group, but will properly mingle if one or two people he's familiar with are there. PHYSICAL: Touchy when in an appropriate situation. Likes to sit near people and bump shoulders or lean into them. OPENNESS: Tries to be open and honest but there is some information about him he rather keep secret. Would rather give incomplete information instead of lying. GENEROSITY: Generous, sometimes almost desperately. Donates his time occasionally, although he is still 'voluntold' to do things. JEALOUSY: Can be jealous, pines for things others have. TEMPER: Not much of a temper. EMPATHY: Makes an effort to be emphatic but sometimes has difficulty understanding other people's motives. AFFECTION: Very affectionate, though is aware of social norms and tries not to overstep. DISTASTE: Usually becomes quiet when something distasteful pops up. If pushed he may grimace or curl his lip. ETIQUETTE: Polite and tries to keep to social niceties, uses these techniques to mask his issues. SELF ESTEEM: Poor. Knows his talents but seeks approval from others too much. FLIRTING: Likes it but tends to think of it as teasing or wordplay.

Life.

CAREER: Priest. Former funeral director. COMBAT SKILLS: Poor. Knows which points on the body are vulnerable, but doesn't quite have the strength to take advantage. COOKING: Likes cooking, tends to make rice or pasta as a base and add things to it. MARRIAGE: Loves marriage as a concept, but doesn't want it himself. KIDS: Likes children, but fears being responsible for them. WORRIES: Degrading mentally and spiritually. HOBBIES: Vulture culture, playing piano, stitchwork. Crime procedurals and dramas.

Ripped from @burdenedwithfaith (I love pawing through John's questionnaire!)

[larkscribbles]

New Blood

Quentin finds, mere days after getting to Waterdeep and joining an adventuring group, that the monsters crawling out of wells are the least of his concerns.

The Yawning Portal is inexplicably empty. The tables and chairs are without occupants. There are no lights. Unease permeates the room, making the air thick. The silence is only broken by Quentin’s shifting of his weight from foot to foot. Fear constricts his throat. Despite the emptiness of the room he feels he is not alone. His skin crawls. He finds, intentionally or not, he has orientated towards the centre of the room. Facing the well. The very well that monsters had clawed their way out of mere hours ago. But he had heard them coming. This is different. The silence is almost deafening.

They start off as murmurs, almost imperceptible, then they rise in magnitude and volume. An unseen choir of incomprehensible voices suddenly surrounding the room. Adrenaline pulsing, Quentin frantically scans the space anew, finding nothing visibly amiss. The alien voices surround him, rising to a roar. His skull pounds. He starts to recognise fragments, snippets of words. The room takes on a sickly blue-green glow, spilling forth from the well. The whispers then begin to coalesce, amassing into one voice.

“Join me in the deep.”

The voice is so otherworldly, so alluring, so overwhelming and oh-so-gut-wrenchingly wrong.

Quentin’s heart seizes, his knees locking in place. He is terrified. He should run. That’s what a sane person would do. That’s what part of him wants to do. But not all of him. That’s the thing that scares him the most. His body refuses. Part of him wants to comply, stand on the edge of the well and submit. All he’d need to do is lean forwards. Stop resisting. He is torn, frozen in place, fighting himself. Desperation between each half builds. The rogue can practically feel himself breaking under the pressure, a splitting headache from the exertion. It comes to a boiling point and only then does he scream.

Quentin gasps awake, fending off his covers and re-orientates himself. He’s back in his room, in the Yawning Portal. The sheen of sweat suggests he never left. It's the middle of the night. His eyes do their best to scan the room, able to pick out the silhouettes of his still-sleeping roommates. Good. People being present does some to alleviate his nerves. He strains his ears for a moment, and can pick out snores. Nothing disturbed, except his sleep. After the afternoon’s skirmish, they need to rest, waking them now especially over a just a nightmare? Not a good look.

Quentin sits up and peels his shirt from his back, making an effort to slow his breathing. The motion sends a twinge through his shoulder and he grits his teeth. A nice reminder that he’d been sleeping around a wound this entire time. A bloody demon-looking-giant-four-winged-mosquito-thing had flown out of the well and saw him as an easy target. He squints at the puncture wound in the poor light. It’s wet. His brows knit in concern, stomach dropping slightly at the sight. That’s not good. He carefully slips out of bed, picking his way across the floor, halting slightly as one would to test for traps. Eventually he locates a washbasin, and drags it to a nearby window - somewhere proper to assess the damage.

He stifles a groan as he pries the shirt from the wound. It’s not bleeding in excess. Thankfully, it is definitely just blood but - wait. He stops, blinks, and holds his blood soaked fingers up to the moonlight.

It’s not the right colour.

Night drains the vibrancy from the world to some extent, of course, but this blood is too dark to be a normal shade of red - perhaps a shade of red at all. Quentin scrubs at his eyes in vain. What he sees doesn’t change. It’s as black as pitch. He shakes his head, as if to dismiss this. No, he must be tired. Frazzled from the skirmish and nightmare, that’s the only explanation. He takes a rag from the basin and begins to clean the wound. It’s slow and tentative work. The back of his neck prickles as he dares to glance at his shifting reflection in the disturbed, murky water. The rogue doesn’t know what he expects, but it unsettles him regardless.

Quentin decides that’s enough of that and forcefully directs his attention elsewhere - bandages the injury, retraces his steps and slides back under his covers. He does not close his eyes, nor does he try to sleep again. He can manage without it for a bit. Better than risking another… ordeal. Or whatever that was.

[samstree]

In which Geralt is a sneaky bastard who tells big lying lies

(he’s also soft but what else is new)

“Would you believe the gall of that woman! Propositioning me in the middle of a song! Well, us. She was trying to score with both of us! The worst of it, all she needed was to ask nicely, you know? At an appropriate time when I’m not busy singing my lungs out—”

“It was a slow song,” Geralt chimes in, pulling the blanket over his chest, missing his bard-shaped pillow in their warm bed.

But Jaskier remains tragically faraway, stripping angrily as if his boots are the ones who offended him.

“Singing my lungs out! You think she should know a crowd of a hundred people takes priority over a threesome proposal, but oh no, a duchess must not wait!”

“Mm-hmm.”

Geralt closes his eyes, feeling the effect of the late-night banquet deep in his bones. If he’s tired already, it must be worse for Jaskier, and the bard has an early day tomorrow.

“Will you come to bed?” Geralt sighs, frowning at the labored stutter in Jaskier’s heartbeat, but he’s mournfully ignored.

“And apparently, no was not even an answer enough. She had to—” Jaskier sucks in a breath. “—get handsy!”

“You are handsy. Never bothered me.” Geralt unravels a corner of the blanket invitingly. “Come, only a few hours before daw—”

“How are you not offended?” Jaskier finally pulls an old shirt over his head and crosses his arms, still too far from their bed. “I was thoroughly defiled!”

Geralt almost snorts.

“Oh, you terrible witcher! Here I am, living the most dreadful moment in my life, the most dreadful! And you find it amusing! How will I cope now? How am I to fall asleep knowing the love of my life is such a cruel, cruel man?”

Jaskier’s face is bloating red, the thrumming of his heart even more worked up. By this rate, he’s not falling asleep at all.

Geralt’s heart sinks at the thought. Even in the dim candlelight, the dark circles under the bard’s eyes are visible from a distance. He’s always caught on subtle signs of Jaskier’s exhaustion, but it doesn’t take a witcher to spot the way Jaskier has been unsteady on his feet all night. An audience member bothering him surely doesn’t make it easier.

It’s time to bring out the big guns.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, “come to bed, will you?”

“And why would I when you are being so mean to me?”

The way Jaskier’s brows furrow is too adorable and too serious. Geralt has to work out his best puppy eyes.

“I have a headache,” he lies, “the banquet was…long.”

Jaskier blinks, and after a pause, the annoyance in his eyes immediately shifts to concern. “Oh.” The bard walks to the bed quickly on bare feet, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Of course, there were so many people, all loud and touchy and perfume-y. Here.”

He holds out the cup of water on the nightstand to Geralt, who drinks it gladly, and then pouts just enough for Jaskier to notice.

“You poor thing.” A warm hand strokes the hair at Geralt’s temple, and the mattress dips. “And all I did was complain about nothing while you were in pain. I’m so sorry.”

“Hmm, need you here.” Geralt grabs at Jaskier’s sleeve and pulls him into the toasty cocoon of the blankets and pillows, their arms wrapping loosely around each other.

“I’m here now. Don’t you worry. We’ll do our thing, alright?” Jaskier says softly, letting Geralt rest a hand at his back, right where his heartbeat is. Geralt begins rubbing small soothing circles there, feeling the tense muscles relax. “Breathe with me,” the bard adds. “I’m right here.”

Jaskier forces the rise and fall of his chest to slow, drawing in deep breathes. Geralt tucks Jaskier’s head under his chin, matching the rhythm and inhaling the scent of clean linen. Jaskier melts in his arms gradually, his early nervous energy fading.

“Still overwhelmed?”

“Still.”

Geralt lets a tiny smile tug at his lips as he continues to soothe away the tension in Jaskier’s body, which is taken as a sign that he’s seeking comfort for himself. Jaskier rubs his cheek in the crook of Geralt’s neck, the angry blush on his skin now calming too.

The fingers carding through Geralt’s hair slow down in time. It’s no surprise sleep seems to settle into Jaskier fairly quickly.

“Better now?” But the bard is fighting a yawn, mumbling weakly. “What else do you need? I can sing the—”

“Shh,” Geralt shushes him, keeping Jaskier’s head on the pillow, tracing the shell of his ear. “Too loud.”

“Right. No talk.”

Silence sinks in, and the limbs tangled around Geralt grow heavier.

The repeated motion on Jaskier’s ear works like a charm, and in no time, he’s humming like a contented cat lying in a sunbeam. Within another minute, soft snores fill the room.

Geralt lets a grin stretch across his face and pulls away to observe his bard, now dead to the world. There’s something about watching Jaskier sleep that makes Geralt feel vulnerable in return. Somehow, being allowed to witness Jaskier with his guard down and all performance chipped away still feels like a privilege.

And if he allows himself to feel proud for a bit, it’s no one’s business but his own.

[bluecookies02]

Can I please request for Hawks, Dabi and Aizawa walking in on their S/O using a vibrator on themselves? (Btw they don’t know that they have it also their s/o aren’t moaning their name just heavy breathing) please thank you! Can be headcannons or Drabbles. Thank you!!💕

YESSSSSS, ALL OF MY HUSBANDS, ABSOLUTELY

(NSFW // minors do not interact)

TAKAMI KEIGO/HAWKS

He rarely comes home early, on contrary he's always held up by the commission well over his working hours, causing him to be late, the apology texts being a constant in your relationship.

And you understand, you really do, you learned to get busy with your own things throughout the day. Especially when the fact that you're alone in your home settles down in your brain.

You find joy in spoiling yourself, and while you do sometimes miss the touch of your lover, the small buzzing against your clit makes it almost impossible to keep on dwelling over that, especially when you press the toy a bit harder, head thrown back on the soft pillow. The lights are dimmed, your discarded clothes scattered over the bed, the soaked panties laying at your feet. It all adds to the appeal for the golden eyes that peek through the door, heavy, tired wings jumping back to life.

Breathing out heavily, you fiddle with the speeds on your vibe, greedily upping it until it feels overwhelming, too ruthless on your sensitive cunt. The one under it is too low, too faint for how worked up you are. You decide to torture yourself for a while, refusing to move it away from you, despite the small zap-like sensation that surges all the way through your stomach. Your fingers briefly dig and scrape over your thigh before you manage to still your hips, letting the vibe do its work. Your eyes are out of focus, imagination running wild as you drunkenly stare at your ceiling.

You dip the toy between your folds, slicking it up, the reduced friction making it almost perfect, toes curling in a warning. You feel it in your gut, hips bucking off the bed, the warm knot in your tummy signaling that if you don't stop soon you're gonna reach the point of no return, definitely ruining the oh so precious buildup you've got going on.

You peel your own hand away, determined to make it last a little while longer, your legs closing around nothing, the toy dropped on the mattress.

Your gasp is followed by a deeper groan, making your eyes snap to the door. You're relieved to find your boyfriend hunched over the door frame, cheeks red as his knees threaten to give out. His hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, his pants barely pulled down. So close. He was so terribly close.

His sharp teeth bruised his own lips from biting down too hard, a hand muffling his noises just in case (so much for that). You slowly click the off button, sitting up, wanting to make your way to your boyfriend. Your heart beats all the way to your ears, the rollercoaster of emotions doing a number on your poor heart.

"No, no, you can keep going" he says quietly, motioning you back to the bed as he takes tentative steps to a chair, turning it to face you.

You have to swallow around the lump in your dry throat, nodding as you spread your legs open again, adjusting so that he can have a better view. The slow buzz of your toy sends shivers down his spine, the wet sound of your pussy even louder now that he's this close to you.

that's how you manage to edge your boyfriend until he has literal tears rolling down his cheeks

TOUYA TODOROKI/DABI

cw:dabi is a perv

Dabi is a little creep. He constantly sneaks into your apartment...he peeks through every crack he can just to get a glimpse of you. It doesn't matter that you're dating, it adds a certain thrill to his day, especially when you jump up, startled and scared when he just....*shows up*

So far he caught you pleasuring yourself a handful of times, most of which were in the privacy of your bathroom. He loves to watch, loves to see exactly how you like it. He gets off on the shy moans you let out, quiet even when you're all alone in your home, the lewd sounds that rush past your lips muffled with the back of your hand.

He often strokes his cock, mumbling to himself, praising you even though you're too busy to hear him. He does little to nothing to keep it down, relishing in how oblivious you are to the slick sound of his length fucking into his fist. He takes breaks whenever you do, he matches his pace to yours fully, the grin never leaving his face.

It's not until he caught you on your couch of all places, legs bent to your knees, a rabbit vibrator stuffed inside your pussy, the little ears of it bumping against your clit ever so slightly. He's in a daze...he never guessed that his precious girl owned anything of the sort.

If you thought your sex life was great before, wait until he starts looking into all kinds of toys , using your card to buy them.

AIZAWA SHOUTA/ERESERHEAD

For him to not know that you own a sex toy, the relationship would have to be pretty new, I'm talking like "just got together, fucked a handful of times" type of new.

He gets internally excited, hoping that it'll be a nice start of a conversation later. For now, he'll carefully knock, offering his help. He'll take good care of you alright.

He'll finger you while he teases you with the vibe, pressing down and then raising it up from your clit ever so often. He'll play with the settings until he finds the one that tortures you the most, thoroughly getting you nice and fucked out before he even thinks about putting his cock anywhere near your pussy.

If Aizawa is something, that's passionate. He's lazy, but not when it comes to making his partners feel good. It's a way for him to unwind from work and finally do something that doesn't give him a headache.

He loves the way you look all soaked up, your folds slippery, glistening from his spit and many generous orgasms he gave you, making his fingers slide with ease. He eats pussy for his own pleasure, turning off the vibe and placing it on the bed, mushing his face between your legs. He nuzzles and munches on the fat of your thighs, leaving faint love bites all over your skin.

Then you can feel the tickle of his stubble as he starts suckling on your pussy, humming and mouthing at your cunt. He talks with your puss in his mouth, slurred words of praise about the way you taste and smell. He has his spit dribbling down his chin, arms secured on top of you to keep you in place.

He also loves eating ass, pls let this man eat your ass, Aizawa is an ass man, give him a taste of your voluptuous a- khm

He'll go on until his tongue goes numb. Like numb to the point where he has to slowly put it back in his mouth because his muscles are in p a i n

He'll turn the vibe back on while he fucks you, begging for you to not cum even tho he has it on the highest setting. It makes your walls flutter just right and he's so close. Hold out for him, he deserves it, he worked for it.

"Just a little bit more, I got you, please...I'm sorry...I know...you're doing so good, I know you can do it, I'm right behind you " He cums so hard he almost tumbles over, your cunt squeezing him dry, your toes curl and legs wiggle out of his grip to run away from the intensity of the toy that he still has hovered over your clit.

not proofread, it's 1 am and we die like men.

I'll ban the words "vibe" and "toy" from my vocabulary for a month after this. I still enjoyed it tho. Everything has a cost.

MY LINKS-> Ko-Fi | Patreon

[mysmegrace]

can i please request rfa with mc who has constant stomach , head and back pain thanks to stress / anxiety please ?

of course~ i'm kinda going through something similar ha... classes are scheduled to start again soon and my anxiety always spikes worse than it does regularly.

RFA with an MC who has Constant Stomach, Head, and Back Pain Due to Anxiety/Stress

---

yoosung kim:

your entire day had been a nightmare.

from participating in classes and working a part time job, you were worn out.

honestly, you felt quite sick.

you hadn’t noticed how much your body was aching until you had finally arrived home.

aiming for your bed, you wasted no time in unpacking before landing straight into your pillows.

the stress and anxiety the day gave you has now left you barely awake, small groans of pain leaving your mouth.

some higher power had given you the gift of sleep for no more than an hour before you were awoken by a phone call.

of course saeyoung would mess with you after he’d seen you on the cctvs walking home exhausted.

yet to your shock, it was yoosung.

you could’ve sworn he told you earlier that he had to study this hour.

quickly composing yourself the best you could, you answered to be greeted with a whined hi.

“hi yoosung” you responded, thinking you had masked your tired state well enough.

but you had always been a poor actor after all.

he paused, before asking “are you okay?”

in this state, you couldn’t be bothered to lie to him, getting into some kind of debate over your wellbeing.

“i’m just... exhausted. my entire body is aching” you admitted.

hearing a small sigh through the other end of the phone, you were about say your goodbyes for the night before he responded, “how come princess”.

his tone matched your upset one, yet with a hint of sympathy added on.

you sighed, responding “i’ve had an exhausting day, it’s taken a tole on me”.

he had to stop, thinking of the best ways to comfort you.

after a few seconds of no response, you continued “sorry yoosung, but i just want to rest right now”.

quickly, he snapped out of his thought process, not realizing the silence he had been giving you.

“that’s alright, please sleep well” he said, before hearing the sound of you hanging up the phone.

once you had come to your senses the following day, you noticed something was off.

french toast wasn’t something that spread in the air often in your apartment.

yet your suspicions were cut short as yoosung came around the corner, noticing your awakened state.

shocked, you began to sit up before being pushed back down, completely caught off guard.

“no work for you today lady, you just rest” he said, before running back out to the kitchen, bringing back a plate of french toast seconds later.

you couldn’t help but smile, yet a question popped up in your mind.

“wait, how am i going to eat this if i can’t sit up” you asked.

“easy, i’ll feed you”, problem solved.

hyun ryu / zen:

boarding the bus with zen, the first thing that caught your attention was the sheer compacity inside.

you two were only planning to take the bus 10 minutes to a new cafe that opened in town.

it was the perfect day to do so.

you and zen had off work, the weather was great, and it wasn’t predicted to be busy.

taking hold of the first railing you could find, keeping zen’s hand in your grip, you couldn’t help but to start getting overwhelmed.

there were so many people looking at you as you got on, and now you were stuck between a bunch of strangers looking you up and down with nothing else to do.

you felt your stomach start to turn, you knew this feeling well.

if you didn’t get off soon, you’d be sick and start crying with everything going on.

8 minutes in, you couldn’t take it anymore.

you had tried to get through by zoning out and thinking about other things, yet nothing was in your favour.

you were terrified, and now physically ill.

mentally preparing yourself, you pulled the string, your hand cutting between two heads of people you’d never seen before.

who knows if they were judging you?

that thought didn’t help a thing.

the bus came to a stop within the next few seconds, and you pulled zen’s hand tightly, practically pulling him off the bus.

“babe, we get off up there” he said, pointing north as the bus had taken off again.

you couldn’t handle a conversation with him right now, you needed to find a washroom.

taking notice of a camp-like washroom set up alongside the park a few steps away, you rushed off.

zen chased you in shock, attempting to grab a hold of your arm, to which you flicked him off of several times before reaching the area.

now he was stuck, not being able to go farther once you dashed into the ladies room.

he stood in a ball of confusion and worry.

you hadn’t acted like this before.

while inside the washroom, you locked yourself in the stall to the back, attempting to collect yourself.

once you came to the realization that your strategy wasn’t working, you just let it all out.

you felt like shit.

god, you had ruined the entire day with zen, embarrassed the two of you, and now you had made yourself physically sick.

you stayed in there for 15 minutes, simply balling your eyes out before deciding to go out and talk to him.

seeing you emerge from the washroom door, he took the best approach he imagined, pulling you into a tight hug as his eyes came across your redden face.

“i’m sorry” you muttered out, your face pressed against his chest.

quickly, he responds “it’s okay jagi, please tell me why you’re so upset”, comforting you with the tone of his voice, making you ease up a touch.

“i, there were so many people on the bus. i got sick, i was so anxious” you let out.

you knew how accepting your boyfriend was, which was why you weren’t shocked by the comforting words he spoke next.

“shhh, i get it, don’t cry”, pulling back a bit to clear the hair from your face.

he continued, saying “do you need anything? some medicine, drink?”

you shook your head, saying “no, i just need to calm myself down for a bit”.

“of course” he said, holding you until you said you were okay again not too long after.

jaehee kang:

“ugh” you let out, walking past jaehee with a throbbing pain in your head.

the cafe was making you unbelievably stressed, it was nothing like you’d ever experienced.

stress was a major downside to your cafes growing popularity, though you didn’t expect it.

little to your knowledge, jaehee heard ur groan, getting away from the counter for a spilt second.

“hm?” she said, before continuing “are you okay mc?”

“i just...” you paused, thinking of your next words.

you didn’t want to lie to her, but you didn’t want to make her worried on top of the already stressful situation.

“my head just hurts” you said, hoping to pass it off as a simple headache.

“are you alright? when did it start?” she asked, concern lacing her tone.

these pains were nothing new to you, but they got worse each and every time.

you had no energy to lie at this point, you were already done in by the day.

“the stress is getting to me, my head always aches when these things happen” you answered.

you could see her facial expression pause, as if she was deep in thought.

yet the expression changed within the minute as she responded “please go home, take the day off”.

you were blown away.

of course you didn’t want to leave jaehee alone, but you knew you couldn’t carry on like this for long.

you quickly argued “i can’t do that, you’ll be left with the stress alone”.

she gave a small smile, glancing at the clock, before responding “thank you for worrying, but i’ll be alright. there’s only an hour before closing and i can tell how bad this is effecting you”.

hence why with hesitation, you took her up on the offer.

you gathered your stuff up to leave, and went on autopilot, waking up the next day covered in warm blankets.

you couldn’t remember a thing after leaving, but you could feel how calm your body became with a bit of stress relief.

and you made sure to give jaehee your biggest thanks the next day.

jumin han:

you had started your new business over the summer.

and being the wife of c&r’s chariman-to-be, naturally people were intrigued.

many were incredibly supportive, although the occasional rumours surfaced from time to time.

crazy ideas you wouldn’t have been able to think of yourself.

suddenly you were the daughter of a president aboard, you and jumin weren’t actually married, and you only used jumin to fund and grow your business.

all completely foolish, never lasting more than a week.

however, this time around was different.

you had woken up to articles suggesting you were having an affair on your husband with your father in law, and that you had been using company profit for your own benefit.

how they came to these conclusions was beyond you, but you let it slide for now thinking it would only last a few days.

certainly nobody would believe this, there was no evidence brought forward and nothing you did had ever hinted towards these claims.

but that wasn’t the case this time.

one week went by and nothing changed.

two weeks went by and you noticed that the rumours had only increased and more was being added to the story.

now three weeks had passed, and things were only getting worse.

you had started getting emails about the rumours and sponsors had started pulling out to stay safe.

not only was it getting to you in a business sense, but your body had become ridden with stress and anxiety.

you woke up everyday in an upset mood, the first thing you noticed after coming to your senses was the back throughout your entire body.

though today it was focused in your abdomen.

this morning was no different from the previous few.

except jumin had stayed home from work for elizabeth the thirds yearly checkup.

he was the overreactive father to his cat daughter.

when he returned home with the news of elizabeths pristine health, he was met with your sleeping figure.

it was something out of the ordinary as you were usually awake at 6am.

yet it was 10am and he was standing beside your sleeping state.

remembering you had work, he shook you with ease to wake you up.

watching as you slowly opened your eyes, and within a snap you jumped up from the position you were lying in.

“what time is it?” you asked your husband frantically.

his eyes widen, slowly answered “it’s 10am, are you alright love?”

you wanted to cry.

you had woken up earlier at your usual time to an upset stomach, took some medication to ease your nerves, and laid down on your phone for a bit.

falling asleep wasn’t the plan.

“i didn’t mean to fall asleep, i need to-” you said, finding yourself in sobs midway through.

you couldn’t continue.

the tears fell uncontrollably, all the stress and worries coming out.

and jumin was at a loss for words.

yet he went to embrace you, calming you down through little words of endearment.

when you were finally calm enough to communicate, he asked “what’s going on?”

you let it all out, though you wanted to hide it from him earlier, you were desperate for things to subside at this point.

“there are all these rumours that have been going around for weeks, stuff about me getting with your father, using profit for myself, and using your entire family for exposure.”

you inhaled, being continuing “i thought they would end, but they keep going on and now it’s effecting my business. i just want it to stop”.

you stopped yourself from breaking down again, quickly composing yourself.

jumin paused, unsure of what to say.

hearing your sobs shattered his heart.

there were so many questions he needed answered, where would he even begin.

thinking for a bit, he asked “why didn’t you tell me earlier? it pains me to see you in tears”.

looking up to meet his eyes, you answered “i didn’t want you to worry”.

you knew it wasn’t an excuse he’d take seriously, but you were honest.

“your wellbeing comes before me, do not worry about my state”.

he had told you that since the day you became a couple.

adding onto that, he said “you’re staying home today. get some rest and i’ll take care of everything”.

you couldn’t argue, and part of you felt relieved getting it off your shoulders.

doing as he asked, you fell asleep again, napping like a baby.

you woke up again sometime around noon, immediately looking through your phone.

a new article caught your eye.

“Chairman Han denies all rumours involving MC and the upcoming business” it read.

you knew it wasn’t over yet, but you found comfort in the fact that it was finally thrown out of the water.

and within the next few days, you noticed your mood return to normalcy along with your body.

the stomach aches, headaches, and back pain disappeared.

you had learned your lesson, and didn’t hide your worries from then on.

saeyoung choi:

you dragged saeyoung out of the house for the night.

being the hard task that it was, you were understandably tired.

but you wouldn’t let that stop the night in front of you from being a success.

you had planned a special date to the movies in celebration of your birthday.

it was a movie you had wanted to see since it came out a year prior.

you were expecting to leave in a scared state of mind due to the movies horror nature.

what you weren’t expecting was the compacity of the movie theatre.

you wouldn’t be quick to admit it, but the sheer look of things frightened you.

it shouldn’t have been that hard to sit down and stare at a screen.

but all your attention was taken off of the movie, now directed at the people around you.

were they looking at you funny?

did you have something on your face?

were they judging you?

these questions wouldn’t leave your mind.

though you made multiple internal attempts to stop it, they just kept coming.

eventually it got too much, the nerves overwhelmed you, and you felt your stomach become physically ill.

you were gonna be sick, you thought.

turning to whisper to saeyoung, excusing yourself from the movie, you left to the washroom.

there were people in the ladies room as well, but they eventually left one by one.

you hung your head over the toilet seat, just waiting for your body to give in.

it was probably best to hide out in the stall for the remainder of the movie, you figured.

and that you tried to do, until saeyoung became suspicious and started looking for you 20 minutes later.

after searching the halls, the only reasonable conclusion left was that you were in the washroom.

he became worried that you were ill and needed help.

hence why he stood outside the door, yelling your name inside.

it caught you off guard, you weren’t ready to face him yet and have an excuse prepared.

though you didn’t have long to stay in your thoughts for long once he yelled your name out again.

leaving your safe area for the foreseeable future, you hesitantly went outside.

the red lining your eyes and your skin beginning to pale was the first thing that came to his attention as you met him outside.

“are you alright?” he asked, his voice full of fright.

“my stomach hurts” you answered, while not technically lying.

you didn’t want to come across as ruining the night by your own fear.

“i’m sorry” you let out, the guilt getting to you.

he hugged you, saying “don’t apologize, please, we’ll go home”.

he didn‘t know exactly why you became sick, but he knew better than to keep you in public while being so sick.

once you arrived home, he asked “did you catch something?” caressing your leg as you sat beside him in the parked car.

“umm” you thought for a second, “i think so”.

he looked you dead in the eye, a full minute passing by, before responding “you’re not a very good liar”.

you looked at him in confusion, trying to pass your lie off as reality.

“please, tell me the truth” he pleaded.

now you were hurting him, you thought.

your lies were too see-through to continue with this, hence why you fessed up.

“my anxiety got the best of me, there were too many people there, it made me sick” you confessed.

you felt the comfort of a hand on your shoulder within a second, feeling shitty for ending your date early.

“i understand” he said, continuing “we can have an even better night at home instead”.

you smiled, glad to see him okay with the current situation.

“of course, thank you” you said.

the rest of the night was full of sweets and cuddles, watching a fluffy drama on the tv.

you fell asleep on the couch together, awoken by saeran the next morning wanting to sit down within saeyoungs foot in his lap.

---

20:00 AST - 09/06/21

[discotenny]

!Giving him a Massage!

Chuuya, Dazai, and Akutagawa’s significant other giving them a massage

A little trigger notice for Dazai’s suicide schemes 

!Requested by anon! [unedited]

Chuuya

He’s a self care qween. Knows the value of taking care of himself and has probably gone to a few masseuses on his days off before

Chuuya always gets sore after fights. Today, he had gotten into another dispute, him alone against several armed guards while he made a break for a specific brief case he was after

While the fight was easy, it was quite long and tedious. Every time he took down a guard, it seemed like five more came to go against him

He got through it of course, he’s Chuuya fucking Nahakara, but his back was killing him once he got home. Using his ability for long periods of time made him exhausted and gave him a mild headache if activated constantly

All he wanted to do was rest. When he arrived home, he didn’t even bother changing into his house clothes. He threw off his hat and coat and flopped onto the bed, letting out a long sigh

You had heard your boyfriends groan, and walked in to see him disheveled and tired

He seemed to be uncomfortable, so you cracked your knuckles and sat down on his butt

“Babe not now I’m ti--” as soon as your elbow found itself on his back his train of thought instantly disappeared

You held your hand onto his neck, rubbing it slowly as you continued applying pressure on his back with your other hand

Chuuya let out something similar to a purr, and he relaxed with a blissful smile

Put as much pressure as you feel like putting, his back is so tight and he needs to let loose

If you begin to massage his head too he’ll probably nut

Dazai

Dazai is as stiff as a board 

All the ways to carry out his own death that he tries cannot be good for his joints [did you see the position he was in when he was in the barrel good lord I feel so sorry for him]

Dazai barely takes care of himself, let alone stretching properly before jobs. The way he sleeps is also killer for his neck how tf is he even alive

The weight of all his poor choices hits him at once, and he’s left there laying on the couch complaining 

But you really need him to do some chores and help you out, so you force him to sit up 

He complains, twisting his neck all around to attempt to relieve his own pain. “Dazai no— you’re going to break your own neck,” you say, placing your hands gently on each side of his head to stop him from continuing

Your hands move into his hair, and you begin lightly scratching and rubbing his scalp

If he weren’t overwhelmed with the pleasant feeling that provided, Dazai would have probably made a joke about it being foreplay

You spent a better part of the afternoon attempting to release years of built up tension in his muscles, and he relished in every second of it

Afterwards, Dazai was all over you., he’s never felt this good before! He called you an angel sent down to take care of him, and rubbed his cheek against yours

After you reveal your skill in massaging, he’ll try to relieve you in turn. He’s really rough and bad at it though don’t let him try

Akutagawa

He’s so stiff all the time from that stick up his ass constantly jKJKJK

This loser has awful posture too, always straining his neck with the amount of looking down he does

However, Akutagawa is very touch sensitive and wouldn’t let anyone touch his neck or head randomly

You feel bad for him. He shoulders all problems thrown on him on his own and it takes a toll on him [both mentally and physically]

One day he sits on the bed with you beside him, reading a book that had caught his interest, and you bring your hands to his shoulders

He lets out an embarrassingly high scream and quickly moves to the end of the bed

He asks what tf you were planning on doing, and you try to explain to him that you want to help him release his own stress

Akutagawa is still on edge, but hears you out and sneaks closer to you

Your hands find themselves on his shoulders again, and you feel him tense up below you

“Hey just-- Just calm down I wont hurt you”

He relaxes a little, and your heart swells up with the amount of trust he’s putting into you

Your thumbs move to rub his neck, while the rest of your fingers go to rub the back of his shoulders

He closes his eyes and Akutagawa lets himself have the luxury of love for this moment

He slowly falls asleep to your actions, a peaceful smile plastering itself onto his face

!hallo babs! I hope that I described the sessions well enough. I give massages to my family so I just wrote from my personal experience in the way you massage the boyz

Enjoy~~

[starlocked01]

Toddlers Scare the Living Shit Out of Me

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 4- Parents

WC: 3k

Summary: Virgil is very surprised when he's brought home by a fascinating stranger at the bar. A kid wasn't exactly what he agreed to in a one-night stand. Nor did he expect a relationship.

Content Warnings: Alcohol Use, Talk of divorce, Swearing, Mild gory language

@dukexietyweek

(also thank you @suchaswearemads for their OC Teddy 🧡)

Virgil was mildly aware that he might regret this if he lived until morning. His roommate would probably have a statistic at the ready about criminals luring victims away from clubs with whispered promises of sex or drugs, and how often they target gay men. Virgil snorted a laugh to himself. Poor Lo would kill him himself if he knew what Virgil was up to. This guy even looked the part of an unhinged surprise organ donation scheduler, all covered in spikes and tattoos of anatomical cross-sections all over his visible skin. If Virgil were any drunker, he'd probably mistake him for a skeleton or half dissected cadaver.

He really didn't care. He was drunk and Remus said pretty words that made him feel wanted. He'd follow the cadaver man halfway around the world like this. Exactly proving Logan right that he shouldn't go out drinking alone. He giggled and stumbled and giggled because he stumbled and the ground was spinning under his feet.

"What’s so funny, Dr. Gloom 'n' Giggles?" Remus caught Virgil and pulled him back upright, even as his brain fought to stay closer to the ground and made the whole damn world lurch in protest.

"Hey! 'M fine. Yourrr gonna kill me, bad man mad man. Fuuuuuuuck I had way too- didya spike 'e?" Virgil struggled to form a single, coherent sentence, feeling the alcohol's effects acutely and in increasing measure with each step towards doom and destruction.

Remus laughed, "ya caught me. Why don't I call you a taxi home?"

"Nooo! I sssaaid I'd come home withya- ssooo I am," Virgil shook his head and tried to stand and remain upright. His attempt lasted all of a second before Remus had to catch him again.

"Look, I don’t need you trying to puke all over my dick or something. I'm calling you a fucking cab," Remus tried to reason but Virgil heard none of it as he yanked himself away to hurl in the bushes.

"'M fine. Commmmming down," Virgil panted, trying desperately to steady himself. After several deep breaths and false starts, he managed to stay upright and reach for a steadying hand. Whatever had knocked him on his ass so quickly was also fading just as fast, "shiitt, did you spike my drink?"

"Nah, man. Come on, we're almost there."

---

Remus stared at this drunk little catch from the bar and was glad he was the one who'd picked him up. Someone must have tried something funny with his drink. Bad enough news for everyone else still at the club but at least this one was safe.

Remus shook his head and checked his phone to call a cab only to find the phone dead already. Shit. No way to warn Roman now. Remus waited for Virgil to finish puking his guts out on the neighbor's lawn, pretty dead set on getting this guy help as soon as they got home and he convinced Ro he needed a favor.

Slowly, he helped Virgil towards his front door, surprised at how fast the intoxication seemed to be turning around as Virgil got steadier on his own feet. Remus winced when he couldn’t find his keys and cursed when Virgil reached out and rang the doorbell.

"Stop! It's way too late for that!" Remus hissed as the door quickly opened to a very pissed-off looking Roman.

"Are you crazy! Pat's asleep- oh… oh who the fuck is this?" Roman asked, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him, "Remus, you promised tonight!"

"Ro, calm down. This is Virgil. Yes, I promised, but do you think you could take-"

"No!" Roman exclaimed furiously, "I have work tomorrow! I can't take Pat. Send Virgil home and be a grown-up for once!" Roman grumbled and turned abruptly back inside.

"Roman! Someone tried to spike him-" Remus hissed, pulling Virgil inside with him "-and before it hit, he was the best guy I've met in my life."

"Oh you mean just like Mr. Wonderful?" Roman snarked back in a low voice as he gathered his belongings. Remus winced at the reminder.

"Don't be a dick, brother dearest. That's my job. Please, I promise this time will be the last-"

"I can't! Teddy is already worried that I'm out this late. We love Patton but we're not raising him for you. You're not a kid anymore, Rem. Learn to date like an adult because we're not babysitting while you go out clubbing like this again," Roman huffed and stormed toward the door, "sorry to meet you like this, Virgil. I hope you feel better soon."

Virgil barely lifted his hand to wave as Roman left and shut the door with a dreadful finality. Remus slumped and sat at the foot of the couch Virgil had sprawled on.

"Sorry about him. How ya doing, Virgie?" Remus asked quietly.

Virgil groaned, "head hurts. Still tipsy. What the fuck did you do to my drink?"

"I didn't do anything but save you from whoever did," Remus shook his head and stood, "I'll get you some water. Or gatorade. Or milk. Fuck what do I even-"

Remus was suddenly cut off by clattering dishes and a small whimpering coming from the kitchen. In a few swift steps, he entered the kitchen and flicked on the lights to find a plate toppled from the counter to the floor, the fridge cracked open, and a toddler trying very hard to hide behind the trash can.

"Pattycake! What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?" Remus slapped on a grin and swooped the child into his arms with a grunt, "oh big boy. Getting too old to pick up like this."

Patton squeaked in his father's arms as he was lifted up, "got loud, Papa. Unkie Ro promised me a second cookie before bed."

"He did now?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised in mock shock.

"Mhmm. Said Unkie Teddy'd bring it. Where's Unkie Teddy?"

"Oh no! Ro was gonna call the cookie monster himself to get ya?" Remus gasped as he shifted his hold on the child and nudged the plate under the sink to take care of in the morning, "Uncle Ro promised you a cookie monster and didn't show up? That fiend!" Remus giggled with Patton as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge, shutting the door with his hip.

"Unkie Monsta!" Patton giggled, clinging to Remus’s neck.

"Mhmm. It's really late buddy. You should get back to bed," Remus cooed as he dropped one of the water bottles on Virgil’s chest.

"What the hell-?" Virgil tried to sit up, utterly confused who Remus was talking to now.

"Hey! You don't get to cuss in front of my kid until date five!" Remus snapped, holding Patton close. Virgil blinked at the baby blue eyes, curly blonde hair and the overwhelming amount of freckles as the child stared back at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Papa, who's that? He looks spiky," Patton whimpered, quickly hiding his face from Virgil.

"Baby, I'm spiky. I like spiky people," Remus carefully soothed, running a hand through soft curls, "he's one of Papa's new friends."

Virgil watched, unamused, "you didn't say that you have a kid. What, were you planning on bringing me back here with a toddler who could walk in and see anything?"

"Look, I was trying to ask my brother to babysit him overnight. You're hella cute but I didn't expect to make this introduction so quickly," Remus huffed, "Pattybear, be nice and say hi and then you best be headed back to bed, mister."

Patton peeked one eye out to appraise the stranger in his spot on the couch. After a long moment, he waved and barely audibly whispered a small, "hi."

Virgil smiled at the typical child response to his neon purple hair and uncountable piercings, but Remus laughed loudly, startling both the drunk man and the child, "oh Come on! That was weak shit, Pat-Pat. Say it like you mean it!"

"That's not necess-"

"HI!" the tiny voice bellowed over his protests. Father and son laughed together as Virgil sputtered.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, my little monster! Alright, enough fun. Back to bed, you rascal. Papa has to take care of the baby who drank too much apple juice," Remus beamed and set Patton down on the ground, waving as the child sped off back to his room.

"Cute kid. You didn’t mention a kid earlier," Virgil groaned and laid back down on the couch, head swimming.

"Yeah well, kids are chick magnets," Remus replied, not meeting Virgil’s eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'm into dudes…"

"And? It's not like a kid is gonna send good guys running," Virgil shrugged, very much regretting his choice of drinks that night.

"Yeah, you haven't run yet. But that was a very tired out and pacified little scamp you just met. You'll see in the morning- unless you wanted me to call you a cab now?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't wanna move," Virgil murmured, "but I would like kissesss."

"Direct. I like it," Remus smirked and slid down to kneel next to the couch, "but that would be taking advantage of your weakened defenses. Sleep it off and ask me in the morning."

Virgil whined and pouted at the denial, "please? I came all this way."

"Well, if you insist," Remus grinned and leaned in close. Virgil smirked and pulled Remus forward that last inch. Virgil tried hard to enjoy the kiss but the fact of the not yet sleeping child in another room tempered his desires greatly. After a minute, Remus pulled back and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch.

"To be continued, Dr. Love."

"Fine. Good night," Virgil sighed and watched Remus stand and leave the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

---

Virgil awoke the next morning to a warm palm pressed against his cheek. He slowly blinked his eyes open to find bright blue eyes framed with thin black wire-rimmed glasses. Squinting out the light to protect himself from the impending headache, Virgil finally recognized the child from the night before.

"Hey, Patton-"

"Angels sing and demons cry, but we can't tell the difference," Patton stated sweetly, head tilted to one side.

"Hey Kiddo, breakfast time!" Remus called from the kitchen, "is Virgil up yet?"

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine as the child giggled, patted his face, and called back, "yes Papa! We're coming!"

Virgil groaned and sat up slowly, sore from sleeping on the couch with his piercings still in. How he'd managed to fall asleep in skinny jeans absolutely baffled him, almost as much as the peculiar little kid staring at him expectantly.

"What d'ya want, kid?"

"A kitty!"

"I don't have a kitty."

Patton’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears and his lip quivered before the child ran screaming back to the kitchen.

Virgil was sorely tempted to roll back over and hope he woke up somewhere quieter, but the smell of bacon and the temptation of seeing Remus in the daylight pushed him to his feet.

The guy he'd met in the bar had practically disappeared once Patton showed up. Remus had been flirty and suggestive and very interested in Virgil all night but nothing in his behavior would have ever led Virgil to suspect he had a kid and was capable of acting so.. fatherly. The man’s duality was almost unsettling.

Virgil walked over and stood in the door of the kitchen, silently watching Remus encouraging the weeping little boy to sit down and eat toast. He still wasn't sure why Patton had thought he would have a cat with him, but the disappointment had surely gotten to the little fella.

Remus looked up and gave Virgil a tired grin, "heya, sleeping beauty. How's your head?"

"Threatening to disown me. I didn’t touch him. He asked if I had a cat," Virgil nodded to Patton, hoping that Remus didn't think he'd purposefully hurt the kid.

"Oh don't worry. He asks everyone. His dad promised him one and well, do you see a litter box?" Remus rolled his eyes, standing and guiding Patton to the table, "you'd think after so many empty promises, the kid would know better, right?"

"Wait… you're his dad, right?" Virgil frowned.

"Nope!" Patton giggled, twirling his spoon between his fingers, "Dada lives in the big house!"

"Patton, eat your breakfast!" Remus barked, not unkindly before turning back to Virgil with a sigh, "no offense, but Patton’s dad is not exactly first date story material. Neither is Patton but well, that can't be helped now."

Virgil bit his lip, "right. None of my business… Except I shouldn't be here if you're married."

"I'm not married, sweetheart," Remus held up his hand to show off the lack of a ring.

"And this mystery father isn't… ya know," Virgil drew a finger across his throat in a wordless question.

"I fucking wish! Look, it's none of your damn business, Virgil. You want breakfast or the door?" Remus snapped, turning back to the food on the stove.

Virgil sighed and sat down next to Patton at the table, idly arranging shaped blocks in a haphazard pattern, "I'm sorry. I just don’t want to get in the middle of something complicated without knowing that's what's up. Yo, got another triangle for me, Pat?"

Patton grinned and grabbed a triangle from the table before shoving it somewhat painfully into Virgil’s palm. Remus watched the interaction and sighed overly dramatically.

"Hey, baby, why don't you go get dressed and pick out a movie?" Remus ruffled Patton’s hair, "no horror movies today though."

"Awwwww but I love the scary ones," Patton moped but obediently left the table.

Remus waited until Patton was out of sight before replying, "look, I don't have any secrets. I got nothing to hide. The only complicated thing right now is custody. My ex and I are separated and don't talk. Hell, I try to get him to pick Pattom up from Roman and Teddy's every chance I get. I love the little tyke but his dad pisses me off."

Virgil bit his lip, "that does not sound ideal."

Remus shook his head, "it's not. Like one day you're planning a wedding and processing an adoption, then before you know it you're divorced and fighting with the man you love for custody of the child he said made him sick to look at." Remus gritted his teeth, "Pat deserves so much better…"

Virgil nodded along with Remus’s story, "so why go out clubbing during your time with Patton? He doesn't need two absent fathers."

Remus chuckled, "don't freak out, but the first one of us who remarries has a huge advantage in getting full custody. Because neither of us is biologically related to Pat-Pat, it's become way too much of a battle.

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, studying the grain of the wood in the table.

"It's alright," Remus shrugged, "you're alright, Virge. Can I get that number now?"

Virgil laughed and took the offered phone, "yeah, call me when you've got some free time and Patton is with his dad."

Remus grinned and pocketed the phone, "oh you'll see how this works, sweetheart."

---

Patton was nearly a constant whenever Virgil met with Remus, but at least Roman had been mollified by Remus having a steady date so he and Teddy resumed babysitting during more adult dates. The Remus he'd met at the bar never quite resurfaced in the same way, sometimes the actual image of the tatted-up punk caring for a sweet little angelic-looking demon spawn of a kid took Virgil by surprise, and sometimes he was shocked with the things this man would say to his kid. Teddy constantly questioned Virgil why he had stayed even after learning more about the whole situation.

Virgil wasn't certain why. Patton had definitely tried to scare him off a few times. The kid was terrifying when he wanted to be.

But this little family was so very compelling, and Virgil was more and more certain with each date that he wanted a place in it.

"So, sugar…"

"Yeah, Rem?"

"I have a modest proposal for you-"

"Nope. Not gonna eat babies."

"Wha-?"

"Oh, shoot I thought for sure you were talking about the satirical essay. What's up, babe?" Virgil winced and turned to face Remus.

"How would you… like to start the process to become one of Patton’s legal guardians?"

"You're asking your boyfriend to adopt your kid who already has two dads?"

"Well yeah, because-"

"Because then the paperwork is ready to sign right after the wedding," Virgil interrupted with a grin, "you sneaky son of a biscuit!"

Remus laughed, "please, baby?"

"Not my call, sweetheart," Virgil smirked, "hey, Pattycake!"

Little feet pounded down the hallway, Patton skidding to a halt in the kitchen, "yeah? Prince Sparkles is in danger so this better be important!"

"You can save the Prince soon enough, kid. How would you feel-" Virgil suddenly felt very nervous as the gravity of the question finally hit him, "-how would you like… another dad?"

"Umm.. do I have to meet him?" Patton looked disappointed and confused.

"No, Pat-attack, Virgil is asking if he can be your dad too," Remus explained gently.

"You aren't already? I demand you be my dad this instant!" Patton bellowed at Virgil, pouting with the most betrayed expression he could muster.

Virgil laughed, "don't worry kid, this is just gonna be the paperwork that makes it official. You know I got you."

"Yay! New Dad! New Dad!" Patton beamed and ran around the table to dive into Virgil’s arms. Virgil caught him with a grunt and leaned into Remus.

"I think that's a yes from me," Virgil murmured

"Most excellent. Now I've got both my boys!" Remus grinned and wrapped both in a bear hug to seal the deal.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 4 -

- Ao3 link -

It had been an inauspicious year to begin with.

A poor harvest led to famine among the common people, which in turn created conditions ripe for evil creatures of all sorts; the night-hunts that were often treated as playful competition by the cultivation world became more like the boring drudgery of everyday work, disciples setting off in packs on a regular basis all over, time and time again. The tension wore on the sects, some more than others, and dozens of small disputes began to rise up, needing to be dealt with. Lan Qiren’s schedule became busy, and then busier, and then became overwhelming; he was forced to discard one pastime after another in his efforts to hold back the rising tide, and in the end sacrificed sleep and sometimes meals to preserve only two: playing for Jiwei and spending time with his nephews.

It meant that he was unprepared, both mentally and physically, for word of the death of Cangse Sanren and her husband, which took over two years to finally come to ears of the Great Sects – such a shocking failure of information that Lan Qiren briefly wondered if it had been concealed intentionally.

The sudden shock of grief hit him hard.

He tried to convince himself that he had expected it, that she had expected it, that at least her son was now safe in the Lotus Pier, and yet all he could think about was that he had one less friend in the world. The sadness interfered with his focus, creeping in at all hours, uncontrollable, until one evening he was playing guqin with his nephews and looked up to find them both weeping uncontrollably from the music he was playing. When he tried to stop mid-song, he abruptly collapsed, and upon waking was informed that he had become feverish at some point in the night.

His sect doctors advised him to go into seclusion until he could control himself.

Lan Qiren refused.

They advised him again, this time with greater insistence, and with the support of his sect elders.

“Tell them to fuck off,” Lao Nie suggested, pouring a calming tea that he’d brought from Qinghe.

He’d come to visit with his sons, Nie Mingjue disappearing with Lan Xichen as always and Nie Huaisang engaged in the newest stage in his eternal battle of wills with Lan Wangji over a game of weiqi that they were both taking far, far too seriously.

(Despite knowing Lan Wangji and indeed Nie Huaisang better than most people alive, Lan Qiren honestly could not determine whether the two of them despised each other or were close friends. Lao Nie claimed the answer was both, simultaneously, but Lan Qiren didn’t understand that at all.)

“That is not how we do things here,” Lan Qiren said, accepting a cup. It was rude for him to allow a fellow sect leader who was his guest to serve him, rather than the other way around, but he had a headache from the persistent fever and exhaustion that was even more persistent, the boundless river of grief in his heart translating into physical agony, and anyway Lao Nie hadn’t exactly asked permission before proceeding. “It would be more appropriate for me to present a well-reasoned case for it not being necessary, based on rules, authority, and precedent.”

“Except you can’t put one together because you’re upset and tired,” Lao Nie said with a snort. “That’s stupid. You’re overworked, stretched too thin, you just found out that your friend is dead – you need sleep, not seclusion. Anyway, what happens if you do go into seclusion? Aren’t they always saying they need you to stick around to be Sect Leader so desperately?”

Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “It would not be true seclusion. I would be expected to continue certain parts of the work.”

“You’re joking.”

“It would be primarily administrative correspondence –”

“By that token, your brother ought to do it!”

Lan Qiren glared. “It’s not the same and you know it. And they are not wrong that I need rest.”

“From what I recall of what you’ve told me about your sect’s practice of seclusion, that’s not rest,” Lao Nie said acidly. “Surely there’s something I can do to help. I could send over some of my disciples…”

“Excellent idea,” Lan Qiren said, rolling his eyes. “We can replace all those rumors that I’ve been secretly pining for years over my best female friend with ones regarding my best male friend.”

“It is a little ‘hero rushes to save the lady’, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, shaking his head in amusement. “But seriously, I came here for a reason, and it’s not Jiwei or A-Jue or anything like that. You’re always trying to help me, Qiren. For once, let me help you.”

Lan Qiren would normally protest this – because Lao Nie had so done many things for him over the years that it was an incorrect statement, because he hated the helpless feeling of letting someone do things for him, because that wasn’t something sect leaders did for each other – but he was tired and he feared seclusion and sometimes he thought it might be nice to do one thing that could be considered a little reckless before he died.

“Very well,” he said, closing his eyes and drinking the tea. “Do as you like.”

That was a dangerous thing to say to someone like Lao Nie, who promptly pulled three dozen Nie sect disciples from out of nowhere and sent them scurrying around hunting down evil with the energetic enthusiasm of youth entrusted with gigantic sabers and the freedom to use them as they would, while he himself settled in very happily in Lan Qiren’s home, sleeping on a guest bed, keeping away unwanted visitors and helping with any paperwork that didn’t explicitly require a Lan. He also recruited Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to assist, despite Lan Qiren’s protests that bureaucratic busywork was not an appropriate way for boys of approximately fifteen and definitely twelve, respectively, to spend their time; both of them very solemnly assured Lan Qiren that they were more than happy to do whatever they could.

Even little Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang bullied their way into being involved, insisting that they wanted to do it more than they wanted to train or play, although at their ages there really wasn’t much they could do besides grind ink and run messages to the relevant recipients.

As Lan Qiren might have expected, rumors immediately started about some sort of torrid affair – life would be so much easier if everyone obeyed the rules against gossiping purposelessly – and they even got to the point that several of the sect elders cautiously hinted to him that although cutsleeve relationships were far from being in vogue, they had at no point been explicitly forbidden by the rules, and cited several provisions which seemed to favor such things.

Lan Qiren had thanked them for the reminder and caustically commented that he would be sure to incorporate that into his next set of lectures as he could see no other reason for them to mention it, and soon enough they backed off, shaking their heads. Still, those busybodies that had his best interests in mind were still preferable to the ones that started once more raising the idea of finding him a nice bride of suitable age – by suitable age, they meant too old for children, lest he get any idea of challenging his brother’s line of descent – before he did anything foolish like fall in love, or, worse, to act on it.

Obviously he had no intentions of permitting that.

Still, after a month of enforced rest, Lan Qiren was feeling a bit more himself. He took on more and more of the work, albeit supervised by five sets of judging eyes, and even began to play once more, this time without bringing anyone to tears. Jiwei and Xinfei rested together by the door in comfortable equilibrium, hot and cold, weak and powerful, and the jade pendant that Lan Qiren carried with him remained cool to the touch, not hot at all.

“You will need to go soon,” he told Lao Nie, who shrugged, not denying it – a month was a long time for a sect leader to be away from home absent some valid excuse like a war, not quite too long but starting to push it. No matter how effective one’s deputies were nor how much work one did from a distance, a sect leader was still necessary, in the end, or else Lan Qiren’s life would have been very different.

“Next week,” he said. “That’ll give me just enough time to take the boys home before heading back out again for the conference in Qishan.”

“There’s a conference? I wasn’t informed.”

“No, you weren’t, because I didn’t inform you,” Lao Nie said, utterly shameless. “You’re going to stay here and rest. It’s just a stupid party.”

“That doesn’t matter if it is also a stupid party which everyone else is attending,” Lan Qiren said sternly.

“Jiang Fengmian isn’t going, either,” Lao Nie said. “Doesn’t want to leave his new ward alone just yet…newest rumor has it that Wei Wuxian’s his bastard with Cangse Sanren.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes. “Of course. Wasn’t I the one having the affair with her last week?”

“Perhaps it was a love triangle?”

“A square, at minimum. Don’t forget she had a husband.”

“A pyramid!”

“Lao Nie…”

Lao Nie laughed. “Jin Guangshan isn’t making it, either. His wife’s giving birth – predictions say to a daughter, I think, assuming this one survives the birth – and all accounts say that she’s threatened to cut his balls off if he even thinks of leaving Lanling City. So, you see, it really is just a stupid party, and by missing it you’ll be doing just the same thing as all the other Great Sects.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden stab of misgiving. “Except you.”

“Except me,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “Me and Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren truly did not want to know what went on in Lao Nie’s mind sometimes.

“Why don’t you refrain from going as well?” he asked, aware he sounded tetchy and irritable like some jealous wife in an opera. “If no one else is going.”

“Oh, I have to go. A-Han asked for me specifically,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren thought to himself oh I’m certain he did, then promptly felt bad about doing so. Sneering for no reason was prohibited. “Someone’s gifted him with some magnificent saber for his collection, apparently, and he was boasting that it was the best there was right up until someone stuck their nose in it and said that it was all well and good but no comparison to my Jiwei.”

Lan Qiren could imagine exactly how well a statement like that had gone over with Wen Ruohan.

“And now he’s demanding you show up and produce evidence?” he asked, unimpressed.

Lao Nie grinned. “Ah, Qiren, it’s almost like you’ve met the man before.”

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Lan Qiren said. “Why should you go just because he asked? He’s your equal, not your master.”

“There’s no harm in giving him some face.”

Lan Qiren could think of several ways that it could lead to harm, the inflation of Wen Ruohan’s already bloated ego being not the least of them, but Lao Nie was his equal as well, his equal and his elder. If the man had made up his mind, as it clearly appeared that he had, there was nothing Lan Qiren could say that would change it.

“Good luck, then,” he said, shaking his head, and called the boys to come in for dinner. As usual, the Lan half of the table remained mute while the Nie half did nothing but chatter, each according to their own family custom. It was a test of wills and endurance – Lan Wangji’s eye kept twitching every time Nie Huaisang filled in words for him, possibly due to the extremely high pitch Nie Huaisang chose to represent him – but it was a joy to share the time with them nonetheless.

Before Lao Nie left, Lan Qiren tried, not for the first time, to press the jade pendant that resonated with Jiwei into his hand. “You should take it with you,” he insisted. “Especially if you’re going to the Nightless City to exhibit your saber – there’s a great deal of resentful energy there, and you know that always gets Jiwei’s bloodlust up.”

“Which in turn will sharpen my reflexes, just when I need them most,” Lao Nie said, pressing the jade pendant right back into Lan Qiren’s hand. “Better you have it.”

“Lao Nie…”

“Jiwei likes you now,” Lao Nie said, as if that mattered. “She’s been just as avid to protect you as I’ve been, this past month – if I didn’t need her by my side, I’d almost be tempted to leave her here with you.”

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I can’t protect myself? Here? In the Cloud Recesses?”

“Saber spirits are not smart, Qiren. But even she can tell that you’re not well yet.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand dismissively. “Well enough,” he said, and it was even true – the grief was still there, of course, and likely would be every time he thought of Cangse Sanren in the near future, excluding maybe the few times when it was one of his students that resembled her only in terms of how much mischief she would get up to, but it was no longer drowning him. He had hope that, in time, this wound would also scab over and the hurt fade, and that at that time he could once again think of her with nothing but joy.

Lao Nie huffed. “Well enough isn’t well,” he grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his children and his disciples and heading out back towards Qinghe. “Take care of yourself, Qiren! Be well!”

“And you,” Lan Qiren said. “Keep out of trouble, my friend.”

From what he later heard, the party at the Nightless City went about as anyone with half a brain might have expected: Wen Ruohan swanned around until Lao Nie showed up, there were tense words exchanged, and then Lao Nie produced Jiwei, allowing Wen Ruohan to examine her and even pat her a few times before the Wen sect leader was forced, with great reluctance and through gritted teeth, to admit her superiority to the saber he had received.

The stories ended there, but Lan Qiren had enough imagination to fill in how the rest of the night might have gone, especially with the only sect leaders there being Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan. He sincerely hoped that Lao Nie had remembered all those lectures he’d given him about the foolishness of lying in the same bed as poisonous snakes, no matter how beautiful they might be on the surface.

Perhaps he had, perhaps he hadn’t.

Either way, Lan Qiren heard nothing else until the day he interrupted his own afternoon lecture with a sudden cry of intense pain – the jade pendant had abruptly gone so hot that it had burned, and although his clothing, protected by stitched-in incantations, was unharmed, the heat was so severe that it had nevertheless left a mark on his thigh through all those layers.

Clutching at his leg, Lan Qiren ordered his students to run to fetch him cold water and a doctor, and wondered what in the world had happened.

A letter, he decided. He would write Lao Nie a letter to ask.

[bleh-bleh-blehs]

Paps and Cafes [T.H x Reader]

A/N- so hey I am back with my shitty fics. This is low-key based on my friend’s life and thanks to her for letting me write it down (only she knows what is the truth and what’s not). Anyways feel free to ignore:)

Summary- Is there any difference between being stressed at home than being stress at a cafe? Yes there is. You can put a show for others but in your case a certain someone came in for your aid. 

Warning- None 

Word Count- 1.6k

Life was not easy. Not as easy as you thought it would be. No one prepared you for the taxes, rent and bills. And literally no one told you how hard doing a job can be. Your salary was nothing compared to the hard work you did; the stress you took. 

You had no fun at all. Either you were too tired to go out and have a night out with your friends or you did extra office work for a bonus. Just like now. You are sitting in an outdoor cafe doing your office’s work when you could have been enjoying this weekend by relaxing. 

Why were you here?

Because you thought that it would be a good idea. You thought that it would refresh your mind, better than stupid small aparment. But guess what it wasn’t. 

You were still stressed. The people around were either on a date or were with their friends or family. Practically radiating good vibes. You tried not to stare at them but the task in our hand almost made you cry. 

Reaching out for the file beside the plate of donut; accidentally knocking the plate over. But you were too overwhelmed to care. Tightly clutching the file, tears of frustration evident in your eyes. It was getting too much now. 

“Come on Tess. We don't eat food off the floor. I am really sorry for your donut. Do you want me to buy you a new one?” the person asked. 

Looking up you saw a man wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with hoodie on. You simply nodded your head in a no, wiping some tears away. “It’s okay. I don’t mind at all.” you gave a weak smile. Honestly you have lost your appetite. You just eat because it is necessary. 

“Can I ask if it was a chocolate donut? The man asked. 

“No, it was a plain one.” the man took the seat in front of you, taking off his glasses. “I know that this is none of my business but are you okay?” 

“Would you believe me if i said that I am.” 

“No. I just know that you are stressed because look at your table. All this stuff is giving me a headache so…. I think you should just wrap it up to clear your mind. And I don't wanna hear any excuse. okay? ” he didn’t press the matter further. He definitely doesn’t know what is going on in your life. All he knows is that he isn’t gonna leave you like this. 

You wanted to argue but it is not like anyone is this friendly to you on a daily basis. And a little walk wouldn’t harm. 

*

“You know what you should quit that job. I mean you don’t deserve being treated like that” tom said as he took the last bite of his ice cream. You still couldn’t believe that Tom Holland,the famous and successful actor, the heartthrob of almost all of the girls was talking to you.

He listened to you rant about your almost pathetic life and even bought you your favourite ice cream. 

You were of course shocked when you realised who he was despite him telling that he is a normal person like everyone else. He also squeezed your hand to reassure you that this is not a dream; that he is actually here. 

Both of you talked about your lives, likes and dislikes, hobbies. Only the basic stuff. You told him about your low salary job, your evil boss and your not so friendly coworkers. Your love life which was near to extinction. And about your parents who desperately wanted you to get settled.

“It’s not that easy Tom. I am looking for another job but I don’t know when I will find one. At least this job pays enough for food and shelter.” you told him or more like convinced yourself. 

Silence fell between you both until Tessa whimpered. She was obviously tired from the long walk and it was getting cold and windy as the sun started to set. “I guess this is where we part.” you said softly. Praying that this moment never ends. But of course that was not gonna happen. 

“Yeah.” he gave you a soft smile. And you were sure that you were giving the heart eyes. Making a fool of yourself as usual. 

“Oww!” 

“What? What happened?” 

“I got something in my eye.” you were hopelessly trying to get whatever the hell was in your eye out. “Wait a moment. Let me see.” Tom’s large hands cup your face while you get a hold on his arms out of instinct. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” it felt weird as his finger touched your eyeball. “Stop moving. You are making this harder than it already is!” you stopped fidgeting instantly. 

“There you go.” Tom backed away from you as you tried to blink away the uneasy feeling. “Let’s walk you home shall we?” Tom said as he picked very tired Tessa from the ground and carried her as if she was a toddler. 

“You don’t have to.” he just smiled. “I want to.” never in million years you thought that a top notch actor will walk you to your apartment. 

“I am sorry if I am intruding but I can’t believe you are not dating somebody and you just gave up on your friends. Is your job really worth it?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“I am single by my choice not because of my job. My last relationship didn’t end well. She cheated on me and my “friends” took her side except my coworker Andy. I have got trust issues since then.” you explained him. 

“I am so sorry” he felt guilty to make you remember your relationship again. 

“Don’t be. I did go on a date once; the guy gave me a judgy look as soon as I told him that I am a bisexual. I mean do nice people just stop existing or what?” you huffed in annoyance. 

Meanwhile Tom was trying to process everything in his brain. He was actually starting to like you and was worried that you won’t feel the same way for him since you were into girls. But he heard word ‘bisexual’ his worries vanished. There is nothing stopping him from taking you on a date. 

Tom was smiling to himself until he heard the shutter of the camera went off. That could be only one thing. 

Paparazzi

Tom spotted two people not so far from them. Tessa tried to wiggle out of Tom’s arms but he didn’t let her. “Y/N hold my arm and keep up with my pace. The paps are here.” you immediately started to look up for them.  

“No Y/N don’t look for them!” Tom whisper yelled. 

The two of you walked as fast as you could. Taking the subway to go to your house. You and Tom stood close to each other, completely aware that someone recognised Tom and snuck some pictures of you both. 

Tessa whimpered again and again; the poor baby was too uncomfortable. You scratched her head to soothe her as she laid her head on Tom’s shoulder. While Tom was giving you heart eyes. 

You sighed in relief as you reached your apartment. The whole day has been a roller coaster ride for you. Tom and Tessa followed you behind you. Tessa quickly jumped on your couch, closing her eyes, trying to get some rest. 

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” you asked Tom. “No I am fine.” Tom said as he took a seat beside Tessa. 

“I didn’t really get to enjoy that cafe though.” Tom wondered out loud. “Don’t worry, there many more cafes in the neighbourhood. You can visit them sometime.” You were walking around your apartment, trying to clean it as much as you could. It’s not like you are visited by a celebrity daily. 

“I don’t know, maybe you can show me around sometime?” you freezed at your spot. Was Tom Holland asking you on a date. You were freaking out. You are just imagining things right? 

“Do you agree with me, darling?” he smirked. How dare him to say that! “It’s alright if you don’t. I mean I totally understand if you don’t want to. I am so sorry because of the paps. I didn’t know that they would find us. I am so sorry Y/N.” he started to ramble. Becoming that adorable sweet bean instantly.

“Oh my god Tom it’s alright. Not the Paparazzi part but I am grateful that Tessa ate my donut and that relieved my stress. I really needed someone like you. I don’t know what we can do about paps, they will just give more stress. But I felt better when you were with me.” Tom gave you that million dollar smile that everybody dies on. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now.” he confessed. 

“What’s stopping you then.” 

“No, not before I take you on an actual date.” he grinded. “Which cafe do you want to show me first, Donut?” 

“Donut?” you asked him while trying to control your laugh. “Yes donut. What’s so wrong with donut. It’s my nickname for you.” your smile became more wide than before. 

“Then what do you want me to call you? Ice cream?” 

“Yes?” he gave you a puzzled look. Not sure if he wanted to be called ‘ice cream’. And a thought came to your mind. “You don’t have any problem with me being bisexual?” you asked him. “Why would I? I mean it's not my place to judge or have a problem with it, now is it?” you smiled at his answer, already falling hard for this man.

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[itseivwhore]

Hey can you do something short about ezio and jacob with a sick reader, I have the cold and it's so overwhelming and painful, and I can't help the sore throat

Heyo there anonimo,thank you a lot for requesting this,it's something that I have never written before,so now the time has come! I am glad you sent me this little request just now,for I am having a pretty much rough time lately,so writing this managed to distract me,someway,even if a little...

I started to write this as soon as I saw your request in my inbox,I didn't want to make a reader of mine wait for so long (because 1) you are sick,and I HATE having a sore throat; and 2) I said 'so long' because I take a lot of time in writing my one shots). I hope you will feel better soon!Just stay at home,rest,sleep,all comfy in your warm bed between fluffly blankets aaanddd...read this ;)

So,starting with this little note: I didn't and I don't actually understand what you truly meant with 'something short' ...a mini one shot with BOTH Ezio and Jacob in it?Two separated imagines,each one with Ezio and Jacob?

I don't know,but I have decided,since I have never done this before,to go for modern heacanons (pretty long ones too,so am I forgiven?). I am so sorry if,maybe,I misunderstood you and if you wanted just a whole imagine,or two different ones. Just let me know once you'll read this?Mh?

Now,let's start,shall we?

~~~~~

|°Ezio°| :

"Dolcezza?Are you alright,amore?"

When you returned from a long,tiring,to say the least endless day at work,the first thing you did was to collapse on the sofa,sighing heavily and deeply as you closed your heavy eyes,your head spinning as you tried to melt in with the softness of the sofa.

As soon as you entered the house,you heard a muffled,sweet sound coming from the kitchen,not far from the living room where you had let yourself go;managing to smile slightly when you recognized the familiar voice of Ezio who,while cooking,was busy humming an Italian song you grew accustomed to know,to learn and to sing with him.

But he stopped humming cheerfully when, hearing the sound of the keys in the lock and the loud noise of the door being locked, he did not see you coming.

Usually,every evening and every time you finished your shift at work,once at home,the first thing you did was to run into the arms of Ezio,who constantly and faithfully waited for you to come back:finding him sitting on the sofor preparing dinner,or doing some chores around the house,knowing that you would come back tired after a long day at work...but always happy to find him here,promptly with open arms and with that bright and joyful smile,to hold you in a strong and long embrace and with sweet and passionate kisses,immediately followed by his genuine questions,purely interested in knowing how your day went.

So the guy became quite concerned when he didn't see you running towards of him as usual.And he worried even more when he didn't hear an answer from you,a thousand thoughts that suddenly flooded his mind.

As he left the kitchen,he quickly leaned on the door,softly called your name in a barely audible whisper.

His eyes grew dark with worry as they wandered around the big living room,finding your form lying,almost helpless,on the couch,not moving even a little.

No,you were not alright.

And Ezio understood that immediately.

Walking quickly in the living room,he sat next to your lying form,his eyebrow furrowed,a worried and thoughtful expression on his face when he heard you mumbling something under your breath,your voice being muffled by the couch.

He stretched out a hand,delicately turning your head to the side,rising up a corner of his mouth and giving you a small and sweet smile as he observed,and studied,your visibly tired and weak face,leaning down and pressing his lips on your forehead as he caressed your warm cheeks,you lazily leaning in his gentle touch.

Let's be honest:when Ezio understood that you were not just tired,but you were terribly sick,with a headache and most likely with a fever too,he started to panick a little.

The poor boy was not used to get sick,he rarely did,thanks to all that sun and warm days he grew up with in his homeland.He was not used,at all.

But he knew his things:many times his little brother,Petruccio,got sick,and many times he watched how their mother looked after him.

So,keeping his worry and panick within and for himself,not wanting to worsen the situation and not wanting to make you worried for him,he started to organize everything.

Preparing and fixing the kingsize bed you shared,delicately picking you up and bringing you in your bedroom,laying you on the bed,helping you changing your clothes,leaving chaste kisses all over your warm skin before covering you with layers of warm blankets,pillows all around you;a bottle of water on the nightstand and a glass there too.

Ezio was so devoted and focused,now even more than he already was:laying beside you on the bed,his chin resting on his palm as he gazed at you,softly talking with you,humming lowly,playing with your hair,reminding you how much he loved you,making you flattered,making you giggle amusedly too with his funny,dirty jokes.

"I can't wait to make you tired for another reason,tesoro"

Of course he was there all the time,rushing and running inside the bedroom from wherever he was whenever he heard you calling him,giving you everything you wanted and needed.

"Salute!" every time he heard you sneezing,shouting that loudly and hearing his voice from downstairs.

And,obviously,being the good chef he was,he didn't stop cooking,preparing you some of your favourite dishes,showing up in the bedroom with plates for lunch and hot drinks during the afternoon.

"Don't be uspetti,eat some spaghetti".

Tons and tons and millions of sweet Italian nicknames.

Him occasionally being dramatic,just to make you laugh,throwing himself on the bed beside you as he started to speak and to gesture in a very theatrical way,pretending to be sick too.

Malicious smirks and sly winks when,once you started to feel a bit better and when you were able to leave the bed,he found you standing near his drawer.

His shiny,clearly excited brown eyes wandering all over your body,that smirk only growing more as he saw you wearing one of his t-shirt,obviously way bigger than you,knowing how much you adored wearing them,feeling his perfume on you.

"Stealing my shirts again,I see" seeing Ezio giving you one last grin before walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"You know I can't control myself when I see you wearing my clothes,vita mia!" he shouted,going downstairs.

You were eternally grateful to have Ezio always at your side,helping you to rest and recover,making you smile when you last feel like laughing,making you feel extremely loved,making you feel special and making you feel better for the way he was looking after you.

"Anything for la luce della mia vita"

~~~~~

|°Jacob°| :

"Tea"

That was the first thing that Jacob said when you told him you were sick...not that he didn't already know,anyways.

The younger twin could seem distracted and nonchalant,but underneath all that thick layer of sarcasm and cheeky smiles,his observer side was hidden.

And Jacob watched you,more than he could ever admit;not that you didn't like this,but quite the opposite:you loved as his hazel eyes always watched and observed you in that warm way,you loved as he remembered the smallest details of you,you loved and admired him with all of yourself,because he was the only person in the world who knew you so well.

And the younger Frye also watched you closely,and more importantly,when one weekend evening,while waiting for you to come back from work,he saw you running towards his car,rushing in,soaking wet,head to toe,trembling violently.

Oh,the infamous downpour of the UK!

Jacob knew well,way too well how lethal the violent,sudden winter downpours were.Who knows for how many times he had or stayed at home when he was a child,whole days spent out in his garden in the rain,serious consequence of him getting a rough cold and a high fever.

As soon as you started having the first symptoms of what was preparing to be a severe cold,Jacob didn't waste any time.

Needless to say that,all your protests and all your futile attempts to convince him that you were fine,were not exactly taken into account by him.

Perhaps you were stubborn,not wanting him to worry any more...

But no one could be more stubborn than Jacob Frye himself was.

"You aren't going to win,love.Not with me"

He preferred you staying in the livingroom more than in the bedroom,saying that it was easier for him and that he didn't had to run up and down when he could have you right there,him at your disposal,and you under his attentive gaze.

A lot of pillows and blankets around and on you as you comfortably laid down on the sofa as you took naps there,or as you watched the TV,lights switched off as he lit up some candles all around the living room,making just a relaxed and soft atmosphere.

A lot of pillows.He nearly built a pillow fort.

The younger twin always was there when you needed or called him,finding him standing in front of you in a blink of an eye.

"Your humble servant is here,Miss,to fulfill his duties" saying that in such a solemn way,bowing down and bringing his hand towards his heart as his eyes shone brightly in hearing you giggle.

"Tea cure and heal everything,remember this,darling" that's what Jacob kept on saying every day,almost every hour with a firm tone,it becoming his loyal and faithful motto.

So you bet that Jacob always made sure you had a cup of hot,warm tea between your hands,warming you inside and out.

"Headache?Tea.Insomnia?Tea.Sorethroat?Tea.Stressed?Tea!"

Tea was the answer,and of course the solution,of and for everything.Everything seemed to revolve around tea for that guy,and he had a couple of reasons to defend his thoughts on the subject.

"Earl Grey tea?Or English Breakfast tea?" the choices were infinite,innumerable,intermimable,for you were pretty sure he had all kinds of tea in some specific and hidden drawers of the kitchen.

And oh God,the tea he prepared was something divine,to say at least.Starting to think that,most likely,he was right with all the long speech about his tea being the cure of everything.

If Jacob was good at something,more than anything else,was preparing tea.

You madly loved to watch him preparing it:you sitting on the counter of the kitchen,a big blanket wrapped around your trembling body as your legs swinged forward and backward;adoring to see how focused and precise he was while making it,adoring to see how his brows furrowed in concentration.

But the thing you adored the most in that precise moments,was when he turned around to face you,giving you a big smile,walking towards you and wrapping his muscular arms around your middle,pulling you closer to himself,really and truly warming you so well,swinging you lazily;closing your eyes,a genuinely happy smile on your lips as you placed your head on his broad chest,his slow heartbeat calming you.

Obviously,his sarcastic and witty will was still there,accompanying him and his words every hour of the day.Cocky answers and sassy phrases filling his cheerful voice,not helping but feeling proud of himself when he managed to gift you of a laughter and of a smile,feeling incredibly glad in seeing you getting better day by day.

But that smug behaviour quickly faded away when Evie started to visit you,checking upon you,making sure that her twin brother was doing a good job.

His sister telling you some little,funny stories about a younger Jacob when he had colds,which,as you knew,was not rare.Making you laugh in a purely amused way in hearing how he behaved...

Not that he changed much anyways.

"He was so,so whiny"

"He WaS,sO,sO WhInY.Liar!"

But he didn't care about his pride and ego being a little hurt by all Evie's stories,as long as he heard your amused laugthers and your joyfull smile he loved to bits.

°*TrAnSlAtIoNs!*°

"Dolcezza"= literally:sweetness.Sweetheart;

"Amore" = love;

"Tesoro" = darling;

"Salute!" = bless you;

"Vita mia" = my life;

"La luce della mia vita" = the light of my life.

~~~~~

I know you asked for something short,and well,as you can clearly see this is everything but short.

Anyway,this apart,I hope you'll like it!Pleaseee let me know if you will,even sending me a private message...or not if you want to keep your persona as an anon!Just let me know,I am still a a bit afraid/insecure of what you wanted.An one-shot with both Ezio and Jacob in it?Two mini separated imagines? Guess we will never know.

Cia.