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hischierjustscored · 1 day ago

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accidentally yours.・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again 🥺 i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end 🧡

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratchin on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.5k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

But you couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, your lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled follwed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. And what you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking. Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off completly.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours. Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"I'm glad you do, we just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head.

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. Getting out his head like Jack said with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget fot the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she said, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him eiter. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to except for him.

A moment, A pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

I wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, the one that always told him you had him figured out when when he told you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm,"Can you at least pretend to fall for it?" just to get stuck in his throat.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back before he knows. He shifted again, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

But Jack was wrong.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he thinks already but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, shifing again.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", ignoring the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was Jack and Luke. Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Right? Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers. He wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And if with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes"

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind. Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something, because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together,

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighinh as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Your record,” she rambled on, not getting the memo, "it was… kinda mysterious.”

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you just leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though, so like I said, all mysterious."

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away. How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here,

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he hesistated, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being a good or person, or the simple fact that he was your emergency contact.

You needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them.

"What do you want me to say? You're the one who put my name down I didn't even knew until now or let you bolt out of here with an concussion like they told me?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

"Well, neither was I, and I'm fine", you muttered fixing you gaze on the sterile floor instead, on anything but the way how he was fixing you, "but let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time. and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved", it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #nhl fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine

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softlypaintedseafoam · 2 days ago

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🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch’s bakery! here’s your order!

requested by: a lovely anon 🍓 -> law + strawberry tart (making up after a fight)

It's 2am when you drag yourself out of the sleeping quarters and Law is already in the kitchen. A small ache of discomfort forms in your chest, the two of you watching one another warily.

Your mouth opens, lips dry and stiff, but not one sound comes. Not a single word. With a grimace, your mouth closes again. It isn't until Law raises it that you notice the coffee pot nestled in his hands, "want a cup?" In spite of the question, his voice is strained and his brown eyes seem black.

It's bait, hesitant as it may be, it's bait.

Knowing this fact, it's difficult to make yourself ignore it and turn around promptly. Maybe it's how his eyebags seem more prominent in the Polar Tang's lighting and how his hair is messy at all sides. Law's isn't one who tosses and turns in his sleep. No, he sleeps much like a log once he's surrendered himself to sleep. A quick breath escapes you before you step forward, gently nudging Law away from the cupboards.

"2am isn't the right time for making coffee," you murmur, reaching for your collection of chamomile tea. "Doctors are the worst patients; you never listen to your own advice."

There's a pout in his voice when he replies, "I'm not sick, so there's no advice I'm breaking right now."

Your response is a subdued snort of disbelief. "Regardless, you won't get to sleep with coffee. We don't even have decaf." Another bold-faced lie that Law doesn't have the desire to press. The crew never buys anything decaffeinated coffee beans; it'd be a nightmare if Bepo and Shachi got their hands on anything but. "So put that thing down. Let the real kitchen master do their thing here."

With your orders, it's as if you're roles have switched and you're the captain of the Heart Pirates. Law steers clear of your way, far enough you won't bump into one another, but close enough. You don't feel the desire to snip at him because of it, not even as you awkwardly wait by the stovetop watching the kettle.

Close enough to feel one another's presence, but not so close you're pressing against one another either. Like there's an invisible line preventing the two of you from fully indulging in one another's touch. It's an uncomfortable feeling that not even a warming pot water can fix.

You're a couple that seldom has arguments. Regardless of how many battles you conquer, however, you'll never get used to this energy. You'll never get used to the feeling of not knowing how to function properly in this odd period after a fight's taken place. You wish your mind would stop going over the 'I could have done this differently's. You didn't do those things differently and no amount of reflection will take you back to that moment in time before things escalated.

A sigh escapes your mouth. There's no time like the present, at least. "Law-"

"I'm sorry," the dark-haired man says before you're able to truly start. You look to your left, eyebrows knit and lips pursed. "You were trying to help. I was being stubborn."

"I shouldn't have called you bullheaded and insensitive," you reply, your voice feeling too loud for the quiet of the kitchen. Even if Law can be stubborn, you know better than anyone Law is sensitive. There's too much care of his in that tall body of his than he knows what to do with. "I just worry sometimes that… you might go overboard. Like when you were dealing with Joker."

Separating himself from the crew to deal with the Warlord on his own was gut-wrenching on its own. Now with Wano on the horizon and an Emperor of the Sea along with it, your anxieties only feel heighten. "I just want you to rely on us more. We all do. No more trying to make yourself the only casualty; just trust that we'll be able to rise to the challenge once it's here. Please."

You're not sure what thoughts are swimming in the doctor's mind, watching carefully how his face contorts with your every word. Law cares. Too much at times. "I'm not asking you to change overnight," you start again, brushing the back of your hand against his. "But some baby steps would be nice, don't you think?"

His smile is tired but it can't hide itself, "baby steps are doable."

#strawberry witch's bakery ー 🍓#one piece x reader #op x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader

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peanutpinet · 2 days ago

Note

Im really loving your sylus x innocent mc stories!! I was wondering what if Innocent Mc is sick or gotten hurt while Sylus is in the middle of a business deal, and when he finds out, he immediately leaves to go take care of mc. 🥺💖

Healer - Sylus x Sick Innocent Fem Reader

A/N: hi anon, thank you for being patient!! I have a lil something for you and for everyone especially with the 3.0 update! I won't spill anything so I hope you all enjoy reading this little fic and thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.

Warnings: threatening, blood

If Sylus could just kill everyone in the room and be done for the day, he would. But unfortunately, there was nothing that was reasonable enough to do so.

Luke and Kieran told him about “highly” businessman that wanted to make a deal regarding the protocores Sylus had. Saying that he’s willing to invest in the business that Sylus had going around if he were to be given a fraction of Sylus’ protocore collection. Of course, Sylus knew what this man specifically wanted. As much as he wants this to end quickly to get to you, Sylus loves to make his victims pretend that they got the upper hand before he turn the tables.

But the more this meeting drags on, Sylus realised something. You didn’t text him at all today. You just told him that you had to go into town for some errands but that was at 8am while it was already 5pm and there had been none information regarding you for the past 9 hours which is unheard of throughout your relationship with Sylus since the beginning.

Though Sylus already sent the twins and mephisto to look for you, he was still restless. Sylus tries to think of all other more “reasonable” scenarios. Maybe you forgot to bring your charger and your phone died in the middle of the day. Maybe you were at a friend’s place and you left your phone on do not disturb or perhaps…

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bad feeling when he heard the twins chatter loudly when he was at the end of the hall in the meeting room.

Without thinking, Sylus bolted out of the meeting room, immediately telling the business partner he’ll rearrange another meeting. When his business partner was threatening him, Sylus didn’t hesitate to point his gun at them. “Accept my offer to reschedule while I’m being sane unless you want me to expose all of your dirty little secrets to the world? I’m sure with how the taxes to everything increasing, it’s going to be hard to get the materials you need without my help”

Luckily, his business partner held both his hands up in defeat, making Sylus smirked. “Wise decision”. Sylus signalled his other men to handle his business partner and his men while he went to see what happened to you.

Sylus knew that no matter what, Luke and Kieran would always bring you back to your shared bedroom. It was practically a sacred place for the both of you. A safe haven, a place where the two of you can be yourself, took care one another, and spend time to be with each other.

Sylus felt the walk down the hall back to his shared bedroom felt further than usual. Halfway through the hallways, Mephisto perched itself on Sylus’ shoulder, cawing at its owner as if it was trying to give Sylus a heads up.

However, before Mephisto could show Sylus anything, the door to his shared room with you was opened and it revealed Luke and Kieran who looked worried despite the masks they wore. “Boss…” the twins let out a soft sigh of relief seeing Sylus came.

“Care to fill me in on what happened?” Sylus questioned his two most trusted men, knowing that these twins cared for you just as much as he did (Sylus definitely still cared for you the most)

“There was blood, boss” Kieran started, and it sent chills throughout Sylus’ body. “Yeah. We didn’t know how it happened. When you told us to find the miss, we didn’t expect there’d be blood” Luke added on

“She also started moving in a dizzy way” Kieran pointed out “She almost fainted when we brought her back. We don’t know how to help stop the bleeding” Luke added on more and by now Sylus couldn’t take it and barged into the room, leaving the twins in the hallway

“Sweetie?!” Sylus called out to you and hearing your groan, he immediately went to the bed, seeing you bundled under layers of bed covers and blanket “It hurts sy…” you whimpered and Sylus didn’t waste time to get into bed and pulled you to him. “Tell me what happened, where does it hurt? How much blood did you lose?”

Sylus gently stroke your head, kissing your forehead and allowing you to snuggled closer to his large body. “J-just, just like every other month”

It was then Sylus realised what actually happened and immediately checked his phone. Noticing the reminder, Sylus let out an annoyed sigh “Those twins…they almost made me pull my heart out”

“Sy…” you mumbled and Sylus snapped back at your weaken self

“I know sweetie. I know. You lay back down yeah? I’ll have the chef immediately cook you some warm soup and I’ll bring painkillers” Sylus gently laid you back, pulling up the layers of blanket to keep you warm, kissing your forehead again

“Are you angry?” you managed to asked despite your weak state

“You had me worried a bit but I can never be angry at you, sweetie. What happened to your phone though?” Sylus asked

“I forgot to charge it last night and was only 15% left when I went out. M’sorry” you mumbled, trying to sleep while Sylus shook his head, caressing your cheek

“I understand sweetie. You were out of it since last night. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’ll help make sure that your phone is always charged but for now, you try to rest a bit more while I get you some warm soup and painkillers along with your favorite sweets then I’ll cuddle you until you’re better”

Sylus placed one last gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room to get the things he said he would get.

“So?! Did you manage to stop the bleeding boss?” Luke asked

“If he looked calmer now, everything must be okay with the miss, right?” Kieran asked as well

Sylus stopped in his tracks before giving the twins a side glare. “You two, my office now. Once I’m back, I’ll make sure the two of you are educated and understand the human anatomy of a woman and her struggles of bleeding every single month”

The twins had never seen their boss looked so serious and menacing towards them which meant they had made a grave mistake. “W-what do you mean boss?” the twins asked as Sylus turned around, his aether core was practically glowing a crimson red colour. “She was on her damn period yet the two of you made it sound like she was bleeding to death! I swear if any of you give me this kind of heart attack again, I’ll have to start cutting your allowances”

The twins rushed to Sylus’ office in fear and started to look up about period, educating themselves everything about it while Sylus took care of you. It’s safe to say that by the next crack of dawn, the twins would understand more about periods and how they could help you if it happened again when Sylus wasn’t around.

A/N: yup, was about periods LMAO

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sai-int · 2 days ago

Note

what do you think 141 men's sun signs would be? (phillip graves and keegan included, if you headcanon them as well)

what do you think?

okay, i don't know HOW you knew i'm an astrology nerd, but i am. i won't go too in depth about their entire charts, but i can definitely figure out some sun signs based on who they are on a surface level!!

⸝⸝ john

a bonafide taurus, through and through (twinsies!!!). dependable, grounded, and a natural leader. he’s EXTREMELY protective over his men, stubborn to a fault, and always (tries to) keep a level head. he enjoys life’s finer things (like a good cigar and whiskey), but he’s also pragmatic and values stability. definitely the type to be patient, but once he’s pushed too far? unmovable.

⸝⸝ simon

a scorpio. intense, mysterious, and deeply private, embodies everything about this water sign. he keeps his emotions locked away, but when he loves, he does it with his whole soul (johnny). he’s the type to hold a grudge for life and operates in extremes, either you have his loyalty, or you don’t. his sense of humor is dark and dry, plus he thrives in the shadows.

⸝⸝ johnny

he's a tough one to call!! but i've settled on saggitarius. he's all firecracker energy, optimistic, adventurous, and constantly trying to beat someone up, shoot someone, or blow something up. he's a fucking dems expert. sagittarius fits him like a glove. PLUS, he’s got that infectious, chaotic charm and can talk his way out of (or into) anything. he doesn’t like being tied down, but when he’s dedicated to something, he gives it his all. the kind of guy who jokes to lighten the mood even in the worst situations, i mean come on. did you see him in las almas?

⸝⸝ kyle

LIBRA LIBRA LIBRA LIBRA. i have a libra rising so i feel so in touch with his sense of justice. for me personally, nothing enrages me more than seeing something just blatantly wrong. i mean think about the first modern warfare. man wanted to get his hands DIRTY for the greater good, or whatever. he felt it necessary in order to balance the scales, and libra's allllll about scales. he's also the mediator of the group, quick-witted, and socially adaptable. he knows how to navigate tense situations and keeps a cool head. libras are also deeply loyal to their people, and gaz would go to hell and back for his team. also he's fucking HOT, libra's ruled by venus.

⸝⸝ graves

a textbook leo and i'm not hearing anything else. charismatic, confident, and so good at making people believe in him. he carries himself like he’s the main character and knows how to command attention. but there’s that classic leo downside too, pride. his downfall is his ego, his need to be in control. he thrives in leadership positions and loves to be admired, but when his authority is challenged? that’s when the claws come out (e. g. "you've got about five seconds before i show you the difference between military, and me.")

⸝⸝ keegan

SUCH a capricorn and you cannot tell me otherwise. hes that no-nonsense, disciplined, get-shit-done type, which screams capricorn. he’s serious, hardworking, and has that quiet intensity that makes people take him seriously. capricorns are known for their sarcasm and dry humor, and keegan definitely embodies that. he’s also fiercely loyal. once you earn his trust, he’ll go to war for you.

⸝⸝ könig

a fun one to pin down. i’m torn between virgo and cancer, but i’m leaning more toward virgo.

he’s meticulous, observant, and highly analytical, classic virgo traits. virgos are often perfectionists, which fits with könig’s overthinking and anxiety. he strategizes everything, calculates risks, and probably notices details no one else does. he’s reserved but has a deeply anxious side, especially in social situations, which aligns with the more introverted nature of virgos. my sister's a virgo and has some ocd problems, but by god, there's a method to her madness and when she gets shit done, it's done well. virgos are also dangerous when they’ve had enough. they hold in a lot, but when they snap? it’s brutal.

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muovipalikka · 3 days ago

Text

Headcanons in fic form #4

Gideon must have been the unluckiest humanoid on Avantris. He had thought he left it all behind him the day he escaped the train, but here he was in his new life getting plagued by old wounds.

"When we get back to camp I can give you some ointment for under the manacles. Ain't nothing that can't fix, or so I've heard." Kremy told Gid trying to sound casual as if he had just heard it somewhere. And hadn’t consulted an apothecary.

That had been the first time Kremy had tried to get his manacles off. It was a couple months back, and he still wouldn't shut up about it.

"Gid, I can see the rashes from way over here!"

Gideon was quiet. He was unsure about letting Kremy’s claws so close. What would Kremy do after seeing his weak spots? Would he abandon Gideon, thinking he wasn’t capable enough for the job or would he use the knowledge as bargaining chips?

"Please just let me put a bit of grease under there. I promise no funny business." As a sign of peace, Kremy even left his cane where he had been sitting opposite Gideon, on the other side of the campfire. Gideon let him get closer, and Kremy approached him as if he were a scared animal. After sitting beside him, Kremy carefully laid a hand on his manacle.

"You already did your time, no reason to stay locked up." In retrospect, Kremy shouldn’t have said that. Gid hadn’t been a prisoner. He hadn’t done anything deserving of time spent on the train. But the words had soothed Gid back then. No matter how incorrect Kremy’s assumptions had been. Or how much he had beat himself up for what he’d implied.

"Now Gid, tell me. Can you get these off?"

Gid nodded slightly and looked at Kremy suspiciously, but he started opening the mechanism. Kremy just sat next to him, waiting patiently. He could see the torn skin, dry, angry, and inflamed. He winced theatrically, hiding the tears and genuine care.

When the manacle was finally off Kremy took his arm and held it like a tiny fragile thing. Gideon didn't know what to do with himself. He just looked at Kremy's golden eyes pleadingly. Hoping that he won't use this to hurt him.

Kremy took out an unopened tube of hand cream still in the box. It was clearly meant for humanoids with higher body temperatures. But Gideon didn’t think to question it. He was trying to pick a favorite between the cool cream appeasing his skin and Kremy's hands. Kremy was careful of his claws. Not letting them hurt Gideon’s fragile skin.

Gideon was glad he had trusted Kremy. After a few weeks, they didn’ hurt no more. Kremy even put some fabric between the skin and the manacles to lessen the irritation.

Kremy knew Gid was a stubborn bastard, but he also knew that the genasi undervalued himself. And this was undoubtedly the latter. Gid would never just ask for the ointment. He would even try to hide the skin inflaming and getting worse. Until Kremy ultimately caught him again. Which is why they had a little ritual. Each time Gid woke him for his watch Kremy would sit with him by the campfire. Early on he had made up excuses “Gid I’m so tired. You need to sit with me so I can wake up properly!” “I need you to light my cigarette Gid.” Little excuses to make way for “Well, since we now have a little time. I can check your wrists now,”

Now they just quietly sneak back to the campfire. Kremy would take care of him. Soothe his aches and hold him gently without a need for excuses. And Gideon knew he was the luckiest humanoid in all of Avantris.

Headcanons in fic form #1 #2 #3

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #gideon coal #kremy lecroux #ouaw #coalecroux #kremy x gideon #loa #muovipalikan ramblings

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everestgale · 19 hours ago

Text

"Drag me down into the deep end, leave me out to die"

youtube

[Drawing is very much inspired by this song, as you can see by the pose, and the quote is from it, too!]

This is my fan princess The Butterfly and her counterpart Voice of the Arrogant. I was going to share more of them once I actually finished writing their Chapter... but it's gonna be a while before then. So have this as a sort of preview :]

Chapter II: The Butterfly

The Butterfly is a no-knife counterpart to The Nightmare, where instead of choosing to lock her in the basement because you don't trust her or the Narrator, you do that because, instead, you believe that she is pathetic and weak and cannot possibly end the world. You can't possibly drench your hands in her blood, that would be beneath you! And so you leave her to languish alone in the basement...

...but you still watch over the basement door; light threads of suspicion seeping through. You doze off. And when you wake up, she somehow escapes her chains and the basement. She stands over you, blade in hand, raised directly over your chest. The cabin won't let her leave. Maybe if she kills you... maybe she will be free.

She kills you. Everything goes dark, and you die. And when you meet her again, she turns into someone fragile, someone who can be ruined at the lightest touch... when you meet her again...

"Please just kill me," she says.

She had tried to escape so desperately, but nothing she did seemed to work. She can't handle the hurt of trying to escape anymore, so now she sits in the basement and patiently awaits her death.

[The current draft of Chapter I that leads into The Butterfly is under the cut]

Full disclosure: I am not a writer by any means, so some lines from Hero/Narrator will likely be either awkward or out of character. Also, about half of the lines are just directly copied and slightly edited from the pre-Nightmare Chapter I. You've been warned :]

Chapter I: The Hero and the Princess

You can't seriously think she is going to end the world, right? I am not killing her. She is not worth the effort. [Leave her in the basement.]

Voice of the Hero

At least we aren’t going to kill her… maybe we could keep an eye on her instead?

The Narrator

Are you seriously just going to wash your hands of this? No one wins here if you do.

"Wait, where are you going? You can't just leave me here! NO!"

The Narrator

You turn your back to the Princess and make your way back to the stairs.

The Narrator

She rushes out to follow you, but the chain on her wrist keeps her just out of her reach.

“You'll… regret it. I swear you’ll regret it! I'll make you pay. You can't just leave me here… please...”

The Narrator

Her voice peters out as she gives the chain another tug.

Voice of the Hero

This feels... awful. Are you sure we shouldn’t… help her?

The Narrator

Help her? Didn't you hear her threaten you just now? No, we can’t have either of your nonsense. You were sent here to slay her. You can still grab the blade and get back down here…

(Explore) See? She can't even get out of these chains. How is she supposed to end the world? She couldn't even hurt a butterfly.

No, we are not doing either. She isn’t worth it.

Oh that's a relief! I was afraid I'd already committed to not slaying her.

…Maybe we should help her. [Turn back towards her.]

The Narrator

Just because she's in chains now, doesn't mean she will be forever. Eventually, she will escape and end the world.

No, we are not doing either. She isn’t worth it.

Oh that's a relief! I was afraid I'd already committed to not slaying her.

…Maybe we should help her. [Turn back towards her.]

The Narrator

You'll be the death of all of us, but fine. We'll do it your way.

The Narrator

You close the cabin door, locking it behind you.

Voice of the Hero

Okay. We can make this work.

The Narrator

You settle in against the far wall to watch the basement door.

The Narrator

It isn't long before you start to drift off, your eyelids heavy with fatigue. But sleep doesn't come. Instead, your rest is broken by a piercing, wailing voice calling out to you from the other side of the door.

“I know you’re there. Please let me out. I beg you. PLEASE.”

Voice of the Hero

That’s her… But how did she get out of her chains? Did she slip out of them?

The Narrator

I warned you about this, didn’t I? But of course, you didn’t listen.

Voice of the Hero

I feel so bad... Maybe we can just ignore her. Maybe the banging and wailing will stop if you just don't pay attention to it.

The Narrator

You put the Princess' cries out of your mind as best as you can and huddle up against the wall.

(Fade to black, background change)

The Narrator

You jolt awake in the middle of the night. The ruckus has stopped, and the door to the basement is ajar, its lock broken and the pristine blade is missing from the table.

Voice of the Hero

Where is she?

“...I hope this works. Please let it work.”

Voice of the Hero

…What does that mean?

The Narrator

Sigh. I can’t believe you let this happen.

The Narrator

The Princess kneels next to you on the cabin floor, the blade gleaming in her trembling hands right above your chest. She stares at you as her eyes twitch, and small tear droplets fall on your face.

The Narrator

Before you can react, she plunges it into your chest, ripping through your muscles and organs. As the steel tears through your flesh, you feel agonizing pain. But you aren’t dead yet.

“Damn it. DAMN IT.”

The Narrator

She raises the blade again, before repeatedly sinking it into your chest. It is torture. Every stab feels like it’s burning through your body. As she lifts the blade once more, she lets out a piercing, desperate cry.

“I JUST WANT TO LEAVE. LET ME OUT. PLEASE.”

The Narrator

The Princess gives you one final stab in the heart, as your lungs fill with blood. Her voice, once loud and desperate, peters out until it's barely a whisper.

“...I hope I can leave now. Please let me leave now.”

Voice of the Hero

Somehow being stabbed repeatedly isn’t even the worst part of this…

The Narrator

Are you serious right now? You are bleeding out on the cabin floor right now, and you say this isn’t the worst of it?

The Narrator

This was hopeless, wasn’t it? You two are absolutely delusional. I hope you are happy with your choices.

The Narrator

Everything goes dark, and you die.

#slay the princess #art #fanart #stp #stp fanart #stp writing #stp fan princess #stp butterfly #stp fan voice #stp arrogant #Chapter II: The Butterfly #i've had this concept for Butterfly princess since January of last year... glad to finally have *something* in terms of actual writing :]#even if it's not much! still was a lot of fun to put it together :]

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decayed-cartilage · 2 days ago

Text

The Intern

Hannibal Lecter x AFAB! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings for chapter: power dynamic? Mentions of erection.. creepy! Hannibal, Morally wrong! Hannibal

Synopsis: Y/N is on the brink of graduation, with just one requirement left—an internship. Somehow, she finds herself under the esteemed Dr. Hannibal Lecter, a man as brilliant as he is unreadable. Cold, precise, and impossible to rattle, he keeps his thoughts well-guarded. But Y/N can’t help her curiosity—she wants to understand him, to get beneath the surface. And whether he intends to or not, bit by bit, he lets something slip. Something darker. Something she might not be ready to see.

After what felt like endless hours of writing and submitting, writing and submitting, I finally received an email back from one of the many psychiatrists I’d been desperately trying to reach for my mandatory internship—Dr.Lecter, A prestigious man with many colorful reviews, which had drawn me to contact him.

From: H***********@gmail.com

To: Y/[email protected]

Subject: Internship for Johns Hopkins University

Dear Y/N,

I’ve had the pleasure of reviewing your application and personal portfolio, and I must say—your dedication and talent are impossible to overlook. It’s clear you take your work seriously, and intelligence like yours is always refreshing to encounter. I have no doubt that you would be the perfect young lady for me to mentor

do get in touch at your earliest convenience, and please, use my personal number (***) ***-****

Best,

Doctor Lecter

My heart pounded out of my chest, my eyes scanning his words again and again as warmth flooded my face. Oh god—had I really sent all that? How had I forgotten? Yes—I had sent all of it, in a tired, near-lucid state, exhausted from working so hard. My words had grown almost desperate by the last emails, pleading for validation.

But really? My whole life story? A deep dive into why I chose psychiatry—endless run-ons about trauma and my relentless hope for a better world?

And—oh no—the pictures. Me in scrubs, grinning way too hard, double thumbs-up in front of a cadaver during one of my early tech programs. Or me, beaming like an overexcited tourist beside historical documents, looking ridiculously proud.

Yet, all of that faded as my eyes caught on one thing—his phone number.

I screamed like a teenage girl, shooting up from my seat as I sprinted to grab my phone, my hands shaking as I typed in his number—only to pause.

What do I even say?!

I groaned, throwing myself back onto my bed.

Third person (Hannibal's) P.O.V

Hannibal had been waiting. Days bled into each other, an endless cycle of monotony—listening to insipid patients whine about their problems, assisting in crime cases that barely challenged him, returning home to indulge in his more refined appetites. Even killing had lost its thrill. Nothing ever truly stirred him.

Until your email.

God, the desperation dripped from every word, a quiet, pleading sort of need that sent a slow, curling heat through him. You had laid yourself bare, unaware of what exactly you had just invited into your life. Your tragic little story, the way you carried yourself—so unassuming, so small. So easy.

Just picturing you in his office, lingering in his space, speaking to him with those wide, trusting eyes—his jaw locked, his fingers twitching with restraint.

Staring at the pictures you had attached, Hannibal felt his length twitch, his breath slowing as his free hand drifted—almost absentmindedly—palming himself through the fine fabric of his dress pants. God.

The way your lips curled, the way your smile beamed so effortlessly, so full of warmth—it was intoxicating. A stark contrast to the cold, calculated existence he thrived in. You radiated light, soft and unguarded, utterly unaware of the predator fixated on you.

His throat tightened.

Such an innocent little thing, standing there in your scrubs, so proud, so eager. So trusting. You belonged to a world of laughter and hope, while he—he was carved from shadow and silence, his smile only ever genuine when he was peeling flesh from bone.

And yet, here he was, jaw clenched, breath heavy, wanting.

Needing.

He exhaled sharply, fingers pressing harder against the growing strain beneath his waistband.

Oh, sweet girl… you have no idea what you’ve done.

Ding!

The sharp chime shattered the heavy silence, jolting him from his trance. His phone clattered against the desk, but his eyes were already locked onto the screen. He knew who it was. Of course, he did.

Hannibal was a meticulous man. A careful man. And yet, you had made it so easy for him. Every little detail of your life, carelessly scattered across the internet—your school, your favorite cafés, even the places you liked to study. He knew where you had been before you even told him. He had all of you at his fingertips.

And now, your number. Displayed so innocently on his screen.

"Hello Doctor Lecter! This is Y/n :),I got your acceptance email-"

The preview cut off, but he didn’t need to see the rest to know exactly how you would sound—bubbly, eager, grateful. A stark contrast to the dark amusement curling in his chest.

Still, he unlocked the phone, fingers rolling over the screen, expression unreadable as he took in the rest of your message.

and I just can’t express how grateful I am you responded! It’s even better since I’m attending the same school you did! I would love to set up a time for us to chat in person—I hope I’m not being too informal—if I am, please tell me! Thank you so much for your time!

Such sweetness. Such hope. He could practically hear the nervous excitement laced in your words, see the way your hands might have trembled as you typed, wondering if you were saying too much, if you sounded proper enough for him.

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening, his fingers pressing into the screen just a little harder than necessary.

You had no idea what you had just invited into your world.

He began typing.

I’m pleased to hear from you so soon. Why don’t we meet somewhere comfortable? Perhaps a coffee shop—there’s a lovely one, [your favorite coffee shop], that I hear is quite popular. It seems like the perfect setting for our first conversation. Let me know when you’re available, and I’ll gladly adjust my schedule.

And please, don’t worry about being too informal. I much prefer sincerity. I look forward to meeting you, properly.

With that, he sent the message, his thumb hovering over the screen for just a second longer than necessary before finally setting the phone down. It slid across his desk with a soft thud, the only sound in the stillness of his office.

Hannibal exhaled slowly, a drawn-out sigh that did little to temper the hunger curling inside him.

You had been on his mind long before your message arrived, but now? Now, you were real. Tangible. Just a text away.

And soon, within reach.

Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted his cuffs with careful precision, though it did little to distract from the heat simmering beneath his skin. His jaw tightened. He needed a walk. Fresh air. A moment to compose himself before his thoughts spiraled into something indulgent.

His lips curled slightly as he stepped away from his desk, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

You had no idea what you had just done.

But you would.

YOUR POV

Ding!

I was too nervous to look at his message right away. My fingers hovered over my phone, heart hammering so loudly it drowned out all rational thought. When I finally mustered the courage to open it, my face went hot instantly.

He mentioned my favorite café.

Had he been there before? Was he that local? Had I somehow missed him in the crowd? My stomach twisted at the thought—equal parts exhilaration and unease. It wasn’t strange for someone to know about it; it was a well-loved spot, after all. But the way he said it, so casually yet deliberately, made my skin prickle.

I let out a small, breathless giggle, my lips pressing together as I read over his words again. I needed to calm down. Breathe, Y/N. Act normal. But I wasn’t normal. Not right now. I was too warm, too jittery, too caught up in the weight of his attention.

A walk. I needed a walk.

Without responding, I shoved my phone into my pocket and grabbed my jacket off the hook by the door. My scarf—a soft, muted rainbow of colors—was next, the familiar knit worn and comforting against my fingers.

"I know it gets cold out there Y/nn! You're taking this scarf with you- it's my dying wish!"

I could still hear my mother’s voice, warm with fond exasperation, as she fussed over me before I left for college. The memory made me smile.

I wrapped the scarf snugly around my neck, letting the soft wool shield me from the crisp autumn air seeping in through the doorframe. My outfit was hardly practical for the weather, but I had always dressed like this—formally, neatly, a habit ingrained into me since childhood. A plaid skirt, fitted but flaring just above my knees, swayed as I moved. Tights helped ward off the chill, but only just. My dark grey moccasins were polished and proper, and beneath my heavy coat, I wore a delicate white button-up. The heart embroidery around the collar was my mother’s handiwork—stitched with care, meant to remind me of home.

Despite the structured appearance, I was anything but composed. Anyone who truly knew me would recognize the contrast between my polished exterior and the nervous, sweet-natured girl underneath.

I stepped outside into the cold, the late autumn air nipping at my nose and cheeks, turning them pink within seconds. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves tumbling along the pavement.

The walk stretched on longer than I had planned. What started as a way to clear my head turned into an aimless journey, my feet carrying me farther and farther from my starting point. By the time I thought to check the time, my phone screen flashed 4:07 PM.

Four hours. Four hours.

I had wandered nearly halfway across the city, lost in my thoughts, replaying that message over and over in my head like a song I couldn’t turn off. The crisp autumn air had settled deep in my bones, my fingers stiff despite being tucked into my coat pockets. My legs ached, but I wasn’t ready to go home just yet.

That was when I noticed it—the quiet hum of a near-empty park, tucked away from the city’s usual noise. Golden leaves fluttered from the branches above, painting the pavement in warm hues. It was peaceful here, the kind of place where no one would bother me, where I could sit for just a moment and-

That was when I noticed him.

A figure moving toward me, his steps slow, measured, deliberate.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. Just another passerby enjoying the evening air, someone else drawn to the quiet solitude of the park. But something about the way he walked made my breath catch—a smooth, unhurried grace, like a man who never rushed for anything.

My brows furrowed as I squinted. Damn it, I forgot my glasses.

I could make out the tall, well-built frame beneath a long, dark coat, the way his shoulders sat perfectly squared, the way his hands—gloved—rested easily at his sides, as if he carried nothing but time and patience.

A strange feeling stirred in my chest, a quiet knowing before my brain even caught up.

Then, as he stepped into the golden glow of the late afternoon sun, everything clicked into place.

The sharp, unmistakable features. The neatly combed dark hair. The slight tilt of his head, like he had already recognized me long before I had recognized him.

Dr. Lecter.

Oh God.

My stomach flipped so violently I thought I might actually double over. What was he doing here? Had he seen me before I saw him? Was he here because of me, or was this just some freakishly timed coincidence?

My brain scrambled for an appropriate reaction—anything other than standing there like an idiot, heart hammering in my throat.

My cheeks burned before I could stop them, heat creeping up my neck, traitorous and undeniable. I must look ridiculous right now—flushed, wide-eyed, completely caught off guard.

But there was no turning back. He was already close enough that ignoring him would be rude. Unprofessional.

So, I did the only thing I could think of.

I forced my stiff fingers to move, lifting a hand in a small, hesitant wave.

And then—I smiled. Nervous, flustered, but hopefully not as painfully obvious as I felt.

"H-Hi, Doctor!" I blurted out, my voice coming out softer than I intended, almost breathless.

I forced a smile, though I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. My big, wide eyes locked onto him, searching his face for any sign of reaction.

A second passed.

Then another.

My stomach twisted, dread creeping in. Did I mess up? Did I sound stupid? The silence stretched just long enough to make my pulse stutter.

"I-It’s Y/N—" I started, my voice unsteady, but before I could finish, he cut me off.

"I know it’s you, sweetheart."

My breath hitched.

His voice was smooth, effortlessly composed, dripping with confidence in a way that made my skin tingle. He looked down at me with an amused sort of curiosity, his gaze steady, unwavering—like he was taking his time, drinking in every little reaction, every tiny shift in my expression.

"How funny is it," he continued, his lips curving slightly, "that I should run into you here—right after we had just spoken?"

I swallowed hard. My stomach flipped again, my nerves unraveling by the second.

He was so calm. So composed. And here I was, standing there like a nervous wreck, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Whatever little confidence I had managed to build up crumbled beneath the weight of his presence. My body felt too warm despite the crisp autumn air, and I could hear the rush of my own pulse in my ears. Still, I forced myself to nod, hoping it looked casual—hoping he couldn’t tell just how flustered I was.

"It’s t-totally crazy!" I rushed out, my voice a little too high, a little too eager. I winced at myself, clearing my throat and trying again, desperate to sound normal. "I-I mean, I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was going. I must’ve wandered too far—I couldn’t even tell you where I am right now if I’m being honest."

I let out a nervous laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, willing my hands to stop fidgeting. My cheeks burned, and I prayed it looked like nothing more than the bite of the cold air rather than the sheer excitement buzzing beneath my skin.

I had imagined meeting him—dreamed of it even. But now that he was standing in front of me, watching me with that unreadable gaze, I felt like my legs might give out beneath me.

"I'm really sorry you had to meet me like this," I blurted, my voice smaller than I intended. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my jacket sleeves, twisting the fabric as I dared to glance up at him. His eyes—sharp, knowing—made my stomach flip. God, why did he have to look at me like that?

"I promise I would have been more presentable— and- l-less shocked—I'm very sorry," I squeaked, heat rushing to my face as I dropped my gaze again, mortified by how utterly flustered I was.

A deep hum left him, measured and deliberate. "There is no need for an apology, hon," Hannibal said smoothly, the richness of his voice wrapping around me like silk. "You present yourself in a manner most... revealing."

He tilted his head, gaze unwavering, studying me as though he were unraveling something unseen. "There is an honesty in moments like these. A rare and unguarded glimpse into one's truest nature."

My breath caught in my throat. What—what did he mean by that?

I tried to piece it together, but the warmth in his eyes, the weight of his words, left me grasping at nothing.

I nodded at his words, dumbly, still trying to process the way he spoke, the way his voice felt like silk wrapping around my thoughts. But then, like a slap to the face, realization struck.

Oh no.

He definitely saw that I had read his message but never responded.

My stomach twisted as I stepped closer, suddenly feeling the need to explain myself, to fix whatever impression that might’ve given. "I—I meant to text back!" The words left me in a rush, my hands gripping the hem of my sleeves anxiously. "I just got too excited—" I stopped abruptly, my breath catching as my face burned. Too excited? Oh god. That sounded ridiculous. Desperate.

"I mean—" I scrambled to recover, shaking my head quickly. "Not excited—well, I mean, yes, excited, but not in a weird way! Just… I thought I should wait until I wasn’t so—so—" I let out a nervous laugh, utterly failing to dig myself out of the hole I was sinking into.

Hannibal tilted his head ever so slightly, watching me with that same unreadable expression, his lips curving just enough to make my stomach twist even further.

"There’s no need to fluster yourself on my account," he said, his voice smooth, deliberate. "Some things are best expressed in their rawest form, unfiltered… unguarded."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing, trying to decipher his words. Was he talking about my message—or something else entirely?"I—I completely agree!" I rushed out, still trying to steady myself, my heart hammering against my ribs. "But—still—I mean, we should set up a time. Whenever you’d like, of course."

I offered a small, nervous smile, shifting slightly on my feet, hoping I sounded even the slightest bit composed.

Third person (Hannibal's) pov

Hannibal watched you with quiet amusement, his sharp eyes taking in every flustered movement, every nervous breath. You were trying so hard to sound composed, but the way your words tumbled out—rushed, uncertain—betrayed you.

"I—I completely agree!" you blurted, your voice carrying that same delightful eagerness from your emails. "But—still—I mean, we should set up a time. Whenever you’d like, of course."

You shifted on your feet, offering a small, nervous smile, as if willing yourself to appear more put together. How endearing. You had no idea how much you were giving away. Hannibal let the moment stretch just a second longer than necessary, letting you stew in the weight of his gaze before finally offering a slow, knowing smile.

"How about now, then?" Hannibal’s voice was smooth, effortlessly calm. "It seems the only thing occupying you at this moment is our conversation. I don’t mind in the slightest."

He watched as you blinked, clearly caught off guard. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your lips parting slightly as if scrambling for a response. You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t considered that he might take control of the moment so easily, turning your nervous rambling into something entirely inescapable.

Of course, he knew you wouldn’t say no. You had been so eager, so desperate for this opportunity, your emails practically dripping with the need to prove yourself. The way you sought validation was almost endearing—so open, so unaware of just how much you had already given away.

And now, standing before him, you couldn’t hide it. The excitement in your eyes, the nervous energy humming beneath your skin. You were trying so hard to play it cool, but he could see it all—the way your breath hitched, the way you hesitated for just a second too long.

He let the silence stretch, just enough to make you squirm, his face giving no hints to how he felt.

"Oh! Of course! Now is perfect!" she blurts out, nodding far too quickly, her voice pitching higher than she probably intended. She grips the hem of her coat, wringing the fabric between her fingers, as if the motion might tether her to reality—might stop her from unraveling beneath her own nervous energy.

How utterly transparent.

I say nothing for a moment, only watching, taking in the way she fidgets, the way her pulse flutters just beneath the delicate skin of her throat. She is trying so very hard to maintain composure, but she is failing spectacularly.

She doesn’t realize how much she gives away. How easily every flicker of emotion plays across her face. It is almost endearing—the way she fights against her excitement, attempting to suppress it, as if I cannot already see through her.

And yet, there is something else beneath the surface. Something softer, untouched by the weight of the world’s cruelty. A rare thing, fragile and sweet.

My lips curl slightly.

She swallows hard, her breath quickening, the silence stretching just long enough for uncertainty to creep in. I can almost feel the way her mind races, second-guessing herself, wondering if she has said too much or too little.

Finally, I incline my head in a slow, deliberate motion.

"Perfect," I murmur, watching as her breath hitched

A/N oh my god I think is the first fanfic I've written since I was like ten, so if you like it tell me :) and if you don't, also tell me. I hope everyone is doing well and I hope to write more, or leave suggestions! Big kisses everyone :3

#Spotify #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #x reader #dark fic #slashers #slasher #slasher x reader #slowburn #dead dove do not eat

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alexthebordercollie · 17 hours ago

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Lazy Monday Morning

This is a Good Ending D and H fic. Some lovely HusbanDs fluff.

Domesticated Ford belongs to @jellyskink

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There it was again. Another string of sharp, blaring, beeps. D had to get the most obnoxious alarm clock he could find. He was a very heavy sleeper and the bed was cripplingly comfortable. Warm, soft, always filled with good company. D wasn't sure anyone would ever understand just how intensely he appreciated a good bed.

Except for one man possibly.

"Five more minutes…" A husky voice grumbled. Spindly arms coiled around D's waist. A familiar face pressed into his breast.

"I already hit snooze twice," D groaned. He shut off the alarm and reach up to rub at his identical face.

"Hit it again," the other voice whined.

"I can't H, I have work," D whined playfully back. He cracked a bleary eye open to look down at the man who'd coiled around him like some beautiful, invasive, ivy.

H had tucked himself into the crook of D's shoulder. His face buried in his chest. D combed his fingers affectionately through his partner's thinning grey hair. He took great care to help him keep it strong and healthy. H felt so delicate in D's arms now, it was misleading though. He knew full well the strength of will still contained in that frail frame. He knew he was about to have to wrestle with that will if he ever hoped to escape.

"I'm going to be late for class," D warned gently.

H groaned and snuggled into him further. Worming his face into D's belly and tickling him with his fussing. "No school today, you're in charge, just take the day off."

D couldn't help but laugh. Shaking up his dearest companion with his rumbling. "And when has that reasoning ever worked on you?!" he huffed between hearty cackles.

H lifted his head to narrow his one eye back at D with an irritable pout. Puffing up his cheeks indignantly. "If I don't get to work today you shouldn't either."

D sat up in bed and leaned forward to kiss his friend's forehead. Holding his cheek in his hand. "I'm not the one on bedrest today," he chided softly.

H only protested further and flopped dead weight across D's lap. "Betrayal!" he lamented melodramatically. "Where's the solidarity?!"

D chuckled and sighed. Petting H sympathetically before slowly wriggling out from under him to the edge of the bed. He reached a hand out to turn on the lamp on the head board and in his fumbling knocked both their glasses down into the crack between the mattress and the frame.

"Oh," D exclaimed. Oh well, he'd get them in a minute.

H rolled onto his back and draped an arm over his eyes. Further tangling himself in the blankets and he draped sideways over the edge of the bed.

"My precious kitten, abandoning me in my time of need-"

"You'll be fine," D replied patiently as he pulled himself up to his feet. Grunting from the ache in his joints. He'd gotten better with a good deal of effort and H's help, but the joint pain was still a daily struggle. Stanley's joints bothered him too, though not near as bad. That was an odd kind of reassurance. Knowing part of it was just the natural process of getting old took some of the shame off the pain.

D shed his pajamas onto the floor. He should probably have made an effort to get them to the hamper, but that was all the way on the other side of the room. Well, the other end of the bed. Ok, three feet away. But he was tired and it was so early, and he was in a bit of a hurry. He could pick up the laundry later. He'd probably remember. Ok so Jean-Paul would get it, but that was almost as good.

H rolled back onto his belly and hung over the edge of the bed as he watched D pull on his slacks. D couldn't help looking back at him, feeling the man's eye combing over his body.

D cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" he teased.

"Just enjoying the view." H hummed.

D couldn't help but laugh again as he fastened his belt. "Whatever you say. I've learned not to trust your tastes."

"Oh like you would know good taste," H dismissed. Waving off his comment. He reached past D and pulled open one of the dresser drawers to tug out a light purple sweater off the top of the stack.

"Chilly?" D asked. H had problems with his blood pressure. D had learned to look out for any sign of chill as it could indicate a crash.

"The bed get's cold without you," H reasoned as he lazily hoisted himself up just enough to pull the turtleneck over his pajamas.

D smiled again. "So you're stealing one of my sweaters? You have your own clothes in the bottom drawer you know."

"I know," H conceded easily. Flopping back down against the pillows and pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. "But your sweaters are warmer. It's a proven fact," he explained.

D pulled out a pair of socks and sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on. "Is that so? How intriguing. I'd love to see the data on it. I'm sure you've done quite vigorous research into the matter."

H grinned, deeply pleased with D's teasing. D liked to think he'd gotten good at it. He'd lost the ability for so long, but good banter made his companion smile and that was enough incentive to move mountains. H had such a warm wonderful smile.

H rolled over onto his side to look at D, bundled up in the blankets. D's sweater hung on his lean frame and formed little ripples in the fabric. "I wouldn't need your anomalous sweaters if you'd just stay and waste the day away in bed with me."

D pulled one leg over his knee and leaned back to prop himself up on his arm. "See, I could do that, but I did promise the children we'd be playing with explosives in class today. They've been really looking forward to it," it was a fun science experiment, safer than it sounded. "I could take the day off, but then you'd have to explain to your daughter why the project she and her friends have been eagerly awaiting had to be postponed."

H narrowed his brow at D. "Using my own spawn against me, you're diabolical," he taunted, though even he couldn't keep a straight face.

D laughed and leaned in to reach past him. Feeling around between the mattress and the bedframe. "Gee, I wonder where I learned that," he taunted back.

"Touché mon amour~" H conceded affectionately. He pulled D in when he looked past him, into the crack that had stolen their glasses, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

D's fingers finally found the glasses. He fished them out and placed a pair on H's face. Didn't really matter which one, the style and prescription were the same.

H smiled wider as D's face came into sharper focus. D put his own glasses on to drink in that smile in high definition. The way H looked at him… The love in this man's eye never ceased to amaze.

"You're very sweet," D praised.

"Only you think that Kitten," H chuckled.

D held the back of H's head and kissed his forehead. "Well, just this once, I feel confident in saying I know best," he asserted.

H sighed and pressed his cheek into D's arm.

"I have to go now," D reminded him.

H groaned irritably and fell back into the pillows. "Uhg, you're still on that?"

"Yes!" D laughed. "I still have work."

D reached into his drawers for a shirt and H peered back at him out of the corner of his eye. "Undershirt first," H hen pecked.

"Right, right, I've got it," D huffed, returning to his undergarment drawer for a white t-shirt. "I was getting to it." He wasn't, he would have forgotten had H not reminded him.

H hummed smugly to himself and snuggled deeper into the bedding. "Oh what ever would you do without me?"

D rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Oh yes, what ever would I do without you."

#ooc:#gravity falls au #hand of god #domesticated ford #good ending #HD #HusbanDs #gay asexual husbands who are the same guy #jellyskink #good ending d #good ending h

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cherry-romper · 3 days ago

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Hi! Hope you have a nice day. Can I request Mk man with a fem/reader who have a hard time being vulnerable both physically and emotionally especially sexually due of the past traumas and mk man helps them by taking things slower for sake of the reader comfort. Thanks in advance (o^^o)

Comfort Headcannons

+ Lui Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas Vrbada, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Syzoth, Shang Tsung.

Warnings; TW: the trauma is not mentioned by name but sexual assault is alluded to.

Contains; GN!reader, Comfort, Fluff.

Liu Kang;

The most understanding and patient person to ever exist.

Will absolutely never pressure you into anything and will reassure you when you ask or when he feels like you need it.

Will always ask if what he’s doing is okay, if you’re comfortable and if you are sure.

You have a wordless understanding, if you’re not feeling it or if you need some time alone, you don’t really have to say anything, he always knows and gives you the space you need.

Kung Lao;

He’s a monk, he’s not big into sexual intimacy anyways. Obviously he’d love to, but it's forbidden, so he’s also fine with just the basics.

Honestly, he thinks you being with him is like a reward. So, he doesn’t feel the need to push things because you’re already with THE Kung Lao. Do you need more than that?

Can be difficult at time to communicate with. Sometimes he only hears the sound of his own heart beating and he can’t see past it but when it comes to really serious conversations his attention is all yours.

He’s no stranger to trauma, he’s understanding in his own way.

Raiden;

Incredibly patient, he doesn’t push it at all. You only told him once that you wanted to take things slow because of a dark past and he understood immediately.

Feels a lot of anger for the people who hurt you, though he won’t seek revenge, he thinks about it. He hates seeing you flinch away from intimacy.

You can talk freely to him about everything. If you need to vent or a shoulder to cry on or even if you need space for prolonged periods of time, he won’t question it.

Checks up on you throughout the day, when he can. Will being you things too, to make sure you’ve eaten and drank enough.

Bi-han;

Took some time coming to terms with the fact that you just don’t want to do certain things.

Initially, he didn’t understand. He’s mostly just angry that someone hurt you so bad that you can’t trust him, but he also knows what it’s like having to hide things, so he came around.

Honestly, he doesn’t care about sex. He care more about loyalty and power. So, sex isn’t something on his mind. Prefers pure devotion to him and his cause.

Doesn’t bring the subject up again. It’s like you never even mentioned it. He just avoids it the best he can.

Kuai Liang;

Patient and understanding, but pushes you to get professional help.

He prefers having someone who can calm his fire AND match it. A perfect balance. For you to not be able to achieve your full potential because of past events, it makes him upset.

Encourages you to push your comfort zones and face your fears, but will never EVER force you. If you’re uncomfortable and feel overwhelmed or afraid, he’ll stop everything and comfort you.

Gives the best hugs and pep talks, but is also amazing at giving you your space.

Tomas Vrbada;

Was so upset when you told him about your past. He hates that people are capable of such things. Comforted you immediately and set the ground rules there and then.

Always asks if you’re okay, if you need help, if you need space, if there’s anything he can do to make you feel better.

Doesn’t baby you, but worries about you a lot. If you’re training, he’ll be watching you like a hawk, not even critiquing you but watching for any signs that you might want to stop, or if you’re uncomfortable with the people around you.

Same goes for when it’s just the two of you. He’s patient and not going anywhere. He’s fine if you have moments of vulnerability, and deals with them as best he can.

Johnny Cage;

Takes time to adjust. He forgets himself sometimes. Gets so upset if you flinch away from him and apologies like his life depends on it.

He loves being around you, so when you ask for your own space he can find it hard because you’re the only thing on his mind. He can help think about how hard of a time you’re having and wants to help take that away. Hates that he can't help.

Has some trouble when it comes to communicating. He never means to make you feel unheard or inadequate, but seems to do it without noticing. He’ll realise after and apologies again.

You both work out a good middle ground, and find a way to make it work without anyone feeling unsatisfied or unhappy.

Kenshi Takahashi;

Patient but needs to know the details of what he can and can’t do immediately.

The last thing he wants to do is make you feel bad, so the quicker he knows the details, the better he’ll be able to treat you.

Takes everything into consideration, and because of his heightened senses, you don’t really need to tell him when you’re not okay, he already knows.

The whole thing is really easy, and you never need to explain yourself, he just accepts it and helps you the best he can.

Syzoth;

He knows what it’s like having things taken from him. You don’t need to explain yourself, he knows.

Is often away on business but writes to you as often as he can, he’ll send you things he think will help cope with the trauma.

Is so sweet with intimacy and take it at whatever pace you set, he’s also fine with not at all.

He communicates so well and is also an incredible listener, he’ll always be there for you. Even if he’s on official duty, he’ll take a portal to you if you ask him to, no questions asked.

Shang Tsung;

Is shocked to learn about your past and isn’t sure how to react.

He’s not going to make you uncomfortable or belittle you, but he takes time coming to terms with it.

Tries his best with being respectful with your wishes, and communicates his wants and needs well too.

Can be difficult at times, since sometimes his work ends up coming first and he forgets the things you’ve been through, but once he comes down from his power trip he’s incredibly remorseful and tries his best to make it up to you.

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tarotmundomonde · 2 days ago

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Next 6 months will you have 18+ with someone?

will you have 18+ with your preferred gender during the next 6 months, yes or no and a short explanation :) ++ this is for both singles and those, who are dating but haven't done the 18+ yet with their current partner.

pick a number 1-5 or

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.💜 The answer is yes. It does look like the topic is left untouched at first. But then you or them, it looks like perhaps they will initiate the conversation. And eventually that's how you'll end up doing it. There is a sense of being prepared but also of convincing. They might send you literally nudes to show you they are the full package. But you are definitely the one having the final say in this. The cards do say you'll be first dreaming about doing it with each other and it looks like you will communicate it with each other, telling about your 18+ dreams of each other. You will be building trust with each other first. You might literally agree on a date, when you'll do it for the first time together. Romanticism, but also it looks like you'll really go for it. Unhibited, wild sxx. Also, the cards talk about solar plexus chakra activation and bonding.

2.🧡 The answer is no. What is shown here is that you are very smart and you don't melt. You have your opinions and in the end, even the greatest temptations cannot tempt you off your path. It looks like you will be using your discernment. I'll be honest with you, this pile is probably for the minority, because the cards are clear about you not being into quick fixes and quick flings. You just don't do them, you don't engage. Like the cards are showing, it looks like majority of the people look good on the surface, but they are all bitten apples. Those people just want the sxx and nothing else. You know, people who just wants the experience, high body counts and just go straight to sxx. For them that's the romance. Or friends with benefits. It looks like that's what you can easily find and plenty, it's always within reach. That's what's around you. Whereas you want to celebrate love, you want the excitement and the fun and the romance, the chemistry, the butterflies, the intimacy, the moments. But looking at the cards, not all hope is lost for the next 6 months. There is a chance that you will meet someone. According to the cards, someone, who is a very healthy golden apple, will find you. You are waiting for each other, to find each other and once you find each other, you will be patient with each other. The cards talk about waiting, chemistry, true love, full intimacy and creative intimacy and also heart chakra activation and bonding. So take your time and have fun.

3.🩶 The answer is yes. This is most likely going to happen with your partner, because it looks like there is deep trust between you two and that you feel relaxed and comfortable doing that with them. However, it doesn't look like it is necessarily planned. Rather you know it's bound to happen and someday you just do it. It could be even on an anniversary, for example 100 days anniversary. You also got throat chakra and solar plexus chakra activation and bonding. Also, the cards are talking about jealousy and being possessive and about memories. So maybe one of you or you both want to be so great that you can make the other forget about their exes. This could have to do with the body count as well. Because there is a focus on past partners and about wanting to protect your feelings from all the secrets and discoveries. Trying to have strong self-confidence. It's like wishing to be better and doing better than the exes. Hoping to be seen as the one.

4.💚 The answer is yes. Well, it looks like a lot of it. I dare say might be the most active pile. Strong attraction, intense, passionate. For some of you, this might be an ex. Or you'll break up but can't move on from each other and then have lots of make up sxx. Because this pile has it all: love sxx, angry sxx, make up sxx, passionate sxx. You feel like you two are such a match in that sense, feeling like it's a bliss, when you two do it. And apparently you two love the eye-contact, the loving gaze you give each other, it seems to be something special for you two. Like your own thing.

5.❤️ The answer is no. For this pile it turned very last minute into a no. It looks like you'll have some insecurities, fears and doubts. There is someone, who wants to do it with you, but it looks like you are not sure, if you can trust them. Again, this is not a personal reading, so the reasons will vary, for example maybe you'll meet them in five months and you are not ready to have sxx with them within a month. You might also worry, if you can be your true self, can you trust them. Maybe you are worried of your body image and fear that they would judge your body and tell it to their friends. Maybe you know something that makes you suspect they might go tell their friends about your body and what the sxx was like. It does look like you would like to keep your privacy and there is a doubt that your person won't respect that. Because the cards talk about gossip. So you might question, if that person is just whispering you sweet nothings trying to lure you to do it with them and then go tell their friends about it.

#tarot #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #daily tarot

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omaxy · 14 hours ago

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Please don't talk to me about patience, you don't know how many things I'm waiting for, you don't know about the long moments while I watch the hands of the clock move slowly, you don't know about the wishes I'm waiting to be fulfilled, how many trials I'm so patient with that I fear I'll get used to them. Do not ask me about my endurance, for I endure unbearable absurdities every day. I overcome situations that, if they had happened to you, would have ended your life immediately. I overcome harmful private details that make me collapse. I overcome the disappointments of friends whom I trusted and who let me down the most, and those who intended to hurt me. You do not know how many times I have overcome anxiety attacks in order to appear calm in front of you. You do not know how many times I have overcome the feeling of loss, nostalgia, and longing, even sadness, remorse, and self-flagellation, all of these feelings that I keep for fear of appearing in front of someone so fragile and weak, and please do not talk to me about War and challenge..I am always at war, with myself, which is looking for any opportunity to escape from the world and from my reality of continuing life normally. A war against my fears of a turbulent and shaky future, an extremely harsh reality, endless responsibilities and pressure. I am just a beautiful image in front of you. You do not know the truth. The thing is, you don't know what's going on behind the scenes.

#spilled thoughts #spilled words #dark academia #text #light academia #words #love #mental health #quotes #omaxy

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all-pacas · 1 day ago

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I can’t quite congeal this into a proper question so it’s okay if you don’t have much of a response but I was thinking about Cameron and your thoughts on her. I was thinking about how she started out as the fellow who defended House the most and moved onto being the one who saw House as corrupting everyone around him, who didn’t want Chase to go back to Diagnostics. Her journey is just so interesting

YEAH NO she's fascinating. she really starts off s1 hard on the asskissing: in the pilot she has a whole thing defending house as "someone who doesn't believe in pretense, who says what he wants," which… doesn't completely gel with cameron's later character (as someone who would much rather lie than tell an unpleasant truth), but is telling for who she was written to be. and it's everywhere in s1: foreman makes fun of her for not believing in god but believing everything house says; she alone doesn't believe he has a drug problem in detox, etc. my absolute favorite is in heavy, when house thinks cameron might have made a mistake: cameron is furious. she is personally betrayed:

CAMERON: I’m the only one who’s always stood behind you when you’ve screwed up. HOUSE: Why? Why would you support someone who screws up? CAMERON: Because I’m not insanely insecure. And because I can actually trust in another human being and I am not an angry, misanthropic son of a bitch.

i love this, because it is so - it makes no sense. house is right. why is she touting her loyalty when house fucks up as a selling point worthy of praise? why does she think it's a mark of confidence to back someone she knows is wrong? but it's very cameron, all righteous fury.

and it's fascinating too to watch her slowly shift away from this stance. she loses a lot of it after their date: while cameron doesn't completely get over house for a while, she never pursues him again and starts off s2 with a crush on a patient (so she's clearly moving on); she sort of… slides back in s3 when house is struggling with the ketamine wearing off (getting fully white knight about it), but is absolutely furious with him after and during the tritter arc: if i were to name a turning point for cameron, that was it. with vogler, with a lot of house's mistakes, she/we can sort of handwave house as "he's doing the right thing, just not playing by the rules" (she says as much about him in role model); house is sort of noble, right? but tritter really exposes the lengths house will go to when he's in a corner: he alienates basically everyone, punches out chase, and then cheats his way through rehab. and cameron… moves on. she tells house in human error she thinks he'll be just fine on his own, which is in a way a complete departure for cameron, who spent s1 trying to be his best supporter, s3 his protector, etc.

it isn't that she stops caring, right? while i do generally believe her when she starts tiredly insisting she's over house by s3, he's definitely always someone she's gonna be attracted to and drawn to, even though the shine and hero worship have absolutely worn off. and there's some interesting dynamic stuff at play too -- cameron really treats house and wilson like equals in a way chase and foreman don't, in a way house and wilson also don't really treat the 'kids:' she insists on being on equal footing with them, talks to them like peers instead of an underling, and that persists for most of the series: i've said it before, but cameron and house are much more alike than they're given credit for, too, yeah? and in a way it all comes together: as cameron's worshipping shine fades, she treats house as more of an equal and stops agreeing with everything he says and does in an attempt to make him love her, which in turn house responds to i think -- he too starts treating her more like a peer as time goes by. but she no longer has that loyalty in that same way. she's no longer trying to be his protector. they're peers.

and so when s6 happens… i mean, let's be real. cameron is scapegoating house. house says it. chase says it. she, fair enough, doesn't want chase to have killed a guy, so she's shifting the blame onto a convenient target. she's known for years house plays games, his messing around in teamwork is fairly innocuous and not different from his s4 games (that she participated in actively). but at this point she's looking for an excuse to blame house, to protect chase, and house no longer has that hero worship shine………

idk, i'm really just rambling too, but i so agree with you; cameron has such a fascinating arc (there's also the way she gets progressively more cheerful and confident as the years pass) and really doesn't get credit for it. i hate that she left the show and the show suffers without her, but… i love she was able to do it, you know? she's just the best

#malpractice posting #although it never ever would have worked and honestly i think they would have mutually HATED dating one another within a week #h/c is such a fascinating pairing to like. study. like it's not even “fun doomed yuri” it's just so weird and fascinating

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acupofinkedblood · 19 hours ago

Text

Medkit and adventurer reader [Be Careful, Again]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Medkit won’t claim that he’s the most patient doctor ever in Inpherno, but with how much he has to put up with a certain adventurer whose brain is as large as a weirdly mutant grape — in which it might seem a bit bigger than its own kin somewhat, but nonetheless, it’s still the size of a goddamn grape — such as Sword, he’d gladly accept that title to pay up for the endless groan he has to bite back every single moment the young man comes to him

“Try to be careful next time,” he’d sigh, “You haven’t paid the bill you owe me last month”

“Well, that might be a bit of a toughie- But I promise that I will remember it next time I’m back home!”

“Sure you do”

As much as he hates being a doctor, at least he takes this job seriously. It’s not like he can refuse whenever Sword needs his aid anyway. He always has a bit of a soft spot for this guy like how one would view an annoying younger brother. Sword probably mesmerizes his lecture about being reckless and all by heart at this point being since that’s mostly what Medkit usually brings up for conversation with him. But then again, that’s still debatable because Medkit doubts his birdbrain can ever remember the details of his nagging. Well, Sword is just Sword, and that’s something he can’t change. Best to learn how to get used to his presence to make things easier, right? Another thing is that Sword does pay him to do so. For someone who has to bathe in a bucket, who is he to ever refuse a bit of extra bux? It’s still a hassle though, to deal with Sword’s injuries and stuff

One Sword is definitely enough to be a pain in the ass, so imagine how Medkit’s jaw would have dropped when this stupid young man decided to have the goddamn audacity to drag another person to his place and asked him to heal them. Safe to say, Medkit almost choked on his coffee when that time arrived earlier than he would have expected. Rocket doesn’t count though, that’s a whole different story

Not because he was stunned because Sword technically banged his apartment’s door down, but rather out of spite because of the nerves this adventurer had. When he announced that you’re his new companion for his adventure trip, Medkit wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry at the news. Hell, he’d probably need a smoke break if you and Sword share a brain cell - which unfortunately for the doctor, his worries aren’t misplaced

You are technically another headache that the up and beyond decided to throw directly into his face, as if Sword alone isn’t a nuisance to deal with already, now he has two idiots to keep an eye on. With how much he has to treat Sword after each adventure, he dreads the idea of you will be the same way that boy is: Too naive and too reckless. It’ll just add up to his already occupied backache served with a side of the distress when he will have to worry about you two’s safety in case he also tolerates you like how Sword manages to worm into his life without a warning

One would say that being dragged by your companion to a stranger — who he claimed was the best doctor ever, a bit unconvincing but then here goes nothing — after you got yourself in a not-so-pretty mess all black and blue isn’t the best first impression that one could think of. But hey, it’s not like you can do anything about it. Before you have the time to object, Sword already threw you over his shoulder and rushed back to Crossroads. He brought you to this certain doctor who he trusted so much

It’s predictable, but that’s your first impression of Medkit: Looking at Sword with a frown that’s basically saying “You definitely have some explanation for me before I drag you down by the horns” as he unconsciously reaching out for the distinguished cigarette in the ashtray again with that expression which you can only describe as if he’s about to gasp then faint dramatically in offense like in medieval times. To respond to that, you can only grin out of confusion as you watch the man goes through five stages of grief within a few seconds

Sword, being the lovable idiot that he is, chimes in to ease the invisible tension without even aware of his eye twitches due to annoyance

“Don’t you worry about the bux, Medkit! We can take care of it next time when me and my pal get our stuff back”

“Wait, by that, you means..?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind me and my buddy dropping by more often in the future!”

Oh yes Sword, yes he does mind when the two of you decide it’s a brilliant idea to assign him to be your official caretaker out of nowhere. Though he does get paid to do so, at least have some consideration for him when having to deal with two idiots at the same time, no? And the fact Sword just trusts people so easily that he thinks it’s completely fine to bring a stranger to the doctor’s doorstep, it’s questionable. Sometimes Medkit has to question if Sword’s naivety is a blessing or a curse, and then he comes to the conclusion that Sword’s kindness is just genuinely too stupid to even understand

And that marks the start of Medkit having to involuntarily take another dumbass of an adventurer — no offense, he meant it in a lightheartedly way, probably? — under his wings

It does take quite the time before he grown a better tolerance to you like how he did with Sword. You can’t really tell him to just let his guard down when he barely knows you in person, right? Even when after that first meet, Sword does fill him in about your entire character in details so he can be less worried. But Medkit knows Sword longer than just any average Inphernals do, and he knows that this guy was too caring for his own good sometimes. It’s easy to impress someone like him, and that paves the perfect path to gain his trust. Yet Medkit isn’t that easy to get through though. He has to be certain that you will possess no potential harm to him first. Sword can trust you from the start, but Medkit prefers to play it safe

He originally meant to keep a distance with you unless Sword is there to force the circumstances of which requires his aid, even when he suspects that you’re barely younger or a tad bit older than Sword, this man can’t just go ahead and be comfortable around you immediately. Can’t blame him though, if you have known the trauma he endured since the very beginning before he first reached the warm embrace of the sunlight

But then again and again, you keep showing up in front of his door whenever you can’t bear the pain no more. During the few first times, Sword has to drag you to Medkit because of your stubbornness that insists that you’re fine even when it’s obvious that you are far than just ‘fine’. That has been going on for long enough, even with your companion’s reassurance that surely the doctor won’t be bothered of your appearance — Medkit, however, was still holding his neutral yet ready to get defensive attitude when it comes to you — you still get cold feet when thinking of how you will have to see that unpleasant expression of Medkit again as if you were a burden

As much as Medkit prefers to put up that nonchalant facade alongside with the infamous aloof attitude, he still has some underlying concern for others hidden behind that tough exterior he built by himself. Seeing you like that doesn’t sit right to him. You act as if he’s a boogeyman haunting the children’s hospital and steal other young patients’ candies. Sure, he might look a bit unapproachable, but surely not to that extent, right? Being asocial as he is, Mekdit doesn’t really mind at first. But as he noticed just how tensed up you are as if you tried to be on your best behavior in front of a strict adult — and it’s already multiple times despite Sword’s presence to ease it up — he isn’t having it so far. At least if you are being dragged here for him to treat your wounds, then all he asks is that you for you to stop being such a wreck like he is about to eat you alive. Have some trust in his professionalism even when he doesn’t actually have a license and calm your nerves down, damn it. Your demeanor catches his attention enough to forget that whole thing of keeping a distance. Because then again, as Medkit thinks about it, what can you possibly do? He doesn’t know you well enough to determine whether or not you are a bad apple, but since you manage to be friends with Sword, he might or might not assume your intelligence based on that decision of yours. The point is, he soon comes to his senses that you will bring no harm, as he hasn’t noticed any ill intentions coming from you based on his observations for a good while

That realization does the both of you quite a favor. Medkit takes it easy on you, not keeping that intimidating glance to urge you to keep your distance anymore. It’s a positive change, even when it’s a tad bit subtle as Medkit doesn’t seem to be the type to show his emotions well. In his mind, he has already shown his tolerance to you. Whether you can pick it up or not is just a matter of time, and hey, you’re probably going to have a tough time trying to recognize the change of attitude coming from Medkit. It’s not that clear as he thinks it is after all

Regardless of that, you soon find yourself to be less anxious at the presence of the doctor. Mostly because of Sword’s reassurance rather than Medkit’s attempt to appear less hostile to neutral, but hey, that’s still a win for each side. Medkit is a man of few words, you have figured it out. But he does have this certain sense of humor which is even dryer than a sunburned fish which makes you feel less anxious. Most of those are sarcastic remarks, yes, but he means well. Medkit doesn’t mind if you respond to his sarcasm or not, though after a few attempts of trying to do so, it’s actually not that bad. He doesn’t bite after all, as long as you know your manners

As a fellow adventurer, danger is always present during your journey. Getting injured is a normal thing at this point. Yet unlike before, you two have a medic in which you can turn to this time. Sword used to have to drag you to see Mekdit, yet now you already have the courage to seek him out on your own without it being against your will. Your visit to Medkit has a high frequency from that day. Sometimes it’s you who have to pull Sword by his cape to meet Medkit, oh how the turned table. It does take quite the time for you to achieve that sort of inner strength, but since Medkit doesn’t really mind as long as you still pay him in times, you just decided to roll the dice at this point. Aside from Sword, you have become a regular patient knocking on his apartment. He does let you off if you can’t pay him just yet, probably transfer it on Sword’s bills. But hey, his company isn’t actually that bad. You soon grow fond of the doctor’s company, as sometimes he also provides you a couple of good advice coming from his experiences too. Medkit is like that standoff type of a trusted adult, you know you can turn to him whenever you’re at a tough spot. He might sigh aloud as a little protest, but you know he still cares. At least he tries to

“Medkit, we’re back!”

Medkit looks rather unamused as you make your way into his apartment while carrying a smiling Sword on your back. The two of you really share a brain cell, that alone should explain the similar smile you both keep on your faces even when it’s obvious that you and Sword look as if you two just survive an explosion. Rubbing his eyes in mild disbelief, Medkit can’t help but groan

“What did you two do this time”

“Well,” you grin, “Just the typical thrill of the adventures. Although, Sword sprained his ankle, I think?”

“And?”

Medkit keeps his gaze on you, waiting for you to report your own condition to him before he has to check it out himself. You can still walk on your own, which is better than the swordsman on your back. However that doesn’t mean you’re any better when it comes to physical injuries. You do notice the judging look on Medkit, and as a response, you can only sigh in defeat. Hiding things from a doctor isn’t the wisest move, you know? You don’t go and see a medic while bringing a huge basket of apples from the avoiding-my-problem garden, Medkit will probably shove an apple in your mouth if you dare to do so. An apple a day keeps a doctor away after all. There is no point in beating around the bush, so you just mumble quickly under your breath

“And I might or might not been stabbed in the stomach-”

Medkit literally facepalmed himself on spot when you say that. He almost drags you by the horn and lecturing the hell out of you. Why do you think it’s a good idea to carry someone on your back when your wound is barely patched up? You could have lose more than just blood! But then Medkit holds himself back since there is a high chance that Sword will be fallen off your back and then things will just get even more messier. And he is too poor to even acquire a new good attitude for the day, so he’d rather avoid spending on unnecessary change of broken stuff

If Medkit has a bux whenever he has grown to care for an idiot of an adventurer that just hopped into his life with no warning, he will have two bux. Which isn’t a lots, but it’s weird how it has happened twice. That’s being said, you managed to achieve his tolerance. Congratulations! Although it’s not much of a privilege, you do have someone new that cares for your well-beings in the very moment. Just don’t die on him, Medkit genuinely think he can’t take that shock

Another day, another oddly peaceful moment in his own apartment. The day has been going slow for the doctor ever since he decided to hide away from his fellow cultists at Crossroads. The cult hasn’t contacted him just yet, though Medkit can’t seem to get used to the unusual tranquility just yet. He feels like he has been walking on eggshells as far as his memory can travel. It’s infuriating, how much of a tight spot his life has been cornering him. Putting the book down before distinguishing the almost burnt out cigarette in between his fingers, Medkit relaxes his facial expression slightly as he stares into nowhere. Peace, he has soon forgotten how peace actually feels like ever since his life takes a left turn with that rotten bastard. Sword’s unannounced appearance alongside with you does distract him from his worries slightly. You two are just pipsqueaks in his eyes no matter how tall you get physically, and before Medkit knows it, he already looks out for you two like how an older brother would. He cares for Sword, he cares for you. Medkit won’t have it another way, at least in this vulnerable moment of his mental

Then again, as if getting too sentimental on one’s own is forbidden, because Medkit almost flies off the couch when the sudden bangs against the door suddenly knocks out of the blue which indeed ruins his very own rare moment of silence in his mind. His eye immediately moves the front door where the sound occurs. His body tenses up slightly at the possibility of who can be there. For a good moment, Medkit keeps his mouth shut for his own safety. He prays to whoever up there that it’s not anyone from the Cult of True Eye, because then his life will probably take another dark turn if that even happens

“Medkit! Medkit, are you home?”

“Keep your voice down! And you’re poking my wounds man!”

Wait, that’s just his idiots’ voices. Two of his idiots who are just kids in his eyes, to be specific. Two of his idiotic adventurers who he views as his younger siblings yet at the same time also the harbingers of headache whenever they come to visit him, to be even more specific

Medkit lets out of a deep sigh in relief. At least it’s just them, not anyone else. But with how urgent Sword’s voice is, he probably shouldn’t be too happy just yet. If Medkit isn’t hearing things, then your voice sounds as if you’re in pain. That’s definitely not a good sign. Damn, his horns will probably turn gray soon because of the two of you. The doctor immediately sits up from the couch then makes his way towards the door to open it up. And just like he expected, you two are even louder when there is no door serving as an obstacle to muffle the sound

“I told you I’m fine! It’s not like I’m about to die there,” you grumble as if you’re about to bite your companion’s head, “You’re basically dangling my body damnit!”

“I’m just worried, you look like everything but fine!” Sword protests, “Plus it’s not that bad. You don’t let me carry you after all!”

“Are you two done?”

It’s comedic how the two of you immediately stop bickering when Medkit’s annoyed voice breaks it out. At that moment, the doctor decides to look over to the state of you two. Sword looks fine somewhat compared to the questionable state you are looking now. SFOTHs above, you look like you just got revived from death

None of you or Sword dares to speak up even more. But your eyes already say enough for Medkit to understand. Though before that, as the doctor glances over to how Sword is currently carrying your arm around his neck, he frowns as the position is definitely not comfortable for you at the very moment at all. He offers his arms, carefully yet firmly taking your damaged body from Sword before shoots the swordsman a warning glare

“That’s not the way for you to carry a patient,” Medkit scoffs as he holds you, “You might as well break their arm while you’re at it”

Sword looks down like a guilty puppy that is just accused of something bad. But Medkit knows him, he will get back to his sunshine and rainbow state soon enough. It’s barely noontime, and the two of you are making a fuss in front of his apartment. All he wishes at the moment is for no one to make any complaints because that will just make things worse in Medkit’s situation. You and Sword combined can be way worse than a newly-bought speaker sometimes. In another sense, it can be pretty annoying

The doctor shoots his glare back at you, but then quickly closes his eye with a deep exhale to calm his own nerves. He can’t help but mumbling a few curses before putting on his no-nonsense business face. He can’t really take his irritation out on neither any of you, he knows better than that. In addition, you’re also hurt, so it’s best that he takes you inside for proper treatment first

“Come inside then,” he gestures you both to enter, “Let me have a look. And Sword, close the door too”

Thankfully, the wounds aren’t anything too serious aside from a few scrapes and bruises. A part of Medkit is relieved because he won’t have to treat any broken bones today, which means you’re still smart enough to a certain extent to avoid such misfortune during your little adventure. For someone with such a stern face, it’s quite the pleasant surprise when you figure out he can be rather pretty gentle while treating his patient. Or to be specific, you. Medkit makes sure that everything is alright with you, asking you if the bandages are too tight or telling you to take it easy when he cleanse the cut. He does take his job seriously after all, don’t be so dumbfounded. Time passes by with Medkit carefully dressing your arm up in silence. Out of the blue, Sword decides to break the ice by start to ramble on what happened to keep the doctor on updates even when no one asked him just yet. It’s the thought that counts

Turned out the two of you were playing the heroes. Spotting a group of bandits in the outskirt of Lost Temple, jumping in to fight them because of the convincing argument being ‘bad guys have to get their butts kicked’ — Sword’s words, not his — and then as expected, you claimed the victory after dragging all of them down to the nearest police station. You might or might not have let your tongue go a bit too far while taunting those bandits, which pushed their buttons away too far. One thing that none of you can foresee was how one of the thieves managed to break free, and the first thing the bastard decided to do was charging directly at you. The intention was as clear as day: If he had to go down, he would go lower by bringing another life with him. Of course, it caught you off guard. Sword interfered in time before the criminal could pull the trigger of his gun which was aimed at your forehead, yet it did give you quite the fright, no? Not to mention how he did put up a good fight against you when you were distracted too, so it was understandable when Sword had to bring you to Medkit. It wasn’t fatal, but you looked like you were dragged all over the hot sand by a cart - can you blame Sword for being a worrywart?

Medkit could only shake his head as the tale is finished. Why is he not surprised anymore at this point?

That’s definitely something the you two will do: Risking your own safety for this confident sense of justice no matter the cost. Personally, Medkit can’t understand it. He can’t understand you or Sword, maybe he’s just a coward. Though one thing about Medkit is that despite not giving a damn about this whole interfering in other’s business with high and mighty attitude — he can’t even look out for himself, let alone meddling in other’s business — since that’s just straight up asking for more troubles upon his own self, he isn’t exactly heartless. He still has some people that he genuinely cares about in his own way, like you and Sword. Hell, the two of you are certainly a package deal of an once in a lifetime’s kind of hassle, but the doctor is used to it by now

“Sword, go to the kitchen and get me a some ice. Then come back so I can check up on you as well”

At Medkit’s words, Sword stops fidgeting with his cape before nodding slightly. It’s best to keep Sword pacing around, since Medkit learns that making Sword sit still with nothing to do while he is treating you will make the swordsman rather uncomfortable. Sword has too much enthusiasm stored inside his body which makes him similar to a ball of energy, and no one in their right mind should try to tie that ball down into one place. So when Medkit tells Sword to go and find what he needs, you do see why he does that. Slumping down to be comfortable on the sofa, you avert your eyes from nowhere to his face. Medkit doesn’t look at you directly in the eyes just yet, though he does speak up while he is cupping your face to push it aside just to check if there is any wounds left on your head

“What did I say about this?”

By ‘this’, he means the lecture he goes over and over again about you being reckless while you’re traveling around with Sword. Though technically speaking, you don’t see it coming since the bandit charged directly at you when you least expect it. But please pardon him, his doting is just a slight facade of care he uses to make himself clear in front of you. That’s just how he is, as the idea of caring about your safety like a mother hen doesn’t sit right with him. Emotion isn’t his strong suit, keep that in mind. Call it tough love is not wrong at all, but hey, it’s not exactly that tough

“Well,” you sigh begrudgingly like a disobedient child, “Always keep an eye on my surroundings, never put my guard down and be prepared for the worst…I know, I know”

“Very well. Keep that in mind next time then. But it’s good to know that there isn’t any serious potential risk, or else thing can be much more complicated”

He lets your head go after a good moment of examining it in a meticulous manner. Medkit was about to make a sarcastic remark at how despite there is no sign of brain damage, you still seem to unable to comprehend his words despite repeating it all the times. Though upon looking at your sulky expression, he decides to take it easy on you today

“I’m glad that you’re safe”

“Huh?”

Medkit’s words catch you off guard as you look up in surprise. Your ears aren’t playing tricks on your mind, although it’s just a quiet murmur, you actually hear it word by word. The doctor already plays it off casually as he looks to the other side mindlessly, as if his words earlier were simply but a gust of wind passing through. Believe it or not, he actually feels embarrassed when saying that aloud. Usually his thoughts will be kept to himself, yet seeing you like that does make his shoulders less tensed up. Because you’re fine. That alone is everything he wants to know at the moment. Will he repeat himself to your amusement? Definitely not a chance. But of course, you heard it loud and clear. He was worried for you, even felt relived when acknowledging that you’re alright. It brings a sly smile on your face. It’s not often that you have the chance to witness Medkit being soft, it’s definitely something to be proud of, even when the said moment is rather rare to catch

Mekdit can read your thoughts, no, it’s not exactly thoughts when it’s literally written all over your face. That growing grin of yours only adds up to his theory. He immediately clicks his tongue as a mild gesture of protest since he knows that you’re not going to let him get away with that

“Don’t you dare,” he warns, “You hear nothing”

“But you do care!”

“One more word of that and I will be charging you double”

“Oh c’mon! There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” your laughter causes Medkit to physically groan, no hard feelings though, so rest assured, “You’re like a mother hen, you know?”

When that sentence is said by you, Medkit cringes at the mental image when he’s like a babysitter for the both of you like a mother hen. He can cringe all he wants, but there is no point in arguing because he does act like a doting know-it-all parental figure to you. Once again, emotional aspect isn’t Medkit’s specialty, so he doesn’t really know how to comfort others or what comes with it. Yet in your eyes, you realize that he does it in his own way. Not with sugarcoating words or gentle pats, but with a reality check to keep you on your feet. Sometimes with guidance too. Not to mention how he tends to your wounds no matter how much he acts like it’s a bother to him. Maybe you don’t know Medkit enough to know him inside out, but you do understand his characteristics to a certain extent in which you can be sure when saying that he actually worry for you

It’s actually sweet, considering how stoic Medkit makes himself to appear in front of others

“Is this enough ice?”

Eventually, Sword comes back just in time to see you smiling proudly on the cough while Medkit is resting his hand against his forehead in defeat because of how cheeky you have been acting. Though when he sees the amount of ice in Sword’s has hands, he facepalms himself to drag his own mind back to reality. Medkit gestures Sword to sit down. He attentively picks the ice up from the adventurer’s hands to move it on the coffee table instead. Ripping a small piece of bandage to make a small cloth, he places one of the ice pieces inside then wraps it up carefully. Without another wasted moment, he turns back to you with the wrapped up ice in his hand

“Keep this on your cheek,” Medkit presses the ice against your face until your own hand reaches up to hold it, “Keep it there, I’m going to check on Sword now”

You chirp a sound of positive acknowledgment to Medkit. When he turns away to tend to Sword, you can’t help but look at your companion. You two share a brain cell after all, even when it’s just metaphorically. But Sword already knows what are you thinking at the moment, hence the smile quickly appears on his face. You title your head to get in the way between Medkit and Sword with a shit eating grin much to the doctor’s surprise

“Can we get some juices after this?”

“Ugh, again with that childish drink?”

“Hey! It’s not childish,” you disagree with a lighthearted giggle, “You’re no fun, Medkit!”

You and Sword both laugh aloud at Medkit’s response. Childish, that’s what he always uses to describe you two. Medkit just shakes his head once again as headache number one — which is Sword — and headache number two — of course, you — look at him expectantly with that smile of mischief. What did he get himself into again? He should really charge the two of you extra as the babysitting fees in the future. But for now, he simply huffs after flicking your head first to push you aside

“You two are impossible”

Whether Medkit agrees or not is up to your skill of negotiating, that means you still have a chance to bound with him through that silly request of yours! A win is still a win, but his answer still remains a mystery as he has to focus on taking care of Sword’s wound. This noon’s tranquility might be ruined by you two’s appearance, but it’s not necessary a bad thing. If anything, Medkit is not upset with it. It’s just you after all. You do keep his mind distracted from those bad thoughts. And even when he doesn’t say this out loud, he’s glad that everything is still within control

But most importantly, he’s glad that his idiots are still safe and sound, enough for them to laugh it off like this

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: Out of the blue, I’m carving for something sweet and refreshing in the middle of the night while writing this ♪(´ε｀ )

#phighting x reader #x reader #phighting!#medkit x reader #phighting medkit #medkit phighting #shui mo’s black tea

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