#-sweats while thinking bout the other asks in my askbox-

[insertlovelyperson]

Do you have any headcanons for how the hacketteers would deal with being sick? Maybe how often they get sick, what type of illnesses they are prone to, etc….

Ahhhh this has been sitting in my askbox forever sorry! Great ask tho!

Abi - Had childhood asthma that has the occasional flare up in cold weather. Nothing serious, but her lungs get all rattle-y and her chest feels tight. Other than that, she’ll get the occasional cold that might keep her in bed for a day, but nothing life threatening. 

Ryan - Unless it’s enough to incapacitate him, he’s pretty business as usual (while still limiting his exposure to other people. He’s not an asshole). However, when it does incapacitate him… he just opts to rot in bed the whole time. Thankfully, he has people around to take care of him, or this could prove fatal.

Dylan - Has developed a fear of throwing up (dreads the ‘mouth sweats’), and as a result, has managed to willpower his way out of doing so for the last five years. Fortunately, he doesn’t get sick often, which might’ve played a bigger part in that achievement than any act of his own.

Emma - Prone to stomach bugs; has a brief bouts intermittently through the year. Due to their frequency, she’s pretty good at doing what she needs to do on her own. However, that doesn’t mean she is not opposed to some pampering.

Laura - Rarely ever gets sick, but when she does, she usually tries to power through it. I think she’d be prone to colds during her finals weeks, and Zicam nasal swabs would be her best friend. 

Max - Allergies. Pollen specifically. Has to take a Zyrtec every morning to function, but other than that, doesn’t really get sick. 

Jacob - Probably gets sick like once or twice a year and its always an ordeal. When he’s sick, nobodies ever been as sick as him before and he needs someone to take care of him. Immediately. (Kaitlyn drops off some pedialyte and saltines, and leaves him to it).

Kaitlyn - Doesn’t get sick super often, but when she does, she’s probably used to caring for herself. She’d have to literally be  on death’s door to let someone (other than her parents) care for her. 

Nick - The kind of guy who never gets sick unless its some kind of deadly ailment. Has been sick three times in the last ten years and was hospitalized for all of them (appendicitis, pneumonia, and then pneumonia again).

[svt-writers-club]

Highkey haoshua is a super valid ship, why is it so rare?? 😭😭

probably cos they don’t have that many interactions on shows, although the fact that they’re wine buddies is so adorable and i totes ship them for it

so here’s a little dance teacher!minghao/dance student!jisoo to ease the pain

- Jisoo keeps complaining about needing to keep fit but hating to go to the gym (and wasting his money when he buys a gym subscription and never goes) so Seungcheol signs up his awkward ass at the dance studio his boyfriend Jihoon sometimes teaches at

- it’s a hip hop class

- Minghao is most definitely the teacher

- (Seungcheol looked at the toughest class Jihoon wasn’t teaching and chose it just to fuck with Jisoo one hundred percent and his other boyfriend, Jeonghan, was definitely egging him on the entire time while Jihoon just shook his head and sighed.)

- Jisoo doesn’t think the dance teacher is hot. Not when he’s torturing him by sliding into an almost split while Jisoo’s crotch is like ten inches off the ground and not getting any closer because he’s just not that flexible, stop pressing down on my lower back I can’t go down any lower –

- Minghao doesn’t really think Jisoo is that cute either. Well… he does think it’s kinda cute that this inflexible noodle man joined his intermediate hip hop class, which is why he focuses on Jisoo more than the others, because all Jisoo needs is some effort and he might actually not look like a lame penguin when he moves to the music.

- Honestly, Jisoo has a thing where he hates it when he can’t get something, so he ends up spending a fair amount of extra time actually practicing whatever he’s learnt in class.

Everyone is impressed with it. Not really with Jisoo’s improvement, which is incremental and barely there, but at Jisoo’s vigour. They haven’t seen him this fired up since the first time Jisoo played Overwatch and discovered he sucked. Three months later and Jisoo’s arguably the best Mercy out of all his friends.

- Minghao starts noticing that Jisoo stays back a lot, so he offers some one-on-one tutoring after their class – free of charge. After all, if this man with the awkward limbs and bad sense of rhythm really wants to master hip hop, the least Minghao could do was help.

(It reminds Minghao of himself, back when he was scrawny and sickly. He remembers late nights staying up and practicing his freezes, pushing too hard and fracturing his wrist in a failed windmill and unable to practice for three months straight.)

- Jisoo’s “signature move” is something he likes to call a corkscrew. He raises his hands, goes down into a squat and does a turn while he stands up again. He thinks it’s hip hop. Minghao disagrees. (He still lets Jisoo think it’s hip hop.)

- It’s like two weeks into the impersonal tutoring that Jisoo’s like “oh, hey, I have an extra ticket for a wine tasting tomorrow that I got from work and all my friends can’t distinguish a cabernet from a bordeaux, so do you want to go with me?”

(Jisoo does not expect Minghao to take him up on the invitation.)

(Minghao also happens to like fancy wines and has friends who drink box wine, so he most definitely accepts Jisoo’s offer.)

- Now, Jisoo has never really seen Minghao in casual attire. Jisoo is in Minghao’s third class out of MInghao’s four Thursday evening classes. He’s only ever seen Minghao in a sweaty tank top and loose joggers (sometimes with a cap, usually without).

The next night, Jisoo meets Minghao in front of the restaurant they agreed to meet at and his jaw drops.

Minghao’s standing there, lit by the red lights of the neon sign. He’s wearing a light plaid-patterned blazer that’s tight in all the right places, with a white t-shirt underneath. His dark jeans hug his thighs just right and on his feet are dark sneakers that are probably half the cost of Jisoo’s crappy Toyota. Minghao’s caramel haired isn’t styled, but it looks carefully ruffled. There’s a slight rose tint to Minghao’s glasses (they seem ornamental, like a lot of things in Korea), but it could just be the lighting.

Jisoo swallows and rubs his sweaty palms onto his jeans. He feels a little underdressed, which is saying a lot; Jeonghan likes to say that even on a casual day out, Jisoo looks like he’s ready to go to a formal event. (It’s an occupational hazard of being a lifestyle journalist, he swears.)

Jisoo doesn’t realise he’s frozen on the sidewalk until Minghao turns and lifts a hand in greeting. There’s an easy smile on Minghao’s thin lips and Jisoo thinks, oh no… he’s hot.

(Minghao sees Jisoo in his pastel green graphic tee, black jeans and grey blazer and thinks Jisoo is really cute and wow, that’s not really good for his heart because this was supposed to be a purely platonic outing with good company and even better wine, but now he’s developing feelings.)

- Jisoo drinks too much wine – just a little bit. He gets nervous around people he finds hot. It doesn’t help that Minghao has a surprisingly dry sense of humour. Paired with his slightly accented Korean and knowledge of different kinds of wines, Jisoo finds himself helplessly charmed – and he doesn’t want to be. Minghao doesn’t even mind when he rambles, eyes sharp as he nods along to whatever Jisoo is saying – like he’s actually listening.

It leaves Jisoo feeling off-kilter, which leads to him drinking his wine a little faster than he should.

By the end of the tasting, his face is flushed and his head feels pleasantly light. He’s sitting too close to Minghao, who doesn’t seem to mind. The dance teacher also seems hilarious, coaxing giggles from Jisoo’s lips with every wry comment or snarky quip he makes.

It’s probably a trick of the dim lighting, but Jisoo thinks Minghao’s cheeks are tinted red. Maybe it’s just cosmetic blush, Jisoo thinks idly, letting himself lean into Minghao’s shoulder even as he swirls his wine in his glass – a 2008 Cabernet Sauvignon that’s fruitier than expected and lingers on his tongue. He’s on his eighth wine and he’s feeling it.

Minghao’s hand curls around his shoulder gently – not pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either. “Are you okay, hyung?” Minghao murmurs in Jisoo’s ear. Another giggle bubbles up his throat.

“I’m fine,” Jisoo answers, taking another sip of his wine. “Perfectly fine.”

No, not fine. The lights are too fuzzy and Minghao smells really nice.

“Thanks.” Minghao’s chuckle rumbles in Jisoo’s ear deliciously. “You don’t smell half bad either.”

Oops, looks like he’s talking his thoughts out loud again. Maybe he’s had too much wine.

The corner of Minghao’s lips twitches up into a gentle smile. “Uh, yeah, maybe just a little too much.” His fingers are warm when the brush Jisoo’s, the wine glass gingerly slipped out of his grip and placed on the table. “I think it’s time I get you home.”

“Nooooo,” Jisoo whispers, but he doesn’t protest when Minghao grabs both their jackets and helps him out of his seat.

The brisk air outside helps sober Jisoo up. His head still feels fuzzy, but walking isn’t such a struggle. He can’t find it in him to tell Minghao he feels better, not when the younger is slinging his arm around Jisoo’s shoulders and leading him to the curb to wait for a cab. Jisoo’s more sober now, but he lets himself lean into Minghao’s warmth. His jacket is carefully draped over his shoulders when he shivers, and another warmer jacket is placed over his own.

“Cold night,” Minghao comments, voice low. His breath brushes Jisoo’s ear. “Are you gonna be okay going home on your own?”

Jisoo nods, not trusting his voice. The moonlight in Minghao’s hair looks like something out of a dream. I could kiss him, he thinks idly, playing with the lapel of Minghao’s jacket. He could, but he won’t. Wouldn’t that make things awkward?

Minghao turns then, eyes widening slightly when their gazes meet. They’re a lot closer than Jisoo thought, breaths mingling. The scent of wine is heavy in the air. Jisoo licks his lips nervously, flushing more when Minghao’s eyes dart down. All it would take is a simple lean forward and their lips would be touching. It’s tempting. He almost does it.

The headlights of the cab blinds him as it turns the corner and Minghao pulls away with an awkward clearing of his throat. Jisoo buries the disappointment that wells in his chest.

He ducks into the cab when Minghao pulls open the door for him, telling the driver his address and settling back in his seat, eyes already sliding shut. He turns for one last glimpse of Minghao; he grins, one hand buried in his pocket while the other raises a hand in goodbye.

Jisoo still has Minghao’s jacket.

[ffxivimagines]

Commission 005 | campy

Commissioned by @mathclasswarfare ! Thank you for your patience and cheer! 

Noctis Lucis Caelum is having a no-good, horrible, terrible, very bad day. Well, maybe it’s not that bad, but the Regalia breaking down in the middle of gods-know-where combined with no cell reception that he could use to call Cindy for a tow feels abysmal. The sun is intense, making the back of his neck itch with the force of it, but it’s no worse than the height of Leiden summer. If there is any time worthy of regretting his birthright and the color that comes with it, it’s now. Even the dash of the Regalia grants him no respite once it heats enough to rival one of Ignis’s carbonsteel pans. 

Noctis would quite like to go home now, please and thank you, even if home is a moderately stinky sleeping bag shoved up against the back of a tent. 

He stands next to the Regalia and waits for someone to come down the road. When that fails, he starts pushing. The irony is not lost on him, but neither is his growing dehydration. There are only so many water bottles left in his Armiger and even fewer snacks (no thanks to Gladiolus’s appetite). He has time before he begins to truly overheat, but not a lot of it. 

The first person that passes is very much in a rush, charging past on a particularly fleetfooted chocobo, and Noctis has nearly no time to wave and attempt to flag them down for help. They pass in a blur of yellow and brown without giving him so much as a glance. Right, onto the next. He waits, inching the car along toward where can make out the vague outline of a building, and wonders if it would be a better investment to walk there first and ask for help. 

He waits and sweats in equal measure until there is a very clearly child-sized being charging toward him alongside the smallest chocobo Noctis has ever seen. “Do y’need some help there, lad?”

He has to stop for a long moment, squinting and blinking with his face scrunched up like the foreign being was some sort of hallucination. They’re not quite a child, Noctis notices, as if their tone of voice and way of speaking wasn’t proof enough, but he still grasps at nothing for a name. The closest thing he can think of is gremlin, but that’s a non-starter and rude besides. He settles for asking, “Wha─who are you?”

“Sabiha Humi, at y’r service,” they reply with a smile curving their words. “What’re y’ pushing?” They take a long look at the Regalia as if it’s some strange, likely dangerous deathtrap. It’s not the covetous appreciation he’s used to from Cindy whenever he brings the car in for maintenance, nor the casual-yet-respectful way Prompto always eyes it (he had freaked out after the Regalia had been dented by an Iron Giant’s sword, murmuring rapidfire apologies to Regis as if Noctis’s father would skin him alive for prioritizing his own life over the wellbeing of the car). Noctis is not sure what to make of it. 

“I’m Noct and this is a car,” he says, feeling mightily stupid for phrasing it so rudely. He assumes they don’t know what in the Astrals’ seven circles of hell a car is, but he fears for his shins if they do. To his benefit, Sabiha just nods. 

“I’ll call Cid, then.”

“Uh… Cid Sophiar?”

They shake their head and smile patiently, correcting him with a casual, “Garlond, actually. There a Cid where y’r from?”

Noctis huffs a laugh and says, “Yeah. He’s old and doesn’t like me much.”

Sabiha giggles and reaches up to pat him on the hip. “Let me call via linkpearl an’ he’ll be here within a bell.”

Noctis sits down in the shade of the Regalia to wait it out and wonders what on Eos’s great surface a linkpearl is. 

Noctis finds that he likes this place’s (world’s?) Cid a lot better than his own. The Garlond Ironworks folk are intimidating when they grill him for part specifications and schematics he does not have, but are nice enough when not consumed by technophilia. Noctis really, sincerely hopes Prompto hasn’t left any empty chip bags in the glove box again when Cid suggests a cleaning and some attempts at maintenance. Sabiha tugs him away to wander when he keeps fidgeting and flicking things in and out of the Armiger with the very real excuse of finding him a way home. 

“So y’r not from around here at all.”

“Yeah, about that,” he starts before something in his aether jumps, pulling taut at the vague sound of MagiTek weaponry echoing across the hills. “Nevermind. We have bigger fish to fry.”

Sabiha hops onto chocoback and follows along, chattering to ease his nerves as they search for the cause of his intrinsic anxiety. “─so y’see, I’m here talkin ‘bout how infuriatin’ it is to have some o’those midlander folk talk t’ me like I’m some sort o’child and then, to add insult t’ injury, they ask why a little gal like me is runnin’ about alone! I’m a grown woman, thank y’ very much! Even Gurney knows better!”

Noctis nods along as they traverse the dry brush, tossing in a comment here and there to make sure Sabiha knows he’s listening. Her easy way of speaking reminds him of Prompto─they have a lot in common, the more he thinks about it, if you ignore the obvious difference in physical form─and Noctis misses him acutely. He wants to get back home, to Eos, to his friends, to the destiny he is eternally tempted to ignore. 

He spots a MAX-Maniple clunking along and signals to Sabiha to wait.  He sets his nerves in steel, summons a blade in a flash of blue-white magic, and watches her do much the same. They lay waste to the familiarly damning machine with ease and Noctis hopes it is the last of the ones that followed him. 

They face other creatures over the course of their journey to find him a way home. The Regalia is repaired quickly enough, but Noctis hisses curses when Iseultalon all but shaves multiple years off his life with a few too many close misses. He keeps falling back on familiar patterns, calling for people that aren’t there to back him up, but Sabiha hurls magic into his bones all the same. Her arrows fly true and it becomes a familiar comfort to hear riffs amid the ringing of steel as she suffuses their surroundings with aether. 

Camp is much the same. The first new nights are rough when he pulls a can of Ebony from the Armiger and has to fight to dismiss it instead of putting it on a cooktop that isn’t even set up. Sabiha asks him about his companions, pressing for details about Prompto when he admits they have a lot in common. It’s like something just unlocks─Noctis can’t quite shut up about it once he starts, and Sabiha sits and listens with rapt attention to every one of their adventures spanning from before the Fall to their most recent attempt at completing their Imperial Destruction Plan™ (named as such by Prompto, of course, and agreed upon by Ignis)─where he can talk about his troubles and how much he truly is grateful to Prompto for reaching out and being his friend without having to worry about anyone looking at him strangely. 

“You’re a strong lad,” Sabiha tells him, “an’ I’m quite sure y’r friends are waitin’ for ya to come back n’ tell ‘em all about this. What’s the thing Prompto does? That “selfie” thing.”

“Want to take one? He’d like that.”

They wander through Gridania for a while, Noctis looking for a place he can fish same as take a decent enough photo, and they settle down for the afternoon. It’s a wonderful break from the usual adventuring-to-kill gig they both have going on. Having to kill Garuda (again. Of course it would be a murderous wind bird again) interrupts their relaxation and grants Noctis the way home he so dearly needs. 

Noctis forgets that Sabiha is terrible at warping. She chips away at Garuda arrow by arrow, but most are knocked aside by gusts rather than hitting their mark. He yells over the storm every so often, but it’s a trial in futility when his voice is stolen away time and time again. They manage a few synchronized attacks, but not nearly enough, By the time they make it out of the fight, Noctis has smashed more than a few potions over his head and chest in desperation. Sabiha glares balefully for all the broken arrows littering the ground. 

“I hate this fight.”

Noctis grimaces. “Do it often?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

They stare at the not-quite-Garuda with matching expressions, Sabiha not quite off guard yet while Noctis flicks his sword back into the Armiger. They listen while the primal speaks in a familiarly grating tongue as if its acceptance and blessing is all they’d need want. 

“You have proven your might, Chosen King. At the world’s peril do we grant our might to the untested. I bequeath to you and your companion both my blessing.”

They share a look of absolute exasperation before Noctis remarks, “Divinities… one second they’re trying to kill you and the next they’re helping you. I’ll never understand them.”

Sabiha nods and pats his hand in solidarity. “Time f’r you t’ get going back, it seems.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agrees. “Thanks, Sabiha, for everything.”

She grins when he gets into the Regalia and flashes a thumbs up. “Be safe! Don’t f’rget t’show Prompto those pictures!”

And Noctis drives into the portal, lead home by the Oracle of his world, leaving Sabiha with the pulse of new-old aether still thrumming in her ears. She tests the bright blue sensation of it and pulls a note from the Armiger on accident. 

Hey, Noct! Wherever you are, come back soon, okay? Iggy is drinking enough Ebony even Gladio is getting concerned!

I hope you’re safe. 

Come back soon, Noct. Please. 

Prompto 

P.s. don’t forget to take pictures if it’s someplace cool!!

Sabiha presses it back where it came from and smiles.

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