#whenever he wants tea he just says that want out loud and it gets brought to him by magic

[countess-of-edessa]

“are the girls going to help you make pierogis?” well no one else is fucking gonna are they? no one else in this house has functional fucking hands apparently

[vernoniekiss]

hiii hope you are well 🥰 i wanted to request how each member would profess their love to you when they’re drunk if that makes sense

drunk svt professing their love to their s/o | [ ot13 ]

a/n: hi ! thankyou sm for the request. i’m doing quite well, hope you are too ! i think i also strayed away from the prompt too,, sorry.

[🫧] seungcheol

- the protective drunk. wouldn’t want anyone else to touch you or get anywhere near you. afraid someone might steal you away from him, to which they can’t because seungcheol is literally the love of your life. he doesn’t even have to tell you that he loves you because his actions speak louder than words.

[🫧] jeonghan

- teases you, him with his bright red cheeks with a cheeky smile. “i didn’t know you love me THAT much y/n~” whenever you try to touch him, like holding his hands or giving him a kiss. “but don’t worry, i love you so much”.

[🫧] joshua

- flirty drunk !!!! flirts like his life depends on it, wants to see you flustered but he’s more flustered when you flirt back :/ . would also be abit clingy to you, whispering “i love yous” every now and then.

[🫧] junhui

- poor baby blabbering nonsense right next your ear. his heads on your shoulder. all you could make out from his blabber is “love yous” “you’re so pretty” “i’m so glad im your boyfriend”. pouts his lips for kisses. reminds you of a cat…

[🫧] hoshi

- also a clingy drunk 100%. would CRY professing his love to you. you’re just there awkwardly patting his back. cling onto you for the whole night,, you’re just happy to be there :D

[🫧] wonwoo

- the type to keep his hands in yours the whole night. he’ll a bit clingier than usual. he doesn’t even have to say anything but you know he loves you and trusts you when he’s drunk.

[🫧] woozi

- i remember watching him and suga ep10 and he brought tea or something instead of drinking alcohol. cant imagine him being drunk but maybe tipsy. he’s cute when he’s there blushing/ flustered at every move you do to him. blurts that he loves you randomly during the night.

[🫧] dokeoym

- he would NOT leave you alone. he would follow you everywhere you go. he’s loud, he’s loud with his love to you. whenever there’s karaoke, he’s singing a song for you, literally a song that’s dedicated to you and only for you.

[🫧] mingyu

- 101% also a very clingy and pouty drunk. very affectionate when he’s drunk too. he’s always by your side even if you move to do something. kissing you all the time, holding you at every chance he gets. “mmh i loveeeee youuu~”

[🫧] minghao

- his actions speak louder than words but i also can’t imagine him being really drunk. he’s always holding your hands, using his thumb to caress the front of your hands. forehead kisses and when he’s tired he’ll sit even closer to you and put his head on your shoulders.

[🫧] seungkwan

- if you and seventeen are all playing a game like mafia while drinking, trust seungkwan is going to defend your ass at all times “what do you mean y/n is the mafia ?! you must be out of your mind!!!” he always makes you feel involved in stuff, he’ll always keep and eye out for you. when he’s tired and drunker than he was earlier, he’ll quietly let you know that you’re the best thing that happened to him. he doesn’t wanna get teased by hoshi or anyone else hearing him say that.

[🫧] vernon

- you think it’s cute, how he’s sitting next to you, rather nearly ON you. rambling on how he loves you so much in your ear. he’s a clingy drunk 100%. always has to he touching you in any way, his hands on your thigh, interlinked pinkies etc.

[🫧] chan

- he’ll let the whole world know that his love is only for you. if you’re at the bar or seventeen, he’ll go round pointing at you and say “that’s my girlfriend. i LOVEEEE her so much”. you’d also probably have to get on your knees to beg him to stop and go home 😞.

[cirtusmistress]

Hurricane

Authors Note: I wrote this about two years ago and posted it to AO3, and never cross-posted it to Tumblr. But given I want to get back into writing, I may as well start by posting what I got! So enjoy my first fic, two years late.

Ship ~ Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Tags ~ Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Reader is Competent, Storm prep, Brahms is Scared of Storms, Touch-Starved Brahms Heelshire, Reader Replaces Greta Evans, Minor Injuries, Doll Brahms Heelshire, One Shot, Gender-Neutral Pronouns

AO3 Crosspost

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

“A storm? Like, a thunderstorm? Or is it worse?” You asked. You’d been working for the Heelshire’s for around two months now. And though they’d left you with very detailed instructions on how to care for their beloved son, they had never brought up things such as house care. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying this long. Not into Autumn.

“A full on hurricane.” Malcolm answered, setting the last of the grocery bags down. He continued, “The worst one we’ve had in years apparently. They’re predicting outages and downed trees. I can help you secure the windows and doors if you’d like?” He offered. A sweet gesture. An olive branch of friendship. But you knew better than to take it.

During your short time at the Heelshire estate, and caring for Brahms, you’d learned a great many things. The most crucial being that whenever someone stayed around too long and stole your attention away from the doll you cared for, there was hell to pay. In one instance you found the dining room in complete disarray after simply inviting Malcolm in for tea, during a rare social moment for you. The worst case was when a friend of yours stopped by. They were a globetrotter, and seeing as you already had residence found it simpler to just stay with you. A mistake. One night was enough to send Brahms into the worst tantrum you’d ever seen. Multiple rooms destroyed, a window had been broken, and he had stolen your friend's passport. Your friendship didn’t last long after that. After all, who was to believe that a doll could cause so much harm?

“Thank you, Malcolm, but I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a few storms in my life, I’ll manage.” You replied. Malcolm studied you for a moment. Likely trying to read you, sniff out any signs of dishonesty. But, there were none. Just that warm smile that could melt anyone's heart. He gave a sigh of defeat and nodded.

“If you say so. Just give me a call if you need anything. I’ll come check on you when the hurricane passes.” With that he gave you a wave and headed back to his truck. You muttered a soft thanks, finally returning to your chores.

Brahms sat in the kitchen where he’d been waiting. Like he was listening to your conversation. You’d grown used to this odd job of yours. Caring for a doll as if it were human. Though you’d always figured there was more to this situation then most believed. You’d heard of people using dolls to cope with loss, the concept wasn’t lost on you. But for a couple well into their later years? And there were just.. Too many small things. Even in the rules. Playing music loud, reading in a loud clear voice, leaving food in the freezer. Food which you knew was going missing.

But the biggest tell was an accident. It had been about a month into the job. You’d actually begun to believe Brahms was a child's spirit trapped in the doll. What with him moving around on his own, and leaving you little offerings, and once saying your goddamn name when he was upset. But then, just by accident as you were putting Brahms to bed, you hit your foot against the wall. It had hurt so badly you thought you’d broken a toe. But what stood out in your mind even now was the sound the wall made. It didn’t make the thud you knew from stubbing your toe time and time again in youth. The wall sounded hollow. There had been an echo. Now you knew some older houses had hollow walls. Normally the cavities between the two layers were used for insulation. But that echo.. That wasn’t a normal hollow wall.

After that you’d started paying closer attention to the house and Brahms as you went about your day. Watching and listening. Countless nights where you’d lay in bed and just listen. You’d hear shuffling, the rare footstep like someone had stumbled. Once you swore you heard breathing. You noticed how many rooms had large paintings or cabinets, your size or larger. For a while you thought you were going mad. There was no way in hell that an elderly couple had been keeping their son in the walls for twenty years. But then you learned of the Heelshire’s deaths. Suicides. So many things pointing to something you didn’t quite know how to feel about. On one hand, you were now basically the sole guardian of a doll who was actually a stand-in for the hypothetical twenty-eight year old man in the walls. On the other, Brahms was now completely alone after twenty years of isolation. Alone, save for you. Sweet, kind, loving you who treated a porcelain doll like a real boy. Who read to him every night and tucked him in with a kiss. You couldn’t just leave him. No matter what Brahms was.

“We’re in for a storm, Brahms. I guess that means we’re having a slumber party downstairs tonight.” You cortled, putting the last of the groceries away. You took note of how little perishables Malcolm had dropped off. Thinking ahead. You wouldn’t be able to cook for however long the power was gone, if it did go that was.

You turned back to the doll, scooping him up and taking him with you. You figured the downstairs office would be the safest place. The windows were relatively small and were less likely to break. It would do for your purposes. You sat Brahms in the corner and got to work moving the desk out of the way. You’d have to lay down blankets and things to sleep on. You doubted the old fashioned Heelshire’s were going to have something like an air mattress.

You spent a good hour doing basic storm prep. Dragging some old blankets and comforters out of wardrobes and laying them down on the floor. Filling up buckets and the tubs with water. Getting crossword puzzles and cards. By the time that was all done, it had begun to rain outside. The calm before the storm you supposed. The last thing on your storm checklist was lanterns. This was an old house, you were certain that the Heelshire’s would have oil lamps somewhere. Naturally the first place you wanted to check was the attic.. But you knew better. After all, if your theory was right you didn’t want to scare the poor man by invading his space. So you settled on checking the cellar first.

Only issue was, you really couldn’t bring Brahms. You knew he was never meant to be alone but taking a fragile doll into a dark cellar was too risky. He’d have to stay upstairs. You were hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Brahms, I’m headed to the cellar. I’ll be quick, I promise.” You hummed. With that, you headed down alone. You had been right, it was dark and musty and damp. You started to wonder if there was mold down here. You flicked on the old dingy light which surprisingly still worked. You began digging through the clutter. Old things like furniture, clothes never worn since the sixties, even some art pieces. It was like a time capsule. You didn’t have time to walk through history though, you needed to find anything that could give light without the use of electricity. Lower and lower you went through the piles, until finally you found something. A pair of old oil lamps and a small can of oil to go with it. You muttered a soft thanks, pulling them out from beneath wicker chairs. But what was behind them gave you pause.

The bricks were singed. Dark burn marks that showed age. Your eyes followed the marks. The furniture in here had covered them, but now they were exposed after your rummaging. They flowed over the bricks going upwards. They almost looked beautiful. But that beauty hid a tragedy that plagued this home. You knew why they’d been hidden with so much clutter.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something crashed behind you, making you scream and jump. When you turned you saw one of the mirrored vanities stored away had been smashed. The mirror shards now littered the floor. And on the steps sat the Brahms doll, staring you down. It took you a moment to catch your breath, realizing your error. Brahms didn’t want you uncovering his painful memories. And he’d made sure you knew that. Gathering yourself, you pushed the lamps aside and began to put all that you’d moved back into its place. Covering those painful memories back up, letting them remain hidden and forgotten. Once finished you picked the lamps and the can up and approached Brahms. Kneeling to his height you gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Brahms,” you spoke with such a genuine tone of sincerity, “I shouldn’t have snooped around. But look! I found the lamps we’ll need!” You held up the lamps, jostling them a little so they clinked together. Of course the doll remained frozen. But just faintly, almost missable under the sound of rain pouring down, you heard panting. Like someone coming down from a rage.

“I’ll clean up the shards, then we’ll head back upstairs, okay?” You’d started speaking to Brahms out loud more after you’d learned about the walls. Feeding your own delusions some would say. You held your word, starting to pick up the larger shards and resting them on top of the vanity. The smaller ones you just brushed away with some loose fabric you found. You didn’t really plan on coming back down here anyways, not after that outburst.

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

You always found time moves slower when there was a storm. The day seemed to drag on as the storm became worse and worse. The wind had picked up and those raindrops just kept getting larger. It was loud, even on the bottom floor. You had settled on just simple sandwiches for dinner, making sure to put a ‘spare’ in the freezer. And after that you’d just settled in to do a crossword. It was.. Probably the first time in weeks where you felt safe. There was something about the dim lighting and blankets that just felt right. Secure. Warm. Brahms sat under the covers and you’d even given him a crossword book of his own. Slightly cruel, knowing he couldn’t move with you there with him. But at least you’d been talking to him. Funny, you always struggled talking with real people. But this doll turned you into a chatterbox. Maybe it was the simple fact no one was attempting to speak over you. Like someone was actually listening.

Your tranquility was disrupted by a large gust of wind, followed by a crash that made the manor shake. And what sounded like a scream. It had come from upstairs. Something inside you just knew. That crash was in the attic. You were running upstairs before you even had time to think. Up the stairs, and finding the attic ladder down. You were unsure if it had come undone itself or if someone had moved it. That didn’t matter as you climbed up. It was your first time in the attic but you didn’t get a chance to explore. A branch had flown off a tree and crashed through the wall, opening it up to the elements. You could only act, no time for clear thoughts. You grabbed a nearby blanket and started to desperately try to cover the hole, but another gale blew you back. There was nothing you could do to patch it right now, not unless you wanted to risk injury or worse, death.

Your rattled mind returned to the scream you had heard. Or at least you thought you had heard. Looking around you didn’t see a body but there was a bed up here. A tv, a sink.. Someone was living here. You didn’t have time to celebrate your theory being proven. Where was Brahms? Your eyes flitted around, finally landing back on the ladder. Somehow you had missed the very clear bloody handprint on it during your panic. But if Brahms was bleeding.. Oh God, how badly was he injured? Quickly you descended the steps, trying to find any sign of him. You were too panicked to even fear this man who was hiding from you for so long. All you knew somewhere in this house he was hurt and bleeding.

“Brahms?” You called, starting to check every room. Could he have climbed back into the walls? Fearing you discovering him? You checked everything on the top floor and worked down, calling his name in a more desperate tone with each exclamation. But finally you found him. Turning the corner back into the downstairs study. There he sat, in place of the doll. It wasn’t what you expected to see. The mask was shocking at first glance. You were momentarily stun locked. He was bigger than you anticipated, even sitting down. Finally you snapped out of it when he looked at you, and held out his bleeding hand. It had a sizable gash across the palm.

“It hurts,” He spoke in a child-like voice. The voice you’d heard months ago. His head drooped a touch as he spoke, “Can you fix it?” He asked. Finally, after another beat, you nodded. Your mouth felt dry. Too dry to speak. In the kitchen you found the first aid, and took it back with you. He hadn’t moved from his place on the makeshift bed. You knelt beside him, and carefully took his hand in yours. Up close you could see the burn scars that ran along his entire right side. Suddenly his outburst in the cellar made much more sense.. Carefully you applied some rubbing alcohol to the cut. That made Brahms whimper and pull his hand back. The look in his eyes behind that mask was murderous.

“I’m sorry, Brahms, but I have to.. To clean it.” You choke out. Your mouth is still far too dry. You hold your hand out for his again, giving him those warm eyes again. He would trust you wouldn’t he? After all, you had been the one to care for him all this time. He looked at your hand, then back to your face. For a moment Brahms almost seemed entranced by your eyes before conceding and resting his hand back in yours.

“Good boy..” You said, starting to clean the wound. He made a noise akin to that of a moan at your praise. You supposed you were the first person to touch him or give him praise in years. He was likely touch starved. Once the cut was clean, you grabbed the bandages and began to wrap his hand. He kept watching you. His breath was heavy behind that mask.

Finally you were done, and you let his hand go. Brahms examined your work, how carefully you’d wrapped him, and the cute little bow you’d tied it off with. As he studied his hand, you studied him. Despite the childish voice he put on, he was very much an adult. You could see his beard poking out from beneath the porcelain. He was actually rather handsome, you’d admit. The rain picked up again, and the lights began flickering. Brahms jumped and quickly moved closer to you. Before you knew it his head was hiding in your lap. Apparently he was afraid of the storm. Made sense, it had attacked him after all. Carefully you began to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“We’ll be okay. Just a little wind and rain, that’s all. Maybe we can play cards? Or I can tell you a story?” You offered. Just trying to find anything to distract him from the weather outside damaging his home. Slowly he nodded, not lifting his head from your waist. Actually his grip seemed to grow tighter. You could feel him inhaling a little too deeply, and his hands started to squeeze your thighs as he held tight. You felt bad thinking how unsurprised that made you. But he had lived in the walls for twenty years.. And you were likely the first person he’d had stick around.

You settled back on to the makeshift mattress, Brahms never letting you go. He shuffled up a bit, so his face was resting against your chest. You kept stroking his hair, picking your brain for a story to tell. Something romantic as you had a wild feeling that was right up his alley. You recounted the story of Pride and Prejudice, not skipping any details of the classic story. Brahms seemed all too enthralled by the tale. He even began to kick his feet in the air when you recounted the climax between Elizabeth and the beloved Mr.Darcy. Just before you could finish though, the lights finally gave out. Brahms tensed up against you and again hugged you tight against him. You let out a wheeze. You needed to get the lamps but he seemed content just smothering you until the lights came back themselves. Finally you managed to sit up as he continued to cling like a baby koala.

“Brahms, sweetheart, I need to light the lamps.” You manage to get out. But that seems to make his grip tighter. He shakes his head, face pulling your shirt back and forth.

“No. No lamps. I don’t want any fire in the house.” He whimpered. Your heart broke a little. That night seemed to have never left Brahms.. You stroked his back soothingly before trailing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“Brahms, we need light. It’ll be okay, I can work an oil lamp-” You were cut off as Brahms slammed you back down against the floor. Even with the cushioning it knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands fell from his face beside yourself as his own gripped your shoulders.

“No fire in the house. Never again.” His voice was no longer that high falsetto. Instead it was deep, aggressive. He sounded his age. You gasped for air, before nodding. Tears had pricked your eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt as you questioned whether or not he’d hurt you.

Finally you found your voice again, “Okay Brahms. No lamps, I promise. Do you want another story?” You asked in a feeble attempt to calm him back down. Lucky for you it seemed to work. Brahms grip on your shoulders loosened, and he returned his head to your chest. He nodded and urged you on to tell your story.

A shaky sigh escaped you. You thanked your lucky stars that you could calm him so easily. As you began telling another story, the rain and wind outside crashed into the manor. You knew Brahms would never harm you. Not you. Not his caretaker. But you began to wonder. How long would this storm last? Suddenly, in the dark, the room no longer felt secure.

[cupidsdolll]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; time apart helps both Harry and Y/N learn more about themselves and their feelings.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3.1k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; slight angst? i’m pretty sure that’s it!

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; hi hello! here’s the long awaited part two! part one is linked here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet! i hope you all like it <3

- - - -

Heartbreak is always one of the worst pains, but Harry thinks the absence of someone that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember hurts worse. It’s been a week since Y/N said she needed space after confessing her feelings for him and he’s just miserable. He’s not as happy as he normally is, and it seems as if everything reminds him of her. Even the things his girlfriend Liv does reminds him of his best friend, he’s found himself comparing the two.

He doesn’t mean any harm honestly, just sometimes Liv will do something and his mind will go back to how Y/N would do the same thing just differently. For instance, Liv is on her way to bring him some tea in hope it’ll cheer him up at least just a little bit, Harry’s excited to try her tea. It’s one of his favorite drinks if he’s being honest. A knock comes from the door and he tells his roommate that he’ll get it, he’s already standing up and making his way to the door. When he opens it, Liv is standing in front of him sporting a bright smile and happiness.

“Hi, hon. I brought you that tea I was talking about!” She says and he smiles back, a little hesitant but excited nonetheless.

“Thanks, babe. Come on in, I hope you don’t mind that my roommate’s here.” He says and she shakes her head, his mate’s never been a problem with Liz, the one thing he notices is different from Y/N. Liz is more natural hanging around in the boys’ dorm whereas Y/N tended to not want to come over. Something about the smell and how loud the halls are, he doesn’t blame her most of the time though. Liz walks over and makes herself comfortable on the arm rest of the chair Harry was sitting at before, ushering him over excitedly. He chuckles as he makes his way over, reminding him of how Y/N would act whenever she’s excited to show him something.

He sits down and she hands the cup to him, it's warm but not too hot, he’s assuming the walk here helped cool it down. He takes a hesitant sip, he doesn’t want to take too big of a sip just in case he doesn’t like it. It’s good, sweet but still has that leafy taste and it flows nicely. It’s not overwhelming with any of the tastes and it’s just.. good. He smiles as he stares at the cup, his mind wandering back to Y/N. He always enjoyed her tea, she always managed to create the perfect balance and temperature. Y/N makes the perfect tea, will always be better than anyone’s, better than Liz’s.

He shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N right now though, so he blinks twice to clear his head and turns to his girlfriend.

“It’s good, thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me, I know you didn’t have to.” He says and she just laughs.

“I know, I wanted to, H. It’s no big deal really.” She says. He feels bad, ever since he and Y/N stopped talking as much, he’s found himself comparing the way Liz cooks and acts to Y/N.

Y/N likes to wear more cozy clothes unless it’s actually going out, where she feels like she needs to impress someone whereas Liz tends to dress up all the time. She’s always dressed in nice looking clothes and adorned in jewelry and smells nice. He likes that Y/N always felt comfortable with him and didn’t feel the need to impress him, not that he doesn’t like that Liz puts forth all this effort into her looks because he does. Whenever he and Liz go to watch a movie, she normally wants to watch something with romance but occasionally she’ll tell Harry to turn on whatever he wants if she’s coming over for a nap.

Y/N usually put on a comedy movie and sometimes they ended up being a rom-com but they always alternate days so Harry can feel included. He misses that, he misses Y/N. He’s not sure if they’ll ever talk again, he thinks her dramatics are rubbing off on him. He just hates the absence of her, he never realized just how happy she made him feel. She made him feel warm and sometimes he’s got those silly butterflies whenever he looks at her, but he just assumed that was normal for how close of a friendship they had. He never realized just how much time they spent together, how special she was and how different from his other love interests he’s had.

But he’s never considered Y/N as a love interest, she’s always just been his best friend. Sure enough, he did like to flirt with her a little bit whenever he was drunk but that was only because he liked seeing her all flustered. He thought it was cute and it was hard for him to get her like that. Yeah, he loved her but in the same way friends love each other, it’s normal for them to say it before leaving or just because. They’ve always been just friends, the best of friends and that’s how they were supposed to be.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, a soft touch to bring him out of his mind, he’s been doing that almost daily.

“You’re thinking about her again, Haz. Can’t we just hang out without her taking your attention? This is good, it allows you to be your own person now.” Liz says sweetly, genuinely. She tries to be supportive, she really does but there’s just so long you can watch your boyfriend be heartbroken over a girl, especially one he never dated. They haven’t even been dating long, but they had only been dating for a couple of days before Harry told her she had to meet his best friend. Ever since Y/N shut the door on them and he had ushered her back so he could try to talk to his best friend and figure everything out with tears beginning to fill his eyes, it’s just been a repeat of the same days over and over again.

- - - -

When Harry walks the halls, he can’t help but to hope that he’ll be able to see Y/N on her way to class. He admits that it’s weird not walking her to class and being around her, it was their norm for quite a while. A part of him hopes that when he sees her that she’s just as miserable as him but he feels bad about that, he wants her to be happy. He wants to see that she’s doing well and that she’s happy. He always loved to see her happy, it just looked so good on her. So when he sees her sporting a bright smile as she talks with two people he hasn’t seen before, it makes his heart skip a beat and hurt a little at the same time. He’s happy that she’s doing well, he really is, it just hurts that he’s not the cause of the bright smile on her face.

He hopes that she’ll look over here so he can wave, just a small acknowledgment would hold him over he thinks. The halls are crowded and loud, he can’t help but to sigh as he accidentally bumps into someone. She always had this magnetic aura to her, always had his gaze being pulled to her. Ever since she called for a break, she’s all he’s ever been able to think about, the main thing he looks at and for. He wants even the smallest attention from her, it helps the pain in his heart.

He watches as her head turns just the slightest and their eyes meet, a warm feeling enveloping Harry as he smiles and waves at her. She just gives him the same smile she’s always given him, warm, friendly and loving, and waves back. The pain goes away leaving a happy feeling in his chest, he doesn’t feel bad about bumping into students in the hall. He watches as she walks away before making his way to his own class.

- - - -

Y/N doesn’t miss Harry as much as she thought she would. That’s a lie, she misses him terribly but after a couple of days moping and several streams of tears shed, she thinks she’s doing okay. He stays on her mind but she’s able to tune those memories out by doing the activities she likes. She joined some book club on campus and made a couple of friends that enjoy some of the same stuff she does, which is such a relief. While Harry listened and tried his best to participate in things she enjoyed but some stuff he just never got into the way she did.

The past week she’s been attending the book club and talking about the books they’re reading, she’s cut back on some of the stuff she used to do. She dropped out of two of her classes that she did just for fun and stopped volunteering every week to give herself more time to relax. She walks with them to class when she can, and they talk on the phone sometimes. She’s happy for the most part, happier than she thought she would be.

Don’t get her wrong, she still gets upset over the fact that Harry isn’t around all of the time, it’s usually late at night or early in the morning when she misses him the most. She misses him when his favorite song plays and when she sees him in the hallway. She feels bad then, seeing him all heartbroken and moping around. She’s never seen him so down, and she wishes she never said anything to begin with in those moments. She hates the fact that he’s heartbroken over her.

She’s happy for the break, as much time as the two spent together, the break allows her a chance to know who she is outside of Harry. She’s found ways to cope with this ache for him, playing songs he’s never heard before distracts her from thinking of him. Finding new books to read, new shows to watch. Not letting her look at him for too long whenever they pass each other in the halls, hide his clothes (minus the one hoodie she sleeps

in, she can’t bear to part with it because after all it’s not a complete end to the friendship.

She spends a little (a lot) of time telling herself that just being friends is okay, her feelings will go away and they’ll go back to being best friends. She knows they won’t go back to being where they were before she confessed, but hopefully it’ll be somewhat the same as before. She hopes with everything in her that she’ll be able to get over her feelings for him in a reasonable time, and doesn't want to drag this out any longer than what’s needed. She’ll remind herself when she starts thinking of him randomly, when she sees a picture of them in her phone. They always should’ve been best friends, nothing more and nothing less. That’s how the universe wanted them to be.

Everything was fine the way they were, now she has to get over her feelings for him in order to get him back. She sees him everywhere it seems, hard to avoid him even though she doesn’t necessarily want to, in the halls at school or passing by on the sidewalks. She’s nice to him, doesn’t want to make him feel even more upset. She can feel his eyes on her every time, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck before she turns around to face him.

She’s met with the same hurt expression, his eyes full of emotion and telling her how much he misses her. He waves subtly as if he doesn’t think she’ll see it, won’t want to see it but of course she does. She always sees it, how could she not see it when anytime they’re in proximity of each other gems all she’s able to look at. Of course she waves, even gives him a warm smile, one that has and always will be reserved just for him. She still wants to be friendly with him, to keep that door open for the two of them and their friendship.

They don’t really talk other than saying hi as they pass one another in the halls, or if they happen to need to copy notes. They got partnered once after everything, a sense of awkwardness filled the air between them and Y/N hated it. Hated that she felt like she didn’t know what to talk about, didn’t know what limits were with this weird boundary set by her. She feels like she should know, she should’ve known since she was the one who drew the line.

Their conversations were awkward and pointed, pain lingering in their voices as they mentally decided not to talk about anything personal. It’s better that way honestly, it keeps her from breaking and allowing him back when she knows she’s not ready. The wall built between them shows her just how much he’s hurting, shows her how much she hurt him. She never meant to hurt him, she knew breaking it off would cause a toll on him. She never thought it would be as bad as it is, never expected to see the bags forming under his eyes.

She never expected him to be so…torn up about it, to cave in on himself and go quiet. She can feel his eyes on her all of the time, and can see whenever he fights back tears. She watches as Liz tries to cheer him up, hugs him and runs her fingers through his hair. She watches as Liz brings him cups of whatever drink is in them, watches as he thanks her with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. She thought that maybe he’d continue partying like he always did, ignore her or something of the sort. He should be giving all of his attention to Liz, not moping on about losing her. His mind just always seems to be elsewhere, his gaze is always sad and unfocused.

- - - -

Two months later the two are doing just fine on their own. Y/N found out from a classmate that’s on Harry’s soccer team that Harry had broken up with Liz about a month ago. They wouldn’t say why they broke up and Y/N wasn’t going to be the one to ask. The two of them have gotten more friendly with one another, there’s no awkwardness whenever they’re paired up and they’ll sometimes sit together at lunch. Y/N thinks she’s able to be his friend again, and doesn't get the intense butterflies in her stomach whenever she looks at him.

She doesn’t want to kiss him as much as she used to, although the urge still comes up whenever she thinks he’s being the cutest boy ever. She decides to bring it up as they sit together during lunch.

“Hey, Harry?” She asks and he hums in response to her.

“I think I’m ready to be your friend again.” She asks and watches as his face lights up. His eyes brighten and a huge smile appears on his face.

“Really?” His voice is full of excitement and she smiles as she nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” He immediately wraps her in a hug and she melts into it.

“I missed you, honey.” He says and she smiles as she responds.

“I missed you too, Haz.” He squeezes her tighter, as if he wants to remember the feeling of her body pressed against his.

“Those three months without you were absolutely horrible. I want to apologize again for leading you on unintentionally, but these three months have shown me something.” He says as he pulls away.

She stares at him confused, he’s already apologized numerous times so she’s not sure what else needs to be said.

“What’s that?” She asks and he smiles.

“I can’t imagine a life without you by my side. I missed you so much and hated not being able to just come over and talk to you. I like you. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner and I know it’s a terrible time to say it now that you’re back in my life. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but if you do I’d love to ask you out and take you out properly.” He says and she almost wants to scream.

She spent so much time getting over him and now he just wants to spring his feelings on her now? She thinks the whole situation is absolutely absurd and the two of them have terrible timing of their feelings. She sighs tiredly as she stares at him.

“When did you figure this out, you dummy?” She asks and he shakes his head, as if he’s in disbelief.

“Uh like a month and a half ago, I think? I’m not quite sure when exactly it happened. All I know I spent my whole relationship with Liz comparing her to you and I missed you entirely too much to ever risk losing you again. The whole like high school years up until three months ago, we acted like a couple unknowingly. I know we just labeled it best friends, but normal best friends don’t act like we did. I’m sorry once again,” Harry says as he watches her in hopes he’ll be able to read her.

She just smiles softly at him, her eyes so full of emotions that it’s hard to read which ones are in them.

“You better be glad my feelings for you didn’t go away completely. Yes you can take me out, Harry. It’s okay, I’ve missed you too.” She says and immediately his hands make his way to her face and he slowly begins to move closer. He wants to allow her time to say no, to change her mind but it never comes and he smiles briefly before their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. A kiss so full of love and warmth, making up for all the years missed and tears she cried unknowingly. It fills both of them with happiness as she giggles into the kiss and pulls away.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” She asks and he nods.

“Baby, you can call me anything you want now,” He says and she laughs, a mischievous flickers passes through her eyes.

“Even my best friend?” He immediately shakes his head and laughs.

“Anything but that.”

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

I see you doing BEAUTIFUL soul soothing slice of life Zack stuff.

I ask for Zack first because..I'm weird but please do feel free to include the firsts and HOJO!, BECAUSE I've never seen anyone do hojo love, it's wild!

What,would zack do for his lover having a migraine? How would he comfort/cuddle/spoil...

Cook special food? Pet names? Home remedies?

THANK YOU! LMAO I’ve been told I’m the most down bad individual people have met due to my love of Hojo. 10/10 would tie that man to the cross and do my thing with him.

I love this ask cause I’m prone to migraines. I have also tortured myself trying to make them stop. I lock myself in the closet to get away from any sounds and light these days. Good god I’m probably too eager to write Hojo’s.

____________________________________________

Zack “put em in a pack” Fair

I’m certain you have to thoroughly explain what a migraine is to him. The first time you said you had a migraine he continued doing everything at his usual “Zack Volume” fuckin loud. Shiva bless his heart but he lacks brain cells. You told him to quiet down and now he won’t stop whispering everything, that man will whisper in uppercase from the other room.

Now that he understands, he must make a routine for you. Yes yes, that man headed straight to Moogle Search to look up home remedies. It would turn into Zack’s first crime against humanity. Making you a cup of turmeric and ginger based tea, accompanied by an aftertaste so foul you weren’t sure you wanted to even ask what he put in it. As hard as you try, your face says it all and now he’s got the sad puppy eyes, “but baby I really tried.” In that cute pouty voice of his, you know the one he’s still whispering. Please let him know you appreciate the effort but not the attempt at murder.

If there is any medicine that helps relive your pain he’ll have it on hand. He even keeps a supply at his own home, going as far as to carry it around when you’re together because Zack knows they randomly sprout up. He’s learned “the squint” as he calls it. Claiming whenever a migraine is creeping in you start squinting at everything. Awn, cute boy is catching on to the cues. After you tell him about visual impairment/eye pain that can accompany your migraines he’s back on the internet finding ways to relive that too. (Pls Zack it’s not gonna help just cuddle)

After months of trying numerous concoctions Zack would attempt to make you once again, Shiva bless his heart. Despite you telling him in advance, he finally concludes these do not help and he can't really do much about it, it made him feel a bit useless. “ ‘cause if I can’t help my baby, what am I doing?” Telling Zack that everything else he does is perfect when he’s trying to make you feel better. He provides you lots of cuddles, only leaving the bed when he’s certain you’re asleep, though it’s only for necessities. Zack very much prefers to keep you against him as long as humanly possible. You’re his "little kitty", you know the rules with that. If the cat lays on you, you do not move.

Makes sure to turn off any lights, closing all of the curtains/blinds to keep as much light out as possible. Cooking is questionable with him but he can make some of your favorite snacks as long as they’re simple. Anything that he can get you from the store? He’s going to make sure it’s in your possession, even if he has to go completely out of his way to get whatever you want. Nearly every time Zack goes out to get snacks/favorite foods, he brings back a plushie. You have such a large army of plushies that you have to beg him to stop bringing them. Gaia, he even brought you a chibi Zack for when he’s on missions. (You love it, how could you not)

Zack also recognizes sometimes migraines make you nauseous, even causing you to vomit at times. No matter, it doesn’t bother him at all. He’s going to make sure your hair is out of the way, clean you back up, carry you to bed and as you sleep, he’s looking at more home remedies. One thing I can imagine him able to cook is a few types of soups Angeal taught him, to at least get something light on your stomach.

Sephiroth- pillow fort part 2? (he wasn’t allowed much time to be a kid, so he enjoys doing childish activities with you)

This is the man for the job, can’t get your surroundings dark enough? Sephiroth shall begin the construction. He now realizes why you have a million pillows, even taking the pillows and cushions off of your couch to make it more comfortable. Layering blankets and sheets to ensure it’s completely dark in there. He’s ready for his cat house to cuddle you. Stays awake until you fall asleep, it's not really anything new, he's just significantly more adamant about it when you aren't feeling well. Seems a bit sad when you take his fort down due to his "hard work and dedication." It's okay, he knows it can't stay up forever, he'll be able to build another soon.

You’re already overly spoiled by Sephiroth, to which he’d say “there’s never a such thing as too much for you.” He's going to try and find you the best doctors around, not affiliated with Shinra of course. He doesn't want them coming anywhere near you. He knows medicine won't always help, but you know what does? His dick. His outstanding ability to take care of you. Forehead kisses for days. Will scoop you in his lap, holding you until you start dozing off. I don't think this one can cook either, but he'll attempt making your favorite comfort foods until he cooks it exactly to your liking. "nothing less than perfection for you".

He'll go out of his way to buy blackout curtains for his own home. Luckily Sephiroth is extremely quiet, half of the time you don't even know when he arrives. It's like he materializes out of thin air. Due to this you don't have to really ever worry about loud sounds. Finding his voice to be soothing you ask him to read to you until you fall asleep. He's a bit awkward about it at first, but he gets use to it and comes to love doing so.

Angeal (the healer)

Oh yea, you're getting super spoiled by this one. He's putting on his "best chef" apron and getting to work. Not before he tucks you into bed, kissing your forehead and tucking you in, he'll even fluff the pillows. If you like having background sound or really are in the mood to watch something, he has memorized shows/movies that have a minimal amount of ungodly bright scenes. Even turns the brightness down all the way, going as far to adjust the color and of course lowering the volume.

Always asks what kind of food you think your stomach can handle just in case it's one of those nausea inducing migraines. Can make anything you ask or he'll find recipes that are supposed to accommodate your migraines. He's not sure if the home remedies work, but at least you're always happy with each meal he makes you.

Once you're fed and comfortable, Angeal is on his way to wrap you up in his arms. Loves it when you climb on him and rest your head against his chest because you told him his "heartbeat makes me feel better." He's read in an article that pressure points can help alleviate migraines. He has no clue which pressure points to target so he's going to give you a full body massage in hopes that you feel better. hands of god you'll be feeling something alright

Also goes out of his way to buy blackout curtains or anything that may help him keep his home dark when the light is too much. Buys those little motion lights that are dim so when you walk into a room you'll be able to see without it feeling like a flashbang. Angeal doesn't make too much noise either so sound is also not a problem with him. Despite that he gives you a hushed apology any time he thinks he did something too loud.

Genesis (please don't recite Loveless, jk he'd annoy me but i'd love it)

Recites Loveless to you in a hushed tone as you fall asleep on his chest. Genesis is more than willing to read any piece of literature you want, only if you make a special request. He's always going to pull out Loveless by default.

Runs a bath for you, adding a eucalyptus based epsom salt and bubbles to help you relax in hopes to ease some of that tension.(something with a soft scent as strong smells can be too much). "Of course he's aware of your sensitivity to light, in turn lighting a couple of candles to add his romantic flare. He's taking these baths with you, without a doubt. Massaging your back and gently doing the same for your neck. He has an experts touch, that man will make you melt like butter. Loves soaking with you pressed against him, dries you off and tucks you into bed.

This one is also a cook, maybe not as good as Angeal, but definitely not as bad as Sephiroth. Knows your favorite comfort foods and will go out of his way to make it for you as you hide in bed.

Manages to find the best medicine. You're surprised it actually helps. After asking where Genesis got it from you find out he broke into Hojo's lab after a discussion between the two about what was the best treatment for a migraine. Says he stole them because he didn't want the medicine altered as most of his medicines are.

Hojo (my eyes are so far back in my head right now, im excited)

The first time you stumbled into his lab, all but screaming at him to cut of the lights he just stares at you like a madman. "Do you not seeing me working?" I mean, sure you did, once your eyes finally adjust you can see something or someone(????) cut open on a surgical table. Great, migraine increases tenfold.

When he finally finished whatever absurd thing he was doing to that poor carcass he comes to examine you. Maybe you should have gone home instead. Shining that goofy fuckin flashlight directly in your eyes. You tried slapping it out of his hands to which he rolls his eyes as you completely miss his hand stating that "it's a pupil test, I have to check for abnormalities." to which you can't help but tell Hojo that he is the only abnormality.

Injects you with god knows what, but hey, the migraine surprisingly vanished. The next time you come into his lab due to a migraine, he immediately takes into account that you were just here a few days ago over the same thing. Once again taking you back through those oh so annoying examinations before prescribing you some pills. When you question what the pills were he chuckles, telling you in a condescending tone that "you wouldn't remember how to say it even if you tried." With that he tells you to come back after all pills are gone so he can see how you're doing.

Your next visit with Hojo will teach you to never tell him something is wrong with you again. When you began taking the medicine the migraines were easing up, but now it's like they're worse. This time he gives you a different type of medicine, now you're just sleepy. All will be just fine, when you wake up you won't even know he's been poking around your brain.

****************************************************

I’m a bit sad I forgot to put in the random bouts of pure confusion migraines can put you through. I’ll never forget grabbing my airpods and I was pretty certain it was a bar of soap. It wasn’t. I don’t even know how I thought something that small was soap, or how I tried to wash my hands for so long with them

[8-rae-rae-8]

I just read your Graves Trick and now im sad :(

I now humbly request platonic Graves + Price Trick or Treat (it BETTER BE A TREAT 😡🫵/lh)

Your fav little CoD Agere anon

-Bonny anon

I'm good at tricks okay but I guess I can give you a treat smh (/pos)

I can't tell if it comes off as shippy but they're just friends <3 (what does romance even look like) idc if "love" comes off as shippy, he's british

700ish words 🫡

'Gentle' wasn't a trait Phillip Graves familiarized himself with. It's always damaged egos and bruised knuckles. He's a good commander, he really is, but unlike the support he gave his men, he never sought out any for himself. He hadn't wanted to before.

And then suddenly everything felt like it flipped around for him. Conflicting orders, dangerous deals, untimely loss. He needed out. Just for a little while. His Shadows woke up to nothing but empty space.

Though, on his whiteboard, it just says 'behave yourselves, i'll be back'. Like everything was normal and his sudden change in demeanor meant nothing.

Phillip Graves is used to cold. Cruel hands dismissing his every need until they weren't brought up again.

So when his shoulders finally fall and he steps into somewhere safe, his mind doesn't know whether to react with comfort or uncertainty. Wondering when or if a loud voice would boom over him, or a hand would strike. But nothing ever happened.

It's warm here. Away from prying eyes, and cold glances. There's no orders to take, punishments for his behavior.

"Phil," A familiar voice beckons him close, "How long?" John Price asks as Graves' brows furrow in light frustration. How long had it been since the last time he came here? So very far from his men, just to make everything fade away for just a few days. How long since he'd let himself breathe?

"Too long." It's always the correct answer.

"Hot chocolate, tea, or coffee?" There weren't any questions that needed asking. Not with that glossy, exhausted look in Phil's eyes. He needs to be away from whatever shouted in his head, and John could do that.

"First one, capt'n." Graves' chest heaves as he takes a seat in a plush chair.

"It's John right now, love." Said with all the gentleness in the world. God, did he deserve it? Did he deserve the time and the care? Anyone, anyone but him, always.

"That'd feel wrong, y'know.." The commander sighs, rubbing his eyes. He curls around himself, just a bit.

"You're here for a break, Phil, take the break." Price insists. On the other side of the room, he glances at him, not needing to look as he pours milk into a cup for Phil.

"There's too many problems, John, and coverin' my own ass ain't fixing any of 'em."

"I know, but you came for a break, yeah?" Phil nods. "So take a break." A mug of hot chocolate gets pushed into his cold hands. Had his teeth been chattering the whole time?

It's hard to argue the more he finally lets himself sink into the chair, the warmth on his ice cold hands soothing a pain he didn't recognize was there.

"You're alright, love." Take your time.

John sits on the arm of the chair (well, leans on it). A warm, calloused hand brushes through his hair. He can't help but lean into it. It's safe here. No matter how much he repeats it in his head, he still worries whenever he first comes in.

There's someone to catch him when he falls. Right here, there always is. God forbid anything happen.

Graves leans his head against John's shoulder, steadily sipping his hot chocolate until it's empty. What had been jagged, shallow breaths, became steady, calm inhales and exhales. The sugar in the hot chocolate should've been able to keep him awake for just a little while, but damnit, he can't help but close his eyes.

He doesn't really hear the gentle words Price says to him as he drifts off, but he feels a jacket around his shoulders, and the warmth of a blanket on his lap. He'll take a break, just for a little while.

[givemea-dam-break]

hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3

a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao

warnings: minor injury detail gn reader

Perfect - Anthony Lockwood

The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.

There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"

"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."

"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."

"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."

He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."

You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."

"Ah, I'll cope."

"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."

"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."

If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.

The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.

He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.

"You got this from a glass door, right?"

You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."

His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.

He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.

For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.

"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."

He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"

"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Do."

But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.

"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."

His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.

And, as if having read your mind, he does.

If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.

"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.

You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.

"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"

He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.

"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.

"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.

It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.

It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.

"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."

You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"

The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.

That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.

You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.

"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"

Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"

You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.

Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.

Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."

"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.

"Well, if you're so sure -"

Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.

[oonajaeadira]

wip wednesday whenever.

LOL. You know, I was surprised when @moonlitbirdie tagged me. I was really starting to believe people forgot I used to write things and it brought me a fair amount of joy to be tagged.

And then @grogusmum. And @the-blind-assassin-12. And now @insomniamamma. I know you probably don't mean it this way, but it feels like the lot of you just invited me to tea for an intervention to say "YOU GOT THIS. JUST WRITE ANYTHING. WE DON'T CARE WHAT. REJOIN THE PARTY."

I love it here.

Anyway, thank you, friends. I'm taking it as an encouragement. <3

I'm about to get my feet swept out from under my ass by the General tonight, so let's have some fluffy Fink x Farrah before I lose myself completely to Roman lust and longing....

There’d been two full moons since Farrah came to the island and she adjusted fast to their strange way of life. She wasn’t as hard driven by hunger as some of the other animals and gained from their talks that was because food had been more scarce where she was from and she was patient when it came to waiting for meals. Fish and shellfish had already been a big part of her diet. 

So she must have come from another island…but Fink couldn’t be sure. Anytime he’d ask more about it, she’d change the subject or go quiet. And she was very very good at being quiet. Probably had to learn that with fur like hers. It’s a wonder she made it to maturity without proper camouflage. Silence and speed would be her only options.

Except when she laughed. She laughed loud and high, almost a cry when she was really going. Farrah was easy to amuse and he made sure to do so whenever he had the chance. He wanted to see her happy and settled here. With him.

And he just liked to hear her laugh. Nobody laughed at his jokes like she did.

“That is the look of a lovelorn fox,” Paddler dryly declared one day, turning away to scrape away at a massive trunk with his crooked incisors. Fink had just cracked a joke at a squirrel’s expense–and not a clever one either, something about the size of nuts–and Farrah had laughed before bounding off after a butterfly. The beaver’s remark made Fink realize that he was wearing a dopey grin and he shook it off, but not before Paddler added, “Be direct. Build her a dam to show how you feel.”

“I’m not going to give her a dam.”

“Ha! Very good! I see what you did there. But I’m telling you, fine fellow. We may be swimming among the trees as a pike in the waters of the river, but the ladies still love a good bit of worked wood. You have that home–a good design, said because, as you will remember it is mine–but a little riverside palace of her own? Eh? What a treat.”

Fink rolled his eyes, playing cavalier. “It’s not like that. We’re–” over in the near clearing, Farrah’s fur sparkled white in the sinking sun, her head tilting side to side as she watched two butterflies dancing, trying to pick up on their whispers, quiet and still….and beautiful. “--friends.”

“Ha!” Paddler choked on a laugh. “You fool no one, sir. Just give her a treasure and be done with it. I’m telling you a dam always does the job, but I suppose you must do as your ilk do.” 

“Is that why there's no Mrs. Paddler?”

“Oh ho! I have had my salacious share of affairs, I assure you. My dams are well-given and wide spread. I am focusing on other projects at the moment,” he boasted with a grand gesture towards his gnarled tree, and turned back to his gnawing.

--That Awooo Inside You, Pt. 2.

tagging: @brandyllyn @littlemisspascal @nicolethered @missredherring @something-tofightfor

[freakymcnastys]

“possibly in michigan” a creepp book - headcannons

general headcannons:

slenderman is british.

despite what people might think the mansion is way bigger on the inside

it has its own theater, bar, hell even a convenience store, no one actually knows how the store gets stocked

ben is too scared to go down there bc of that

the slender brothers come over every thanksgiving and christmas but offender is limited to the living room and dining room…

sally FORCES jeff to dress up for tea parties

jeff cuts his own hair but is surprisingly good at it

thinking about how smile dog is basically jeffs therapy dog :(((

jack has def tried to eat jeffs kidneys but give up cuz jeff woke up 💔💔

toby is an AVID game theory/matpat stan like he loves watching everything matpat is in so when he announced his retirement….lets say it was ROUGH.

slender puts all of sally’s drawings on the fridge and when they isn’t enough room he would rather buy another fridge then get rid of them

masky is like the stressed out older sibling 🤷‍♀️

ben has drank paint.

has a snapchat gc where they send each other snaps

whenever slender and jeff (or anyone for that matter) talk/argue slender has to bend at a 90 degree angle 😭😭

devon’s headcannons:

definitely butt dials people and scares the shit outta them 💀

going along with that devon totally prank calls people with ben and is like “is ur refrigerator running” 😭

her and jack watch reality tv shows (love and hiphop, dr phil, kardashins, etc)

devon’s fav movie is donnie darko…😁

she always sends jack funny tiktoks while he sends her reels

her chainsaws name is jellybean !

sometimes when she goes out with the proxys she brings fake slender pages (saying stuff like “bitchless” and the entire bee movie script) and hangs them up (but slender always finds them and yells at her)

her fav slenderbrother is probably trenderman

PERSONALLY i think that like the demon and jack are two different ppl so like whenever ‘the beast’ gets out it’s not rlly jack? yk?

so one time ‘the beast’ was fed up with jack actually letting himself feel feelings for devon that he brought devon to the tree where she got hung, to kill her 😁 but dw he failed but jack felt bad after ☹️👎

has told hoodie to ‘turn that frown upside down’….

goes up to masky and gets up real close and whispers… “i know what you are..” and just walks away..

maxine’s headcannons:

isn't quite used to newer slang so she still talks how people in the 1920s did and nobody really understands her that well...

she hates her cellphone and WILL NOT use it unless it's direly needed.

she definitely has a record collection but it's all jazzy and "old-timey" music and she does not let anyone else near her records or her record player

she would teach ben how to ballroom dance and then force him to have dancing sessions with her because her favorite thing to do when she was human was to dance at parties

slenderman FOR SURE banned smoking in the house but maxine is allowed to break that rule so she waltzes around the house with her huge cigarette holder bullying jeff cause he definitely wants to smoke.

she generally dislikes getting help with wounds and stuff because of all the malpractice that was preformed on her when she was human

the phantom of the opera (1925) is her absolute favorite movie and one day slender comes back from the store with the 2004 version and she literally falls in love with him right at that moment

she's like your grandma that 1. doesn't know how to work her phone (or tv or anything) and 2. says things that she thinks mean one thing and they actually don't... like for example....maxine: im sending lols jack: maxine someone died...why are you laughing out loud... maxine: oh i thought that meant lots of love :( jack: oh my fucking god bro

the effects of her lobotomy pop up from time to time when she's doing stuff so sometimes she loses the ability to focus and kind of "dumbs down" because people who are lobotomized often lose their higher levels of intellectuals and then she loses the ability to emotionally respond so slender has to help her out and keep an eye on her cause she might do something dumb. :(( then once she comes back she feels so bad that slender had to basically babysit her and he feels worse cause how could anyone do his love like that

IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS BUT- maxine and slenderman compliment eachother so well. he's a gentleman and she's a ladylike woman and they just...fit perfectly together

her favorite modern (ish) movie is the shining cause it reminds her of the good old days and she would be like "ah yes i remember when people would kill at parties" and everyone else is like "what"

her 1920s brain loves coloring books cause she's probably never been stimulated via colors so she has a bunch of coloring books and people come over and are like "slender i didn't know you found a child" and he's all like "oh no that's just maxine"

i think sometimes she forgets she doesn't live alone and she will walk out of her room in her underwear and is like "oh great heavens my bad gs"

- love always, kat + devina <3

[kfkr1ze]

[002-A18] wallflower

Summary — ✈︎Kaede asks a sulking Ushio about his progress on his work, but he doesn’t give him an answer. Muneuji gives him a hint on how to conquer Ushio, but…

Characters— ✈︎ Ushio, Muneuji, Sakujiro

Location: Otomari Chuuzaemon Inn in Shodoshima

Kaede: Muneuji-kun, how is Ushio-kun’s progress…?

Muneuji: If I asked him, he likely wouldn’t tell me anything.

Kaede: I see. Then it’s probably better if I asked him directly.

Muneuji: I’m not sure if that will do any good. You wouldn’t get a good answer. Because Uu-chan… I mean, Ushioーー

Ushio: My stomach reeaaally hurts so I’m going to bed.

I can’t even give a proper status update on my progress because it huuuuurts.

Kaede: (H-He’s just going to pretend to sleep…!?)

Ushio: … It seems pretty loud in here, so I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. I’m gonna find somewhere else to sleep. Bye.

Kaede: ……

Muneuji: Ushio’s the type of person that when someone tells him that he “needs” to do something, he doesn’t want to do it anymore.

He probably feels like that right now.

I know that very well, so it feels like something that’s beyond even me.

Kaede: I see…

I get that, I remember what it’s like to  be at that age.

Whenever my teachers or my parents tried to dictate something in my life, I felt like I had to rebel against them. I had times like that as well…

Muneuji: No, Uu-chan’s parentsーー

…… No, nevermind. 

Kaede: Huh?

Muneuji: I apologize. I almost said something I shouldn’t have said.

Please forget about it. 

… As an apology, I can tell you a bit of a tip on how to conquer Uu-chan.

He gets weak against anything about “ReiOu[1]”.

Kaede: Ray…Oh…? I haven’t heard that word at all before… What in the world is that?

Muneuji: I also don’t know much about the details.

I only heard him say that it’s something that’s from the most “fire[2]” genre.

Kaede: Huh……

(Fire… maybe it has something to do with cooking?

Ah, maybe it’s like a bonfire or the name of a type of campfire equipment?)

(But I can’t imagine Ushio-kun as the type of person to enjoy the outdoors very much…)

Let’s search it up online.

… Huuh!? Nothing came up.

Muneuji: That’s strange.

Maybe it’s something that’s being filtered out from searches.

Kaede: (Reiou… I’m probably going to lose sleep wondering what that is…)

Location: Beach in Shodoshima

Boyfriend: Wah, did you make this bento for me!? These sandwiches look soo delicious!

Girlfriend: I thought they would be just perfect for a beach date! Ufufu. Make sure you eat a bunch! I brought some tea too.

Boyfriend: It’s SO delicious! You’re the best ever! I wuv[3] you!

Girlfriend: No you’re the best! I wuv you more!

Ushio: God, all this wuvey dovey talk is so annoying… Of course there’s people like this when other people have bigger shit to worry about. It must be nice to have such an easygoing life.

(I thought I could get rid of the egg by throwing it out to the ocean, but the place is just crowded with noisy couples who don’t have a care in the world… Ugh, this was a bad idea)

Whatever. 

I just gotta hurry up and get rid of it alreadーー

(Egg tapping)

( …… What is that sound…?)

(Egg tapping)

(I think something is tapping… against the shell?)

… Ugh, it feels so creepy and disgusting, I can’t handle it… I feel like it’s gonna explode the moment I take it out of the bag… This is the worst. 

I wish I could just throw it away while it’s still in the bag, but…

Boyfriend: Noo, I wuv you sooooo much more〜!

Girlfriend: That’s not true! ‘Cuz I wuv you the mooost!

Ushio: Tch……

(There’s way more people here than I thought there’d be, and this bag belongs to Muneuji’s little sister, so I can’t just throw it away…)

Ughh, what the fuck do I do here?

Boyfriend: Ahahaha, I’m the luckiest guy in the whooole world!

Ushio: ……

Girlfriend: Geez, that’s my line! Ufufu!

Ushio: … Can these idiots stuck in fantasy land just disappear already?

Are their heads just filled with pink cotton candy instead of a brain?

Boyfriend & Girlfriend: Ahahahaha!

???: Ahahahaha!

Ushio: (Ah.)

(I’m sinking.)

[4]

Ushio: (I keep sinking down.)

Classmate A: Y’know, that guy…

Classmate B: Who?

Classmate A: That pleasant guy. [5]

Classmate B: Oh right.

Ushio: (Even thought it’d be so fucking annoying to sink right now…)

Classmate A: Even though his whole family died, he can still walk around with a smirk on his face.

Is he fucked in the head?

Classmate B: A normal person wouldn’t be able to smile after something like that.

Ushio: (Ah.)

Ushio: ……

(I sank all the way to the bottom.)

Location: Otomari Chuuzaemon Inn in Shodoshima

Kaede: Thank you for going shopping with me, Sakujiro-san!

Sakujiro: Please do not mind it, it was nothing exceptional.

Now, let us bring our bags inside.

Kaede: Yes! Let me just grab them…

………

Um, Sakujiro-san, have you seen it yet? The forecast for the day after tomorrow…

Sakujiro: Yes, the weather forecast. Of course I have checked it.

Kaede: What should we do…?

Sakujiro: There are times when you are trying to carry out something important, hardships like this will arise. 

Sakume will always keep a watchful eye over you as well as the students, Chief. 

Kaede: Right…

Ushio: ……

Kaede: Wah! You scared me!

Ushio-kun, I thought you were sleeping in your… room……

Ushio: ……

Kaede: (Ushio-kun, your eyes look glassy… Are you angry?)

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

Notes — ✈︎

ReiOu is a ship name. Muneuji spells is right with 礼王 , while Kaede misspells it using れいおう, which I translated as Rayoh and レイオウ again, which I chose to use Reiou, without the capitalization. But ReiOu is the correct way to say it. I’m just not capitalizing it whenever he spells it wrong LMFAO

The word here is “ツヨビ”which is slang for someone who’s a hardcore fan of something. It also means high heat. I tried to think of a word that could be used here, so I thought fire since it’s slang and could also be related to cooking. 

They’re using baby talk here. 

(For the alt text) The names in the GC aren’t in the image, but they’re in the reading logs. I’m not 100% about the spelling!

The term they’re using, 好青年, means “Good Young Man”, but it’s hard to really localize this well. Think like, someone is usually really mean so you sarcastically say they’re the nicest person ever. It’s supposed to be a nickname, but it was hard to come up with a nickname for him. So I just said pleasant guy since I think it can mean nice, but also sound bad when being sarcastic. 😭

[some-beans]

I’m in a mood babe. I gotta write, but I’d be hella inspired if you wrote like a hot MHA pro hero teacher Y/n (if its not too much both male and female, its okay if you only do one, no pressure!)

Just the pros thirsting 🧘🏾‍♀️

— Love you ⛹️���‍♀️

you got it babe 💃💃 imma do both

✎...pairing: pro heroes x pro hero!teacher!reader ✎...themes: chaos, pro heroes are down bad, seen as romantic ✎...notes: i want reader, reader is thick for both male and female bc i can, reader's quirk is up to your imagination, though reader teaches health, can you tell which characters are easier to write ✎...enjoy !!

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

gonna be real with y'all

a hot mess

like he's a highschooler giggling and kicking his feet

blushing and shit

i feel like it starts off as a crush from respect and slowly turns southwards when he manages to find you beaten to hell and back with your costume wrecked to shit

bc just like megan said, body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody

but also

women with muscles 💕💕

but besides that, i feel like due to how he constantly trained, all might legit has rizz ー with that ass ー but has no idea how to use it

also, with his skinny form, self-conscious baby 🥺

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

now, it takes him a lot longer to develop these feelings bc i kinda see all might as a ❛traditional man❜ but not in a religious way

like, in a sense he would do old fashion things to woo someone

anyway

like earlier, all might would have to be sat down by someone and have it told to his face that he finds the health teacher attractive

cuz god DAYUM you're yummy

your costume hugs and accentuates all of your muscles

especially your tiddies

definitely uses the excuse to work out with you just to see those muscles move

same goes when you help him out with his classes

that ass is muy caliente

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

the only chance he'd see you would be out on patrol or if it had something to do with shoto

however, after his divorce and now trying to rebuild his connection with his family, he does end up talking to you

this is bc shoto won't shut up about you to fuyumi or natsuo ー yes, he was eavesdropping

manages to catch you while on patrol

it was very awkward

manages to watch how you easily interact with kids

and how caring you are to shoto ー caring enough to make the boy smile

. . . why did his heart flutter??

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

same with the female reader, the only chance he'd see you would be out on patrol or if it had something to do with shoto

i feel like for a male reader, endeavour would have to build up respect for you before feelings ever get involved

but when you got hit with a quirk that made your costume melt

. . .

he can get behind the gay agender

totally doesn't use his power to ask for you to work on cases with him

totally not

ahem

if your costume happens to have a boobbie window, he will be staring

𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

y'all

this man right here, closeted simp

hands down

does all the small things that make your teacher workload easier

like he would organise your desk, make sure you have pens, coffee/tea/energy drink at the ready etc

present mic brought this up

he lost his loud noise privileges

anyway

as i said he will do anything for

like a n y t h i n g

. . . a tad bit yandere if you ask me, guys

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

definitely acts like a grumpy cat when you first meet

tends to be wearier of male pro heroes as they don't really have the best representation in the media and in his eyes

eyes you off whenever you're around

however

that broke when sneaked in the new kitten you got into work and let's just say aizawa is very interested

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐂

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

bashful, blushy and stumbling mess

may or may not have accidentally activated his quirk when he's around you

god, is just like when first got it

folds like an omelette when you smile or call him ❛honey❜

well, it could be any pet name, but that one just

*internal screaming ensues*

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

man is open to anything

look me in the eye and tell me this man hasn't drabbled in the fruit salad

tries to act suave and confident, but folds like origami whenever you smirk at him

y'all he turns into a puddle when you give him any attention

like, even a crumb

laps that shit up

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

yum yum

loves a strong, independent woman

thighs thighs thighs

wants them to be wrapped around her head

earmuffs forever

very vocal about you just destroying her life

and stepping on her

very big fan

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

yum yum part two: the electric boogaloo

sure, she's got all might's and vlad king's muscles to look at, but yours??

dear GOD

she just wants to

*chomp*

also

when his dick slaps when he walks, i shall listen when he talks™

epitome of that^^

ceo actually

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

down bad horrendously

mummy issues who??

now, considering how he grew up, has zero ideas of how to woo you besides using his natural bird instincts

which is very cute

especially if you're taller than him and he tries to make himself look bigger by puffing up his wings

swoons and almost cries when you show him gentle affection

that was a surprise and a half

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

down bad horrendously part two: the electric boogaloo

daddy issues who??

typically does the whole bromance thing that board line has everyone assuming you two are actually dating

he may have friend zoned himself for that in the beginning and does the arthur fist whenever he remembers that time in his life

has one of his feathers following you when you're on patrol just to make sure you're safe

even tho you kick ass and will most likely be fine

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐎

𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

fruit salad 🎵 yummy yummy 🎵 [ iyk where that's from, i love you ❤️ ]

flirting is 100% on

maximum rizz game

mirko is going make it known you're a tall of water and she's thirsty

will 100% be staring at your tiddies and thighs

also very much keeping her hands on you whenever she can

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

legit

looked you up and down, and said ❛aight❜

she can get behind it, but don't expect her to be a shy blushing mess

will be coming in strong and she will be jazzed you return the same energy

lowkey digs the height difference *cough cough size kink cough cough*

[lucy-dulap]

The downed human

< Previous _ Index _ Next >

"Good morning, child of Solomon." The blue haired doctor(?) greated Gamigin with a soft voice that hid excitment. He looked overjoyed to see Lucy waking up, but he still made sure that they wouldn't get hurt.

"Hey, hey, don't get up! You're in Paradise Lost, the country ruled by my big brother, his majesty Lucifer. Oh, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Gamigin." He spoke swiftly like he was trying to get Lucy caught up on the basics so he could get to the good part.

The excitment on display repeled Lucy. Who was this? Why were they still alive? They were supposed to be dead from 3 causes at this point. This Gamigin fella was too loud and the intensity of his voice was making them uncomfortable. Gamigin didn't seem to notice this and just stared at Lucy with a grin.

"What's a child of Solomon? No judging or anything. Nobody in Paradise Lost is trully a devil. I'm a dragon, his majesty Lucifer was an angel, Morax is... actually, I'm not sure what he is. The point still stands. I don't know what what that is and I'm so curious."

Lucy just stared back at him puzzled. "I'm... a human." Was all they could say before Gamigin gasped and squeeled so loudly that the sound of the bells of his staff were overided by them. Gamigin was jumping around the room before he tackled hug Lucy. "A HUMAN?! IN THE FLESH?! HERE?! I MUST TELL THE OTHERS!" But before he could rush out the door, Lucy grabbed him by the shirt to try and stop him. The last thing they needed was more Gamigins screaming in their ear.

"W-wait! I want to... um... tell the others myself." It was a dump argument, Lucy wanted to die not to have to introduce themselves to these peoples. Especially if their reactions ranged from sexual assault to yelling.

"I'll just bring them here and you can tell them you're a human." Gamigin might have been oblivious to Lucy's distress, but he wasn't as dump as they expected.

"No! Please just... don't. I don't want to." Lucy was too tired to try and argue or lie like they used to in the human world. Whenever people older than them would drag them to places they didn't want to be in or demanded they do or say something. Maybe if they just asked, they could make the devil understand.

"Ok. If you're not comfortable with it I won't make you. You look tired anyways, I must have exhausted you... sorry. You should try to go back to sleep. When I got you here you were dehydrated, malnurished, you had a fever of 39 and of course, you were unconcious." Gamigin puts a hand over their forhead. "Your temperature seems to have evened out, I'll go bring your evening meal. Be right back!"

What was this guy? Lucy had to pintch themselves to make sure that they weren't dreaming. Was he just... overexcited? A little quirky even during the day? He was just so... strange. Lucy couldn't help but be intrigued. Even their previous thoughts of death seemed to have died down, eclipsed by the sheer fascination for this strange dragon.

Gamigin breaks into the cafeteria and rushes to grab a platter. Even when he was running into people or stepping on their feet he would apologise and continue running around. The young dragon was known for being ditzy, but this rushing was strange for him. His brothers looked at him with worry, anxious that he might have substituted his tea with coffee again.

The three of them blocked his way and started questioning him. "What did you drink this morning?" "Why are you in such a hurry?" "How many patience do you have right now?" Gamigin who was practicly up and down unable to tell his brothers about his excitment. He just giggles and beats around the bush until he's able to move past them and hurry back upstairs.

"Brought you food! I don't know what humans eat so I got you a little bit of everything. I got you some smashed potatos, salad, tiny tomatoes, I think this is some sort of jelly. I'm not sure it's edible though... I don't get a lot of patients since I tend to get very attached to them and Lucifer doesn't want my reviving powers to get leaked to the other nations." As Gamigin was speaking he got a spoonfull of smashed potato and tasted it before extanding it to Lucy's mouth.

"My smashed potato racipe is much better, but I guess this one can work for now as well. I promise you that from tomorrow onward I'll feed you the way I feed all my patients! I'll probably ask Furfur to watch over you at night, though I won't tell him your secret! I'll go home and prepare some amazing food for tomorrow."

Lucy didn't even like smashed potatos that much, the food was cold and tasteless, but Gamigin had a way of making them lower their defences almost instantly. It was like watching a really good video while eating. He kept going on and on about this and that and they just listened with interest.

After they ate Gamigin left and told them they had to relax and he'd come over again for a night check-up. As he was about to leave the hospital to rush home, he got stopped by an intimidating figure.

"Gamigin, we have to talk." His voice was silky, beautiful but tired, like a man that's seen the world burn and now he was just going through the motions. Gamigin followed his friend happilly in his office.

"Brother Lucifer, you won't believe it, but the child of Solomon is a human! Can you believe that?! A human! In hell!" The dragon squeeled and the bells of his staff made his laughter more melodic than it already was.

"I know... that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about." Lucifer walked closer to Gamigin and protectively put his hands on Gamigin's sholders. "Be careful. Humans are... a distinct bunch. We cannot know what they're like until we get to know them better. Protect them, take care of them, but do not trust them blindly."

"Yes, sir!" Gamigin laughed and hugged Lucifer. "I will be the best healer ever."

"You already are." Lucifer whispered and stroked Gamigin's hair. With an affectionate kiss on the forhead, Gamigin was left to go outside and retrieve everything needed for the best dinner ever.

[excelsi-or]

heart clench (jihoon fic)

it’s kinda wild that i haven’t really kept up with SVT much the last year outside of their music releases, but jihoon fics are still coming to me. 

kinda wanna catch up on Going SVT this month now because tomorrow is the last day of grad school for me!!

w.c. 1k (fLUFF. i’m feeling soft these days)

This is always the worst part about the night. They can both agree to that.

But Jihoon had made very specific rules about seeing her.

They could spend all day together. They could stay up for most of the night. But he must go home.

Their days together don’t tend to run into the early mornings. Jihoon may be a night owl, but she is most certainly an early bird. So, as the nights get later, she starts to yawn.

“I should get going,” he murmurs now. He can feel her dozing off against him as they watch a new anime together. She agreed to watch them as long as they weren’t gory.

She hums and slowly pushes herself up to sitting. “Let me pack up some of the food so that you can take it to the dorm.”

He lets her pull him to his feet and trails after her, smiling as she yawns all the way to the kitchen.

“Do you want tea?” he asks her.

“Only if you’re going to have a cup,” she comments, her back to him as she looks for extra Tupperware.

Jihoon turns the kettle on.

They discuss mundane things. 2 AM conversations at 11 PM. 

While separating food into various containers, she asks him what makes his heart hurt.

“In a bad way?” he asks. He pops tea bags into a mug for each of them. The steam from the freshly boiled water is warm against his skin when he pours over the bags, the sweet smell of chamomile mingling with the earthy smells of stew and fresh bread from dinner.

“No,” she puts the containers into a plastic bag for him, knotting it carefully. “Doesn’t have to be. Just those moments that make your heart clench.”

Jihoon brings the mugs to the table in her kitchen, taking the seat closer to hers rather than the one across from her. When she sits, the doggy bag set on his usual side of the table, their legs tangle together. He can feel how warm she is from having been curled under the blanket.

“Whenever I sing Circles in front of Carats,” Jihoon decides.

She smiles slightly. “That’s a good one.”

His heart clenches then. That little dozy smile.

“What about you?” He plays with the tea bag in his mug to avoid saying what he’s really thinking out loud.

She tips her head, pursing her lips as she thinks. “Can I be sappy?”

Jihoon chuckles. “You’re the one who brought up the question.”

“My non-sappy answer is seeing my little niece’s face light up when I compliment her artwork. The little dance she does when she gets to eat something she likes.”

“And the sappy answer?”

She gets up to grab a spare plate so that she can take her tea bag out. She doesn’t like strong tea.

“Whenever you go home.”

Jihoon’s breath catches at that answer.

She meets his eyes. A braver human than him by a long shot. He wouldn’t have the guts to look her in the eye and lay his heart bare for her. “I know you set the boundary of wanting to go home and not wanting to stay here overnight.” She shrugs, smiling as she lifts her mug. “I just like you, I guess.”

As she sips, interrupting their eye contact, Jihoon reflects on how to respond.

Early in the relationship, they’d both admitted to one toxic trait. Jihoon admitted to poor communication. She admitted to the inability to be vulnerable.

They agreed to helping each other with the toxic trait. She was the one who asked him what boundaries he knew he had.

“And don’t be afraid to voice new ones as they come up.”

Hence their agreement that he leave every night.

Jihoon had encouraged her to speak her mind. He prompts her constantly: tell me more, please explain. He feels like a shrink half the time, but he finds he doesn’t need to prompt as often. She’s willing to share pieces of herself now, requiring less walls and shields around her heart and mind.

Like telling him she actually really does like him. Not that that hadn’t been obvious, but she’s never voiced it so blatantly before.

“Do you want to know my sappy answer?” he asks.

He waits until the silence encourages her to lift her gaze to meet his.

“When you fall asleep on me. It’s comforting that you feel safe with me.”

They keep talking, their tea cooling, the night stretching on.

By the time, he gets up to actually leave, it’s nearly 2 hours later.

He pauses at the door before turning to her. She stares up at him, dozy expression but curious as to what’s stopping him.

“Did you forget—?” 

Before she can finish her question, Jihoon’s lips have stolen the words from her mouth. When she melts into the kiss, Jihoon’s free hand finds the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. The lines of her body align against his, her arms snaking around the back of his neck.

“What was that for?” she breathes.

They’ve had sex plenty of times. Typically early in the night so that they can fit in another round if they want and so that neither of them falls asleep. The goodbye kisses tend to be chaste. The door’s usually open and he’s halfway through it.

“You said that your heart clenches when I leave,” he says against her lips.

She nods, still trying to catch her breath.

“I want to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because saying goodbye to you makes my heart clench,” Jihoon says. “Because getting to sleep next to you might soothe that pain in the morning.”

Her eyes flick back and forth between his, studying him. “Are you sure?”

Jihoon nods, stealing another kiss.

“So, we can go to sleep now?” she asks, her voice small. Worried that he’ll leave if that’s all she can offer him right now.

He kisses her forehead. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll clean the kitchen.” 

Another quick kiss to the forehead. 

Just to see the way she relishes his lips against her skin.

Heart. Clench.

[unforgottenrobot]

Broadchurch: The Next Chapter

Chapter 6 - The Change

Alec sat at his dining table, files spread out in front of him as Ellie leaned over, reviewing the details of their latest case. They’d taken her gentle approach and it had paid off in their favour. They were finally making headway. Their conversation was focused, the two detectives bouncing ideas back and forth in their usual manner, but there was a different energy in the room tonight. It was lighter, less strained. Alec had noticed it too, though he wasn’t about to admit it outright.

As they worked, Anna moved quietly around the kitchen, preparing cups of tea for them both. Alec glanced up, his gaze following her for a brief moment before returning to the case files. Ellie noticed the small smile that tugged at his lips—something she’d never seen him do so casually before.

Anna came over and set the mugs down in front of them with a warm smile. “Here you go. Anything else you need? Can I make you both something to eat?” she asked, her hand briefly brushing Alec’s shoulder as she moved to leave.

As Ellie opened her mouth to reply, her stomach grumbling, Alec interjected.

“No, we’re okay, thank you,” Alec replied, his tone softening in a way that wasn’t typical of him.

Once Anna disappeared into the other room, Ellie shot him a knowing look. “You’ve changed, you know,” she said, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but you’re... different.”

Alec frowned and with his head tilted forward, looked over his glasses at Ellie, feigning confusion. “What you on about, Miller?”

“Oh, come on,” Ellie said, a smirk forming. “I mean, look at you. I’ve known you for years, Hardy, and I’ve never seen you like this... so lovey dovey. Happy, even. I’d say Anna’s having a pretty good effect on you.”

Alec huffed, trying to keep his expression neutral. “We’re working a case, not discussing my personal life.”

Ellie wasn’t deterred. “I’m just saying, it’s nice to see. She’s good for you.”

Alec opened his mouth to retort but found himself pausing. He couldn’t deny that Ellie was right, though he wasn’t about to let her have the satisfaction of hearing it out loud. “This case - can we get back to it please?” he said instead, a hint of amusement in his voice as he tried to shut the conversation down.

Ellie laughed and shook her head. “Fine, fine. But I know you, Hardy. Don’t think it’s going unnoticed.”

As they returned to the case files, Alec couldn’t help but let Ellie’s words linger in his mind. He had changed - he could feel it. Anna had brought something new into his life, something steady, and he couldn’t ignore how much better things had felt with her around. Even the sharp edges of his personality seemed to have softened slightly, the constant weight of his past lifted just a little.

And then, unbidden, the thought crept into his mind: was it time for something more?

——————————————————————————

They had been living across the street from each other for months now, finding time whenever they could between busy schedules. It had been working fine, but a part of Alec couldn’t help but wonder if moving in together might be the next logical step. The thought surprised him - he wasn’t one to rush things, but with Anna, it felt different. Right.

He pushed the idea aside for now, refocusing on the case. But in the back of his mind, the thought of a future with Anna, more permanent, more settled, stayed with him. It wasn’t something he was used to, this feeling of wanting more, but maybe, just maybe, it was time to embrace it.

[minijenn]

Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: Trolls

So uhhhhh this movie. Kind of took me by surprise??? I went in expecting to hate this, thinking it would be annoyingly loud and bright and simple. What I got... wasn't quite what I thought it would be. Let's get into it.

The Trolls are a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky race of singing and dancing creatures, though they're constantly at ends with the miserable Bergens who want to eat them to get a taste of happiness. After escaping from the Bergens 20 years ago, the Trolls are thriving, until they're discovered by the ousted Bergen Chef, who captures a handful of Princess Poppy's friends, so she sets out with the perpetually grumpy Branch to rescue them. Along the way, they discover there may be a way to bring happiness to the Bergens and save their fellow Trolls alike.

So yeah, a very fantastical, fairy-taleish plot, one that took a few actually interesting, unexpected twists and turns. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a very complicated film, it wears its message of "Happiness is inside you" on its sleeve shamelessly. And yet... I don't know how, but it managed to... genuinely engage me?

Yeah, seriously. I actually kind of liked this? I don't know if it was because the emotions actually managed to hit or if I found the Bergens to be compelling antagonists/anti-heroes or if I started to really enjoy the dynamic between Poppy and Branch or what but like... fuck. Trolls is actually kind of ok? I feel like I'm going crazy just saying that. Like LOOK at that image up there and tell me that's the kind of movie anyone over the age of 6 would enjoy. And yet... I sort of did?

The movie, however, is certainly not without its faults. Its a jukebox musical and that's really not my cup of tea. The pop songs they picked for this are... tolerable, I guess, but hearing a lot of them kind of abruptly pulled me out of the plot so damn fast. Like I said, this is also a very simple movie, one with simple humor (save for a few insane adult jokes I couldn't believe they managed to sneak in there), and simple characters.

Poppy is... ok. She's kind of a bit too perpetually upbeat and cheery for me and yet she's not too over the top like I'd feared she'd be. By contrast, I really liked Branch! He's the straight man to literally all of the other Trolls around him and his dry sarcasm brought a lot of texture to what would have otherwise been a zany, goofy cast. The Bergens do much of the same, from the conflicted King Gristle, to the lovestruck scullery maid Bridget, to our villain, the insane, girlboss Chef, who just stole the show whenever she was on screen.

The visuals in this are also really nice? Like yes, its agressively bright and colorful but it works, I think? Like everything in this world feels like its made out of felt and fabric, very soft and fuzzy to the point that you can practically feel it. The designs for some of these creatures and backgrounds is actually really pretty in their own unique way? Of course, this is coming from someone who likes a lot of color anyway. If you like something a little more grounded visually, this probably isn't the movie for you.

So yeah, Trolls was... ok. Again, I'm fucking shocked, because I'd always been lead to believe this was Dreamworks in their peak cynical cashgrab era but... there's something to this movie that I didn't expect would be there. It's not fantastic by any means, but it has... some substance. And based on what I knew about this film going in, that's certainly more than I was expecting.

Overall Rating: 6/10

Verdict: SINGING KILLED YOUR GRANDMA

Previous Review (Kung Fu Panda 3)

Next Review (The Boss Baby)

[bakuzen-xiv]

FFXIV Write 2024 (Day 1): Steer

CW: Bad (but well-intentioned) parenting and mentions of violence.

“You useless pig! Are you saying you lost track of our target?”

“Yer the one who passed me the wrong intel, ye ale-sodden git!”

Z’len groaned before putting his fork back on his plate. Fights at the tavern were common, especially in Limsa. But hells, it was only afternoon. Was it too much to hope for a restful meal in-between his jobs?

He tried to ignore the yelling across the tavern and moved to stir his tea, taking a deep breath to distract himself from the anger bubbling up inside of him. His ears were flat against his head, giving away his annoyance despite the effort.

“Of all the places to start a fight…” he growled under his breath, stirring his drink with far more force than necessary. His eyes fell on the traces of blood under his nails, and he realised he forgot to wash his hands before rushing here.

Fuckin’ careless. He should’ve worn gloves when he got caught up in that ambush earlier. At least the blood wasn’t his own, though his client ended up with more scrapes and bruises than he would’ve liked. Couldn’t blame the guy for docking his payment.

“I should’ve known you don’t have any brains inside that head of yours!”

“Why, you…!”

Z’len’s stirring stopped when he heard the grating sound of chairs scraping across the floor, the strangers’ fight escalating in volume as it turned physical. He didn’t bother to look. They were across the tavern, and it was none of his business.

Instead, he glanced at his other side. Orion was sat down in the chair next to him, the young Elezen’s face hidden under messy black-and-white hair as he stared at his lap, small legs dangling and kicking air.

In his hands was a half-eaten muffin. Blueberry, with bits of fruit in it, far too big for his little hands. Yellow Bream always coddled him when Z’len brought him over to her tavern. Said she happened to be baking this morning. As if she had time for that, running the tavern and all.

Undoubtedly, she felt sorry for the kid, knowing Z’len was there to drop him off again. Still, her fussing helped him make sure Orion was growin' alright. And whenever Z'len messed up, she always steered him back onto the right path.

Z’len pushed down the pang of guilt and brushed the kid’s hair behind his pointed ears. It had grown long again. Maybe he’d cut it tonight, once he made it back from his next job…

“Not hungry, Orion?” He tried to sound casual, forcing a smile to reassure his son, or perhaps himself.

They both flinched at the sound of a chair impacting against someone’s head. Z’len cursed under his breath. Just to be safe, he pulled his son closer towards himself in case any furniture got thrown their way.

Orion leaned into the side-hug and finally took another bite of his muffin. “No, it’s good,” he said, his tone bright and chipper. “Have a bite,” he said, raising the snack up to his dad’s face.

Like a dutiful parent, Z’len took a small bite out of it and hummed with feigned approval, his face scrunching up from the cloyingly sweet flavor. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“Do you want the rest?”

The fight across the tavern continued to increase in loudness, voices clamoring for attention as other patrons began heckling the troublemakers. Yellow Bream’s voice rose above them all as the imposing Roegadyn kicked open the kitchen door, hurrying towards the chaos while cursing and waving a hot ladle in her hand.

“All yours, son.”

Orion’s muffin-grasping hands dropped back in his lap. “Damn…”

Both their eyes followed Yellow Bream, watching her shoo the rowdy duo out of her tavern. Before long, one of them was lying in the door opening, a hand covering a ladle mark across his cheek.

“Make sure you eat all the rest, okay?” Z’len said, finishing his tea with a big gulp before getting up from his chair. “She worked hard on it.”

“One last bite,” Orion pleaded, waving the muffin at Z’len.

Z’len shook his head and ruffled his son’s hair. “Can’t eat too much, Orion, I got work to do. Go read a book or somethin'. And be good, okay?”

Orion swallowed another bite of muffin, and any complaints along with it. He watched his dad push through the crowd gathered at the door, clearly in a rush to get somewhere.

"You too, okay?" he wished, too late for his dad to hear.

His dad yelled some word at Yellow Bream that he couldn’t catch, running off before she could respond. She threw her hands up at him in exasperation and turned to give Orion an apologetic smile.

Orion just hoped he would come home safely again.