#anyway off to sleep i go now (even though i am a bit overwhelmed bc i had tooooo much caffeine today)

[gojoest]

quickly popping up to say — satoru bday fic is ready guys :3

[yinorathedragontamer]

Hello to my fav dbd writerrr 🤫

I've been a little sick lately and mom put me on phone ban for now lmao(but I still get sneaky with it)

So while I have time I wanted to request a fic but this time with crystal and charles with a sick s/o (if I remember right you're okay with that poly stuff?🤔LMK ANYWAY) just a cozy fluff bc it's rlly needed rn 👎 take your time and thank you <3

(p.s how have you been!!)

— 🦋 anon xoxo

a/n: AWW I'M YOUR FAVORITE? <3 i've been doing pretty good, for me, test week starts next friday, which i'm absolutely not exited for, though i am going to a Rammstein concert soon, which is going to be a lot of fun! my throat has been sore for the whole week, its gotten to the point where if i open my mouth too wide it hurts in the back of my throat, which sucks, but i'll get over it. i hope you get well soon! you have my best wishes <3

Pairing: Crystal Palace x alive!reader x Charles Rowland

note: i wrote this with alive!reader because if i remember correctly, ghosts can't get sick! like, in the scene where Edwin and Charles [i believe in episode two] they had to find the right book, and they found it and it had pictures of what each paranormal parasite does, and Charles went "i think i'm gonna be sick" and Edwin replied with "you're a ghost Charles, you can't get sick" not me randomly remembering lore this is also written from a bit of a more personal experience when i'm sick, so i apologize if it isnt accurate FOR YOU. whenever i get sick i'm extremely sensitive to noise and light, so i end up practically cocooning myself in a blanket (which gets kicked off half a minute later bc its too hot) with the lights off and a barely audible show playing in the background. also, if you're vegetarian, please imagine a different soup.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"aw, you're burning up, do you want some soup?" Crystal asks quietly as she retracts her hand from your clammy forehead, trying to stay more quiet than usual in the hopes of not overwhelming you with sound. you merely nod, barely keeping your eyes open. "okay, wait here" Crystal gives you a small smile and kisses your forehead, before walking out of your room and closing the door.

you can hear her practically yelling at Charles to get in there and comfort you while she's out to get chicken soup

half a minute later, Charles walks in through the wall, walking over to your bedside.

"hey there, you alright?" he lowers his voice a little once he sees your discomfort with the initial volume.

"i feel like shit, probably look like it too..." you mumble, your voice hoarse.

"nah, you still look like an angel to me, love" he gives you his signature, charming smile.

you'd roll your eyes if it weren't for the booming headache.

he sighs softly, realizing just how bad you feel.

"are you burning up? i could cuddle with you if you want, you know, cuz us ghosts have a cooler temperature" he murmurs softly, and once you nod, he lifts the blanket carefully and climbs in next to you, your head on his chest and his arms around your waist.

within a few minutes, he can hear your breath going steady and calm, slowing down ever so slightly.

you have fallen asleep.

he smiles to himself, even more so when he look down at you, seeing how you're practically clinging onto him.

he stays as still as he can, despite not being able to sleep himself, he made you and Crystal a promise he's take care of both of you, no matter what. and he intends to keep it.

Crystal comes in a little later, with a hot bowl of chicken soup, a spoon, a cup of tea and some painkillers.

they share a look of understanding, and Charles carefully peppers your face in gentle kisses, featherlight yet enough to wake you up.

"goodmorning sunshine" he murmurs a little playfully, your groggy bedhead being picture perfect to him, absolutely gorgeous.

Crystal smiles sympathetically at you.

"i got you chicken soup, and a cup of tea, so you can take your painkillers" the moment the mention of the medicine falls off her tongue, you whine and shove your face right back into Charles' chest, making him chuckle.

"come on princess, you gotta take them, they'll make you feel better" he coos into your ear, slowly letting you go to get up, so you'll be able to sit up properly aswell.

reluctantly, you get up, tipping back the painkillers first, with a big gulp of tea, and you look at both of them.

your not-so-picture perfect lovers, meant to be just for you.

they both smile at you, and Crystal hands you your bowl of chicken soup.

once your finished with the soup, Crystal takes the now-empty bowl from you and walks out for a second to put them in the kitchen, unbeknownst to her though, Charles follows her.

she only notices once she feels his arms around her waist, and his chin on her shoulder.

"i wish we could do more for [name]" he mumbles.

"i know, me too" she whispers back, running a hand through his curls.

"lets go comfort our poor baby" she smile as she says it, turning around in his arms to take his hand and go back to your room.

[blondiest]

Can you imagine an easily flustered, shy mello or Near? Who's harder to picture with this personality.

hahaha, i have to say neither of them are particularly easy to picture this way,,, mostly bc i don't actually think Near would fluster that easy (i can more easily see him getting slightly overly enthused / overwhelmed if that makes sense??) and Mello defaults to getting A Little Mad About It whenever confronted with an unfamiliar / uncomfortable emotion (some exceptions for this ofc).

overall i think it's easier for me to imagine Near getting a bit more flustered, esp in a situation in which they're already involved with one another, since i think perhaps in that case he'd feel less of a need to hide his reactions to things?? i'm gonna be totally real right now, it's pretty late here so i reserve the right to clarify / retract some of this tomorrow when i'm more coherent hfhfhggfhfgfgh.

all this being said i'll add that i personally enjoy writing Mello getting flustered more. in his own way, though. TO THE EXCERPTS, FOR CLARIFICATION.

oh. first. special treat for you, since you specifically asked about them being shy. unpublished bit of a WIP that i currently am not actually working on, linked here ❣️

okay. aside from that. literally the entirety of there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have falls into the "mello falling apart" category, but here's a bit i like particularly well:

Near pokes his head in the door, and Mello is hit with the smell of burnt bread. To his great dissatisfaction, the white-haired boy’s eyes don’t stray from Mello’s face for even an instant.

“I burned it the first two times,” Near says. “But I’m trying again.”

“Okay,” Mello says, shifting slightly to let the shirt— Near’s shirt, which by all logic should make it even sexier— fall open a bit more.

Near doesn’t react. The blonde finds himself almost wanting to scream, but instead runs a hand through his hair and looks at Near through half-lidded eyes. It’s a move that, to date, has had a one-hundred percent success rate in getting the attention of potential sex partners.

“I have white grape juice if you would like any,” Near informs him blandly. He is not giving Mello do-me eyes, or any other sign of being affected.

“I’ll pass,” Mello says, trying to sound like he isn’t edging into hysteria.

okay spoilers below this for two other fics lol

from chapter 5 of hot soup on a cold day:

A high-pitched beeping sound pulls Near from slumber a distressingly short period of time later. His head aches slightly from too little sleep, but he hits the “off” button and silences the alarm. Beside him, Mello stirs, blinking blearily up at Near for a few seconds before seemingly waking up all at once. Near watches with dread as the blonde’s face shifts from sleepy relaxation to embarrassment to panic.

“What—!” Mello stammers, mostly failing to muster up a glare. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?!”

The acting is not Mello’s best, to say the least, but he is clearly having a crisis of some kind.

chapter 2 of what doesn't kill me makes me want you more:

Near tilts her head. “You didn’t complain before, when you were kissing me.”

It’s as if a rod is slipped into the other girl’s spine; she goes rigid, then sneers. “That’s because I feel bad for you.”

Near bites back a question— is it common practice for you to kiss people you consider charity cases?— because it’s pointed enough that it could only worsen the situation. “Mello has a kind heart,” she says instead.

That doesn’t go over well, though, anyway.

“Don’t fucking mock me,” Mello spits. “You’re the one who has— you’re the one who’s obsessed with me. I was just taking pity on you.”

uuhhhhh. yeah. anyhow. thank you for the ask!! hopefully this made some kind of sense? it's genuinely hard for me to tell when it's this late in the day jhjgjghfhhhfhh (<- temporarily a european timezone girlie) but it was fun to answer anyways!

[windbornebardd]

some genshin guys comforting you. <3

-

characters included: venti, diluc, zhongli, and kaeya.

cw: really vague description of a panic attack idek if u can tell its a panic attack sorry💀 (diluc)

a/n: first post and im alr kinda venting mona moment🥸 ive kinda rly been going through it for the last four months and honestly i just need some comfort but i have nobody to comfort me so here i am writing ab fictional characters comforting me and hopefully it will comfort u as well💀 i also might make a version of this w some of the ladies bc im a raging bisexual

venti <3

- starting off w my fav and highest kin WOOOO

- venti kinda panics when he notices you’re stressed out, mans has a lot of emotional baggage himself but will try his hardest to help you through tough times as u do with him.

- hugs!!!!! and sweet nothings!!!!! venti has two love languages and theyre physical touch and words of affirmation

- will be v v gentle with you as you sob in his arms

- “it’s okay love. i know, i know. everything’s gonna be fine. i got you.”

- even if he doesn’t know what’s happening with you, he just needs u to know he’s gonna be there to support you no matter what

- DONT FORGET THE LYRE. HE CAN AND WILL PLAY IT AND SING TO CHEER YOUUP >:)

zhongli <3

- zhongli is a busy man, but he will drop EVERYTHING if you’re upset.

- he gives the best hugs. and kisses. and everything.

- “love, can you tell me what’s happening?” he’s super gentle with you, he knows how easily you get overwhelmed in situations like this.

- he’ll make you tea to calm your nerves!!!!

- he’s the sweetest man in the whole damn world yall, will literally get u anything you ask for.

- “hush now darling, get some rest. i promise you’ll feel a bit better once you wake up.”

- sings you to sleep im sorry he has the nicest voice

diluc <3

- DILUC FUCKING RAGNVINDR.

- he’s the sweetest.

- when you start to cry he takes off his gloves and cups your face in his hands…. <3333

- “sweetheart… what’s the matter? do you need anything?”

- almost begins to cry himself when you start sobbing even harder at his question, unable to get anything comprehensible out.

- when he notices you can’t breath that’s when he begins to get more serious.

- dont take that the wrong way though!!!! like everyone else, he’s still v gentle with you while you’re in this state.

- “darling. i need you to breath. lets do those breathing exorcises we practiced together, yeah?”

- kisses you gently while holding u. on your forehead, cheeks, neck, lips, he will do it all just to make u feel better.

- “you’re okay, honey. i’m here for you, and im never leaving.”

kaeya<3

- i hate dragonspine sm i love kaeya so so so so much and im trying to build him but I CANT UNLOCK THE FUCKING DOMAIN TO FARM HIS ARTIFACTS IM LITERALLY AR 41 AND I JUST SYARYED THE DRAGONSPINE SHIT

- uh anyways

- kaeya’s a huge tease, and might even crack a joke or two at first not knowing the severity of your situation.

- “hm, what’s this? did a hilichurl scare you?”

- immediately drops it when you start to cry.

- “oh gods- honey i’m sorry. what’s wrong?”

- he feels even worse then before after you explain your situation

- “love… that’s awful, you didn’t deserve any of that. c’mere.”

- gently cradles you in his arms, kaeyas not great with comfort but he tries his hardest

- hes cold but like in a comforting way HELPIDJDB IDK WHAT IM SAYING IM SO TIRED SORRY😭

- but yeah kaeya is jus. trying his hardest. and hes doing good!!!! dont be an asshole😡

[xiaq]

Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

[corpsedaydream]

crash

so, here i am with a new one shot.

so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.

anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.

idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.

anyway. here’s the one shot.

word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)

trigger warning: car crash, panic attack

__________________________________________________

crash

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.

The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.

This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.

But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.

The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.

“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.

You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.

You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.

-

Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.

It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.

So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.

Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.

“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.

“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.

“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.

“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.

“What’s going on?”

“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out. 

“What?!” 

“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.

“Where are you?!”

-

Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.

After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.

“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.

You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.

“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.

You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.

“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.

-

The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.

You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.

“Are you in any pain?”

"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.

“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.

“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”

“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.

-

You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.

The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.

“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.

Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.

You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.

Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.

-

The both of you didn’t sleep that night.

Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.

And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.

-

The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.

Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.

“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue. 

“A little bit.”

“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.

You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.

“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”

[cttrajan1206]

#arrow sys#Love them#Absolute sweethearts all of em#And suoer fun to sprint with

FIRST OF ALL SOBS /pos

second,,, i know nothing abt twst or obey me but grabby hands at a ramble; i will absolutely listen if you wanted to talk about it :starry:

JSHDJF [WAILS ALOUD] I TOOK SO LONG SO GET BACK TO YOU THAT I FINISHED ONE OF THE WIPS IN THAT TIME LMAO!!

Well!! This is good promo! :> The one that i was typing up is finished now and it's the obey me fic! You can find it here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33644662

Mammon and Movies:

Basically! Someone read another fic of mine that included my self insert flappy stimming and also getting mental breakdown so it asked if i could include a couple other stims in another work since he enjoyed my first one! I. Took that request and made an entire fic dedicated to him lmao. So! I asked it later on for what it would like me to include and which character to use and here we are!

This is a 4K fic of Mammon from Obey Me paired with a Neurodivergent!Reader. The plot is that of him showing you a magic trick and smoothly whipping out a movie ticket!! You've been wanting to ask him to see a movie with you for a while so this is perfect! So perfect in fact that you're overwhelmed with happiness and have a brief moment of being nonverbal as you're overwhelmed with euphoria. Then the next day, you meet him at the venue and the date begins! Other scenes include him allowing you to hold onto his bracelets as it's one of your stims (he wears one of every texture to accomodate to your tastes), you dissociating out of anxiety in a movie theatre and him helping to ground you, and finally! Him sleeping on your shoulder before the movie ends.

Ik i kinda just said the majority of the plot lmao but! Its just a fluffy and sweet movie date! I enjoyed writing it a lot although i got about 80% of it done a month ago and tyn didn't touch it for like 2 weeks sjdbsjd i was p sad abt that. I like finishing things quickly esp when its for other people!! But it was a comfort during a hard time to write this work at 2am under the light of a night lamp and to the tune of street life ambience.

ALSO I FOUND OUT THAT MAMMONS OFFICIAL SONG "ARE YOU READY" LEGIT HAS NO HOURLONG LOOPS AND THAT WAS A HARD HIT TO ME BC LIKE I WANTED TO LISTEN TO IT ON TV BUT IT WASNT HAPPENINGGG TWT WHY DOES EVERYONE LIKE ALL THE OTHER OTHER BROTHER'S SONGS INSTEAD LIKE PLSSS

Anyway lmao i'm quite happy with this work, it feels very round and finished to me which makes me happy because it means I didn't need to worry about editing it to feel satisfied. The requester liked it a lot too! Which made me super super happy. :>

Now!! For the twisted wonderland!! That’s a comfort plotline of mine that doesn’t really have a title yet and is still a wip that is written through my friend’s DMs BUT! I will also take the time to promo my twst writing blog! It is dead QvQ On there, you can see a bit more about the self insert in question but for now, i’ll just put the ship name as the title.

https://twst-sumi-squad.tumblr.com/

Kalim Al-Asim X Sumi Bint Khattar (Plot line):

So!! This one stemmed from me drawing something out of self indulgence and to show it to my friend, I described Sumi B in full and then I told them about my ships and around that time I had like five love songs I was obsessed with. And for each of them. I had. A separate animatic. For like at least 1 ship, the average was two but one had three. Sumi B was the centre of the most ships but not the only one. Anyway!! I told my friend about this and asked if I could dump my ideas onto them! They agreed and I started with a summarised version but then realised I needed a bit more build up so I started to write it in a bit more detail. Hah. It ended up being a Lot More Detailed but even then, I would write the scenes in a much more fluid and descriptive way if it were Real Writing so! I call it a Plotline. It is very long.

The plot itself is. long now. it’s a slowburn lmao because most if not all of my self insert ships tend to be slowburns. But this one? This particular self insert? Sumi B? Yeah she’s the only one with trust issues so she mothers the BIGGEST slowburns known to history. It takes them a year before she even considers him a friend despite seeing him every day and also having multiple deep conversations with him. Anyway though, this one is a big comfort becuase it has something I didn’t really dare to do before. Kalim, the canon character, falls in love with my oc first. Normally I have it the other way round becuase I’m too scared to assume that I would be like, deserving or like desirable enough for someone to have a crush on me. But with Sumi B, even I have a goddamn crush on her lmao. I indulge myself a bit with this one and really play around with emotions and!! In the most recent scene! We have finally reached the part where she actually starts to love him back! :D

I started this one a loooong time ago, at least a month and maybe two? It was Intended to be finsiehd in one night and then i got carried away and my friend got invested and then I ALSO got invested and so I started to develop the plot further so make it more interesting and keep the buildup going. It’s very fun and though i try to limit myself to summarising actions and dialogue, i fail. very often. so it often has little tidbits of more beautiful sentences and tension lmao. 

This particular fic is based off of my imagined animatic for the song “Would you be so kind” by Dodie! I didn’t know about the song until i saw other people’s animatics and I ended up taking it and running away haha! I’m currently really happy with it however I am really dreading the day where I actually write it out properly. If I don’t? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll post the plotline by itself. I have another fic just like it, one with a different self insert who (in fact) is very very close with Sumi B and considers her his older sister, that i ALSO wrote in semi detailed plot lines in someone’s DMs. Both are massive comforts to me and though i love them, their plot lines are so goddamn long that i will dread the day i decide to write them all out.

So uhm!!! Yeah!! XDD Those are the two fics I was talking about! I hope you enjoyed my small ramblings about them haha. I’m starting college soon though so I fear I might have much more time for fanfic.

[jj-5656]

We Promise

With;Newt

A/N: Heyyy. Are we shocked I have another way-too-old for me obsession with yet another fictional character? No. Are we shocked he’s a blonde? Absolutely. Anyways, I’m having a maze runner marathon after not having watched it for years and well, here we are.

Warnings: Probably cursing bc it’s me. Nothing else really.

The chatter amongst the other gladers in the cafeteria is a bit overwhelming, still not being fully accustomed to the new atmosphere. It’s still hard to believe there’s a new world to become accustomed to anyway, seeing as all you’ve ever known was the green fields surrounded by cold concrete. Beside you, Newt raises his brows to silently question if you’re okay, not having to speak to you to know your mind is buzzing  uncontrollably. You give him a small smile when he squeezes your hand  underneath the table, the two of you giving your full attention back to the pair in front of you. Mihno and Thomas sit down beside Newt as they continue on about their own experience. 

“There was this big loud explosion, and these guys came out of nowhere. Started shooting up the place.”

“It was intense.” His buddy adds beside him as you all continue to focus on their story intently. The calloused hand holding yours runs it’s thumb across your knuckles. Newt’s had a habit of always having to have somewhat of a hold on you, and with all that’s going on your’re thankful for his comforting touch. 

“They pulled us out the maze and brought us here.”

“And what about the rest? The other people you were with in the maze...What happened to them?” You add abruptly, curious as why only two of the boys from the same maze sit before you. 

“I don’t know. I guess...WCKD still has ‘em.” He shrugs solemnly as he speaks and your stomach drops at the thought of the other boys you left behind in the glade. You blink hard to push away the image of little chuck laying lifeless on the chilling grounds of the facility...Alone and stiff amongst the broken glass.

“How long you guys been here?” Newt follows up, taking his hand from yours to cross his arms on the table. No doubt unsettled by the information like the rest of you.

“Not long, just a day or two. That kid over there, he’s been here the longest. Almost a week.” You turn your attention to the scrawny, hooded boy across the cafeteria curiously.

“His maze was nothing but girls.”

“Really?”

“Some guys have all the luck.”

“Tell me about it.” You murmur without thinking, chuckling softly when the group laughs. Winston attempts to chuck a fry at you before Newt catches it. Tossing it accurately at his head as you smile cheekily, shrugging when Frypan teasingly nudges your shoulder. It feels good to have the mood lighten up a bit considering the past couple days. Still, an instinctive type of uncertainty lingers in the air around you. 

“Good evening gentlemen, ladies.” Janson’s accented announcement ceases the ongoing conversations around you. Taking your attention away from the unsettling feeling for just a few moments

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

The heavy door of the quaint dorm groans as it’s opened, Frypan leading the group into the room. Bunk beds align the walls in rows, and you watch amusedly as the boys argue over top bunks. 

“I could get used to this.” Winston pronounces, shuffling deeper into the mattress as he speaks.

“Yeah, not bad.” Newt comments, surveying the room contentedly.

“Alright, I’ll escort you to the girl’s dorm.” The broad-chested guard declares as he attempts to lead you out of the room. You back away from his advance as you shake your head in protest. Mihno’s the first to jump down from his bunk beside you, and you don’t hesitate to latch onto his forearm as the man tries to grab your shoulder.

“Whoa, whoa wait a minute. Why is she not staying with us?” Newt protests in a panic, hurriedly making his way to step between you and the guard. The rest of the boys have crowded around too, various shouts of defiance make the burly man increasingly aggravated as he reaches for you again.

“Can’t I stay with them? We’re from the same maze!” You exclaim incredulously, face contorting in pain when Newt pulls the man away from his harsh grip on your wrist, opting to place his own there instead. 

“Boys and girls are not permitted to dorm together, now let’s go!” His booming voice has the rest of you even more riled up instantly, Frypan and Thomas attempting to push the bastard out of the doorway in a chorus of shouts. 

“What’s going on? Break it up!” Janson and a couple of other guards rush over to separate the fight. The rest of you settling down when he spreads his arms out to create more space between all of you. 

“Everyone just calm down, now what seems to be the issue here?”

“You can’t separate us! She stays here.” Newt is the first to say anything, breathing heavy from the altercation as Janson looks to you with narrowed eyes. 

“Girls have a separate dorm just down that corridor, I’m sure you’ll be just fi-”

“That’s bullshit! She was one of the first to be placed in the maze and now you’re gonna separate us?” Mihno exclaims passionately beside you.

“I promise I won’t be any trouble. Please, just don’t take me away from them.”

“We promise we won’t be any trouble.” Newt corrects, shooting a pointed look to Thomas who nods knowingly in agreement. 

Janson studies each of you before sighing. Scratching the side of his head whilst giving a curt nod. “Alright, fine. But I don’t want to hear of another incident from this group or you go to your assigned dorm. Understood?” He’s shaking his head as all of you nod eagerly, quite obviously reluctant to comply with the request.

“Are you two together?” He motions to you and Newt, taking into account the death grip the boy has on your arm as you continue nodding. 

“Yes, but-”

“No sharing bunks. And get to bed, now.” He finishes sternly, one of his men slamming the door shut before you can reply. 

A conjoined breath of relief comes from all of you, and you let out a small gasp when newt tackles you into an embrace.

“Are you alright?” He mutters worriedly into your hair, kissing the side of your head when you nod. 

“Y/n, your arm. Minho announces softly, concern lacing his tone as Newt pulls away from you. Hands lifting your arm to inspect it. Your eyes widen when you're met with redness, skin already beginning to bruise from the assault to it. 

“Bloody hell, did I do that?” Newt inquires, softly rubbing the abused skin with a deep frown. 

“No, no it was mostly him. Your death grip didn’t help either though.” You add teasingly, laugh faltering when his frown deepens as he caresses the skin. “Hey, I’m kidding. Thank you, all of you guys.I’m surprised you didn’t let him take me.” You offer a grateful expression to the rest of the boys as they being to settle in their beds. 

“Oh, I considered it.” Frypan a counters playfully. Grinning when you stick your tongue out to him. 

Newt sighs in front of you, still studying your arm as the rest of the boys fall into a different conversation so you can talk to him without an audience. 

“Hey, I said I’m fine. You could never hurt me.” You place your hand on his cheek, placing a peck on the corner of his mouth to reassure him. Heart lighting up when the action brings a bashful smirk to his lips. The taller boy takes hold of your hand to kiss your palm, the action sending tingles down your arm as if it’s the first time he’s done it. 

“Slinthead better get what’s coming to him.”

“He will, now let’s get to bed.” 

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

You let out an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the ceiling above. Jealous of the rest of the guys who sleep soundly around you. Newt, having totally followed the ground rules Janson gave the both of you, snores softly on top of you. You run your fingers through the blonde strands atop his head to pass time, careful not to move too much in your restless state. 

“Y/n, are you awake?” Thomas whispers softly from the bunk beneath you as you nod, realizing he can’t actually see you. 

“Yeah. Can’t sleep either huh? There’s a shuffling sound before you see his head pop up from his new position on the bunk’s ladder. 

“I can’t stop thinking.” 

“About Teresa? Didn’t they say she was getting some more tests? You inquire quietly, wary of waking Newt or the others. 

“Do you really believe that?”

“Well, what else would they be doing.” Thomas doesn’t respond right away, eyes dancing around the room before looking back to you.

“You’re not the least bit unsettled by this place?” 

“Of course I am. It all seems a bit...Too good to be true.” 

“Exactly, but I don’t think he others would understand.” 

“Maybe. But Thomas, this is the most Newt has ever slept in years. Usually, he’d be pacing the room debating on what supplies to ask for next and taking inventory. Or Minho would be mapping the maze over and over in his head, Frypan thinking about a meal that won’t make us wish we had more than the limitations of the glade. This isn’t home Thomas, not at all. But we’re sleeping in warm beds, with a good meal in our stomachs. It’s been a while” You chuckle sadly at the end of your rant, studying the brunette as he nods thoughtfully. Eyebrows raising in question when his lips curl into a small smirk. 

“I guess you’ve never seen Newt drool before. Must be fully out of it for once.” Thomas motions his head to said boy, the two of you laughing softly as you observe him. 

“Exactly. As much as this place feels a bit off, it’s great to see him finally relax. He’s always carried so much weight on his shoulders Thomas.” You note sadly.

“I know, I wonder if-” He’s interrupted when a distant rattling sounds throughout the room.

“What the hell?” You sit up on your forearms when a soft creaking sound following the rattling comes from below. Thomas and you exchange a worried glance before someone calls out. 

“Psst. Hey, down here” You’re not sure if you’ve imagined the voice as the whispers stop as soon as they’re spoken. Thomas jumps down from the ladder, confirming he’s heard it too.

“C’mon follow me.” There’s rumbling again, as if someone has tunrd around in the lower vents and begun crawling away. 

“Thomas, who the shuck was that?” Your heart is racing, but the look in Thomas’ eyes when he pops back into view slightly reassures you. 

“It’s that kid from the cafeteria, he says he wants to show me something.”

“What kid?”

“The one from the all girls maze.”

“You’re not gonna go, right?”

“Y/n, you agreed something was off about this place. He’s been here the longest, he’s gotta know something we don’t.” 

“Alright, fine. I’ll cover for you. Be careful.” 

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.” Thomas disappears from view once more, and you run your hand over your face as the sounds of them going through the vents fades. Hopefully, the two of you are just paranoid. Realistically though, with all you guys have been through, whatever Thomas finds will confirm your suspicions. Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes. Hoping to get some rest before he returns.

[ickle-ronniekins]

silent confessions

request from nonnie! “Hey erica! I have a request for you, it's a bit challenging i think but I'm sure you'll do perfectly. Imagine like, the fake dating trope with fred, BUT at the end it's a george x reader? Like, imagine george feeling uncomfortable and jealous seeing the reader and fred acting like a couple even though he knows its not real and stuff anyway im obsessed with your writing love you bye”

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.8k

A/N: wait, i loved this request. so different from the normal fake dating tropes! i hope this lived up to expectations.. idk why i just feel like my writing sort of sucks in this?? wah, idk, sad, feedback pls? also we’ve got some POV changes in this but they’re pointed out ayyyee, thanks for enduring the fluffiest fluff ever bc that’s all i have to give you hooligans

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan

You

You could practically hear the smirk that grew on his face — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He took his place next to you in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that you were removing spellbooks and quills from your bag to begin your work, and didn’t bother to heed Snape’s warning glance.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Fred’s voice was a little too sweet for your liking; sweet as sugar, in fact. You knew this voice. It’s the voice he always put on whenever he needed a favor — whenever he wanted something from you. You didn’t look up from the table.

“Whatever it is, I think I’m going to pass.”

He scoffed and closed your spellbook. You grunted in annoyance; you were positive he wasn’t going down without a fight, but you supposed you still needed to try, even though you knew in your heart that this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You turned toward him and he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Dear, dear Y/N — you won’t pass when I tell you what’s in it for you.”

“What type of chaotic mischief that you have planned could possibly be beneficial to me?”

He digested this; you were right, and he knew it. He just shrugged, though, took in your rejection and tried to use it to his advantage.

He nodded across to the other end of the Gryffindor table; there sat Angelina Johnson — fellow Gryffindor, member of the DA, Quidditch captain and, to your most recent knowledge, Fred Weasley’s crush. Again. Boy was crazy about her.

“Thought we already tried this, Freddie?” you sighed, stealing your spellbook back from his very tight grasp and opening it to your desired page. He huffed a bit, and you were quite sure he was remembering the disaster that was the Yule Ball, just a year ago.

You noticed a small grin lift his cheeks; he looked rather smug now, which made you worried. What was it, exactly, that he had planned? “I know last year didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped.” Right. Fred had gotten a little too sloppy on his date with Angelina. She’d been a bit turned off. The night ended and she never pursued anything else; he was so embarrassed, neither did he. Fred Weasley? Embarrassed? The word wasn’t even in his day to day vernacular. But boy, was he shook.

“But it was a long time ago — besides, she’s been sending me all types of signals.”

“I don’t think her eye rolls mean she fancies you, Fred.”

He jabbed you playfully in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. I know she fancies me. I just know it. You don’t go on just one date with Fred Weasley.”

You scoffed at his air of egotistical confidence; you shut your eyes at the prospect of him maybe going to someone else for help. Much to your dismay, it didn’t happen. He just stayed where he was, resting his chin on his hand, peering at you longingly as if his staring alone would convince you to say yes to whatever he had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, you said, “If I agree to help you, you prat, will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t say leaving you alone would exactly work with what I’ve got planned,” he replied, relaxing now, tapping his foot underneath the table and not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Y/N, I’m not going to pin you against the wall and snog you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. You felt as though your throat was closing up at the mere thought of it. “Just some hand holding, things of the like. Need to make her jealous. Need to make her realize what she’s missing.”

You groaned in frustration. “Can I take back what I said?”

“Nope,” he answered brightly. “You can’t. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Don’t get in too deep, though. No falling in love with me, alright?”

You felt a pang in your chest; you weren’t in love with him and you never would be. He was your best friend and nothing would change that. You knew it and so did he. You felt worried, though. What would others think? What if Angelina did get jealous — but in a bad way? Or worse — what would George say?

His was the only opinion that mattered to you, truthfully.

So that’s how you came to be Fred Weasley’s “girlfriend”, and when you both finally told George what Fred had strategically planned, you were relieved and also a bit upset at how nonchalant he seemed; a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips which sent you into a tizzy. You tried your very hardest to hide your disappointment; you didn’t want to let on how absolutely mad you were for him. So, you supposed, when you thought about this ridiculous stunt one night in your four poster, fake dating Fred would certainly squash any and all suspicions George had (if he did) about you fancying him.

“How’s my favorite couple?” he’d asked teasingly one day in the middle of the common room, sinking into the couch on the other side of you. Angelina then popped in through the portrait hole, and Fred placed his hand on your knee, stroking it absentmindedly. You felt a dull ache in your heart when you saw George’s eyes dart toward Fred’s hand.

Angelina had done the exact same thing; you were able to see a very faint shade of pink flush her cheeks before she stormed upstairs to her dormitory without a word to any of you. Fred immediately dropped his hand and you felt your muscles relax, but not without a quick squeeze to your knee and a cheeky grin. “Brilliant, Y/N,” he said, earning himself a dull grunt from you. Not that you’d done much, or anything, for that matter. But still, your heart felt sore at the thought: you wanted, more than anything, for George to reach over and gently graze your knee, pull you into him, kiss your temple as Fred had been doing the last few weeks.

The dull ache in your heart just seemed to grow stronger.

George

“Help me!”

You frowned. “I’m already in the middle of the other favor your lovely brother asked me to do,” you told him with a slight twinge of annoyance to your voice; however, it wasn’t difficult for him to detect a bit of cheekiness, too — especially when he saw the slight grin that spread itself across your lips.

“I just need some help with this stupid Potions essay.”

George noticed you soften at his request; he supposed it wasn’t as time-consuming as pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, and was rather elated when you agreed. You pulled out your desired books from the shelves in front of you and pointed at an empty table in one of the rows. “Let’s get started then, Georgie.”

But the truth was, he didn’t really need help. He was actually doing surprisingly well in Potions, for the first time since he began at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to let it get to his head, though. He figured there wasn’t anything wrong with getting some extra assistance.

It wasn’t assistance that he yearned for, though — it was you. More importantly, time spent with you. Any time — which he found himself getting hardly any now that you were “dating” his brother. He was first impressed at the idea that you’d decided to help Fred with his ridiculous request, and spent most of the time hanging around you teasing you and taunting you mercilessly for it, earning himself adorable laughs and flustered looks in return. But now, as he watched Fred press featherlight kisses to your temple and snake his arm around your waist at every given moment, all he felt was resentment. Jealousy. Hurt.

He felt himself feeling guilty; he shouldn’t be allowed to feel any of those things, because Fred didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody knew how he felt about you. Also, this whole stupid thing was just a ploy, anyway. So he suppressed those feelings everyday until he ended up alone in his dorm room, where he’d kick his trunk and scream into a muffled pillow while he let his brain unwind and digest the day's events.

“Ah — work here is finished,” he said after a few hours in the library. Much needed hours, in fact. He watched as you slowly placed your spellbooks back into your bag. “Thanks for your help.”

And in between those bouts of jealousy and resentment came moments of clarity, moments of affection, overwhelming feelings of admiration toward you. “For you?” you started, a gentle smile on your lips as you placed a hand to his knee, “Anything.”

You

You woke up before the sun and groaned; it was Saturday. Four Saturdays, in fact, since Fred had asked you to embark on this silly endeavor with him. Three Saturdays since you’d begun wondering when this would finally be over. Two Saturdays since Fred had told you sooner rather than later. One Saturday since George had noticeably become off balance.

You felt a pull at your heart when you popped through the portrait hole with Fred and Ginny later that evening after a much needed trip into Hogsmeade; you chewed nervously on the sugar quill you’d purchased as you placed yourself next to the roaring fire, Fred taking a seat next to you on the couch when Ginny made her way to the girls dormitory.

You didn’t know where George was; he hadn’t come to Hogsmeade. Or maybe he did, and he’d just very successfully avoided you both as you ended up, hand-in-hand, wherever Angelina was. With the exception of a few measly youngins on the other end of the common room, you and Fred were alone.

“Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to talk with you.”

He looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched in his hands. He furrowed his brow and placed the paper on the table in front of him, criss-crossing his legs and peering at you longingly. Then he turned cheeky and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Must be important,”

You cleared your throat and felt your heart thundering against your ribcage.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it just the same. You didn’t really know how to ask what you wanted to — to tell him what you wanted to. So instead, you opted for, “How much longer d’you think this is going to last?”

“I dunno — a few days, or so. Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “Sick of me already?”

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically, jabbing him in the chest. “I just — I’m a bit worried —” you broke off and let your mind wander for a moment. You thought about truthfully telling Fred how you felt. Guilty. Upset. Lonely. In love with someone who didn’t seem to notice. Worried he’d find someone else. “I just hope Angelina isn’t getting the wrong idea.”

Fred digested this. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, you want her to run to you in a fit of jealous fury, right?” he nodded curtly, taking this in. “I just hope she doesn’t see us together and instead, turns the other cheek. Looks the other way. Finds somebody else. You know?” But it wasn’t Angelina you were worried about.

Fred thought about this for a moment. You watched as his cheeky expression turned rather stoic, and then a bit grim. “I never thought of it that way.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely worried. You started, “No, no, you know what? I’m being silly — she wouldn’t, because she’s absolutely mad for you, too. Just forget I said anything, okay? I reckon she’ll be round to snatch you right out of my hands this week.” You laughed, but it felt foreign in your mouth. Fred noticed.

“Y/N,” his voice suddenly sounded a lot less like his own — more concerned. “What’s going on?”

Just then, George popped through the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Neville. You met his gaze and let it linger for a few long moments. He then smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t been acting strange this entire past week. With a quick wave to you both, ignoring Fred’s motion to come and sit down, he made his way straight up to the boys dormitory. Fred shot you a glance, and you answered his previous question.

“Nothing, Fred,” you sighed, silencing him before he could ask you if you knew what was up with his twin. You hated how painfully true your next words were. ��There’s absolutely nothing going on.”

George

George was outside in the courtyard with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. He’d been doing his best to avoid you and Fred at all costs, which was pretty hard when you were his best friend and Fred was his twin. But he tried.

He found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable around you both; the sheer sight of Fred slinging an arm around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, calling you his “love” — it sent George spiraling. He didn’t want Fred doing those things. In fact, he didn’t want anyone doing those things. Only him. He wanted you to be his love.

“Georgie?”

You took him by surprise in the courtyard; the others were immersed in a conversation about bets, or something. He, though, was peering up at you, doing his very best to not look as bloody nervous as he felt.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer; you pulled him to his feet and immediately brought him back into the castle. You found an empty classroom and sat yourself down on a desk across from him. He had to resist the urge to spill his guts, tell you everything, grab your face in his hands and confess his unwavering love for you.

So instead, he opted for a generic, “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure..” you started timidly. He could see the shyness in your eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. You? Shy around him? You’d never been. He hated that this is where it had gotten too. “Are you mad at me?”

He was very much taken aback at your forward question; way to cushion the blow. He swallowed a few times, trying very desperately to dislodge the lump that appeared in his throat and hoped to Merlin that he could fool you. “Mad? Of course not. Why would I be?”

You crossed your arms, now looking a bit angered. George felt his insides constrict. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“I’ve just — been busy,” George lied. His jaw tightened. “Assignments, and things. Detention. You know,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood, “the usual.”

You smiled back, though it was a broken sort of smile. Lonely. It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss it right off of your mouth. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He swore he heard more than yearning in your voice; he scolded himself silently for being dishonest. Was your voice breaking? “You’re my best friend.”

Inside his pockets, he clenched his fists. He was going to go for it. Who cared about Angelina? Fred could get her without this ridiculous bloody stunt of his. And George needed to tell you before you fell for his twin, for real, and the both of you ended up heartbroken. He stepped forward, but before he could do or say anything, you slung your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. He felt revitalized at your embrace, like he was reentering his body after having been off balance for months. His fingertips found your hips and he focused solely on the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed tightly against him. When you both parted, he took your hands in his. He wet his lips and took a steady deep breath. “Honestly?”

“Darling!”

Fred’s voice, much to George’s dismay, came from the classroom door. Damnit. How had he found you both? The door was closed! Frustration, anger, and gloom raced through George’s body; he was about two bloody seconds away from decking his brother for interrupting. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. Fred didn’t know. George sighed through gritted teeth, let your hands fall out of his, and backed away slowly.

“”C’mon, love, we’ve got dinner,” Fred called, sounding much happier than George would’ve liked. To him, Fred said, “you coming, mate?”

“Be there in a minute, Freddie.”

Fred grinned brightly and left you both standing in the middle of the classroom, the tension still hanging in the air. You turned back from the door, a solemn sort of look on your face, and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

“Oh,” George’s voice got caught in his throat, “just — been a little stressed. Knackered from class more often than not. Reckon I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You frowned. He knew that you were aware not to press on; that was all the information he was going to give. You took a deep breath. “As long as we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay,” you said. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”

You

“Did I do something wrong?”

Fred was standing across from you in the common room, arms crossed, shoulders back, and a smirk growing on his face. He laughed at your nervousness. He’d just told you that things were over between you both. You’d asked, of course, just to be courteous. But you were actually pretty bloody excited. “Of course not, Y/N. You’ve done quite the opposite, actually.”

“Meaning?”

Fred walked over to you and placed his hands on both of your shoulders. He wet his lips before a huge, cheeky grin swept itself across his face. He squeezed you. “Angelina cornered me this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows. You were suddenly feeling much more invigorated. You grabbed his face out of pure excitement and shook him. “And? Keep bloody on, would you?!”

He threw his head back and laughed haughtily now. “Haven’t seen you this excited since before we began this,”

“Sorry,” you calmed down and frowned a bit. “Reckon I haven’t been the greatest “girlfriend”...”

A soft smile found its way across Fred’s cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, hoping that he was going to tell you that he and Angelina were finally, wonderfully, officially together, which meant that you and Fred didn’t need to be. But he caught you completely off guard and said, “Don’t blame yourself too much. I reckon it’d be difficult to pretend to date me, especially when you’re in love with someone else.”

You were certain that your heart had jumped directly into your throat; your entire body went rigid at his words. He knew? Who else knew? Did George? Did everyone?  “I don’t.. know what you’re on about, Freddie.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” he teased, pulling at your hair and shaking his head. “C’mon. You think I didn’t notice? Each time I’d drop your hand, or unwind my arm from your waist, I saw you steal glances at him.” Fred leaned in to get closer to you and you noticed a light shade of pink wash over his cheeks. Had you been silently confessing your love for George this entire time? “He was stealing them right back, you know.”

You swallowed thickly. Did Fred know more than he was letting on? Where was George? “He was?”

“He’s in the Great Hall.” It was evident to you that Angelina was watching from the other end of the common room, and she was smiling brightly. No doubt, Fred had told her everything. You turned back toward Fred and grinned nervously. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. He simply said, “Go get him already, would you?”

And as quickly as your feet could carry you, you ran swiftly down the staircases, through the corridors, into the Great Hall and all the way to the front, where George was sitting, pouring over a bit of parchment, looking positively ghastly. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like fire; your cheeks felt hot and flushed and each and every muscle in your body ached from running so bloody fast. “Ah,” he said brightly at the sight of you. “Come here to help me, have you? This assignment is a right load —”

You cut him off, ignored this completely and pulled him to his feet; he peered down at you with a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him forward, and kissed him. The muffled moan that escaped his lips gave you your answer — he was certainly shocked. However, it didn’t take him long to melt into it; he was kissing you as though he’d never kissed anyone in his life, like the pure feeling of your lips moulding together with his was the very oxygen pumping through his lungs at that very moment. His hands were tangled in your robes, but he eventually found himself stroking your spine delicately with his fingers, earning himself slight whines from you as he laughed cheekily against your lips. From behind you somewhere, someone said, “Hey Y/N, you do know that’s the wrong twin you’re snogging, right?”

“Oi, shove off, Finnegan!” you called, parting from George only for a moment. “I know which twin it is!”

You turned back toward George and the two of you let out a bit of relieved laughter, limbs still entangled together. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he began, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pouncing on you, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Pretty difficult to do anything about it when you’ve been dating my brother the last month or so,”

“You’re right,” you told him, pulling a bit on his tie, “but I’m pretty sure he broke down and told Angelina everything.”

George raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. You continued, “Pretty sure he got sick of me being a mopey “girlfriend” because all I wanted to do was be with you instead.”

His sweet smile turned rather sensual. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” you told him straightforwardly, running your hands through his very messy red hair.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sea of people watching you both, Seamus Finnegan shouted, “Wait, has it always been George?”

George actually snorted a bit at this; then he bit down on his lip again, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and asked, “Well — has it?”

You didn’t break your gaze, though; instead, you let your eyes linger on George’s for much longer than you normally would. You were pretty sure that you could hear the steady thumping of his heart against his ribcage, and his eyes washing over you like a cool tide completely sent you into overdrive. Suddenly, you were feeling much more confident than normal. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said to George, pressing your lips to his once more, “it’s always been you.”

reblogs, comments, feedback, and all of the above are always appreciated!

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

Can you make a sick akaashi at school or something ? TYSM ✨

You’re in Charge: a BokuAka sick fic

Pairing: sick Akaashi, caretaker Bokuto

Word Count: 3,295

Warnings: panic attack, brief mentions of vomit, swearing

————————————————————

Hello ‘tis me I am back and I’ve completely given up on writing shorter fics.

I could’ve cut this off and finished it in multiple places, but I didn’t bc my brain said “okay but what if you added this...” and I am nothing but a mere peasant subject to my brain’s demands.

Anyway, pls enjoy!

————————————————————

“Thank you for the game!”

The room spun when Akaashi straightened from his bow. He blinked away the black dots in his vision and moved to shake hands with the other team.

The club room called to him tauntingly, promising a cold shower and a change of clothes. He wanted nothing more than to cool off and get out of his sticky, sweaty practice clothes.

The Fukurodani boys’ volleyball team was visiting Shinzen Academy for a friendly practice match. Their games were always intense and Akaashi had to work harder to take in the entire court and his teammates’ conditions. Today was no different all in all, but Akaashi felt more drained than usual.

Even during the game, Akaashi’s body protested his movements if they expended too much energy. On top of that, his brain felt like it was melting. For some reason, his focus was all over the place and he had to set aside more of that energy in order to observe the game in its entirety and make the right sets more than in other games.

Fukurodani won, so he tried to convince himself that the excessive work to maintain control that he put in was worth it, but with how utterly exhausted and uncomfortable and achy he felt, he wasn’t sure he believed it.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto yelled when they entered the locker room. It bounced off the walls and pounded in Akaashi’s skull. He must be dehydrated. He sat heavily on the bench, wiping the sweat off his face and catching his breath. When he reached down to get his water from his bag, his chest constricted and he coughed quietly. Sitting back up, his chest loosed, but he realized suddenly that he was on a quickly descending slope to pure and unadulterated exhaustion. What was going on?

“Great game everyone! Your awesome captain-slash-superstar-ace is very impressed with everyone!” Bokuto exclaimed proudly, his hands on his hips. He walked over to Akaashi and plopped down beside him, throwing an arm around his tense shoulders.

Akaashi loved Bokuto and didn’t want to dampen his mood at all, but his body told him to push the ace away. He resisted the urge, but the touch sent needles across his skin and made his chest tighten more.

“‘Specially ‘Kaashi here!” he said, his volume still set at level 10, “you were on FIRE today!”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi muttered. The words felt heavy in his mouth, his jaw moving like it was wading through a pool of honey.

“Bokuto, you barely did anything! You went emo mode in the first half of the first set,” Konoha jeered. Sarukui sniggered beside him and Bokuto pouted. He removed his arm so quickly from Akaashi’s shoulders that the setter’s poor brain couldn’t keep up and black dots danced in his vision again.

“Hey! But I had that amazing cut shot!” Bokuto argued back loudly and the dull pounding in Akaashi’s head increased to resemble something like a jackhammer. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. It was his body. His mind. He was in charge of it. So why did he feel like he wasn’t even physically present?

“Yeah, thanks to Akaashi. You wouldn’t be anywhere without that guy. Tell him, Akaashi,” Sarukui teased back.

Akaashi wanted to respond. Really, he did. But it was suddenly very very hot, and his chest was very very tight. It was all he could do to breathe.

“Akaashi?” someone asked. His mouth wouldn’t open to reply. Open dammit. Respond.

“Hey, man. You okay?” No. No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know why. Breathe.

“Akaashi? What’s going on?” He didn’t know. He didn’t know. What was going on? Why was this happening? Despite his eyes being closed, he still felt like he was sitting in a tilt-a-whirl. A haze clouded his head and he didn’t know what was happening anymore.

Every part of his being was exhausted and achy. More than what was normal for after a game, even one of their harder ones. Something was not right at all, but he couldn’t get his brain to sort through all the things he was feeling to figure out why. All sense of control he had over himself was gone and it sent him spiraling further into whatever pit he was falling in to. He needed help. Someone please turn off the heat. Make it stop spinning. Was he floating? Where did the bench go?

“B-Bokuto…” he choked and a hand was on his back. He winced away from the touch and then it was gone again.

“Hey, yeah. Deep breaths, buddy. I’m here Akaashi. What’s up? What do you need?” Was that Bokuto? It sounded like him, but it was almost too gentle, too soft. Akaashi tilted forward against his will, but his forehead was caught by something hard.

“Bo-boku-,” he got cut off by harsh cough, “h-help.” He couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah. It’s me, Akaashi. I got ya. You’re okay, alright? Everything is fine,” Soft-Bokuto said and an arm was wrapped around his back. He whined and tried to pull away.

“Okay, got it. No touching. That’s fine. You’re in charge. You know best as usual, Akaashi! What do you think we should do?”

That’s right. Akaashi always knew what to do, so he should be able to figure this out, right? But if that was true, why was everything moving faster than he could possibly keep up? What should he do?

“Stick-sticky,” he wheezed. Everything around him felt sticky. That needed to go away.

“Okay. Yeah. You got it. Someone get me a wet rag and go find a coach or a manager,” Bokuto commanded.

“What’s happening, Bo?”

“Akaashi, hey. I’m going to wipe off your face, okay? It’ll make you feel better.” No, he did not want to do that. He tried to shake his head.

“N-no—“ he gasped.

“Work with me here, buddy. Okay? I promise I’ll be quick,” Bokuto said. Akaashi really didn’t want that. No one should touch him right now. But it was so hot. And he was so clammy.

“K-Kay,” he said.

“Okay, great! Thank you, Akaashi. You’re doing good, okay? I’m gonna help you. I’m going to touch your face, alright?” Bokuto said, calmly, gently, grounding Akaashi somewhat.

Then Bokuto’s calloused hand was gripping Akaashi’s chin, moving him backwards.

“This might be kinda cold and icky feeling,” Bokuto warned quickly before something that was exactly cold and exactly icky was moving across his face. He whined and tugged his face away, but Bokuto’s grip on his chin pulled him back.

“Hey, just give it a second and it’ll feel better, okay?”

True to his word, Akaashi felt minutely cooler. He sighed and leaned into Bokuto’s hand.

“Yeah, there ya go. Look at that, you can breathe again, huh?” Akaashi nodded. The weight on his chest was gone. There was still too much happening around him, but things were starting to de-fog just a little.

“Nice, okay. What’s next?”

What next? What was bothering him?

Akaashi tugged at his shirt, whimpering. It was stuck to him and keeping him stuck in the pool of honey.

“Oh, yeah. Duh! That shirt’s all sticky too! How gross. You’re so smart, ‘Kaashi. I’m going to need some help, though. Can I ask someone?”

Akaashi whimpered. No. He didn’t want that. Why couldn’t it just be Bokuto? He didn’t want anyone else touching him.

“What about Konoha? He’s a good senpai, right? He’s nice and helpful!” Bokuto asked. That’s right. Konoha is nice. Akaashi nodded.

“Konoha, can you help me out here?”

A hand on his arm, he winced, and then he was moving, tilting the opposite direction.

“Bo, he’s burning up,” Konoha said. Something about his tone set the smallest inklings of panic off in Akaashi’s head.

“Yeah, I said he was on fire just a little bit ago, remember?” Bokuto chuckled. The panic subsided.

“No, I mean I think he’s go—“ Konoha started.

“Okay, Akaashi, shirt’s coming off!”

A rush of cold air hit him and he shivered. It was refreshing and more of the haze cleared away. He felt his feet on the ground, his butt on the bench, Bokuto’s warmth around him. Good things.

Bad things too though. The pounding in his skull. The sweat clinging to his skin. The uncomfortable warmth encasing him. Something heavy in his gut. The quiet in the locker room. The exhaustion.

“Do you want to go wash the sticky off?”

As enticing as that sounded, he didn’t want to move. He was too afraid that his legs wouldn’t listen to him. He shook his head.

“How bout a clean sweatshirt?” Bokuto asked. Clean sweatshirt? Akaashi nodded. Then he was covered again.

“Can I offer another idea, Kaashi?” Bokuto asked.

“Sleep,” Akaashi responded, his jaw still weighed down. That’s what he wanted to do now.

“Not yet, okay? In a bit, I promise. After you hear my next idea, okay?,” Bokuto reassured.

“Y-yeah,” Akaashi breathed.

“How about some water?”

Water? That would probably be a good idea in theory. Something told Akaashi that he didn’t want that, though.

“Just a sip, okay? If you hate it, I won’t make you drink anymore, alright?”

“Bokuto, what’s goin o—“ a female voice, maybe Yukie started but was cut off.

“Akaashi?”

“Then I...c’n sleep?,” he muttered. He leaned forward again, falling, but he was caught and pulled up right again. He was so tired. Would Bokuto let him sleep after this?

“Sure, Akaashi,” Bokuto agreed, rubbing his back. That felt nice.

“Kay,” he sighed.

“Great! You’re doing so good, Akaashi. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here! You always know exactly what to do,” Bokuto said, cheerily. It set some of Akaashi’s nerves at ease.

Something was placed on his lips and then his mouth was flooded with something cold and his eyes snapped open.

Everything slammed back into place all at once and he spit the water out aggressively. His poor brain observed the room around him and was immediately overwhelmed.

The colors swirling in the locker room, the burning on his skin, all the people around him, everyone’s eyes on him, the aching in his limbs. It was all too much. He jolted away from Bokuto, nearly falling off the bench.

Before he knew what was happening, something warm moved up his chest and he heaved painfully, vomiting on the floor.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled, moving towards him.

“Oh my god, Akaashi!”

“What the hell?”

“Oh no!”

Voices flooded his already overloaded senses and he scrambled weakly away, his back hitting the wall. He slapped his hands over his ears and pulled his knees into his chest.

“Everyone get out!” Bokuto commanded loudly, his presence filling the room and everyone froze.

“Now!” He yelled and everyone nodded and left.

That was good. Akaashi needed to be alone now. He needed to get a hold of himself. He needed to regain control.

Bokuto knelt in front of him.

“Go ‘way,” Akaashi whimpered, trying to scoot further away.

“No can do, Akaashi,” he shrugged, sitting down criss-cross in front of him. He held a hand out to him, but didn’t reach farther than his own knees.

“You’re alright, Akaashi. Take your time. You’re okay,” Bokuto said. It was quiet but the look on his face read ‘I’m here, you’re okay.’ It was so reassuring it made Akaashi want to cry. His lip trembled and he closed his eyes again.

“Don’t...please don’t leave,” he whispered.

“I won’t. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re in charge, alright? I’ll wait ‘til you tell me what to do again. You’re okay,” Bokuto said, firm and unwavering.

Akaashi took a deep, rattling breath in and collected his thoughts. He took an inventory of his limbs and scanned his body. After a few minutes, or seconds, or hours, the tension finally melted away and the fog in his head cleared completely.

Then the exhaustion was back. It consumed him. He slumped against the wall and removed his hands from his ears. His eyes lazily moved towards Bokuto and he saw that the ace still held his hand out. Akaashi reached for it and Bokuto smiled softly and moved towards him.

Bokuto sat against the wall beside Akaashi and wrapped an arm around him. The setter sank into Bokuto’s side, turning his face into his shoulder. Bokuto was warm, comfortable, and safe. He felt like home.

“You’ve got a fever, Akaashi,” he informed after a few minutes.

“I figured,” Akaashi muttered.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you play?”

“I just found out,” Akaashi said bluntly, pulling his head back and resting his chin on Bokuto’s shoulder.

Bokuto was staring down at him, eyes blinking owlishly. If Akaashi was at all with it, he would have laughed. As it stood though, he was slowly losing his battle with consciousness.

A frown replaced the bewildered look on Bokuto’s face and he sighed, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell, Akaashi? You have to take better care of yourself,” he grumbled.

“Sorry,” Akaashi replied lamely.

“It’s okay. Not like anyone on the team noticed either.”

That was true. However, Akaashi didn’t hold that against anyone. It wasn’t their job to make sure Akaashi wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t have the energy for that conversation though.

“Can I sleep now, Bokuto-san?” He moved his head down to Bokuto’s pillowy-pecs and sighed. Regardless of Bokuto’s answer, Akaashi’s body demanded sleep, so he let go and was out in seconds.

Sometime later, Akaashi woke up to the gentle rocking of the bus and the hushed tones of his teammates. His head was pillowed on something soft and sturdy. He blinked a few times before he groaned, registering how utterly terrible he felt.

“Oh, hey,” Konoha said and Akaashi’s eyes found the wing spiker a seat in front of him, smiling down at him.

“Think you can sit up a sec? Bo said you need to take these meds and drink something,” he said, reaching down into his bag.

Akaashi begrudgingly sat up and exhaled slowly. Konoha handed him some pills and a sports drink and Akaashi took them gratefully. Konoha scanned him. Akaashi squirmed under his gaze.

“Those should help with the fever and headache. We couldn’t find anything for nausea though, so if you need to puke again, lemme know. I have a bag.”

Akaashi nodded. He definitely felt better, more in control, than before but he knew that he wasn’t out of the danger zone yet.

Squinting, he surveyed the bus. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the team. Several of his teammates were sleeping, while others were chatting quietly or listening to music. It was a lot calmer than usual and he wondered why. He also didn’t see Bokuto anywhere.

“Konoha-san, where is Bokuto-san?” Akaashi frowned. He hoped he didn’t get Bokuto sick. Konoha raised an eyebrow at him.

“Man, you must be really out of it,” he said, shaking his head. He gestured to the space next to Akaashi and the setter turned his head, shocked to find a snoozing Bokuto directly beside him. The implications of the situation brought a rush of heat to Akaashi’s cheeks. He was positive it wasn’t from the fever.

“So so I was asleep—“

“On Bokuto’s lap, yeah,” Konoha smirked. Akaashi’s frazzled brain couldn’t comprehend how he felt about that, but with the pounding in his chest, he could assume he wasn’t upset about it.

“You scared us, ya know?” Konoha mumbled suddenly, picking at his fingers. Akaashi let out a slow breath and opened his mouth to apologize, but Konoha shook his head.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. None of us knew you were sick and according to Bo, you didn’t either,” he chuckled before getting serious again.

“You got all quiet and spacey and you were hyperventilating. It was like you didn’t really see us and didn’t quite know where you were. Then you just freaked out and Bokuto made us leave.”

Akaashi frowned, trying to remember. There was definitely some recollection of a lack of control and intense heat, but he couldn’t recall explicit details.

“I’m sorry, Konoha-san. I don’t really remember,” he said. Konoha nodded.

“I figured as much. It’s a good thing Bokuto was there. Honestly we probably would have made things worse if he hadn’t stayed calm and taken charge.”

“Yeah. I have some memory of Bokuto being there, but I’m afraid I don’t know what to thank him for exactly.”

All he remembered was feelings of warmth and safety. Konoha cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He didn’t look at Akaashi and the setter felt guilty for burdening his upperclassmen.

“He wouldn’t let any of us near you. Gave us a terrifying look if we tried. I don’t know when he found out about your fever, but when I tried to say something he gave me such a death glare that I shut up pretty quick.” Konoha sighed, glancing at Bokuto.

“Why would he…” Akaashi questioned, staring at Bokuto’s sleeping face. It was serene and he appeared happy and relaxed, even after today’s events. The pounding in Akaashi’s chest made itself known again.

“Uh, well, after we got you on the bus, we asked him what happened,” Konoha explained. “He told us you were sick and apologized for being so stern with us. He said that if we tried to tell you what to do or gave you any distressing news that you’d just freak out more.”

Akaashi’s head swung around so fast, it made him dizzy.

“He said that?”

The fact that Bokuto knew what was running through Akaashi’s head was astonishing. Sure, his need for control was pretty obvious, but he never elaborated on it or talked about it. He never thought that anyone realized the scope of how they affected him.

Konoha laughed again, “yeah. Honestly we thought he was being his normal helpless self. He kept asking you what to do and Saru and I almost yelled at him for being insensitive. But when he was the only one you asked for, we let him do whatever.”

“Wow, uh, I’ll have to thank him,” Akaashi stared at Bokuto again, increasing admiration for the ace blossoming in his chest.

“Yeah, for sure. But hey, for now, just get some rest. We called your mom to meet us at the school. We should be back in like twenty minutes or so.” Konoha turned back around in his seat and settled himself in.

“Turning around on a bus is really dangerous,” Konoha said casually, “I wonder why Bokuto wanted to sit in the back where no one can talk to him.” With that, he put his headphones in and Akaashi knew the conversation was over.

Well...if no one was looking, would it be the end of the world if Akaashi indulged himself in taking a brief nap? On the only pillow he could find at the moment? He was sick after all.

With a deep breath, Akaashi laid back down on Bokuto’s lap. He moved the ace’s hand out from under his back and put it over his stomach. When he made to let go, Bokuto’s hand grabbed his wrist loosely. Akaashi took a moment to be shocked, but then pulled his wrist out of Bokuto’s grasp, only to replace it with his own.

Safe. Warm. Home.

(Later, Akaashi would find out that Konoha is a snake and a liar and turned around on the bus again despite its apparent “danger.” However, if it was only because of the picture the wing spiker sent him of Akaashi sleeping on his new favorite pillow, he decided not to chew him out for it.)

[astralsweetness]

Overstimulating Hui (m)

➣ This was literally only written bcs of this post by @kpoppwriter​ who graciously allowed me to expand upon it a tiny bit. 🥺 Thank you so much for letting me. I wrote this in the one hour gap I had between Chemistry and Microbiology (so it’s prob not that great, and only like, 1.6k words.. and not proofread...), forgot all about it, and then remembered it on his birthday... so happy birthday Hui! 😂

➣ Warnings: Overstimulation, some tears (positive), use of a safeword (kind of), oral, a repeat use of a line from my Hui fic to kind of tie the two together

“Are you going to cum for me again, sweetheart?” The words are said into the feverish skin of Hui’s neck, lips sliding along his pulse point – a few tears have slipped from the corners of his eyes, always so responsive to you, and you move to kiss them away, distracted only by the way he turns to you for a kiss to his lips instead.

“Yes, I’m – it’s so much –“ He’s whining, a soft keen lingering in his throat long after words fail him, and you’re treated to an absolutely gorgeous view as he comes undone completely, muscles locking up as he cums on both your hand and his lower stomach. There’s already a mess of pre-cum and his last orgasm covering his skin, and all this does is make him even more of a mess. It makes you want to break him down into pieces before putting him back together, your fingers dancing teasingly along the head of his cock now instead of the rough and fast strokes you’d been giving him moments before.

“Don’t stop..!” There’s a deep furrow to his brow, a rough quality to his voice that sends a burst of pure white heat through you. He reaches a hand out to you pleadingly, and you don’t think twice about interlacing your fingers. You can feel the way it trembles in your grasp. “Please, I can – one more –“

He’s rambling, eyes squeezed shut, and you recognize this, remove your hand from his weeping and abused cock completely – he snaps his eyes open with a gasp, the sunset hue of his eyes less apparent than the darkness of his blown pupils.

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Green.” He answers you with a ragged moan, curling his body towards yours lying next to him – he’s tired and overstimulated, in a fragile state of mind, and you don’t believe he’s telling the truth.

It’s not his fault, he’s not trying to lie to you – just like everything else in his life, Hui had the tendency to push himself without even realizing he was doing so. Continuing right now without giving him any time to recover was a surefire way to plunge him into a deep headspace that would take quite a bit of time to get out of, and that wasn’t your goal for tonight.

“Well, I’m kind of yellow right now sweetie, so let’s just breathe for a bit, okay?” You haven’t even finished your sentence before his head is dropping back against the pillow, tension draining from his body as his eyes slip shut – this is how it usually goes when he’s been overworked, him pushing his limits without noticing and you taking care of him without a second thought. His thumb swipes a soothing pattern across the back of your hand, the best he can do to try and soothe you in his fucked-out state.

It makes your heart lurch with love, how dedicated he is to you even when he’s covered in sweat and his own cum, breathing hard.

“Such a good boy for me, Hwitaek.” You fill the silence with soft assertions, mindless praise that is no less meaningful just because they spill off of your tongue as effortlessly as breathing. “You work so hard all the time, and it makes me so happy that you trust me to break you apart like this. Perfect boy. Beautiful, and all for me.”

“Yours..” He breathes softly, shifting the last few centimeters needed to press his body flush against you, rolled onto his side now. He’s sticky and hot and you don’t mind it in the slightest, smiles as he buries his nose into your neck, still holding your hand. “All yours.” It’s not quite an I love you, something adjacent to it, almost there but not exactly, but it resonates within you all the same.

“Are you still green, sweetheart? Still wanting to cum one more time?” Your fingers (the ones not being held hostage by his own) drift to his bare hip as you ask – his breathing has evened out, though it still hitches softly in his throat at the simple slide of your hand across the slope of his pelvis.

“Yes – please, one more, I can do one more, I’m still –“ His words catch up to him eventually and he falls silent, an abrupt cut-off to his whining pleas. “Are you? Green, I mean.”

“I am, darling.” It almost hurts how much you love him, how hard your heart beats at his soft questioning. “You’re still hard, is what you were going to say, right Hwitaek?” He doesn’t bother responding to your question verbally, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the juncture of your jaw and neck in an affirmative instead. “I’ll take care of you, Hui, I promise, just lay back.”

He goes easily when you nudge at his shoulder, rolls onto his back again and watches as you slide down his body, depositing kisses onto his heated skin as you go. You don’t try to let go of his hand, knowing it’d either be impossible or result in a sulking Hui, even as you brought him to his third orgasm. (He took hand holding very seriously.)

When you take him into your mouth the weight of him is familiar on your tongue, the distinctive taste of his past orgasms mixing with his pre-cum flooding your senses.

He is instantly loud at the feeling, shouts at the overwhelming heat and soft velvet slide of your mouth on his cock, back arching off the bed. Your interlocked fingers are squeezed tighter.

“Fuck, I don’t – I can’t –“ You’re not sure what he’s trying to say but hum an acknowledgement anyway, feeling a surge of pride at the ragged sob the minute vibrations rips from his throat. You can hear the tears in his voice, can follow the litany of “fuck, it’s so good, fuck, fuck, so good” until they hang in the air all around you, like verbal markers of every piece of him you manage to chip away.

“I’m gonna cum..” He whispers softly, broken and teary, so completely at odds with the way all of his other sounds are loud and whining. It makes your heart clench with love – everything about him you love, from the way he trembles as you pull off and replace your mouth with your fist to the way he sobs into the kiss you initiate as his release coats your hand, curling into you as his hips make small twitches forward. It’s not as shattering as his other ones had been, not as loud or as big, but his chest heaves like the air is being stolen from him before it hits his lungs.

“You did so good, my love, so good.” You raise your hand (his still firmly stuck to yours) so you can pepper the back of his knuckles with small kisses. “Are you with me still, Hwitaek?”

He nods once, small and shaky, eyes squeezed shut – but it’s all you needed from him and you brush away his tears with the thumb of your free hand, continue to whisper compliments against his temple, pausing only to press a kiss to his forehead.

It takes two minutes before he can release your hand, half a minute for you to wet a washcloth with warm water before you’re back at his side, and a minute and a half for you to wipe him down and remove the towel you’d placed down earlier. During it all he keeps his eyes shut, but by the time you’ve finished cleaning him up he’s gazing at you softly, outright laughs weakly when you suggest him putting sleeping clothes on.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to move for the next six hours.” His voice gives away just how tired he is – it dips off at the end in pitch, wavers slightly in the beginning. You press your lips to his in a chaste kiss, trying not to let your smile disrupt it too much – it does, but you don’t think he particularly minded considering his own smile. His hair is a sweaty mess, and you make a mental reminder to insist on taking a shower together whenever he wakes up tomorrow.

“I’m going to wrestle you into underwear then, but other than that you’re on your own.” Your words are met with another soft laugh, sleepier than before – he’s fading fast, though he does try his best to not be complete dead-weight when you help dress him.

Another minute and a half and you’ve changed into your own sleeping clothes – which is literally just underwear and one of his shirts that you swear isn’t even his considering how far it hangs past your hips – sliding into bed behind him so you can wrap your arm around his waist. He reaches for your hand that rests on his stomach, holds it just like he had been doing the entire time before, and you press a kiss to the back of his neck because of it.

“Thank you for letting me do all that to you, sweetie – you’re so good, Hwitaek, such a wonderful boy. You did so well.” Your own words are starting to get softer as sleep creeps up on you, and Hui doesn’t respond verbally but he does squeeze your hand once before running his thumb over your knuckles lovingly, back and forth.

You are half-asleep when he speaks next, whisper-quiet and clearly almost asleep himself – you can’t hear him clearly, slurred and spoken into the pillow, but you feel it deep in your core.

A soft ‘I love you too’ leaves your lips, settling gently onto his skin, a comfortable weight as he finally drifts to sleep.

[annabethy]

secret relationships!

in which their relationship is in the open and it’s nothing like she expected,, part 3,, percabeth (i got stuck on this for a week so if you’re cringing, don't worry bc i am too lol)

Annabeth can’t stand still right now. No matter how hard she tries to, she knows that there is no preventing herself from pacing in circles around her apartment. Percy is perched carefully on her bed, watching her with humor in his eyes.

“Come here,” he says, opening his arms towards her. She walks into the space between his legs, reluctantly letting him pull her onto his lap. His arms wrap around her back, and she buries her face against his chest.

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “It’ll be okay.”

“She’s going to hate me.”

“Calypso is not going to hate you,” Percy tries, rubbing her back. “You’re her best friend.”

“Exactly. I’m her best friend, and I’m dating the guy she’s in love with. A best friend doesn’t do that.”

“You didn’t plan for this to happen.”

“But it did,” Annabeth says, frustrated.

She really has no idea how it happened. She never would’ve let this happen, but it happened anyways. She fell in love with the guy her best friend has wanted to be with for years, but it’s worse because Annabeth didn’t say anything. She let Calypso go on about Percy as though nothing was happening — as though Annabeth hasn’t been hooking up with Percy for weeks.

Percy, sweet and all too good for her, kisses the top of her head and holds her tighter. “You’ll be okay.”

“When I end up a loser with no friends, will you still love me?” Annabeth asks.

“I’ll be your friend,” he says.

“That’s something that you’d say to a loser with no friends.”

Percy chuckles and flops backwards onto the bed, dragging Annabeth up over him. She straddles his waist, balancing herself on her arms in front of her, and she frowns.

“You’re too calm about this, Jackson.”

Percy’s fingers thread in her hair to bring her face down to his. She keeps her face still as he kisses her, and he snorts against her lips. “Really?”

“I refuse to kiss you if you’re going to make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” he says, laughing.

Annabeth lays down on top of him, ignoring the breath that is forced out of him as she elbows his stomach. “Do you seriously think that she’s not going to murder me on sight?”

“I seriously think that she’s not going to murder you on sight,” he says, a teasing tone to his voice. “You need to calm down or you’re going to worry yourself sick.”

“I’m already worrying myself sick,” she says.

“She’s not going to be here for another hour,” he says. “You didn’t sleep last night. Why don’t you take a nap?���

“I didn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about the whole situation.”

“So stop thinking, and you’ll be able to sleep.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but Percy doesn’t see her do it. She snuggles closer against him with no intentions of actually sleeping, but she’s just so exhausted with everything that it’s hardly a surprise when her eyes start to close. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registers Percy pulling a blanket over the two of them when it suddenly becomes much warmer.

She’s in such a deep sleep that she doesn’t notice the telltale sound of her front door lock clicking. She certainly doesn’t hear the door creak open or the footsteps down the hall that follow. It’s not until someone’s clearing her throat that her eye cracks open languidly, and she spots Calypso standing by her bed.

Annabeth wishes that she had shot up immediately, but her brain is still half-asleep so instead she shoves her face into Percy’s chest and stretches. It finally does click a few seconds later and then she’s finally separating her tangled limbs from Percy.

Calypso blinks at the scene, and then she’s looking at Annabeth. Annabeth has always been able to read Calypso’s face, but right now, she can’t tell a single thing.

Percy’s arm is still thrown partly around her waist, and Annabeth can’t think of a single thing to say.

“So.” Calypso clears her throat and pointedly looks at Percy. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“Calypso—”

Calypso cuts her off, holding a finger up at her. “So you and Percy?”

“I was going to tell you.”

“Were you though?” Annabeth notices a gleam in Calypso’s eye, and she has never been more confused than when Calypso begins to smirk. She goes to smother her smile, but Annabeth has already caught sight of it. “Tell me, Annabeth. How long have you and Percy been fucking?”

Annabeth chokes, and she hears Percy’s strangled cry behind her. “What?”

“I think I already know when all this,” Calypso gestures in their general direction, “began, but I want to hear it from you.”

Annabeth is so thrown off her game that she doesn’t know what else to say, so she just mutters, “A few months.”

“A few months,” Calypso repeats. There is a long pause, and Annabeth hears a ringing in her ears. Unexpectedly, Calypso starts laughing. “It took you long enough! I thought you were never going to tell me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Calypso crawls onto the bed, shamelessly shoving Percy away from her and settling next to Annabeth herself. Percy awkwardly rolls away, but there is still a smile on his face. “We’ve been best friends our whole lives. You really thought I wouldn’t know when my two closest friends started dating?”

“But you were always talking about how in love with him you were!”

Calypso snorts. “Yeah, that ended a while ago. I really just kept up with this whole façade because I wanted to see how far I could go before you have a mental breakdown.”

Annabeth presses her face into the bed, and Calypso does the same into the small of her back. “So you knew?” she confirms, muffled.

“It was painfully obvious,” Calypso says.

Suddenly, Annabeth feels so much like crying. She’s spent months lying to her best friend, putting herself through this torture, and there was no reason for it. If she had just trusted Calypso, then…

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” Annabeth manages, teary eyed.

“You better fucking be. I’ll let you off with a warning this time because in your defense, you did kind of think I wanted his children. But next time, I will cut your dick off.”

“I don’t have a dick.”

“Your metaphorical but also very physical dick.” Calypso laughs at her own joke and Annabeth’s misery. “I’m serious, though. If I thought I was falling in love with my best friend’s man, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“I love you,” Annabeth tells her friend. “So much.”

Calypso gives Annabeth a big, wet kiss on the cheek. “I love you more.” And she turns towards Percy. “You, sir, are a terrible influence. Making my sweet Annabeth lie to me.”

Percy raises his hands in surrender. “My bad.”

“How could I ever have liked such a peasant?” Calypso shudders dramatically. “To be clear, I never actually wanted your babies. I was just bothering Annabeth.”

“Sure.”

“Jackson,” she warns, sitting up on the bed. She swings her legs over the edge before continuing. “Don’t hurt my baby.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

With that, Calypso works towards the door, leaving the two adults in a state of overwhelming confusion. “Now, I’m going to go. You two can have lots of celebratory sex! I give you my permission,” she says, and then she’s out of Annabeth’s bedroom, the apartment door slamming shut only moments later despite the two of them calling after her.

Annabeth is only a bit flustered for what just happened, but Percy seems to already have recovered as he rolls her back on top of him. Her hair frames over them as she leans to reach his face, where he presses a long kiss to her lips. Annabeth thinks her brain is short wiring because there is no way that Calypso walks into the apartment for two seconds just to tell Annabeth she knew before leaving. Except that’s exactly what happened. She was like a fairy, in and out at the snap of her fingers.

“I told you it would be fine,” he says against her lips. “Shut up,” she says, because he did tell her. It feels so good to have it out in the open now, and to know that Calypso supported her made her feel even better. It’s a weight off her shoulder, and it’s been minutes, but she is so much lighter already.

She has the two people she loves most by her side, and that’s all that mattered to her. She is no longer stuck in the sweetest misery, and it has never felt too good to leave. She now can take a step out into her future, so she lets herself do just that, wrapped tightly in Percy’s arms and her best friend in hand.

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (5)

summary: happy birthday, roman!!! words: 2,900 / ship: dlampts (deceit/logan/virgil/patton/roman/thomas/remy) author’s note: this is part five of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts) |  read on ao3

— — —

“Rise and shine, buttercup!”

Roman swatted at the air, as if that would send away the voice trying to wake him. “Five more minutes,” he grumbled, burying his face back into a pillow.

“You said that ten minutes ago, sugar,” drawled another.

If Roman really thought about it, he’d remember that, yes, he was guilty of this charge. That didn’t mean that he would admit to it, of course! Besides, even if he did, today was his day so he should have been able to do whatever he liked.

Oh.

Oh!

Energy shot through him as he jolted up. “It’s my birthday!”

Patton’s laugh was musical, the most beautiful sound Roman could ever ask to start his morning with. “I knew we’d get there eventually.”

“I dunno, I was sure it’d take him at least another half hour,” Remy teased, standing in the doorway.

"Good morning!" Roman exclaimed, swooping in for a kiss from Patton. He happily obliged, taking it also as an opportunity to comb a hand through Roman's tangled hair.

Were it not for Remy clearing his throat a moment later, the two might have lost track of time entirely. They pulled apart, only a little sheepish about it. Patton took Roman's hands in his and gave him a tug, urging him out of bed. Thankfully, now that Roman knew what was being celebrated, he followed easily, lips curled into a grin that seemed it'd never go away.

"What's on the agenda?" He asked eagerly, curious how early it actually was and how long it'd be before his first gift.

"Get yourself dolled up first, hon," Remy told him, tilting his tumbler in the direction of the closet.

"Remy!" Patton hissed, a hint of a scolding reminder in his tone, if Roman was hearing right.

Apparently, this was all it took for Remy to remember whatever Patton was trying to say. They swapped places faster than Roman thought possible, especially with his sleep addled brain not quite keeping up. Remy looped an arm through Roman's and began leading the way to the bathroom.

Patton waved at them as he left, "see you in a bit!"

"You're up to something," Roman accused without hesitation.

"Why I never," Remy said, pouting. "When have I ever been up to anything in my whole life?"

It was, again, thanks to Roman's still half-asleep state that he could level Remy with his best unimpressed look.

"Here I am, just trying to help you look your absolute best, and you're claiming me a criminal. That's just plain unfair."

Roman couldn't deny how wonderful that sounded, actually. Doing his own makeup and hair was a regular occasion, so much so that it almost got boring to do anymore. Remy, without a doubt, could be trusted to make sure Roman's winged eyeliner would be sharp enough to kill a man. Not that Roman would ever admit it, but Remy might have been even a better makeup artist than he was.

"Alright, alright," Roman yielded, "I supposed I'd be lucky to have someone of your talent dress me up today."

Remy looked equally smug and delighted at this. He shooed Roman along to take a shower, ducking back out of the bathroom to, presumably, pick an outfit for Roman for the day. The prince used the hair and body care products that he liked to save for special occasions, singing (of course) various Disney love songs as he did. With what must've been some sort of sixth sense, Remy was on him again as soon as he was wrapped up in a bathrobe and towling his hair dry. He got to work without wasting a moment, making sure that Roman's luxurious locks were fluffy and styled just right. The swoop to his bangs had never been so perfect, if he was being honest! The makeup look was bold, reds and golds and glitter; thankfully, Remy reassured him he'd used all waterproof brands so that Roman could cry all he liked without issue.

They returned back to the bedroom, where Remy had the outfit displayed on a mannequin. It shouldn't have been a shock that he'd picked some of Roman's favorite pieces but he was pleasantly surprised all the same.

"I really do just know you that well, I guess," Remy said, nonchalantly.

Roman, lightning quick, pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving behind a lipstick print. "You do and I love you so much for it!"

While Remy blushed and stammered at the sudden affection, Roman darted ahead and began to get dressed. Remy didn't need to turn away to give Roman his privacy, all things considered, but he did anyway, fiddling with the jewelry on Roman's vanity. It took some deliberating, but he decided finally that, above all else, the rainbow jewel encrusted crown was a must for today's ensemble.

"How do I look?"

"Babe, I don't even need to—" Remy's words died on his tongue as he faced Roman. Sure, there had been no doubt that Roman would look handsome as hell, but the beaming smile and light in his eyes and bouncy excited posture… He looked so happy and radiant and— "Wow."

"Stop," Roman said, giggling.

Remy took the crown and approached. He gave Roman a half-bow, smirking up at him. "May I have the honor, your majesty?"

“Stop!" Roman repeated, squeaking.

"Never," Remy promised, standing and reaching up to nestle the accessory on Roman's head. Each strand of hair still fell perfectly into place. "Now then," he said, taking Roman's arm in his, "shall we begin the festivities?"

Getting downstairs took no time at all, though Remy did dart ahead and down the steps first, so that he could loudly announce Roman proper. Patton and Thomas cheered for him as he descended, which added only more to the warm blush that he had a feeling might be a permanent addition today to his makeup. The pair ooh'd and ahh'd over Roman's look, showering him in compliments and praise. If this was just the beginning, then he sincerely was unsure whether he'd make it out of the celebrations alive.

They gathered at the dining room table, where Virgil and Deceit were laying the finishing touches on breakfast. The spread looked delectable, every one of Roman's favorite foods, and all of it hot and freshly cooked. Logan joined them last, carrying a plate with a single biscuit on it. There was a lit candle, too, and they'd all started singing before Roman could even catch up. He blew the little fire out and made a wish - though they'd nearly all already come true at this point, anyway.

"We're breaking a record today of how many times we can sing happy birthday," Thomas said with a wink, "fair warning."

Breakfast was full of fun and light chatter. They talked about the rest of their plans (at least, the ones they weren't keeping secret) and reminisced on old milestones. Roman felt full and happy, content to just sit and listen to his loved ones talk and joke around him. He was never left out of the conversation, though, always pulled back into a topic or started one anew with. He was listened to, unequivocally, and the attention was pleasant.

Soon, the food was finished, and the group moved to the kitchen. Patton and Deceit worked together on dishes while Logan presented what would be the first of birthday treats. They were muffins with Crofter's jelly in the middle, a flavor that Roman didn't recognize.

"Roman's Razzleberry," Logan explained, looking mixed on his feelings regarding the name. "It took some experimenting, but this combination of raspberry, strawberry, and dragonfruit came out the metaphorical winner."

"It's delicious!" Roman exclaimed, taking another from the tray. "My own jam! Thank you, dearest."

They gathered in the living room next, where the furniture had been rearranged to give them space for various activities. They did start with a movie, to let their meal settle, all huddled together on the couches. Roman was squished between Virgil and Thomas, the former playing absentmindedly with Roman's fingers while Thomas trailed his hand up and down Roman's arm, leaving tingles along the way. He might have dozed off a little, warm and cozy as he was.

The short nap energized him for their next game. Charades was one of his favorites as it gave him an opportunity to really practice his acting skills. What better way to hone one's craft than by not being able to use all the normal necessary components? Playing a part without any speaking lines and having to hope he'd do well enough that his companions could guess… It was a challenge he always looked forward to!

Virgil popped out and back in shortly with snacks for them all, the apparent second birthday treat: popcorn and candies and chips and soda, all easy and quick but not any less appreciated. They split into teams of two, leaving one to be their referee, and then each round, swapping out so that they all could have a turn to play. Roman ended up the winner, to absolutely no one’s surprise, though Deceit did come in a close second.

Lunchtime had rolled around and this time, they took to each making sandwiches for themselves. Patton and Remy surprised them (well, surprised Roman) with the third and fourth birthday treats: heart shaped cookies with exquisite frosting doodles and red velvet cake pops, respectively. They were sweet and delicious and baked perfectly and Roman only resisted eating more than he could count because he knew he had to save room still for whatever Thomas and Deceit had made. After they were finished and the dishes were washed, Patton led the way back upstairs. They stopped in front of his room.

“Would it be okay if we took a trip down Memory Lane?” He asked, holding Roman’s hands. “I was thinking we could visit some birthdays past!”

Roman looked to the others, nearly overwhelmed with how much affection and love he had for them all. “Whatever you have planned, I’m all in.”

“Nap time,” Remy and Virgil chorused.

Deceit rolled his eyes while Logan stifled a laugh.

“Shh,” Thomas hushed, giving them pats on the head. It was an amusing sight, to say the least, as Remy had a couple of inches on him and Virgil’s hunched over form was shorter than them both.

Memory Lane was as warm and fuzzy as Roman remembered it. He didn’t come through here often, usually only when he and Remy needed something for a Dream, but the consistent feeling it carried of being embraced by Mom or Dad was nice. The memories they visited were nice, too: old visions of time spent with friends, trips to amusement parks, parties that ran late into the night. While they all had their moments, Roman couldn’t help but feel that his birthday today was the absolute very best of them all. By the time they exited, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so relaxed. Logan and Virgil, on the other hand, looked like they were a little tired from the adventure. He took to their sides, planting himself between them, and grabbing each of their hands. Their quiet, grateful smiles were enough to give him pleasant shivers down his spine.

“Kitchen’s off limits,” Deceit announced as they all arrived back downstairs. “None may enter.”

“Except me!” Thomas piped up.

“Except you,” Deceit agreed, giving him a not-so-secret smitten smile.

Before Roman could ask why, they’d both disappeared. His attention was quickly stolen by Remy anyway, who was dragging him down onto the couch for his and Virgil’s aforementioned nap time. Patton giggled, making sure that they had enough blankets and pillows to be comfy.

“You sleep well, okay? We’ll wake you up in a little bit!” Patton said, taking Roman’s crown for him so that it wouldn’t get in the way, and setting it carefully on the coffee table.

If Roman wanted to ask Logan and Patton to join their cuddling, he didn’t get a chance to. Remy was carding a hand through his hair, draining him of his energy with each gentle scrape of nails against his scalp. He would have declared Remy a cheater for using his powers like this, but Virgil was falling victim to it as well and having his emo nightmare curled up with him was too pleasant to allow any upset feelings, regardless of how joking or serious they were.

Roman did, in fact, nap well, especially thanks to Remy’s presence.

When he woke, his limbs were only a little stiff, but he was overall very warm and relaxed. Virgil was gone but Remy had his face tucked into the crook of Roman’s neck. His sunglasses had been removed and Roman decided it might be worth dealing with the possible attitude of rousing Remy before he was well and ready if it meant getting to see his pretty eyes.

“Pstt,” he whispered, cupping Remy’s hand in his cheek. “My sweet dreamcatcher, it’s time to wake up.”

Remy grumbled, leaning into Roman’s hold. “Sweetie, I know you aren’t trying to coax me out of slumber right now.”

“Why I never,” he teased, echoing Remy’s earlier faux offended tone.

It took a moment longer, but Roman was blessed with getting to watch Remy blink away the lingering sleep. He thought this might be the best present of them all, seeing the swirling and shimmering shades of brown in Remy’s eyes, never one color at a time. It didn’t last long, what with Remy letting his eyelids slip back closed, but that was because he was leaning in to kiss Roman, and that sort of made it worth it.

“I should’ve known better than to leave you two alone,” Virgil groused suddenly, startling them apart.

“You’re just jealous I got to kiss the most handsome prince in the world before you did,” Remy said cheekily, reaching over to grab his sunglasses from the table and sliding them back on.

Roman couldn’t have prepared even if he wanted to. Virgil moved so quickly, thanks largely in part to those flight reflexes, swooping in and capturing Roman’s lips with his own. The kiss was fierce and passionate and even as Virgil pulled away, Roman followed after him. He sighed, disappointed for it to have ended so quickly. Virgil stuck his tongue out at Remy and then shot away as Remy lunged for him. They chased each other around the living room, laughing and throwing playful insults back and forth. Roman watched fondly from the couch, warm still in their nest of blankets.

Hands pressed down on his shoulders, massaging the post-nap aches away. Roman looked up, finding Logan above him. Logan smiled, bending slightly to give him a kiss on the forehead.

“Troublemakers, the both of them,” he said, only pretending to be disappointed.

“You’re one to talk,” Roman pointed out. “I’ve seen what you and Deceit get up to.”

“Shh,” Logan hurried to interrupt. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Patton called suddenly from the kitchen.

Roman’s stomach growled, surprising him; he wondered how long they’d slept for. Logan came around to the front of the couch and helped Roman up. Virgil and Remy had already darted away to try and steal bits of food.

“Has your birthday been so far satisfactory?” Logan asked, taking a moment to return Roman’s crown to his head. It was a testament to Remy’s hard work that his hair still looked flawless.

“It’s been perfect,” Roman answered enthusiastically.

Dinner consisted, once more, of Roman’s favorite foods. The cupcakes were courtesy of Thomas, another birthday treat, and while he seemed embarrassed about the messy frosting, Roman thought it overwhelmingly endearing; he especially liked the edible glitter and fondant stars. As they were nearing the end of their meal, Deceit procured the final birthday treat: champagne glasses for them all, filled with bubbly cider. There was another happy birthday song as Patton brought the cake out to the dining room. Roman had definitely started crying by now, as it all came together just how much they’d done for him today.

“A toast,” Deceit began, holding up his glass. The others followed. “To our favorite author, poet, artist, actor.”

“To the prince of our dreams,” Remy chimed in.

“And our hearts!” Patton added.

“To the best Creativity I could ask for,” Thomas continued.

“To the greatest hero,” Virgil suggested.

“To a wise and clever leader, one whom we can always trust to take care of us,” Logan rounded out.

Roman wiped frantically at his eyes, uncertain whether his makeup was smudge proof as well, but not caring one bit. “Thank you,” he said, voice wobbly and thick with tears. “I love you guys more than I can say.”

Deceit, from his seat beside him, used his free hand to take one of Roman’s. He pressed a kiss to his knuckles and then held that hand to his cheek. “How unfortunate for your wellbeing,” he threatened sweetly, “because I think that we can say plenty.”

And they did, praising him on anything to everything: from his appearance to his creations, his traits and what made him tick, and the cute faces he made without realizing, and every tiny simple little thing they adored about him. It was, to say the least, the best way to end what had been the best day.

[gottlem]

‘let me go’ but like angsty lemyanka maybe if lemon is moving back to nyc from toronto 💔

here u go ! the most angsty thing i have ever written and will probably ever write. i havent proofread it bc its late, im tired and i got a bit carried away and ended up writing 1.7k words so.... yeah. hope u like it ! <3

“let me go”

Lemon and Priyanka were clearly in love. Everyone knew it, everyone could see. Deep down, they both knew that they were, but no matter how many times they ended up in eachothers beds, it just never came up. Because if it did, well, Lemon’s not too sure what would happen. But it would be a lot, maybe too much. So she decided to stick with friends with benefits, nothing more, and it worked. For a while. Until she didn’t know what counted as overstepping anymore and calling Priyanka her friend just felt like a lie, even though it wasn’t, not really. But the ‘not really’ part is what fucked her up. 

Lemon could only deal with so much. She had her walls, they were strong and tall and Priyanka was the only one who could get through, but they just didn’t feel like they were protecting her anymore. One day, she feared they would become a little too high, a little too unstable, and crush her. And she didn’t want Priyanka to have to deal with that. 

She had already made the decision to move back to New York before she even admitted it to herself. She tended to listen to her brain over her heart - you’re less likely to get hurt that way. Somehow, this time round she couldn't quite tell which part she was listening to, but before she knew it, she was on the phone to her friend Jan asking for a place to stay. 

Jan was more than happy, albeit a little concerned, for Lemon to live with her for a bit, claiming she could use the company and the help with rent. It was a win-win situation. Though, was Lemon winning? She wasn’t so sure, she was however very stubborn and once she had made her mind up, there was no going back. It would be nice to see her New York friends again, they hadn’t fallen out of touch but things are always harder when you’re so far apart. Besides, she needed a change of scenery, she missed walking the streets of the city that never sleeps. 

The real reason behind her decision was Priyanka. She didn’t tell anyone about it but Jan, knowing she would need at least some form of support once the train arrived. She just couldn’t bear to keep up with whatever their current situation was, but also she wasn’t sure she had the courage to talk about her real feelings, so the only option she could see was to just run away. They could keep in contact, a couple of texts and maybe a bi-weekly phone call, and Lemon could find some other girl to fall in love with and then she would be over her. 

She didn’t know how to be in love, and even if Priyanka could show her, she didn’t know if she was ready, if she was prepared. Because love was scary. Commitment, too. It’s not that Lemon was scared they would end up breaking up, she was scared that they would never break up. She was still young, and while some people long to find the love of their life early on, Lemon found herself staring at hers right in the face and it just felt too overwhelming. 

She had started hinting to Priyanka that she missed her New York friends about a month before she planned to be leaving. Priyanka would suggest a week’s visit, and Lemon would just shrug it off.  She just didn’t want it to come out of the blue when she finally told her that she'd be moving. And yet, all her hints didn’t stop Priyanka from being surprised. 

It was dark out, and the pair lay not so comfortably in Lemon’s bed. It was too hot but neither had the energy to do anything about it, so they stayed there in silence, Lemon slowly building up the courage to speak. 

“Hey, Pri?” She barely recognised her own voice, hating the crack that came out when she started speaking. Priyanka hummed in response, turning her head to face Lemon’s, eyes trained on the side of Lemon’s head as the yellow haired girl stared blankly at the ceiling. Eye contact would be too much, she didn’t want to see Priyanka’s face when she told her. 

“I’m moving back to New York.”

Silence. 

More silence.

Then, the shuffling of covers and creaks of floorboards as Priyanka grabbed her stuff and left. Somehow Lemon didn’t register any of it until the door had shut behind her. She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

The next day, Priyanka showed up at her door again, not too long after the sun rose. She looked tired, but Lemon said nothing because she probably looked the same.

“Sorry for just, leaving. I, uh, I was pissed off? I think?” Lemon’s jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry, you were pissed? At me? Priyanka, I get that I could have told you sooner but don’t pretend like telling you would have made me change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t it? Why are you moving anyway? When are you moving?”

“I miss my friends. I miss New York. I need a change, a get-away. I leave in two weeks”

“Jesus Christ,” Priyanka almost stomped past Lemon, sitting on the couch with an angry thud.  “You’re telling me, you move to New York in two weeks, because you miss your friends, and I am only just finding out now? That is bullshit, Lemon”

Of all of the reactions Lemon anticipated, this was not one of them. They never argued. They always poked fun, never too serious, always having a good time. But this was new. Lemon didn’t even know how to argue with Priyanka. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to react to hearing her full name, and the way she said it too. Lemon couldn’t quite place a finger on how Priyanka was feeling, not used to not being able to read her like an open book, and she fucking hated it. But if Pri wanted to argue, then they were going to argue. Lemon didn’t make this decision on whim, she needed to do this, she needed to move, she didn’t have a choice. 

“God, Priyanka, do I need to tell you everything? It’s not like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” She regretted saying it the second it came out of her mouth, no matter how true it was. They avoided the word ‘girlfriend’ like the plague, but apparently this was the line that needed to be crossed to have this discussion.

“No, you don’t need to tell me everything, but if you’re moving to New York? Yeah, maybe tell me. Maybe mention it before you have to leave in two weeks, for fucks sake, Lem”

She had stopped shouting, her voice sounding a bit more tired and defeated that angry. Things were complicated. Lemon thought running away would be the easiest option. And maybe she was right. Maybe the easiest option was still hard, but it was too late to change her mind now. The damage had been done, and now Priyanka knew that she would be getting on the train in two weeks time, and they didn’t know when they’d see eachother again after that.

They spent all day talking. Avoiding direct eye contact, getting goosebumps every time their hands accidentally touched. Unsaid ‘I love you’s floated around them, taunting them every time Lemon went over her excuse for moving. They hid behind sad smiles and even sadder eyes, but never managed to actually surface, not like they ever did anyways. 

They pretended like nothing happened the next day. Instead, they opted to make the most of the last week and a bit left they had together, refusing to mention the fact that time was slipping, or how much they would be lost without each other. Lemon spent her nights on the phone to Jan, planning logistics, but mostly trying not to cry about how she was leaving the woman who was quite possibly her soulmate in another country for however long without telling her how she feels.

Her final day in Toronto came round after what felt like a short eternity. She was only slightly ready. Her yellow suitcase rolled next to her and she drowned out the noise of the train station with her earphones on full volume. A coffee warmed her shaking hands as she waited for the train she was obnoxiously early for. Not long past before she felt someone sit down next to her and place a hand on her shoulder, startling her from the daze she had managed to force herself into.

Of fucking course it was Priyanka. And of course she was looking at Lemon with tears threatening to shed. Lemon placed her hand in Priyanka’s after taking out her earphones, and gave it a small squeeze.

“I don’t want you to go” Lemon wished she could kiss her and say she didn’t want to go either. But she couldn't because she would be lying. She wanted to go. She loved Priyanka, and Priyanka loved her. They both knew it, without it being said. But Lemon just wasn’t ready. 

“I know. I’ll miss you” Priyanka shook her head and tears began to fall down her cheeks, one by one then all at once. 

“God, Lem, what went wrong? Do I have to fucking beg you to stay or something? I don’t understand why you have to move all the way to New York, I don’t know what I’m even supposed to do without you here”

Lemon refused to cry. She absolutely refused. When she felt the back of her eyes stinging with tears, she simply shook her head and pushed them back. Not now. Not in front of Pri.

She took her other hand, and looked Priyanka in the eyes, inching in closer and closer. 

“Pri, I’m going, and it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna be fine, and you’re gonna be fine, okay love? It’s time to just… let me go.”

Lemon released her hands and stood up, the action followed by Priyanka, who gave her a bone crushing hug, still crying. When she finally let go, she gave her a small kiss on the top of her head, and Lemon had to hold back her tears for the millionth time within the past five minutes. They looked at each other for just a moment, once again opting to not say anything, despite it being their final chance. Lemon gave a small nod, as if in response to the silence, before turning away and walking to her platform. She didn’t look behind her. And if she stopped holding back her waterfall of tears the second she faced the other way, she could hide that from Priyanka too.

[justsomefluff]

Could I request an Ateez reaction in which the members find out that one of the other members has a crush on their s/o (the other member possibly doesn't know their dating) please and thank you!

Ask and you shall receive!

I made this one so that you have been friends with the guys for a while anyway, so that’s why no one is suspicious of you dating.

Hongjoong:

One day you’re just chillin in the dorms right

It’s about to be movie night!!!

The best night when you have literally the funniest people with you

Once everyone figures out what snacks they need and actually sits down

you plop next to Joongie for some secretive snuggles

But as soon as you sit down, Wooyoung starts yelling about how he wanted to cuddle with you during the movie

Everyone teases him because even you know he has a crush on you (he’s not shy and he has a big mouth so you found out pretty quick)

Since nobody knows that you and Hongjoong are together, you force yourself to go over to Wooyoung instead

It’s almost impossible to ignore your boyfriend’s pout though

He’s staring at you from across the room with the saddest look on his face for like 20 minutes of the movie

you can’t even concentrate, you just wanna go back over there so bad

but you don’t want to expose your relationship just yet

Hongjoong will just have to suck it up for tonight

He does not suck it up, however

after another 15 minutes, he stand up really abruptly and marches over to you and Wooyoung

everybody is watching because no one knows what he’s doing all of a sudden

grabs your hand and pulls you back to his seat

cue more complaining from Wooyoung

“Well we’re together, I'm allowed”

everyone just kind of goes into stunned silence

eventually.... “YOU’RE WHAT”

bunch of yelling from everyone while Joong just yanks a blanket up over the both of your heads

you peck him on the lips and eventually the yelling stops and you can come out to finish the movie

Seonghwa:

possessive mf

but he was the one who didn’t want to tell anyone in the first place

So when Yeosang starts flirting with you, all he can really do is be bitter about it

He watches as you laugh along, obviously not getting that one of your boyfriend’s best friends is coming onto you

You and Yeosang had been talking together for about an hour, just catching up on life and stuff

Seonghwa is getting fed up, no lie

He knew Yeosang had a crush, but he always thought he would be too shy to ever make a move

But all of a sudden Seonghwa feels threatened

he manages to catch your eye across the room and you smile and wave

he just frowns, making you pout and excuse yourself from Yeosang

you head over to him and ask him what’s wrong

He just pulls you into a kiss, catching you completely by surprise

as your eyes flutter shut, his stay open and on Yeosang who is watching with his mouth hanging open

He mouths “sorry, hyung”

Seonghwa pulls away, nods at the younger, and smiles at you

“what was that all about?? What if people saw??”

“don't care anymore”

you don't really question his sudden change of heart

all you can think about is finally being able to cuddle with him even when the boys are around lmao

Yunho: 

(who gave him the right to look so professional here like what)

squishyyyyyyyyyyy

is hanging around the studio one day when he overhears what sounds like your laugh

he’s like “they aren’t even here today wth”

so he goes to find the source and comes across Hongjoong FaceTiming you

he is about to rush over to join and say hi to his love but stops when he hears Hongjoong speak again

sounds like a confession... Yunho’s cheeks get all red and his eyes get a little glossy just because he’s overwhelmed

he sticks around to hear what you say

he knows that you love him but, at the same time, there's a part of him that's really insecure and scared

“Aw, Joongie...that’s sweet and all but...” you’re stalling because you can’t decide if you should tell him the truth

Yunho is literally dying as he waits for your answer

“Joong, I’m with Yunho... we didn’t want people to know but I think this is a pretty good reason to tell you. I’m so sorry”

Yunho lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding

lets a tear fall because he was so so nervous poor thing

he backs out of the room so that he doesn’t hear more

he low-key feels bad about even overhearing that much but at the same time he feels more confident in your relationship 

he shoots you a text later telling you how much you mean to him and everything, but he doesn’t bring up Hongjoong

he knows that you will end up telling him anyway but he doesn’t want you to think negatively of him for eavesdropping

just so happy that you chose him

Yeosang: 

so Yeosang is really confident about your relationship and loves you a lot 

but he's shy about letting other people know

but when he notices that Jongho has been making extra efforts to be near you lately, he doesn’t take it lightly

he wouldn’t be nervous if Jongho knew you were in a relationship

but since he doesn’t, Yeosang is worried that he might try and make a move on you

Jongho had talked to a couple of the other guys about his infatuation with you

but he had suspected that Yeosang also had a crush on you so he had held off

but the other guys told Jongho to go for it, since they didn't know the truth either

So as Yeosang is watching Jongho talking to you one day, he notices that Jongho’s fingers keep “accidentally” grazing yours

He’s getting angrier as he watches

but he isn’t angry at you or Jongho, just angry with himself for being to scared to say anything

eventually, he musters up some courage and saunters over to you and Jongho and takes your hand

right in front of Jongho’s salad

And Jongho is immediately like “crap” and walks away

and you’re super confused because what in the world am I missing what just happened

But Yeosang just kinda giggles and asks you if you wanna go get lunch

San:

now San I think is one to actually get pretty jealous

like if he sees someone trying anything with you, he’s gonna be big mad right away

But it is much more difficult to get mad when it’s Seonghwa who is after you

San is definitely afraid of coming off as disrespectful to his elder if he tries to step in and stop anything

highkey hopes that you’ll say something so that he won't have to

One day Seonghwa actually comes to San

to talk about you

he’s just rambling on and on about how cute he thinks you are, totally oblivious to San’s irritated expression

San is fuming

eventually he’s gonna snap and be like “LOOK BRO WE’RE DATING”

and Seonghwa is like O.O

then San is apologizing like a mad man because he really didn’t mean for it to come out like that

he just legit couldn’t listen to someone else talk about his girlfriend anymore it was infuriating

Seonghwa’s like “...it’s cool, I get why you’d be mad”

then he assures him that he won’t try anything now that he knows about you two

But he also scolds San for not telling him sooner lmao

Gives an apology too just to make his lil bro feel a little better

Mingi:

(MY MF BABYYYYYY)

So, Mingi gets insecure, I bet

When other tall boy, Yunho, also proclaims that you are his ideal type during a revealing round of truth or dare

there is a lot of yelling from the guys, as you are literally playing with them and he just SAID THAT?

But Mingi does not think it’s funny

Suddenly Wooyoung leans over and whispers in his ear

“we are gonna try to get y/n to say she wants dare so she will have to kiss Yunho”

Like it’s sweet that they’re planning to be wingmen for their buddy Yunho but Mingi is so SAD

scoots an inch closer to you and shakes his head at Wooyoung

“why are you pouting, just help us lmao”

he shakes his head again, but Wooyoung has already turned his attention back to the game

finally, your turn comes around and all the guys start making up excuses as to why you should take a dare

“Cmon y/n we just had two truths in a row, pleaseee”

“y/n you gotta pick dare or its not fun”

and you’re laughing and about to give in and ask for a dare when you look to Mingi and he’s making big eyes at you

you cock an eyebrow at him and he leans over to tell you what the guys were planning

your eyes go wide and the other guys are like “MINGI YOU TATTLED DIDNT YOU”

so you turn your head and peck Mingi on the lips in front of everyone

chorus of “oh my god” “woah” and other things

“Sorry, Yunho” but he just shrugs like “it’s cool, Id rather you be with one of us than someone random. even if its not me”

Mingi is smiling again and thats all that matters really and he snuggles you for the rest of the game

Wooyoung:

Wooyoung is pretty well-attuned to things that happen around you

always watching you out of the corner of his eye like a stalker

it’s just cuz he loves you tho

so he notices Mingi hitting on you pretty much immediately

honestly finds it kind of amusing for a little bit

but then little things come up in his memory

fans saying that he was too short for you and that you’d be better with someone else

gets down on himself really fast thinking about that kind of stuff

still watching you and Mingi talking

wants to walk over there and hang all over you until Mingi gets the point

so that is exactly what he does

waddles over and slings his arms around your waist

head on your shoulder

kisses your neck and you squeal because MINGI IS RIGHT THERE I MEAN SERIOUSLY WOOYOUNG

and Mingi kind of laughs it off but he’s a little sad bc he liked you ya know

after Mingi goes away you hit Wooyoung softly on the shoulder and tell him to go talk to Mingi and apologize or something

He agrees but he’s like “you have to give me cuddles afterwards”

who could say no to that? couldn't be me

Jongho:

Okay so you and Jongho are coming back from a group dinner and he sat in the front while you crammed in the backseat with WooSan

halfway through the car ride home, you fall asleep and your head flops onto San’s shoulder

he’s immediately giddy about his crush sleeping on him like his dreams are coming true

Jongho’s like “imma break your dreams like my apples bro”

Woo is giggling because San is being so soft for you and stroking your hair and everything 

Jongho just kinda watches in the rearview as San takes pictures and stuff

But Jongho just purses his lips and tries his best not to say anything

the last straw that finally breaks Jongho’s resolve is when he catches San pressing a kiss to the top of your head

“Hyung, please don't kiss them in front of their boyfriend”

San and Wooyoung look at each other like “are you the boyfriend”

they look at the driver “is he the boyfriend?”

and then their two collective brain cells join together and are like “JONGHO IS THE BOYFRIEND”

San is a little sad but his happiness at the maknae finding love is more prevalent

They start squealing and demanding details about your relationship

“when did this start” “why didn't you tell us” “did you tell your parents”

Jongho just smiles to himself as they throw questions at him

then you wake up and slap San on the boob for waking you up and then flick Wooyoung for being noisy too lmao

Jongho smiles at you and when you get back to the dorms, he gives you a smooch right where everyone can see (because he can do that now)

[jj-5656]

🎄Fa-la-la-late🎄 With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N:Ummmm...hello? First off, thank you all so much for the love on my last couple imagines. Sorry for the hiatus, what can I say junior year is as hard as they say it is. Anyway, I was supposed to be sleeping last night but I was writing this instead. Leave it to me to become inspired at the worst times. This is for everyone celebrating a holiday this year without your family because of the pandemic (which is still a thing btw.) Also, this is very long but I love it. Okay enough talking, enjoy!

TW: None except...Well, Klaus is Klaus. And more random POV change bc I can!

He’s running, sprinting really, brown bag tucked haphazardly under his arm as it’s contents jostle around inside with his movements. Filled with last minute groceries for the evenings event. Never in Diego Hargreeves’ life had he thought he’d be rushing home in preparations for a Christmas party, in a red sweater for that matter. But what can he say, a year into his relationship with her and he’s officially whipped. Ever since the two of you met you had introduced him to an enormity of things he’d never considered important. Whether it be birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, you’ve added so much more to him that he could never really repay you for. So, he figures making a very last minute trip to the ever so crowded grocery store on Christmas Eve is worth it. Having to deal with other crazed and unprepared city people for three types of cheeses, four types of crackers, and a particularly expensive bottle of wine.

Apparently a Christmas party, or any get together for that matter, is simply incomplete without an assortment of appetizers. Right, Diego Hargreeves hosting a Christmas party for his siblings. The same ones who only learned about holidays in their World Culture textbooks during hours sectioned off on their daily regimen instead of actually celebrating them. The biting cold reminds him of the lonely Christmas’ throughout his life, which was at the time any other day of the year to him. He snaps out of the dark thoughts when he realizes he’s made it up the stairs and to the front door, a chorus of clanging pots and curses coming from inside.

He fumbles through the door, reminding himself he’s supposed to be rushing, but the beautifully decorated apartment distracts him from the task at hand. The warm feeling he’s still getting used to fluttering through his stomach as he recalls when you first surprised him with the holiday decor.

“It’s not too much, right? I know you never really celebrated Christmas, and neither of us are religious but my family always made the holidays a big deal and I thought-”

“You did all this?” His brown eyes are wide, gazing up at the assortment of twinkling lights aligning the interior of your shared home, a beautiful tree full of red and green ornaments in the middle of your living room. It’s stunning, to say the least, and Diego’s sure he’s never felt so much at home as he does now.

You’re gazing up at him, eyes nervously darting between your boyfriend and the assortment of ornaments. He walks forward from the entryway to admire the garland above the fireplace and the evergreen that just barely scruffs the top of the ceiling. It’s all new to him, and a bit overwhelming, and suddenly Diego realizes the resentment he’s held toward the holiday ever since he was a child was completely misguided. Because the joy he feels now, the warmth tingling throughout his body is foreign but so comforting.

“You hate it, don’t you? Listen, I just thought maybe I’d try and show you Christmas isn’t all about consumerism and selling shitty-”

“It’s beautiful.” He interrupts again, and you swear there’s a moisture begging to leave his eyes as he finally looks to you with an awed expression.

“I don’t, I’ve never...I always hated Christmas. I guess because I never had a real family as a kid. But this, this is j-just...Thank you.”

*End Flashback*

“You’re late!” You shout as the front door bursts open, a familiar thud of boots kicking snow off their bottoms and then walking towards the kitchen. Diego walks in with hands full with groceries, hair wet and messy with flurries of snow littering the raven strands. You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, dopey smile on his face as he sets the bags down on the counter.

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d still be grumpy at the fact that we’re hosting.” You’re less than presentable at the moment, having been cooking all day and leaving getting yourself ready for last minute. You puff a stray hair out of your face as he responds.

“Nothing, and actually I am still upset that my siblings are coming over.” He leans against the counter as you unpack the groceries, eager to finish up so you can look a little less crazy when the remaining Hargreeves arrive. Diego is still staring at you, grinning fondly at how flustered you look. And although he’d rather not have you meet his brothers and sister, you deserve to know why he’s keeping you from meeting. After all, it’s been a year since you’ve been together, and he’s met your family already.

It’s different though, because although they too have their issues, your family isn’t a dysfunctional pack of emotionally-stunted freaks. He’d much rather protect you from their intrusive antics. The warm feeling fades as he realizes what’s to come. He appreciates your optimism, truly, but he suddenly can’t shake the feeling that they’ll manage to upset you and ultimately screw up what you’ve been preparing for all day.

“A little help please?” You ground him once more, gesturing to the bags beside the both of you and the assortment of trays of food on the counters. Diego grabs onto your sides when you try to brush past him to check on the turkey, ignoring your incredulous look as he presses his body against yours.

“There’s still time to call this all off, you know. We can watch all the cheesy Christmas movies you want, and have dinner all to ourselves.” His eyes are hopefully looking into yours, the persuasion in his tone hinting a part of him isn’t really joking.

“Absolutely not. Di, we’ve been together for a year now. I want to get to know your siblings. Besides, you met my family and they loved you!”

“That’s different y/n, you’re family is...Well, they’re not like mine! You guys are normal! My brother is a moon-obsessed, half monkey moron and my sister is a mind-controlling movie star.” You can’t help but giggle at his words even though his frustration is adamant. He backs away from your embrace and runs his a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself down. The sudden thought of one of them being too pushy or making you upset is overwhelming him now. If it’s one thing he’d like to keep you from, it’s the bad side of him his siblings tend to bring out.

“Diego.” Your voice is soft now, you’re using that love-laced tone that always makes him feel like he’s melting. He shivers as you get closer to him, still somehow getting used to the effect you have on him. And although you don’t notice, you seem to be aware you’re calming him down. “I’m scared too, I don’t want to mess something up or embarrass myself in front of them. Hell, your little-or...Older brother is a time traveling assassin who’s kind of a genius. It’s intimidating definitely, but they’re your family Di. I know you hate to admit it, but they’ve played a huge role in who you are. And even if a lot of times you resent each other, it’s clear you love them.”

He’s gotta admit, you’ve always had a way with words. “Fine, what can I do to help beautiful?”

“you can start with setting the table so I can get ready and actually look beautiful. And use the good China!” You plant a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing off to the bedroom, silently praying the anxious won’t drop a plate or two in the process.

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

“Baby, does red or white wine go with tur-woah.” You’re doing some finishing touches on your makeup when Diego walks in, honey brown eyes shamelessly looking over your figure with a smirk as he now leans against the door frame.

You roll you eyes at his ogling, but can’t help smoothing down the silky olive green fabric of the dress your wearing with a pleased smile. Gold jewelry adorns your neck and ears, with matching gold heels to bring the look together. The red of his sweater (he so stubbornly obliged to wearing) compliments the green you're wearing beautifully. A year ago, Diego wonders just how much it would take him to put on anything other than black.

“Cmon, they’ll be here any minute.”

As if I’m cue, the doorbell of the apartment rings. You rush to the front door, Diego trailing behind as he reminds himself how important the evening is to you.

“And remember, no knives.” You whisper to him, turning back around and opening the door.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten!” Klaus pushes through the entryway excitedly, tackling you in a hug in greeting. Luckily, you’ve already met the most eccentric sibling of the bunch. As he often crashes at your place, much to Diego’s disliking (or so he says).

“My my my, that dress is to die for! I’ll be borrowing that soon. And those heels! Please tell me we’re the same siz-”

“Alright bonehead, you can steal her stuff later. Take yourself and the booze to the kitchen.” Diego interrupts, shrugging when you slap his shoulder at his bluntness.

Greeting the rest of the family goes better than expected. Allison and Luther arrived together (an innocent carpool of course) whilst Vanya had come just a few minutes after Klaus, happy to see she wasn’t the first to arrive. She brought along with her a homemade dish, Allison with a top notch bottle of champagne, and Five with a box of Griddy’s  donuts and...Coffee? His odd choice of food making the perfect ice breaker, to his confusion of course. 

“Alright, enough small talk. Diego, how much are you paying this lovely lady to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Klaus interjects your conversation about current events as the rest of the table looks to the pair of you and laughs. 

“Seriously, Allison couldn’t even rumor someone to be this good of a cook,” Luther chimes in. Not having looked up from his plate for a majority of the meal.

Although slightly offended, Diego realizes his siblings have a valid point. You’re blushing crimson as you laugh along, shaking your head and nervously rambling on about when you just last week almost burnt the apartment down trying to perfect said recipes. He’s entranced as you speak, admiring the way you seem to capture all of them with unknown ease. Unknown, truly, because you’re still too modest to see how perfect you are. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’ll spend every day trying to even out the impossible score. It's known he can be quite the competitor. 

“I’m just shocked he’s out of black for once.”

“Says the 45 year old in a school uniform!”

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

“Alright, I’ll clear up dinner so we can start dessert.” Y/n announces, just in time to halt a three-way argument between her boyfriend, Luther and Five about some Academy mission from when they were kids. The evening has been lighthearted for the most part, with a majority of the conflict being steered off by Allison or Vanya. The two practically experts at distracting their egotistical brothers. You catch on as they do so, the three of you having shared a few sly smirks between one another a few times throughout the meal. 

“Please y/n, let me. You’ve done more than enough tonight. Besides, I need someone to test out that wine for me.” Allison assures, kicking Diego’s shin and motioning to the kitchen when you’ve given her an appreciative smile and inquired Vanya on her violin skills. 

Allison’s knife wielding brother shoots her a look of shock at her actions, trailing along confusedly after her. Your empty plate and his own in hand as he sets them down in the sink. 

“What the hell? Why-where-you-hiding-her-from-us!) The curly haired woman emphasizes each word with a smack of a stray dish towel to his arm, sure nobody can hear them over Klaus’ obnoxious storytelling back in the dining room. 

“Quit it! I wasn’t hiding her I-I was protecting her from you shitheads.” Diego defends, once again bewildered by his sister’s playful outburst. 

“Diego! She’s amazing, you should’ve introduced us forever ago.” 

“Right, she’s amazing. What do you not get by the word protecting? If you all had met her any sooner you would have scared her off!” He flails his arms as he speaks, unaware of his flushed cheeks as his sister smiles fondly at him. 

“What now Allison?”

“You loooveee her.” She poke his side as she teases, chuckling again when he swats her arm away. The scene is childish, but something about the heat rising through his neck to the tips of his ears makes Diego feel like a kid again. Allison teasing him about girls, just as they had when they were young. 

“Wh-whatever. Yeah, I love her. Can we go back to the table now, or should we paint our nails and giggle about how totes adorbs Luther Looks in that coat?” They both laugh at his mocking, leaving the room and too giddy to remember the discarded plates left behind. 

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

“An espresso machine? Wow, Columbia-brewed K-cups too! You shouldn’t have y/n.” Five is beaming at the gift in hand, wrapping paper still hanging off the side of the box as he admires the machine. His siblings stare confusedly at his jolly demeanor, and he immediately clears his throat before giving said girl a curt nod. “Thanks.” He deadpans, and you laugh with a nod at his change in demeanor. 

Luther and Allison have already opened their gifts, the burly man pointing to his miniature moon replica and lecturing about the craters and valleys to an extremely bored Klaus. Allison has already put on the elegant gold charm bracelet you’ve given her, rolling charm with Claire’s initials and birthstone on it with glossy eyes. Beside her, Vanya delicately peels the wrapping off to a freshly polished violin case, her name inscribed in cursive on the top. 

“It’s beautiful. I-I’m so sorry we didn’t get you anything. If I had known-”

“Nonsense V, I’m just glad you could all make it tonight.” You reassure with genuine smile, glad to see her positive response to the nickname. 

“I still can’t believe you got them gifts.” Diego mumbles from behind you, having climbed over the back of the couch you’re all sat on to have you sit between his legs. He kisses your temple and wraps his arms around your middle, softly humming when yo lean into him. The fireplace is crackling, and the record payer you love dearly quietly plays a Perry Como Christmas album. You close your eyes, taking in the warm feeling and relaxing in Diego’s touch. The two of you jumping when a shout comes from beside you.

“My turn! My turn!” Klaus claps loudly to grab your attention. You chuckle at his childish ways, leaning down to pick up the wrapped present at your feet and handing it off to him. Unlike the others, he eagerly rips apart the wrapping, gasping dramatically when he lifts up the skirt. 

“You’re a bit hard to shop for, there’s a gift receipt if-” The excitable man scrambles up from the floor tug on the fabric, twirling around in it in a fit of giggles before you can finish your statement. 

“Great, he’ll never take that off.” Diego mumbles in your ear, you shake your head with a smirk at his teasing before you’re reminded of something.

“Oh! And one more thing.” You note suddenly, climbing out of Diego’s hold as he huffs reluctantly. You pull a a final present from under the tree, secretly handing it to Klaus to make sure the others don’t see. Though they’re too enveloped in conversation to noticed.

“Another one for me?” He whispers happily, eyes furrowing when you shake your head. Sitting back down in Diego’s arms before you explain. 

“No, well...Yes, sort of. You’ll see.” You ramble, gesturing to the box in his hands as he apprehensively chuckles. You feel Diego’s eyes on you, deciding to place a peck on his jaw instead of elaborating. 

Klaus pulls out a pair of books, readig the well-known titles before looking up at you. You motion to the box once more, biting your nail as he sets them aside and reaches in once more. He pulls out  picture frame with a sharp intake of breathe, hand going over his mouth as he looks up at you once more. Your boyfriend, eager to see what has silenced his rowdy brother, takes the frame to inspect it. 

It’s a picture of him, Klaus, and Ben on the front steps of the academy. Having to be only five or six in the photo. Klaus has an arm around Ben, smiling big for the camera as his brother offers a smaller, but no less genuine grin to the lens. Diego sits a step above them, mouth frozen open in a laugh as he must of been reaction to something only Klaus could make him react so much at. 

“I remember Di telling me Ben read a lot. And...Well, it felt wrong to get everyone else a gift but him. Those are two of my favorit-”

“Wh-Where did you find this?” Diego whispers, arms encircled even tighter around you as he holds up the frame in shock. 

“When we were moving in. I found it at the bottom of one of the shelves at your room at the gym. It was under a bunch of old books you had, I figured it could use a frame.” Just as you finish, Klaus practically tackles you in a hug, a soft hiccup coming from him when he pulls away. 

“Geez Klaus, it’s just a skirt!” 

“Can-it Luther!”

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

“You think he’ll be alright?” You mutter from the bedroom hallway. You and Diego leaning against the wall, looking at Klaus whose passed out on the sofa. The others having left hours ago, but you simply couldn’t wake him at seeing how peaceful he was. The picture frame still tucked to his chest as he snored softly. 

“Trust me, he’s fine. I think he’ll be sleeping in that skirt every night from now on.” Diego pulls you to your bedroom door as you laugh, the exhaustion from today finally setting. 

“Hey, would you look at that? Mistletoe.” Your head trails upwards to gaze up at the fruit being dangled above your head as you grin.

“Those are grapes Di.”

“Are they? Hmm, must be from that stupid cheese board I had to run across town for.” 

“It’s a chacuterie, actually. Didn’t you learn French Hargreeves?”

“Yep, but I only seem to remember two words.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?”

“Embrasse moi” He finishes as he connects his lips with yours, holding your face as if you might slip away when he lets go. 

“Smooth, knife boy.” You pull away softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Merry Christmas Di.”