#fastest way to my heart is a good soup

[cheridraws]

once again experiencing the insatiable lust for soup

[icycoldninja]

FLUFFCEMBER DAY #4: (Akutagawa x Reader)

Fluff headcannons

-Behaves like a cranky stray cat who wants to be loved but is too prideful to admit it.

-He acts like physical affection doesn't mean anything and that he couldn't care less if you didn't hug him at all, but that's not true at all.

-Is always finding excuses to sit close to you, saying things like "i'm cold", "i am very sore and you provide adequate cushioning", or "i pulled a muscle in my back and need to lie down".

-Most of the time he comes home injured from Port Mafia business and will want to do nothing but sit on the couch, have you feed him soup, and watch cheesy movies.

-Speaking of Akutagawa's movie taste, for whatever reason, he really has a thing for rom-coms.

-Loves it when you massage him, especially if he's having a coughing fit. Having someone rub his shoulders while he's coughing his lungs out is surprisingly comforting.

-You take such good care of him (his standards of "good care" are very low, so don't worry if you're not an experienced helper) and he is so grateful for that.

-They say the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and this seems to be especially true in Akutagawa's case. Make him his favorite foods (or any food he happens to crave) and he will forever be yours.

-Binge watching TV with you is one of his favorite things to do with you, no matter how awful your taste in television is.

-Lets you paint his toenails, but not his fingernails, because the last thing he wants is to be made fun of for having sparkly pink fingernails.

-Refuses to allow you anywhere near other members of the Port Mafia for your safety. He wants to keep his personal and professional lives far, far apart, so no one comes after you.

-Won't stop kissing you before bed--this is probably the only time he's ever openly affectionate, so you'd better cherish it.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

Delirious

No matter how much you had offered your heart and arms to him, you were never his. And he was never yours.

Another oneshot requested by my angsty babies, I am glad you chose Rafayel. Yes, the writer you had wished for is back. Hang on tight to your seats baby gurl, this one gonna be hard to swallow.

Warnings: Angst, no comfort. Make your eyes bleed. Character death. Descriptive Mentions of dark topics so if ur sensitive please refrain.

Artwork is not mine, please support the original artwork!

Ding Dong. Ding Dong. Ding Dong. dINg dOng. DiNg dOnG.

You slammed your door opened and the 183cm drama queen stands in your doorway, head hung low, face drooped towards the floor. If he is not made of solid muscle and bones, you would be watching him melting right into the floor. Sighing, you stood aside and let him in, not even bothering to ask him a single question. You sort of having a gist on what had happened.

"Here, soup for you." He replied solemnly, feet carrying him lazily across the living room and to your kitchen. He brought soup this time, must be something big. Him bringing a souvenir over also means he would probably be staying the night. Not that you guys are in a relationship or anything, but 'complicated' is the right term for the both of you as of this stage.

The chair creaked under his weight as he took a seat on the wooden chair slotted at your dining table. "Rafayel." You grabbed a tissue box and sat down on the opposite end, a good necessity whenever he drops by your house unannounced. His hunched over form under the harsh lighting of your dining room's light unexpectedly painted a blob of shadow on your table. You reached your hand out this time, finger tapped on the wooden table just a few centimeters away from his hand. "Rafayel, are you okay?"

"She broke up with me." His reply was short. No details, no whining, no accusations, but just one sentence. This is an untouched territory for you. Most of the time, he would pressed on the doorbell nonstop until you slam open the door and his lips would not shut off till he was done venting. There were a couple of times he did came in looking like a dreaded fish, but the smell of alcohol would be the perfume of his. Today, however, no alcohol smell and no usual harangues.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Few days passed, till few weeks, then few months after. For such a while, Rafayel had been hanging out more frequently with you, bringing you to the most random places to hang out such as going to a bowling alley just to get their waffles because he claims he likes to watch people roll balls but he also likes the waffles there. A trip to the market only to buy crabs and releasing them into the backyard to watch which one could run the fastest then the winner shall be rewarded as dinner on the dining table.

He had never been weirder than ever, but maybe this is his way of coping and who are you to judge? You had never been in love. But reading through romance books and watching all of the romantic shows, when love comes to your mind, Rafayel comes to your mind. You thought, maybe you do love him?

"Get out." Your words were final. Index finger sliced through the air and pointed straight towards your front door. Your cheeks glistened under the reflecting light casted by the television that was playing a teen romance flick. But no attention was spared for the movie anymore. "Rafayel. GET. OUT."

"What do you mean?" Eyebrows sewn together, eyeing your expression that spelled hurt. He was confused about your sudden burst of anger. "All I did was talk about the movie. And you got mad at me all of a sudden."

"You did not talk about the movie. All you did, was compared me to her, with the context of the movie." Your nostrils flared, tears stinging at the back of your eyes as if you had inhaled poison. Your throat and chest tightening further the more you held your tears in. "You lied to me. You said you got over her." Your arm fell to your sides, voice feeble. "But, why do you always find the need to compare me to her?"

"Oh spare me, I just went through a breakup, I could use the space to let loose, can't I?" His ignorance egged you on, seeing how indifferent he is about this situation. "Furthermore, I could use the---"

"And you think it's okay to play with my feelings?!" You belted, eyes welled up with tears, blurring your vision. You stepped up to him, hands pointed towards his face this time and you seethed in anger. "You, came here everytime, when she broke your heart. And out of everytime, I stayed. I waited." Your voice started cracking. "I was there for you when you had nobody else. And I picked you up when you thought you could not live without her anymore."

"Well, you could have just left if you---" He chipped in and you slapped him across his face with your palm. Although your hands are small, but it packed enough of a force to cause his cheek to ache, an uncomfortable throbbing pain following afterwards. He left his head tilted to the side, taking in the reality of what had happened. He just got slapped by a girl. Never in his life, he thought he would do something so outrageous that he would get slapped across the face. Guess he just broke his streak of not getting slapped by women.

"I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU, CAN'T YOU TELL?!" You withdrew your hands and slid onto the floor, full on sobbing as you hugged onto your body to gain warmth for yourself. All of the blood had rushed up to your head which explains why you could not feel your legs anymore, hence the position on the floor. You desperately hoped Rafayel would grab you right now, and hug you tight within his arms.

You heard hurried shuffles, sound of keys jangling and a soft thud next to you. Those noises not tending to your curiosity at all. "I am sorry." His reply was bland, numb even. A sentence for remorse, also a sentence for a goodbye. The doors closed behind you and you were left alone, a forlorn soul basked within the lights emitted from the romance show. Silent sobs overheard by the moon that was peeking in through the windows of your sky roof.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

"Rafayel!" Thomas burst in the front doors, scurrying towards Rafayel's room at full speed after spotting the empty canvas sitting at the living room. Slamming the door that leads to Rafayel's room, the artist was sprawled out on the bed, his room so cold that Thomas could have just witnessed the North Pole without having to be there. The floor was surrounded in trash, papers crumpled up, pencils of all kinds used for sketching strewn across the floor. One may call it an organised mess, but Thomas calls this artist block.

"How long have you been in this room?!" Thomas shook Rafayel's shoulders to wake him up. "Your room is as cold as the cold storage that you use to store your seafood!" Thomas wasted no time in having to collect the pieces of papers and pencils on the floor, arranging them in his hand. "Why are you not done with---"

His nag came to a halt when Rafayel had sat up straight, back hunched over and eye bags the only colour present on his pale features. "What do you want?" Even his voice sounds hoarse, like a teen boy cycling through the age of puberty. "I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Your calls, as usual, went unanswered for the past few days so I helped myself by going over to ask y/n about your whereabouts because I thought you were staying with her pretty often these days." Placing the items onto the artist's white desk, Thomas turned to study his expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I know that look from somewhere." He squinted his eyes, studying him even further. "You had that same look when you caught your ex cheating on you that night." Thomas was referring to the girl that came before you. The one that had broke Rafayel's fragile heart. "Funny, now that I think of it, y/n's not doing any better than you."

Coming to realisation, the light bulb in Thomas' head flipped the switch. "Did anything happened to the both of you?"

"Did she asked anything about me?" Rafayel answered his question with another question. Eyes finally slanted upwards to face the manager of his. He just wanted to hear something, at least something to give him a reason to find her. He felt guilty, remorseful even for putting his burdens onto her. Leaving her all alone, drowning her in her own agony that day was the worse thing he could ever do to someone who had only ever been kind to him. And it took him three days to figure that out in his fish brain.

"No, she just asked me to hand you this." The older man reached into the pocket of his blazer, fishing a pink note out of his pocket and he handed it to Rafayel. The paper a little wrinkled, but the contents of it are a mark of your handwriting.

//𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒹.// Your cursive writing always a form of art to his eyes. A small, dainty note was all that takes for her to personally pass on the will to him. Rafayel stared at the note for a good minute, the wind coming out of the air-conditioner turning Thomas into a popsicle but filling the silence.

"I have to go." Rafayel uttered, hoisting himself out of the bed in one go and he threw on his dark pistachio green open collared shirt. The one you always quipped about how healthy his skin tone looks in it but with him constantly bantering that the green was a direct insult to his hair and eye colour. Just for this time, he would smother his ego, put on your favourite outfit, and head over to find you.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

The keys he held onto, the same set of extra keys you had entrusted him with, slotted into the keyhole and turning it clockwise, a 'clack' could be heard and he opened the door with the twist of the copper-painted doorknob. The balcony's sliding door remained opened, the sheer white curtains danced to the rhythm of the wind. The lights in your house were dimly lit, providing Rafayel with just enough lighting to navigate himself towards your room.

At this timing, in the middle of the night, he tiptoed through your wooden floors, afraid even the smallest of creaks would give you the spooks. He twisted the doorknob to your door but it jammed halfway. Trying again, with a bit more exerted force this time, the door remained unbudgable. "Y/N...?" He called out for your name, using his knuckle to give a light knock on your door. "It's me Rafayel. Can we talk?"

He was met with a deafening silence. Of course you would not want him to be anywhere near you, be it to hear him apologise for his stupidity or for him to comfort you within his arms. He bet you could care less about him given the last stunt he had pulled on you. He grappled for his phone, pulling out of his pant's back pocket and he turned on the screen, the light on his phone screen puts the dim lightings to shame.

He scrolled through his phone book till he stopped at your name, a heart symbol edited in next to your name. It was not just a stunt for him to catch your attention, the heart emoji has always been there, but after you had taken him in and allowed him to stay with you for a couple of weeks, the heart started making more sense to him, but poor Rafayel couldn’t distinguish what is love and what is bare attraction. If he could get to talk to you this time, then maybe the heart would mean the world to him. Maybe, maybe this time, he will not mess his speech up and break your heart again.

The phone was set to dial mode and he pressed onto the green call button, ready to receive shoutings from the other side of the room. Your ringtone rang, the stupid song for the Toothless Meme played on rewind. Did you slept a bit too well maybe? He called again, and the same scenario happened.

His heart was hit with a sudden pang of fear. You had always been a light sleeper and noticing the obnoxiously loud ringtone not even waking you up for the slightest bit, he decided to take a step back and bust down the door with his shoulder. Luckily, just with one hard nudge of his broad shoulders, the door dislodged itself.

So does his heart. Your whole room was thrashed, filled with the pink notes that you had given to Thomas earlier. Some were torn, some were sheathed, some had scribbles all over it, all of the notes littered with handwritten notes beyond his comprehension. Rafayel watched you, held up vertically, legs far from touching the ground, a noose was the only thing connecting you towards the ceiling. "Y/N!" He ran up to you and grabbed you, his lanky legs kicking all of the notes out of his way. "Y/N!"

A short burst of flames from his fingers burnt the noose and you fell to the floor. Your face a shade match to the moon that was sitting outside. Rafayel's hands fumbled with his phone, calling the emergency hotline as soon as he could. Strings of curses coming out of his mouth afterwards when he asked for help to be deployed to your location as soon as possible.

While awaiting for the ambulance, Rafayel did CPR, or at least what he could remember from the lesson he had taken years ago. Pumping steadily to a rhythm, blowing air through your mouth to hopefully deliver air to your lungs. The sirens of the ambulances huddled outside of your condominium, the blue and red lights adding on a speck of neon to the monotonous night.

"Stay with me please. Please stay with me y/n." Rafayel held you in his arms, your ice cold skin prickled against his warmth. His tears fell down his cheeks and continued its trail down your already tear-stricken face. He never thought his ruse would cause you this much damage. He thought that you could be the end to his delirium, and the start to his new reality.

The paramedics that arrived on the scene stood aimlessly at the door frame, watching the broken man in front of them, amidst the thrashed room, holding onto a lifeless body of a woman who seemingly cried herself to death.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Angsty af, this piece is part and partial of my experience as I had once struggled with my mental health before, and it was also due to a shitty ex. But I am doing much better now, and writing this brings back those shitty feels that I used to have, but also reminded me of how much more happier and stronger I am now, and that I am not choosing death because of my ex! :)

But if any of you, do have issues with mental health, please do seek for reliable help. As cliche as it sounds, life is not at all bad if you have people that are supportive of your recovery journey. If you needed someone to rant to, my dms are always open <3.

I do not wish harm for any of my readers, and I want you guys to know that just as much as ur supporting my works, I want to be there to support you if you have any hardships in life as well. Just know that you are loved, and I love you <3.

Sincerely, Brails.

[awkward-fink]

In times of sickness - Kyle Gaz Garrick

“Love, I really don’t think that this is the way to cure your flu.” You chuckle softly as you watch your boyfriend stand beside the outside tub he had filled with ice and water. Gaz, your insensible boyfriend, is standing in only a pair of swim trunks right beside the tub. It would look deliciously good and surely would make your heart pump so much faster, if his skin wasn’t flushed and clammy and his nose wasn’t  as red as his favorite Christmas decoration. “Honeybun, I saw this on TikTok, it surely will work.” “You are really sure about this? Because in all of my time living alone and getting sick, getting into ice cold water and then after straight into bed was never even ONCE on my list.” “Honeybun, you always used your grandmothers’ remedies, you didn’t even have normal medication in the house and only those herbal things.” Kyle looks at you with a raised eyebrow, a shiver running over his body. “Love, Kyle, please think about this agai-!” You can’t even end your sentence before your boyfriend shakes his head and with a quick jump, jumps right into the small tub filled with ice and water. “Kyle!” You can’t help the chuckle as you watch him yelp and miss his footing in the tub, landing ass over teakettle and feet up head down in the ice water. His feet wiggle softly, his body squirming and with a loud rush of water, the tub is knocked over, your boyfriend crashing onto the grass with wide eyes. You blink at him, he blinks back, the ice-cold water sloshes lazily by him, making him not only cold and flushed, but also muddy.

“….” “….”

“Kyle, I would be yelling your second name if you had one, Garrick! You swing that juicy cold ass right under the shower! And then I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day outside of the bed! Pronto!” You hadn’t seen your boyfriend running like this in weeks, even if he was slightly slip-sliding on the patio.

You sigh, looking at the slowly draining water, shake your head and follow him inside. Someone must mop up those muddy footprints…

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

Kyle thinks that old remedies aren’t the best, social media surely knows the fastest way to heal sickness, right? And if not the social media, then surely heavy medication will do the trick just fine

It goes horrible wrong on 75% of the occasions.

You are always by his side, with snarky comments and a thick blanket.

He will try at least three different ways to quicken his cure, until he finally rests

Loves your chicken soup, would bath in it if it was possible

Your Nana once stuffed him to the brim with herbal essences and now he is scared to be alone with your Nana every time his nose is barely congested

Is actually quite enamored that you stay by his side the whole time and when you care for him, cuddle him and hold him close while he is sick

If you can’t be there for him in person, he indulges in so many video calls to you, wants to see and hear you, fall asleep with you on the phone

[thehollowwriter]

Actually: for Cosme!

What's the fastest way to piss them off? To calm them down? To cheer them up?

How do they deal with entitled attitudes or otherwise disrespectful students?

Are there any students they've come to see as their own kid?

How do they feel about the one magicless student on campus?

Do they enjoy being a part of student gossip/actively involved in student drama?

Yaaay Cosme questions!

What's the fastest way to piss them off? To calm them down? To cheer them up?

Messing with his students, lmao. Or just treating them badly in general. Especially when it's another staff member because, like, that's the opposite of your job. Blatantly disregarding his authority is another one. He cares for his students, but he will get you for that/hj

Funnily enough, a good way to calm him down is to just tell him to breathe. Cosme swears he's so chill, but when he gets mad, it's like he's on the verge of hyperventilating fjfjgjg. Some other ways are reminding him that he's at work or that he's setting a bad example for his students.

Cheering him up can be a little harder since when he feels down, it's really bad. But honestly just making him coffee or something and sitting with him, even if nobody says anything, really makes him feel better.

How do they deal with entitled attitudes or otherwise disrespectful students?

UM, babyyyy. He'll paralyse them for a little while. Dw it doesn't hurt, and he doesn't do it for long, but any student who's been dealt this punishment will tell you even a few minutes like that is agonising.

Luckily, since he's head of discipline, few students have the guts (or stupidity) to act like that towards him. The title alone already let's you know that hey, this guy can probably fuck up my time here (or end it) if he wants so let's not. Let that happen.

Are there any students they've come to see as their own kid?

Ngl probably Yuu cause he's like the only member of staff who seems to give a fuck about them 😭 he made the soup Crowley drops off at Yuu's and nearly lost his mind when he learned Crowley put them in Ramshackle.

However, I've been considering... Riddle. Even though he finds Riddle extremely irritating (please... the Queen of hearts rules are not that serious... and he doesn't have time to deal with every little problem, Rosehearts) I think he'll come around to him after a while and probably realise Riddle's lacking in good parental figures and ends up unintentionally filling that role.

Back off, Mrs. Rosehearts, the jellyfish has adopted your kid/j

How do they feel about the one magicless student on campus?

Very worried about them cfifjgkgjg. This school is not a place for someone like them to be (in the sense that it can be dangerous for them even without overblots), and there's like... a lot of things they have to do to keep their home that he finds ridiculous. However he does admire their resilience and can see their potential even without magic.

Edit: omg I just realised I forgot the last one 😭

Do they enjoy being a part of student gossip/actively involved in student drama?

No, not really. It's not any of his business unless it's breaking school rules or putting them in danger.

...Is what he would say most of the time but during Astrology classes? The tea is PIPING. He he'll give advice and say a quip or two, but won't like get involved. Please, god, don't involve him 😭

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

[iicheeze]

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES

3 Months, 3 Days, and 33 Minutes Masterlist

SUMMARY II you've always had feelings for your gray haired senior. To the point that you'd confess to the man in front of the whole Akademiya. Pitying you, he gives you 3 months, 3 days and 33 minutes to make him fall for you. Let the roller coaster of chaos begin!

PAIRINGS || Alhaitham x Gender Neutral Reader, slight Kaveh x reader

TAGLIST || @star-star-fall-inlove @nachotrash @baelloraa @tanspostsblog @kalpie @makimakimi @nishayuro @zomzomb1e @sassy-cat-in-town @aloveablechaos @ceylestia @severedvigility @goubaia @6-022-10-23 @duhsies @suwnshine @xiaos-wife1 @kysrion @kunikuzushisbeloved @mariposa666haruka @sunsinrinn @milkm4nz @klementime @beesgobuzzbuzz @perhapseven7eggs @fluffyxcloudz @orionicchaos @1-800asimpforfugo

BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU, IF THERE'S A CHANGE IN UR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME!!

TW || idiot tries to cook for the first time in their life, skin burns, ugly pie, cussing, Yeo's unfunny jokes.

CHAPTER III — how to cook for dummies

“ I heard the fastest way to someone's heart is by cooking them a good meal! ” Xiangling suggested.

“ Or just by surgery. ” Shenhe replied back.

“ I DON'T WANT THAT GUY'S HEART WHAT THE FUCK, SHENHE. ”

“ Well, Xiangling does have a good idea.. ” [Name] mumbled to themselves, “ But... I have something to confess to you guys.. ” The two girls bopped their head in confusion.

“ I have never once touched a pan in my life. ”

...

“ Well.. It's okay! I can teach you how to cook! ” “ You're doomed, [Name]. ” “ Please shut up, Shenhe. I know damn well I'm doomed. ”

“ Plus, it's fine, Xiangling! You're busy with your own restaurant AND studies. I can teach myself how to cook. TeyvatTube exists for a reason! ” [Name] sweat dropped, not trying to bother Xiangling.

“ Awwh, alright then. Best of luck to you!! Oh, and, if you want to cook some exotic new recipes, come to me! I'm sure Alhaitham would love them! ” “ Yeah, uhh, I'll pass on that- Thanks for the offer! ”

The blue haired girl then left the almost-empty lecture hall, leaving you and Shenhe alone.

“ ... ” “ ... ”

“ Don't ask me to cook for you. I'm not that good of a cook myself. ” The [taller/shorter] woman stood up, before following Xiangling out of the lecture hall.

“ SHENHE. YOU LITERALLY MAJOR AT COOKING. ”

Apples, apple cider vinegar, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, all-butter crust, brandy, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, an egg..

And a clueless [Name].

They were searching up on Giigle on cookings for beginners and decided to make Apple Pie.

Looked up the recipe, bought the ingredients, put on an apron, and quietly, the [Hair Color] thought.

This shouldn't be too hard!

Stupid bitch.

Look at them now, the pie that's supposed to look good is as black as your dad's ball sack AND their hand is burnt because they forgot to use a glove when opening to oven.

Along with a confused Kokomi at the door of her side of the dorm room. Wondering why the hell is there screaming and oven dings.

“ KOKOMI HELP UEEHSUEHEHSHEU ” [Name] sniffed, snot and tears seen at their pathetic looking face.

“ OH MY GOD, [NAME]. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?? ” “ I - I WAS JUST TRYING TO- COOK UP AN APPLE PIE FOR ALHAITHAM BUT IT'S SO HA- HARD. ” hiccups and snots were making it hard for the now-pathetic person to speak, making them look even more pathetic.

“ OH MY GOD, [NAME]. CLEAN YOURSELF UP, I'LL CLEAN THE KITCHEN. AND WE'LL TRY AGAIN TOGETHER, OKAY?? ” “ O - OKAY ” Kokomi put both her hands on her roommates shoulders, trying to calm them down.

You can't have shit in Teyvat Akademiya 😒

“ Here! ”

“ ... What is this? ” Alhaitham asked, questioning the lunch box wrapped with a [Favorite Color], polka dot patterned cloth.

“ It's an apple pie! I heard from Kaveh that you don't like soup so.. yeah! ” [Name] scratched their cheek, nervous. “ It took me hours and Kokomi's help with this because I've never once touched the kitchen in my life so you better appreciate every last bite!! ”

Looking at the lunch box, [Name]'s face, the lunch box again, and [Name]'s face again. Before finally noticing the bandages wrapped at the person's hand.

“ Alright then. ” The man finally took the lunch box from the [Hair Color]'s hand. Confused as to why they won't leave.

“ I wanna watch you eat it! I didn't taste test it for myself, so I want to see your reaction. ” [Name] stated.

I'm so dead.

Taking a slice from the pie, the man couldn't help but shiver a bit. Finally taking a bite. It's taste is surprisingly..

Good?

But of course, his surprise wasn't shown through his face.

“ Well? What do you think? Is it good? ” [Name] asked, curious yet nervous at the same time.

“ It's.. Tolerable, to say the least. ” Alhaitham answered, “ SO- It's good?? YES! ” [Name] whisperer the last part.

“ Okay! From now on, I'll cook for you!! And you better appreciate it, okay?! Because I WILL work hard for each and every one of those! ” The [Hair Color] stated gleefully.

“ Oh, shit! I gotta go. My lecture's gonna start soon!! See you, Haitham! And you better finish those! ” [Name] waved the male goodbye before leaving him alone with the lunchbox, along with his thoughts.

...

Taking another bite while opening his book, he thought.

Maybe, they're not so bad after all.

AUTHOR'S NOTE || this was a true story abt me trying to make apple pie except I made it for no one 🧍‍♀️

cuz i dont need no man cheering me up 💪😘🌟

[yanderu-deredere]

Your ocs with a sick darling maybe? I’m sick right now and want them to comfort me please

a/n: why is this literally me every single day? hopefully you feel better soon and here's some helpful (and maybe not so helpful) yanderes to perhaps be of service to you

warning: please don't take this as an instruction guide to how to take care of a sick person

eun-jeong yoo ★ profile

literally acts like this is why he went to medical school, like this is the sole purpose of his degree and nothing else

unfortunately paranoid tho? like he's checking your temp constantly and if that shit isn't getting better, he'll be like actually i think you have a brain parasite or something, puppy, like idk your symptoms really match--

babies you SO much

doesn't let you get up at all, will get everything for you, will bring food to you, makes you all the good comfort food of korea, etc etc

probably the most likely to get you all better the fastest

You sniffled, pulling the blanket farther up so you were warm and covered.

It made Eun-jeong's heart melt, to be honest. You looked so cozy but also so helpless at the same time. It was like staring at a puppy! Especially with your hair all messy and your big sweet eyes so innocent and watery.

He removed one of his leather gloves to press his palm against your forehead. You were definitely still significantly warm and, from the way your nose was running, it didn't seem like you were going to get better any time soon.

"Okay, puppy, can you sit up for me and take some medicine?" He reached over to get the little cup of flu suppressant with his ungloved hand before he tried to pass it over to you.

When you pouted, he felt his melty heart get pierced. Softly, he placed a kiss on your warm temple "Come on, pretty, just this and then you can chase it with your favourite drink. See? I brought it over?"

When you continued to pout, he just chuckled and helped you up. He'd make you feel better, no matter what.

gawain dubhán byrne ★ profile

paranoid fuck pt. 2

except he doesn't have a medical degree so like you sneeze and he immediately thinks it's brain cancer

all of his worries are sooo far from the truth that it's not even funny (but also its so so funny)

also babies you but not to the point of forcing you to stay in bed or not letting you do things you want

like if you wanna sit on the couch and watch movies instead of huddling in bed, he'll let you

but he'll also be there lmao he's attached to your hip

"What do you want to watch, darling?" He grabbed the remote for you so he could flick the expensive flat screen on. "Anything you want, I promise."

You just sniffled, your voice hoarse as you shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around you "We can watch Pride and Prejudice. I know it's your favourite."

"My sweet, I want to watch something you want to watch." Gawain frowned though it was hard to at the sight of you.

You're sitting huddled on the couch, looking like a bulky little potato or maybe a stubby burrito. It was precious and part of him wanted to keep you sick forever.

"Might just fall asleep." You leaned your head against his shoulder and his heart fluttered "Just wanna watch sm'th you wanna watch."

"Okay, darling, that's good too." Gawain pressed one last kiss on the top of your head before pointing the remote at the flat screen to start Netflix

fujio watanabe ★ profile

can barely take care of himself let alone you

then again, he made sure his little brother survived to adulthood, right? he can take care of a sick darling

wrong.

he's definitely there just for muscle. you can't move around so you can ask him to do things for you

you have to be specific tho forreal becos you'll ask him to get you soup and he'll get you all the soup, all the kinds he can find

same goes for medicine, cough drops, etc etc

keeps calling his little brother for advice lol like you can just hear him in the background, panicking

"What do you mean thermometer? Can't I just put my hand on her forehead and know?" Fujio grumbled into the phone, his hand on his own forehead as he stared at you curled up on the couch.

He could hear the static sigh of his brother on the other end of the line "If her fever gets to a certain point, you have to take her to the emergency room."

It was like someone dumped cold water over him. Emergency? It was just a cold wasn't it? Why'd you need to go to the emergency room?

"Okay, okay." It was like someone lit a fire under him. "Just stay on the line."

He rushed around, phone held in between his shoulder and his ear. He hurried to get his keys, a jacket, his wallet-- Before he left to go out the door, Fujio leaned over to you, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I'll be back, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of this."

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

he knows first aid? but that's about it lmao

you know that saying that's like idiots can't get colds? mans has the strongest immune system in the world

part of him is actually kind of fascinated by your cold like what, your nose is blocked? what does that mean? and your body is warm? why is your body so warm? huh?

literally has only two people he can call that he trusts and one of them doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about (fujio) and the other can't be bothered (fujio's brother)

definitely depends on you to tell him what to do

"Here, I made you miso soup. It's the only soup I know how to make." He pulled the coffee table closer to the sofa with his free hand before he placed the bowl of hot soup in front of you.

You muttered a very crackly thank you before reaching over. He stood there, watching your every move like a hawk, his fingers playing with each other in anxiety.

Because of your bad throat, instead of saying anything, you just gave Ryuu an enthusiastic thumbs up. Or, as enthusiastic as you could looking like you were half dead.

His entire body relaxed and he plopped down next to you, making sure his large body didn't jostle you too much. He then wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Don't do that! You could get sick!" You growled at him, voice throaty.

Ryuu just laughed, pressing another kiss against the same exact place "Babe, I don't get sick ever, don't worry."

ayaka yamato ★ profile

would not touch you with a ten foot pole

like sorry, she loves you with all of her heart and all but like what if she gets sick? no way!

does hire the best doctors in the world to take care of you

gets really angry at you for no reason becos why the hell did you get sick, now she can't be around you!

despite the fact that she can't be around you, she definitely hovers close to your room

demands that you stay at her place also lol

"Hi hi, baby, how are you?" Ayaka smiled at nothing in particular, her glamorous nails tapping against the coffee table in front of her, her glitzy phone held against her ear.

All you could do was really groan and, from the sound of rustling sheets, she could tell that you had shifted positions.

She could almost cry. She wanted so badly to be able cuddle you close, to hold you and comfort you, maybe even run her fingers through your hair. But you were sick and there was no way in hell you were going to pass that bug to her.

"Baby, I asked you a question." She said instead, her grip on her phone tightening.

"I'm fine, my love, my throat just hurts a lot." You finally responded after a minute of silence. Probably because you were in so much pain, Ayaka thought bitterly.

She nodded despite the fact that you couldn't see her "Okay, okay, I'll leave you to rest. Text me if I can get anything for you, okay?"

You grumbled out an affirmative and she forced herself to hang up after exchanging 'I love you's. Ayaka didn't sit there doing nothing for long though.

Immediately, she stood up so she could pace before dialing another number. Her face contorted and, if anybody could see the anger that was radiating off of her, they probably would've scampered in the opposite direction.

"What the hell am I paying you for! You're supposed to be making my darling feel better! Goddamnit, go back in there and do something or I'll have my guards fillet you, you useless piece of shit!"

[kermodeiiii]

Forgive Your Heart

Chapter 11: Back to Nevarro

Summary: Going back to Nevarro to repair the Crest, and helping destroy an Imperial station, reveals something you wish you could've left behind. 

A/n: The next chapter gets a bit steamy ;)

All chapters containing NSFW Will be marked with *

Masterlist

“And what does it mean?” Your hand travels down to his bicep and he catches it, making your gaze snap to his visor.

“Beautiful.”

Your face flushed and you cleared your throat pulling away from him “Flattery won't get you far with me.” At your burn station you prepare a wrap for his back, applying the lotion to a roll of gauze. You didn’t hear him stand from his seated position, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned and he was in front of you. 

“It’s true.”

The blush on your face was growing as he stared down at you, you averted your gaze from his visor drifting to his shirtless torso, the scars from previous battles littered his body. It was hard to take your eyes off his bronze skin, you nudged his arm “Turn.” He did and you began loosely wrapping the gaze over his burned back, this was a lot easier at the medcenter with extra help, by yourself you had to reach around him and walk in front of him. You tucked the end of the gauze into its folds and went back around to make sure it was loose enough. “Is it too tight?” His helmet tilted down, and rolled his shoulders forward and back, testing the wraps' security. "You should keep the armor off until we arrive, it'll give the antibiotics time to work." He slipped his shirt back on. 

The ship was still malfunctioning, that mechanic on trask didn’t do a very good job of repairing the Crest, Mando had resorted to getting the kid to crawl into the ducks of the ship to try and rewire it. You could hear him talk the kid through it as you ascended the ladder, trying to explain it as simply as he could. “Now put the blue wire where the red wire was, and the red wire where the blue wire was. No! Keep them apart…”  the smell of smoke came through the air and you saw Mando leaded close to the duct the child was in, smoke coming out of it. “Are you okay?” You leaned over him to look inside, seeing the child all the way at the back, the wires Mando talked about still in his hands.

“Let's get you something to eat hun.” He crawled through the vents, it was the fastest you’ve actually seen him move. You picked him out of the vent and climbed down the ladder, Mando sighed and followed the two of you. Mando pulled up three crates in a circle as you prepared the soup for all of you to eat, the kid kept fighting to get out of your arms until you finally set him down with his little bowl of soup. You handed Mando his bowl and sat on one of the crates, sipping on the broth.

“We won’t make it to Corvus in this shape. We’ll have to pay some friends a visit.”

“Where are we going?”

“Back to Nevarro.”

“What? I thought you said it wasn’t safe.”

“A friend of mine has been working on fixing up Nevarro, Moff Gideon is dead, you will be safe there.”

“If you say so.” You heard the click and hiss of Mandos helmet as he drank the soup, you didn’t look at him choosing to look at the kid who already finished his soup. You passed him your serving, knowing he’d still be hungry after eating his. 

Arriving on Nevarro you descended the ladder with the child, and walked beside Mando as the ramp malfunctioned and only set down halfway. Man that guy really ripped you off. You and Mando hopped off the ramp and were given a warm welcome from Mandos friends, a woman shock trooper and an older gentleman.

“Looks like someone could use some repairs.”

“How’s my credit around here?”

“Something can be arranged right Marshal?” 

She reaches out, stroking the childs head and smiling. “We can work something out.”

“I’ll get my best people on it. Hey fellas, I want this ship to be as good as new!” He turns his attention back to you and the child. “And you! I don't believe we’ve been introduced!” He took the child from your arms as he spoke, you gave your name “I’ve heard of you! One of the best medics this planet had to offer! Greef Karga, please, follow me.” He talked with you and the child as you walked through the town with Mando and the shock trooper trailing. “Has Mando been taking good care of you, huh? Have you been taking’ good care of them?” You chuckle and the child coos. “Yeah? Look, he said Yeah!”

“Your ship’s not looking too good.”

“A run-in with the New Republic.”

“They should leave the Outer Rim alone. If the Empire couldn’t settle it, what makes them think they can? Here we are.” Karga stopped in front of a shabby looking building, something common on Nevarro. Mando steps next to you as the other two in your party walk in.

“I’m surprised this place is still standing.” The shock trooper turns around with a grin on her face.

“Just wait till you see inside.” You step in first then Mando, children were seated in neat rows as a droid taught them in front of a holo-board. They made this into a school? Karga sets the child in an empty seat close to the droid, Karga offered to leave the child there, you openly protest.

“Wherever he goes I go.”

“Please, where we are going is no place for a child. Trust me.” You looked at Mando confused, where were you going? The shock trooper placed her hand on your shoulder.

“He’ll be safe here, you have my word.” You sighed and followed Mando out of the school and to Kargas office, moving to the table with the shock trooper as the men talked to Kargas receptionist, he looked scared of Mando but who wasn’t.

“So you were a medic here?” You turned your head to meet her eyes, nodding your head.

“Yeah, it’s how I met the kid, and Mando. Tried to kill me to get to him.” The trooper laughs patting your shoulder.

“He did the same with me, I’m Cara. Alright, can we talk business?” The men joined you two at the table and a holograph of Nevarro appeared.

“We’re only here for repairs.”

“Which will take a while, which means you'll have time on your hands. And we could really use your help, both of you.” 

“Help how?”

 Cara waved over the hologram at a green area.“This is Nevarro, all of this is a safe area, but on the other side there’s a problem” it zooms into a photo of an old Imperial base. “It’s been there since the Imperial expansion, and once it’s gone the planet will be free.” Karga spoke up.

“There’s a lot of weaponry on that base the black market would love to get their hands on.”

“What are we looking at?” Mando leans against the table getting a better look at the holo-map.

“The whole base is powered by a reactor.”

“We sneak in, overload the reactor, and get the hell out.”

You hopped out of the speeder and tried to type on the control panel next to the front door. “It’s no use, the panel is melted. Imperial trash.” Karga and his assistant argued as he yelled at him to open the door, this guy was getting tiring “How long is this going to take?”

“Look lady, this is graded for light plumbing and such, you’re lucky I even brought it.” You were about to sock this whiny bastard in the jaw, but you were distracted by Mando jetting up into the sky. You stepped out to look where he landed, there was an open balcony, and you could hear him take down the troopers there. You heard the stormtrooper falling before you could see it, side stepping just before you could get hit by his body. Three pairs of eyes landed on you, then the body next to you, the door opened and you quickly stepped inside, the rest followed you.

As your group walked through the base, you noticed more stormtroopers than you had anticipated, having to hide behind the pillars in the hallways, you kept the blaster Mando lended you in your hand just in case. When you made it to the reactor you watched outside of the room for any stray troopers with Mando, what was taking so long? Finally the alarm went off, signaling the reactor overloading. 

You ran with the group, there were only ten minutes to make it out before the reactor exploded, but you stopped in your tracks staring at the tanks on the wall. “I thought you said this was a forward operating base?” You didn’t speak while they bickered back and forth, you kept your gaze on the tanks. Cara’s voice was what called you to move

“No, this isn’t a military operation. This is a lab. We need to get into the system and figure out what’s going on.”

The assistant was about to walk to the station but you beat him to it, shoving your blaster in its holster and rapidly typing on the control panel, pulling up a pre recorded message as well as the lab subjects. You read through the log of the lab subjects names and home planets, your face went pale, and you looked up to the hologram only processing the last part of the message. “I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon.”

“This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead.”

“No.” Their eyes landed on you “This recording is three days old.”

“If Moff Gideon's alive then…” Mando was interrupted by stormtroopers shooting and yelling, you followed as the group sprinted down the hallway. “We need to get the kid.”

“Jet back, you'll be faster that way.” You followed Mando back to the reactor, he put his arm around your waist and under the bend in your knee and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he jetted upward, in any other situation you’d be blushing at this proximity. When he stopped at the top of the hole you jumped out of his arms shooting two stray troopers, he enclosed you in his hold once more as he took off to the town.

Mando dropped you off at the school and ran to the ship, you barged in apologizing for interrupting the lesson. You picked up the kid and ran out the door, where did he get another snack? The Crest was repaired and ready for take off when you got there, you climbed up the ramp, Mando took off as soon as it closed behind you. You strapped the kid into the co-pilot's seat with you, Mando shot out, speeding to defend his friends from the Ty-Fighters following them. He shot the one closest to the speeder then pulled up the controls, chasing the fighter that was climbing into the sky, the child in your lab threw his hands up, at least someone was having fun. When the fighter was shot down he cut the engines and turned midair, turning them back on at full speed hunting down the last one, you felt your stomach drop. Once the last Ty-Fighter was shot down Mando turned his head.

“Not too bad huh?” You didn’t get to respond, instead you god blue spit up on you “Oh boy.” you sighed and wiped his robes off with your sleeve. Karga came over the comms.

“That was some pretty impressive flying, Mando. What do I owe you?”

“With repairs lets call it even.”

“Can I at least buy you a drink?”

“Sorry we have some on board maintenance to take care of.”

“Good luck flying, my friend.”

Mando took the child from you and set him on the other co-pilot's chair. Your head was ducked, looking at your hands as they anxiously picked at the skin on your fingers, you mind kept thinking back to the lab and back to the names you saw as the test subjects. Moff Gideon was still alive, the child wasn’t safe, you weren’t safe. “You’re shaking.” Your head snapped up to see Mando had spun around in the pilot's seat, he leaned closer, setting his forearms on his thighs as he spoke. “What’s wrong?” You didn’t answer, afraid you’d start sobbing if you told him what was going through your head. His ungloved hand came to rest over yours, causing you to stop your nervous picking, when did he remove his gloves? His other hand came under your chin, lifting your tear filled eyes to meet his visor, he wiped your cheek with his thumb when one fell. “Talk to me.” More tears flowed down your cheeks, you couldn’t keep your voice strong and clear, instead it wavered with every word.

“The subjects in the lab… they were from my home, they were my people.” Your breath caught in a sob and you hung your head again as you continued “I recognized the names, they were taken years ago Mando, years!” You squeezed his hand “A-and I did nothing! I-I should’ve h-helped them!” He lifts your head again to look at him, hot tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

He said your name “Breathe.” Your choked sobs slowly died into uneven breathing but your tears still fell onto the metal floor of the cockpit. His thumb rubbed circles on the top of your hand as you tried to steady yourself. “Tell me.” Your shoulders slouched as you exhaled.

“The empire.. Tried to invade my planet, but they could never make it past our defenses, and so they compromised.”

“Compromised?” You nodded

“They couldn’t get in, but they made sure we couldn’t get out in return. They would send troopers to stalk and wait, taking our people in the night.” Your hand balled into a fist as you continued “I was angry, I wanted to make them pay, but I was selfish, reckless in my tactics.”

“What do you mean?”

“I led my people into a battle they couldn’t win, they were lost to me, it was my fault more of them got taken and injured. That’s why I left my home, and came to Nevarro.” You averted your gaze. “I know it was a selfish decision, but now I know what happened to them, they deserve to know now. I need to go back.”

“Will you stay there?”

You looked back to him, and the child cooed Leave? “I’d never leave you to deal with the little womp rat by yourself.” you stood and picked up the kid “And I’d never leave you, little guy. I just need to tell them what happened.” Mando stood next to you “Will you take me home? Please Mando.” He moved slowly, putting his hand at the nape of your neck urging you forward, pressing his metal forehead to yours. Your face reddened but you didn’t move. 

“Din.”

“What?”

“My name is Din.”

[achliegh]

Mistletoe Madness: Day 1

Santa's Kinda Hot…

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

James was chasing everyone around the locker room wearing a headband with mistletoe dangling off a stick right in front of his forehead. He has already snatched a couple cheek kisses from Sirius and Dumo, he was currently working on Logan. He was collecting all the French-Canadians’ first for some reason.

Leo was watching, finding it absolutely hilarious when Logan gave James an extra sloppy smooch on the cheek when an arm is slapped around his shoulders.

“Hey Leo, I have a job for you.” Remus smiles at him and Leo knows exactly what he is going to ask.

“Nope, I won’t do it.”

“Everyone on the team has, except you.” Remus sings at him, reaching up and pinching his cheek moving his hand back and forth so Leo’s head shakes. Slapping his hand away and rubbing his cheek Leo reluctantly agrees but only if Remus promises not to take pictures.

The next week he found himself being giggled at by his boys, Remus and a bunch of kids' mothers as he pretended to be Santa for the baby team Remus still coaches even if he plays now. Kids hopped up in his lap and would always comment on how he didn’t have a beard but when Remus’ had him try it on a few days ago it gave him a terrible rash, so they decided to just say:

“I’m a Santa in training, I’m actually the big man's son and am practicing to take over for him.” All the kids seemed to accept this. Going about telling him their mile long lists of things they want all while he himself was thinking about what to make for a meal later.

He was thinking chicken and rice soup sounded amazing.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Leo asks a relatively large boy who sat on his knee after the fastest talking child he has ever heard ran back to his mom.

“I don’t know… What do you want for Christmas, Santa’s son?” Leo looked at him for a moment, he wasn’t really asking for anything this year. As he got older he realized making gift lists for holidays or even his birthday was getting harder and harder. He didn’t really want material things. His gaze wanders from the young kid on his knee to the two goofballs putting ripped pieces of paper in Remus’ hair hoping he doesn’t notice. He smiled a little at them, his heart thumped a little harder and he could feel his cheeks warming just a bit.

“I have everything I could ever want.” Looking back at the child who was fiddling with his thumb. “A new blender would be nice though.” The child's mom snorts in front of them and both he and the kid smile at each other.

“I think I want to be able to visit my grandma, I haven’t seen her in a long time and she lives very really far away. I miss her.” Leo ruffles the kids floppy blonde hair.

“That's a good gift, but a hard one to deliver.”

“A new remote control car would be nice too.” They laugh together as the kid hops off his lap and goes back with his mom. He was expecting another kid to sit on his sweaty knee but instead he got a Logan on one and a Finn on the other.

“That was the last sticky-fingered gremlin! Ready to go?” Finn kisses his cheek putting his arm around his shoulder.

“You know, this Santa costume makes you look very handsome.” Logan is fixing Leo’s fluffy white collar and cupping his neck once he is happy with the adjustment.

“I agree, Santa is kinda hot. In a weird mystical way. Also in Rise of The Guardians he was sexy as hell.” Finn stands up and snatches Leo’s hat, putting it on his head. “I think you look way better.” He winks before walking over to Remus to ask what they have to do next.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen Rise of the Guardians.”

“Me either, let's get you out of this costume and go home to make some soup or something.” Logan stands up helping Leo up and slapping his ass when he walks past towards the other two delinquents. Winking when Leo turns around to playfully glare at him.

He’d get him back.

[oreomonsterhunter]

Sick Day

Pairing: Jackson x reader

Word count: 2270

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Jackson stays home sick (and not very willingly lol)

[ 6:00 am ]

Soft gray light seeps around the curtains as you ease into wakefulness.  You stretch your arms over your head, finally registering the chime of your alarm.  But when you roll over to turn it off, you stop, a mere inch between your nose and Jackson’s back.

You frown at him, not that he can tell, since he’s not supposed to be there.  He should be at the gym, or practice, or wherever the hell he needs to be after his ungodly alarm goes off every morning.  Baffled, you poke his shoulder.  “Jackson?”  He groans, and your frown deepens.  You sit up, leaning over him, “Are you alright?  Is your schedule cancelled?”  You squeeze his arm gently to elicit a response.

Jackson cracks his eyes open to look at you, blinking rapidly.  Then suddenly his eyes are comically wide and he’s not sliding but falling out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.  “Shit, I’m late,” he says hoarsely.

You sit there, still a bit shocked and not a little groggy, and try to make sense of things.  Then you get your act together and go to turn on the coffee machine.  When you pop your head in the bathroom, you find Jackson squinting at his phone, toothbrush hanging out the side of his mouth.  You hip-check him out of the way as you grab your own brush.  “Stop getting distracted if you’re running late,” you mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Jackson starts to respond automatically, and you choke on a laugh as toothpaste dribbles down his chin.  This, of all things, seems to cause a Jackson malfunction.  He stops there, blinking at his minty goatee in the mirror.  With a sigh, you spit and go to help him, taking the toothbrush away before he drops it.  You cup his cheek while you wipe off the mess with a damp washcloth, but then you frown, placing the back of your hand on his forehead.  “Holy—Jackson, you’re burning up,” you exclaim.  You take his face between your hands and stare him down.  “Talk to me.  What’s going on, how do you feel?”

He just blinks for a moment, before shaking his head.  “I just had a headache is all.  Snoozed the alarm.  I’m totally fine, I just need to get to the studio for practice.”

“Jackson, how do you feel?” you repeat, holding him still.  You sneak a glance at his phone, still unlocked to show you his recent search for natural headache remedies.

He looks sheepish now, “Well, my head hurts.”

You raise one eyebrow at him.  “You don’t say.  What else?”

He groans, dropping his face in his hands.  “I’m fine, I promise.  Just a headache.”

“If that’s all it is, take some pain meds and get out,” you challenge him, folding your arms in what you hope is an intimidating stance.  You know bullshit when you hear it.

Somehow the pose works.  That, or Jackson vividly remembers how you chewed him out for lying and threatened to roast him alive if he ever tried it again.  “My throat hurts a bit, and I’m definitely a bit congested.  All I need is some tea and a mask and I’ll be fine,” he starts, but stops just as quickly when your glare intensifies.

You rummage around in the closet and find a thermometer, which confirms your suspicions: a fever.  “Back in bed after you finish brushing, or I’m withholding any and all sexy activities for a month,” you threaten him into compliance.  And you would absolutely uphold that threat, because you know Jackson.  He’s always hounding you to stay healthy, but is a definite member of the “do as I say, not as I do” camp of idiots.  If you don’t lay down the law now, he’ll continue working himself to death, and then he’ll really be in trouble.  Plus he’ll end up getting the other boys sick, and Jackson is enough of a handful on his own without six other boys moaning and groaning.

In the kitchen, you gulp coffee while boiling some water for tea.  Your fingers fly, tapping out a message to Jaebeom, knowing he’ll pass along the message.

Jackson’s an idiot and he’s sick, if anyone asks him to come to practice I’ll end them.

Then to Jinyoung:

Can you check on Jackson this afternoon?  I have to go to work, but would love it if you could make sure he’s still breathing (and hasn’t tried to leave the apartment).  I made kimchi jjigae last night, so there’s leftovers if you want some ❤️

Your phone pings with two positive responses right away, and you nod to yourself.  Then you pour a good spoonful of honey in the mug, grab cold medicine, and bring both to Jackson.  “Drink this, take this, and go to sleep,” you say, shoving the mug in his hands.  “There’s clementines on the counter, plus leftover soup in the fridge.  Call me if you need me, especially if you start to feel any worse.  Jinyoung will stop by around lunch, and I’ll be back from work in time for dinner.  Text me your dumb loopy fever thoughts, okay?”  You finally take a breath after spouting off instructions.  You’re worried, but now you’re running late.  And if he takes a turn for the worse, you can call out of work for the rest of the day.

Jackson just smiles up at you, and you roll your eyes.  You can’t help but smile at your precious idiot—he’s already fever loopy.  “I love you,” he says.

“I love you more.”  You press your lips to the top of his head, then dash to the closet to change into your work clothes.

Even though it’s possibly the fastest strip show in history, Jackson wolf whistles between sips of tea.  You chuckle, jiggling yourself into a pair of pants, and he grins shamelessly.

“Ok, I’m off,” you mutter, collecting various odds and ends and cursing to yourself because you’ve definitely forgotten something.

Jackson calls your name as you start to close the bedroom door, and you turn back.  His smile softens, and you swear there are hearts in his eyes.  “I love you most.”

This time, you really do laugh, and you blow him a kiss goodbye.  He’s an idiot, but he’s your idiot.

[ 11:39 am ]

You knew he was going to text you incessantly throughout the day, despite any good intentions, if only because Jackson was not well equipped to be stuck inside an empty apartment all day.  Especially when he wasn’t feeling well.  At least the texts waited until around ten, when you assume he woke up again.  You’d kept an eye out for any bad updates, but hadn’t seen anything to worry you.

After back-to-back meetings, you finally sign off and take a minute to scroll through the memes, YouTube videos, and more.  Fortunately, your phone was on silent, because he’d sent you half the internet.  The spam tells you he feels okay, all things considered.

I miss you already.  I’ve gone through all of your Spotify playlists and now I’m bored

I would spam you with bad jokes, but those don’t work over text

Why don’t we have a dog?  Can you bring me a dog on your way home from work?

Why won’t the guys text me back...did you THREATEN THEM? BABEEEEE

Babe

BABE

BABY COME BACK

YOU CAN BLAME IT ALL ON MEEEEE

...princess please answer me I’m dying and I have no one

You can’t stop the smile, knowing he’s doing his best to keep you from worrying, but also that he’s probably stir crazy.  You quickly tap out a response:

I’m glad you’re feeling better, or at least pretending.  Tell me if you feel worse.  Are you drinking water?

He sends you a selfie of him guzzling the glass you left for him.  And finally stops texting, which makes you chuckle.  A glance at the clock tells you a special visitor should be arriving soon, so you turn back to your computer to get some more work done.

Within fifteen minutes, your phone buzzes again.  Jinyoung’s update is quick and to the point: a photo of an exhausted Jackson nearly falling asleep in his soup.  That’s enough to send you over the edge, and you laugh out loud, regardless of the thin office walls.

[ 5:49 pm ]

You lock the door behind and toe off your shoes, then pad into the kitchen.  You’d stopped by the store on your way home, picking up cold medication and a few ingredients for dinner.  Jackson gives you the scare of your life, when you round the corner and find him slumped over the counter.

“Jackson!” you gasp, nearly dropping the shopping bags.

He mumbles incoherently, lifting his head and blinking blearily at you.  “Hi princess,” he says with a weak smile.

Now you do drop the bags and round the counter to reach him.  You press the back of your hand to his forehead.  “Still burning up,” you mutter.  “Jackson, why didn’t you call me?  And Jinyoung didn’t say you were this miserable.”

He shakes his head at you, hair falling limp over his forehead.  “I’m just tired.  Apparently I took a nap after he left,” he says sheepishly.  Your frown deepens.  “It’s just a cold,” he tries to reassure you.

Rolling your eyes at him, you go back to the grocery bags and retrieve the cold medication.  “I’ll make dinner and you can go right back to bed, okay?  Drink some more water.”

Jackson obeys your gruff instructions, sitting and sipping water while you throw ingredients together for a quick stew.  He tries to offer to do the dishes, but you shoo him off for a hot shower.  But he doesn’t reach your limit of irritating until he tries to convince you to sleep in the bed while he takes the couch.

“Should I move out?  That’s the only way I can be sure I won’t get sick,” you tell him, hands on your hips as you stare him down.  Jackson reluctantly puts his pillow back on the bed, prompting you to grab your own, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Now Jackson is the one rolling his eyes.  You huff out a laugh and watch his lips twitch, trying to hold back his smile.  “I just worry about you,” he says softly.

You can’t stay mad at that face.  Dropping the pillow, you sit on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside you.  When Jackson plops down, you bump your shoulder into his.  “I wish you would worry about yourself more.”

He knows what you’re getting at.  This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation—in the beginning, they were pretty fierce arguments.  The two of you are both stubborn, leading to stalemates more often than not.  Convincing Jackson to put his health before his work was one of those standoffs.

Jackson doesn’t say anything, but he bumps your shoulder back, so you know the message was received.  You smile at him, then poke his side playfully.  “I already told Jaebeom you’d be taking tomorrow off.”

He groans, falling back on the bed and throwing an arm across his face.  “I can’t afford to miss practice.  Comeback is only a few weeks away and—”

“And nothing.  You stay home until the fever is gone for twenty-four hours.  Or I’m taking you to the doctor, and they’ll tell you worse.”

He simply groans like the drama king he is, and you laugh while you take a blanket and pillow to the couch.

[ 7:24 am ]

You’re dragged into wakefulness by a crick in your neck, a sore throat, and a stuffy nose.  You groan, dragging one hand down your face in defeat.  Jackson wasn’t going to let this one go...you were in for an earful.  Rolling off the couch, you sniffle your way through your morning routine.  By the time you’ve called out of work, taken some cold medication, and sat down with your coffee, Jackson is also awake.

He does a double-take when he sees you, “Wait, shouldn’t you be at work by now?”

You grumble, sure he’s figured it out but wants to drive the point home.  “I’m sick.”

“I guess you should’ve moved out then,” he jokes, but his expression has never been more serious.  It feels like deja-vu, only Jackson is the one checking your temperature and muttering about tea.

“It’s fine, I’ve self medicated like a grown-up,” you say with a smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace.  “And I have coffee, go get yourself some tea.”

Ten minutes later, you’re staring down at a horrible green concoction.  “Jackson, I’m sorry, but what fresh hell is this?”

“Fruit, vegetables, and whatever else I could find in the fridge.  I didn’t put chicken in there, don’t worry.  I know how you feel about my shakes.”

You eye him up and down.  He doesn’t look much better than yesterday.  “You drink it.  You need to get your strength back for practice.”  Jackson pouts at you, and that’s when you figure it out.  “It’s not your fault I’m sick,” you tell him.

He scoffs, “Yes it is.”

You resist the urge to throw something at him.  Lovingly, of course.  “We’ll just have to agree to disagree then.”

“Fine.  But you’re drinking this,” he fires back.

You wince, peering into the cup again.  You’re not sure you can trust his ingredient list.  “Split it?” you ask, wearing your most angelic smile.

Jackson squirms away from you in fake disgust, “I can’t, there’s cooties!”  Then he ducks to avoid the pillow you hurl at him.

* * * * *

Masterlist

[peach-the-owl]

I am sorry but after this I need more Essek and child stuff. You can't just leave me hanging there. Give me home life with Essek and his now child. Vacation time! Fun time! I need everything please! The child reader getting like there first crush or something later on and he is like "That adorable, no." I just need some more please. Anything. I will love it.

The fic was great. I loved it. Please give me more serotonin.

Ask and ye shall receive! I know this took a long time to get around to finishing, but I rewrote the plot like 3 times or so until I got to this end result. With that I thank you for the patience and I hope it was worth the wait 😁

Worth

Essek & Child!Sorcerer!Reader

Getting to live with Essek was a quick and easy adjustment seeing as you already spent quite a lot of time in eachothers company. The only big change being to have to meet his mother and gain her approval, it was honestly very nerve wracking to meet the woman so you presented yourself to the best of your abilities. Essek himself was very nervous on the outcome but being on your best behaviour and displaying some of what you were capable of doing seemed to put you in their good graces and you were welcomed into Den Thelyss, much to Essek’s relief. The days went on as usual but you soon noticed the stress Essek was putting himself in from all the hard work he does day in and day out.

"You need a break." You blurt out unexpectedly one morning.

"Pardon?" He looks at you questioningly.

"You work so hard all the time, I think you need to take a break and we have a fun day just for ourselves." You say with a smile.

"You almost sound like my brother." He sighs, scratching at the back of his neck.

"Well he's right." Essek just gives you a playful side look, you just cross your arms. "Oh, please? You deserve it and we'd get to spend more time together without your job getting in the way. Come on, pretty please?" You quickly uncross your arms and look at him with big pleading eyes that you know by now he has a hard time saying no to. After a minute he lets out a quiet sigh.

"As much as I’d love say yes, you and I both know my position wouldn’t allow it." You pout a little but give a small nod, he was right but that didn’t mean you had to like it. The days went on and more work started piling up for Essek were it would now cut into any personal time or any teachings he’d normally have with you, Essek would also leave for long periods of time without telling you where or why. You grew worried, after everything you went through in hopes of spending more time with him it was like none of that mattered anymore, making you feel like you didn’t matter anymore.

You started to try and take your mind off of things by studying in the library but let’s face it, you can only read books for so long before you start to feel restless and need to do something else for entertainment. This leads to you focusing more on practicing with your own magic, if there was one thing that you thought could help prove you're still worth Essek’s time it was magic. Of course this didn’t suddenly stop the work load the poor man had but it kept you occupied at least. However you were starting to develop a nasty habit of overexerting yourself, you having figured since Essek worked so hard all the time you could do double as much seeing as you were a sorcerer, ending the day feeling extremely exhausted with several glowing runes appearing on your skin.

This went on for some time and slowly it was starting to take a toll on you until one day it all came crashing down at once. You were practicing both offence and defence with a soldier who agreed to help you with practice, saying they also needed more of their own practice against magic users. You were feeling a little lightheaded but brushed it off, thinking nothing much from it, you’ve been lightheaded before so if you ignore it it’ll go away by itself. It didn’t go away, it just got worse making you become unsteady and everything was starting to spin around you. Your visions blurs and you suddenly topple to the ground, only making out moving shapes and the muffled sound of someone frantically calling your name before you lose complete consciousness…

When you manage to open your eyes again you find yourself back in your room in bed, looking over you see a nice bowl of soup on the little bedside table, still warm and waiting to be eaten. You sit up to enjoy the meal knowing time and effort was put into it before carefully climbing out of bed to make your way out of your room. You decide to head over to Essek’s study room, figuring he’d probably be working in there, you enter and sure enough there he sat a book in hand. Upon hearing you enter he almost immediately closes the book and places it down, that was certainly the fastest you’ve seen him redirect his attention before. Neither of you say anything right away, Essek just stands from his chair and hovers over to you, scooping you up into his arms and makes his way to sit down again.

"Mind telling me what exactly was going through your mind when you decided to give me a heart attack?" There was some firmness to his voice with genuine concern laced in.

"I-I don’t know." You fidget with your hands a little trying not to look him in the eyes.

"Yes you do (y/n), so please just tell me what’s wrong." He lifts your chin up making it so you look at him, seeing your glossy eyes, a few tears already sliding down your face.

"You work so hard and are so busy all the time you never have enough time for me anymore. I thought that now that I get to stay with you we’d have more time to play or at least teach me more about magic, but instead it’s like you now have less time for me. I just, I don’t know, thought that if I work as hard as you do you’d see that I'm still worth your time. But I guess I was just being stupid." You duck your head down from him again once you’d finished your little rant.

"You are still young and still developing your abilities, pushing yourself like that isn’t going to…" He trails off and you hear a sigh come form him, feeling his grip on you tighten a little. "I blame myself for this," you stare at him confused but let him continue. "Had I known my actions would lead to you doing this to yourself I would’ve done something sooner, I should’ve done something regardless. I suppose I have gotten so used to having you around I began to see you less as my student and more as simply a new constant in my life." He pauses and places a hand to his forehead, shaking his head in disappointment at himself. "I let myself go about the day by day blindly without considering how it could effect you and because of this I was neglecting you." He was the one to look away from you now, resisting the urge to let any tears fall.

"Hey, it’s okay." You try to comfort.

"I don’t think it is, I haven’t been treating you the way you deserve to be, made you think you had to prove something you didn’t. Of course you’re worth my time, you’re worth much more to me then I ever could’ve imagined possible and I let you down. I am so terribly sorry." He looked so defeated, like he was now the one thinking he wasn’t worth your time. You reach up and give him a comforting hug, feeling him tense slightly before returning it.

"I know you’re not perfect like you try to be for everyone." You start, nestling yourself into his chest more. "But that’s okay, you don’t have to be for me. I like you as yourself, and that’s what matters. Still would like to spend more time with you though." You mumble the last part but he still hears you giving a small chuckle.

"Tell you what, I’ll talk to the Bright Queen about getting myself a free day, like you once suggested or at the very least compromise to have less work on my plate and more time to teach you. How does that sound?" He gives you a small smile, you give him a bigger one in return. With that he tries to stand but you let out a small whine in protest, tightening your grip on him a little. "I thought you liked the idea." He gives you a slight confused look.

"I do, but you can do that later, don’t go yet, please." You give him your big eyed stare, it didn’t take long for him to agree this time. You curl yourself up against him more as he soothingly brushes your hair back, the calming motion eventually putting you to sleep.

[hanideyumeron]

Hi! Love your writing, it's really good! If it doesn't bother you, could you do a yugi amane (when it was alive) x a sick reader. Thank you!

forgive me friend for not doing this ;-; i hope you understand since this year has been so hectic. i don’t think this is my most best work but hey i tried hhh i still feel really confused when on tumblr so forgive me for that as well

Amane Yugi x sick reader 

It was a normal day for everyone, that is, everyone except for Yugi Amane. His honey coloured eyes didn’t have that playful twinkle it always had and instead was narrowed in what seemed like concern. They darted over to the door of the classroom too much for his comfort, wondering if your bubbly figure would come any moment now. No one noticed it since it was only reg and most students were talking to each other. Yes, it was only reg, it would be fine, you’d come in at any time now. his thoughts were a mirage of worry and what-ifs that made his head swirl. However, the sounds of his reg class laughing and talking started to drown out those thoughts. He folded his arms and laid his head flat against the desk. With his swirling thoughts, the noise only worsened his mood and slowly turned into a headache. People could be so annoying sometimes. 

In the end, you didn’t come. 

Amane was at first worried since you believed in perfect attendance, wondering out loud where you were to his brother at break. He had looked at him and blinked with a smile, pointing out one big detail that Amane seemed to have missed “Amane, it was raining really hard yesterday, remember? She might have just got sick! Don’t worry too much,’kay?” Amane looked at his brother with a face of realisation, mouth-blown out like an ‘o’ while his eyes regained its twinkle. That was right, the huge droplets of water had refused to let go of their reign of the land when it was time to go home, and so through critical deduction of solutions, you and Tsukasa had a race to see who could run home the fastest. 

Amane had voiced his concerns for the idea, but since you and his brother had already shot out into the rain, he sighed and followed the two of you but more slowly and of course with an umbrella. He didn’t know how Tsukasa wasn’t worried for you since it wasn’t like you to be off at all. You had once come into school when you had a tummy bug and made a scene when you ran to the nearest bathroom. If you went to school with an upset stomach, this must be even more serious. Amane was also confused about how Tsukasa didn’t get sick himself but didn’t bother to ask since it would have been a stupid question. 

Even if Tsukasa said not to worry, of course, Amane started to worry more. It was like him after all, even if he rarely showed it. So when it was time to go home, he told Tsukasa to go home without him while he checked up on you. Tsukasa just smiled and nodded, not even asking if he could join him. Amane walked up to your house and opened the gate, walking in without forgetting to close it again. With three long strides to the front door, he knocked on the door loudly. 

...No one came to the door. 

He was expecting this. At least kind of. Your parents worked a lot and would leave you to your own devices. If you didn’t come and get the door then…

Amane frowned. Now he knew that you definitely weren’t okay. It didn’t sit right with him to just leave you alone to suffer from your illness. He’d feel like a bad friend since he knew of your sickness and didn’t try to help you. He looked around and settled on lifting a gardening pot that was laid on the ground near the front door to see if anything was under it and was relieved to see that a spare key was hidden there. Using it, he opened the door and walked in. 

He felt a bit weird intruding into your house without notifying you first. It’s not as if he was breaking in, so why did it feel like it? Shaking the feeling off, he closed the door and took off his shoes peering through the main hallway of the house. “...Hello? [Y/n]?” Amane called out softly into the house. Silence echoed back and Amane’s eyes only narrowed in response. He left this bag slumped near the door of the house and slowly made his ascent to your room. The room was the nearest to him and was marked with your name etched into it to claim the room as yours. 

Slowly, he opened the door, and instantly saw the darkness that enveloped it. The only light he saw was the small, dim beams of sunlight that peeked through from the curtains and to your bed. From what he could see, he could see your normally energetic self curled into a small ball, almost motionless if it weren’t for the slow breaths that you took. You looked wrecked, your normally soft hair now wet with sweat and stuck onto your forehead. Your eyes were shut closed in pain it seemed and your laboured breaths sounded wheezy and sore. 

Amane frowned at this, the sight of you that sick made his heart writhe in pain. So with a quick smile, he set to work.

———-

Today had to be one of your worst days. 

When you woke up, you woke up sticky and sore at nearly five in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had been staring into the sun for at least a day which left you with the rest of your senses to fend for you, but one problem, the rest of your senses weren’t even working. Your sense of smell was almost null since your nose kept on being blocked and the feeling of sneezing never left. Anything you touched felt warm to you and made you want to creep away from it from how warm you already felt. Your hearing was affected by your sense of smell, leaving you partly deaf as well. 

Your mother had scolded you, saying how it was silly what you had done the day before. And through the whole lecture, your head and everything else got worse so you couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. In the end, she had left you alone in the house to go to work since it was too late to ask to be off today. Your dad was on a business trip that day and wouldn’t be home until late that week, so now you had no one to help you. But that was alright because all you wanted to do was to sleep.

When you opened your eyes for the first time since that morning, the first thing you comprehended was a wet and cold sensation on the top of your forehead. The next thing you noticed was a quiet hum of a song beside you. It sounded like a lullaby, coaxing you to sleep once more. It had made you smile, and before you knew it, you opened your eyes. The stinging hadn’t left, but at least you didn’t feel like opening them was a chore. The ceiling of your room was blurry, colours swirling in and out of view before a face appeared along with a smile. “Am I...dead?” You blurted out which made the owner of the face laugh a bit, sounding relieved to hear your voice. Then, hands reached out to your forehead and took off the cold that caressed your face. You groaned at the lack of comfort that brought, but as soon as you did, the face brought the cold back but only this time it was even colder and slightly wetter. You sighed in relief, the rush of oxygen actually feeling nice. 

“No, you’re not dead,” the figure teased, and it was when you heard that familiar teasing and playful voice that you realised that the figure that was taking care of you was none other than Amane. Your eyes shot open as your mouth drew agape, panic and disbelief flooding your system when you realised that your best friend was the one taking care of you and not an angelic being from the clouds above. As soon as your head moved off the pillow, a rush of pain shot up your spine and into your head, making it apparent that you were also dehydrated. Amane, surprised at the sudden movement, slowly pushed you back down into the bed and placed the fallen wet cloth back on your forehead. 

“Why are you here? You should be at your house!” You whined pathetically, glaring at him with as much annoyance as you could muster in that time. But seeing Amane’s worried lopsided smile made you sigh and look away, letting Amane continue with what he was doing. 

The look made it very obvious to you that he wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not in a long time. He was the type of person that didn’t have a lot of friends and the friends that he did have he cherished like gold. Pushing him away would be futile and you knew it even if you were only a young teenager. But knowing that Amane too was a young teenager looking after you didn’t sit well with you either, so you opened your mouth to- “Don’t try, you’re too sick to move,” you turned back to Amane with a dumbfounded look. What? How did he know? With a smile he giggled at your confused expression “I live with a brother who gets sick like this sometimes. I’m used to it so don’t worry,” you pouted at that. It didn’t make you feel any less bad, but since he knew what he was doing put you at ease, you were at least a bit more compliant. 

Amane babied you, helping you to sit up so you could read books on your shelf or just to keep you company. He brought you some soup your mother had quickly made for you and spoon-fed you despite your flustered attempts to make him stop. This only made him tease you more as he pretended it was an aeroplane like you would do for a toddler. Soon, the afternoon turned to evening, and Amane watched as your slightly more energetic self turned more and more tired until opening your eyes seemed like a chore. He had deemed it late enough and coaxed you into lying down, tucking you into bed. After keeping you company and also looking after you for the day he realised he too was tired. Now he just wanted to sleep. 

“Goodbye [Y/n],” he said softly, seeing the way your eyes barely stayed open. You were fighting sleep, and for someone as sick as you, sleep would be very important for you “Get well soon, I’ll check up on you tomorrow,” he turned to leave, but before he could, you had grasped his hand to make him stay. 

“It’s too late now, isn’t it? Don’t go now. I’ll feel worried for you,”

Amane looked out the window and noticed that it indeed was late. The street lamps were on, headlights of cars zoomed past leaving streaks of white in their wake and the sound of the crickets had finally made its way to his ears. Looking back to you, he saw the way that you were sitting up a bit since you reached out to grab his hand. Your eyes were pleading, of course, something you would muster to make Amane stay since he couldn’t say no to any puppy eyes, especially yours or Tsukasa’s. The reasonable answer was to stay with you since at night it was much more dangerous. So as Amane weighed his options, he let out a sigh and nodded, slipping under the covers with you. In your tired state, you had wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. Amane was almost sure that with this close proximity that he was going to get sick as well, but for him it was worth it since he was able to hug you for a night.

“Mmm love you Amane,”

Amane felt his cheeks light up. Was that an accident? It must be. Maybe you just meant it platonically. Why was he even thinking about that? Of course, you meant it platonically. Was he getting sick already? Yeah, that had to be it. Smiling he closed his eyes, already feeling more tired than he was a second ago. 

“...love you too,”

Amane was definitely sick. But his sickness was an entirely different sickness than the one that you had.

[the-badger-mole]

In Which Katara Has Two Unexpected Run Ins

“No, it’s totally fine,” Katara said, running her fingers over the silky black  fabric of the very expensive dress she would not get to wear. It had cost her nearly half a paycheck, too. With a sigh she took it down from the hook on her closet door. “I understand. We can reschedule for when you’re feeling better.”

“Babe, you’re a peach,” Jet sighed pitiably on the other end. His stuffy nose made it sound like he called Katara a beach, but  she understood his meaning. 

“I have an idea. Why don’t I bring you by some soup? I make a really good-” Katara was cut off by a sudden coughing fit on Jet’s side of the phone. 

“That’s not such a great idea,” he said when he caught his breath. “I feel awful, and I’d hate to get you sick, too. I’m just going to make myself a cup of tea and go to bed.”

Katara felt her stomach sink in disappointment. She had only been seeing Jet for a little over a month, but she was starting to really like him, and she had been looking forward to tonight. Jet had made reservations at a restaurant she’d been dying to try, and then they were supposed to go dancing at a club Jet promised she’d love. But now... 

“Well, let me know if you’re feeling up to company tomorrow,” she said. “We can watch movies or something.” 

“I’ll don’t know if I’ll be up to it, but I’ll call you if I am,” Jet promised. Then Katara heard his throat catch. “Sorry, Kitten. I’ve gotta-” The phone clattered, and Katara heard what sounded like retching. She shuddered with distaste and empathy. 

“I’ve gotta go,” Jet said a moment later, sounding weak. 

“Of course!” She made a note to drop off a care package of soup and electrolyte water the next day. “Feel better.”

“Night, Kitten.” 

The call ended, and Katara was left standing alone in the ruins of what she had hoped would be a romantic evening. She didn’t have any back-up plans. All of her friends were busy with plans that didn’t have room for one more, which meant she was looking at an evening home alone. 

“Guess I need to get some snacks,” she said. 

Despite knowing that her friends would be busy, Katara told them all what had happened. Toph was the first one to respond. Her call came in just as Katara stepped out of her car at the supermarket. 

“So, he stood you up, Sugar Queen?” Toph said without a greeting. 

“He didn’t stand me up,” Katara huffed. “Jet’s sick.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be the make-up date for having to miss your birthday?” Toph asked. Katara rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, but it’s not his fault he caught the flu.”

“Whatever,” Toph said. “So what are you going to do? It’s still pretty early.” 

“I’m just going to have a night in,” Katara said. The store doors slid open as she approached the threshold. She had to hold her phone between her ear and her shoulder while she tried to wrestle the last two carts apart. “I’m going to get some snacks and watch movies.” 

“Or you could come over and let mix you up something strong,” Toph suggested. Katara raised an eyebrow, a move that would have been useless, even if her friend had been there in person. 

“Don’t you have a bar exam to study for?” she asked pointedly, pausing her battle with the carts. “You told us all not to let you get away with trying to slack off.”

“Sure, throw my words in my face,” Toph groaned. “I’ve been at this for hours!” Katara turned her attention back to the carts. Of course there were no shopping baskets. She couldn’t catch a break that night. 

“Well, when you’re a big time,” Katara grunted as she tried, “hot-shot,” to pry, “lawyer,” the carts apart, “you’ll be grateful we were on your side.”  

“Whatever!” Toph snorted. “What are you doing? It sounds like you’re trying to deadlift a car.” 

“These stupid carts won’t come loose!” Katara complained. “I can’t-”

“Excuse me, Miss? You look like you could use this more than I can.”  Katara spun round to find herself face to smirking face with a man she hadn’t noticed in her battle with the carts. A man whose face she recognized from a too many years and too many miles ago.

“Zuko?” she gasped. 

“Zuko?” Toph repeated incredulously. “Isn’t that the guy you told Suki and me you had that massive crush on in college?” 

“Shut up, Toph!” Katara shoved her phone in her pocket hastily. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Zuko said apologetically. “I just couldn’t watch you suffer anymore.” The laugh in his tone and slight quiver in his lips suggested to Katara that he could, in fact, have kept watching. It didn’t matter, though. She went to hug him, but was blocked by the shopping cart he had come over to offer her. Smiling shyly, Zuko pushed it aside and submitted to her lung crushing hug.

“Hey, Katara. Long time no see.” 

“Long time no see?” Katara pulled away and put her hands on her hips. “Is that all you have to say? What are you doing here? The last I heard, you’d gone off to run your father’s company, and marry that...girl who hung out with your sister.”  Zuko blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“It has been a long time,” he murmured. “The job...didn’t work out. Neither did Mai and I. Um...I’m actually here for a job interview. Sokka’s letting me crash with him for a couple of days.” Katara took a step back, trying not to let the sharp pang she felt show on her face. 

“Oh...I didn’t know you and Sokka still talked,” she said. Zuko shrugged. 

“Not that often,” he told her. “And I had just reached out to ask if he knew of any good motels in the city a couple of days ago, and he said I could stay with him. I guess he never got around to mentioning it.”  Katara forced a bright smile on her face. She would bring this up with her brother later. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch,” Zuko continued. “We left things kind of weird, and...I wasn’t sure you’d  even want to hear from me.” Katara bit the inside of her lip and shrugged. 

“Well, bygones and all that,” she said. “It’s really good to see you now.” 

“Are you busy tonight?” Zuko asked. “Maybe we could grab some tea or something. My treat. It was your birthday not that long ago, right?”

“Well...my date did cancel on me last minute,” Katara admitted. “But I’m not really dressed to go out.” She motioned to her ratty jeans and well worn sweatshirt. 

“You look great,” Zuko said. Katara scoffed at him as a sudden warmth flooded her cheeks. 

“You just don’t want me to nag you about not calling for six years,” she muttered. 

“Well, no,” Zuko admitted. “But that’s what the shopping cart is for.” He grabbed the handle and offered it to her.

“Don’t you need it?” she asked. Zuko shook, his head. 

“I just came to grab a couple of things. I couldn’t find a shopping basket.” 

“We can share,” Katara offered. She winced inwardly at her eagerness. It was like sophomore year all over again. But Zuko didn’t seem to notice. 

“Sure,” he said. “We can share.” 

They slipped into conversation easily as they walked through the store. Sokka had already caught his friend up on news about family and mutual friends, so Katara asked about Zuko instead. While Katara filled the basket of the cart with snacks and cans of soup, he explained the position he had been invited to interview for. It was a competitor of his father’s company, which amused Katara more than it probably should have. Then the conversation turned to Katara. 

“So, who’s this guy who stood you up?” Zuko asked casually. “Sokka didn’t mention you had a boyfriend.” 

“It’s pretty new,” Katara said. “We’ve only been going out a couple of weeks. He met Sokka once, but it was a while ago. And he didn’t stand me up. He’s sick. I’m going to drop off a care package to him tomorrow.”

“I hope he knows he’s a lucky guy.” Zuko said it casually, but Katara felt her heart speed up. 

“Um..thanks,” she said shyly. 

“Sokka asked me to grab some beers,” Zuko told her. “Do you know where that is?”

“My next stop!” Katara grinned. “I’ll show you which brand Sokka hates the most.” They had just rounded the corner to the drinks section, when Katara stopped short, her attention caught by something at the end of the aisle.

“Jet?” she murmured. “What’s he doing here?” Zuko followed her gaze to where a young man with carefully mussed hair and leather jacket was perusing the selection of beers. 

“Your...date?” he asked. Zuko’s lips twitched down, as if he had bitten into a peppercorn. Katara squinted, trying to convince herself that she was wrong. 

“He’s sick,” Katara said, half to herself. “He’s supposed to be in bed.” A pretty woman with short dark hair came up behind him carrying a box of something. She draped herself over Jet’s shoulders and slid a box of something into his line of view. Jet turned around and grinned at her before pulling her into a kiss. 

“It looks like he’s heading in that direction,” Zuko said. Katara’s eyes snapped up at him, stricken. Her hands clenched tightly around the handle of the cart for a moment.

“I can’t believe this! He lied to me!” 

“I’m sorry Katara,” Zuko placed his hand on her elbow, but Katara turned around, hiding her face from Jet.

“I’ve got to get out of here.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Zuko protested. 

“Embarrassed?” Katara looked up at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I’m worried I might shove a can of soup where it doesn’t belong.” She stormed off, leaving Zuko to follow her with a cart. 

The fastest way to the exit was down the next aisle , and Katara hurried towards it. She had passed the last row of cleaning supplies when someone ran into her from the side. Of course it was Jet. 

“Oh! Hey, Kitten!” he said, his voice just a bit too high. “I came to the store to get some orange juice, but I’m...coughcough...still pretty sick.”

“Yeah,” Katara said drily. “I saw your nurse.”

“Kitten, I can explain-” Jet started.

“What’s to explain?” Katara snapped. “It’s pretty clear what’s going on here.”

“Well, we never said this was exclusive...” Jet said, shrugging. 

“There you are, babe!” Zuko came up beside Katara and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We’re in luck. The store has that wine spritzer you like.” 

“Wine spritzer?” Katara stared up at Zuko in confusion. He nodded enthusiastically and held her closer. “Oh! Yeah! The wine spritzer. I thought they were all out.”

“I snuck into the employees only section and grabbed a case,” Zuko said with a wink. 

“You’re so bad!” Katara laughed, slapping his chest lightly. She turned back to Jet. “This is Zuko. He’s always looking out for me.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” Zuko said, pressing his forehead to Katara’s. 

“Well, you sure moved on fast.” Jet shot Zuko a dark look. 

“Truth be known,” Katara said with a shrug, “Zuko and I had a thing a while ago, but he lived too far away. I guess, you were kind of a rebound.”

“I’m back now, though, so she doesn’t need a rebound anymore.” Zuko let his arm drop to Katara’s waist, and he countered Jet’s glare with an intimidating one of his own. Jet opened his mouth to say something else, but the dark haired woman he was with emerged from the aisles with a bright smile and a bottle of sake. 

“There you are!” she said, looping her arm through Jet’s. “You just disappeared.”

“Oh! Yumi,” Jet jumped as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Um..this is Katara.” 

“Yumi,” Katara repeated with a warm smile. “Have you two known each other long?” 

“Just a couple of weeks,” Yumi said, smiling up at Jet fondly. 

“Oh.” Katara still smiled pleasantly. “So, he hasn’t shown you his collection yet.” 

“What collection?” Yumi asked with a confused frown. 

“Toenail clippings,” Katara said. Yumi’s face fell and she took a step away from Jet in horror.

“Well, love, we should get going,” Zuko said before Jet could stammer out a defense. “Nice to meet you, Yumi. Jax.” Then he and Katara hurried to the cash registers.  They managed to pay and make out to the parking lot before bursting out laughing. 

“Oh! I can’t believe it,” Katara groaned when she finally got her laughter under control. “Toph was right.” 

“About what?” Zuko asked. 

“Jet.” Katara sighed and leaned against the side of her car. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. He leaned beside her and nudged her with his shoulder. “He was a jerk. You deserve better.” Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Everyone said she deserved better, but better never seemed to be interested in her. 

“Thanks for what you did back there,” she said, smiling weakly. “You didn’t have to.” 

“It was my honor,” Zuko smiled back. Then he chuckled. “And the look on his face when you told Yumi about his collection was worth it.” Katara’s smile widened. The sting of the evening was still fresh, but not as sharp as it would have been. Suddenly, she wasn’t ready to go home yet.   

“Hey, Zuko?” she met his eyes hopefully. “You still want to get that tea?” 

[talas-starlight]

Killing me softly - Sokka x reader

SUMMARY: Having only heard good things about Sokka, you always wanted to see how great he is for yourself. When you finally get the opportunity, you struggle to find him as funny as everyone said.  

This is based off the song killing me softly by the fugees which you can listen to: here! or there is a version by zhavia: here!

I strongly suggest you listen to the song because I think the whole vibe you get from it will get you in the mindset for this (and hopefully distract you from how poorly this was executed AHAH)

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNINGS: angsty vibes. tried to have a hopeful ending but idk if it worked lol. poor writing skills.

A/N: ahA I really couldn’t get this idea out of my head so here we are! most certainly did not do this concept/ song fic justice to the way I imagined it but lol this shit low key hurted my feelings but also tried to turn it around? Idk I think this is okay?

KEY: words in-between dividers = lyrics MY MASTERLIST: here!

I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style And so I came to see him, to listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

You knew nothing and everything about him all at the same time. Hakoda allowed you to join them as they recruited people across the nations to prepare for invasion day. In doing so, you unknowingly signed a non-verbal contract to hear all the stories and jokes about his son, Sokka. Of course, he spoke highly of his daughter, but there was an unrelenting sense of pride and joy that came with hearing about him.

“You’ll really enjoy speaking with him y/n. He can take any dull or sad moment and turn it into something that will make you laugh beyond your years. He’s been through so much, but he’s become the warrior I knew he was always destined to be.”

It was impossible not to want to meet him. You wanted to hear the stories in the flesh as he became the light in the darkness of this war.

Yet when he finally boarded the ship with his friends after Ba Sing Se, that’s all he became, a story. As a mechanic and strategist, your time was booked to the brim, building upon the plans Sokka created himself. Somehow, you managed to have interactions with Katara and Toph, even Momo, but being in the same room as Sokka? Impossible. You weren’t avoiding him by any means, and neither was he, it just seemed that even when confined to the space of a ship your duties dragged both of you into different directions…. Until now.

Finally having time to relax as you finished reviewing a draft for one segment of the invasion, you made your way mess hall in a desperate search to consume any food you could get your hands on. Walking in, Toph perked up at feeling your presence when entering the room. Considering you were always busy when working on something and she was not too chatty, you got along well with minimal conversations and comfortable silence.

You grab a bowl, filling it to the brim with fresh soup and sat at their table across from her. Feeling content as you feel the soups warm and wholesome scent fill your senses, you glance around to see who else is sitting at the table. Eyes zeroing in on Sokka’s frame at the other end of the table, your breath instantly hitches. Suddenly your face feels as warm as your soup, and you want to kick yourself for letting yourself be so affected just by your incredibly short glance at him. Shifting your focus back to your soup you make the painfully obvious decision to focus all of your attention towards it, only listening to their interactions around you. You reminded yourself that you didn’t truly know him, only what everyone else has told you. You knew better than to let yourself become a total fool for the Watertribe boy without having any proper interactions with him. Hence, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at the edge of your seat in anticipation to see Sokka joke around and tell stories with your friends. After all, that is what you were told about from the moment you met his father.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

The excitement quickly dissipated when he began to dive into this evenings’ jokes and anecdotes.

“Guys! You wouldn’t believe it!! I was exploring the ship after training today, and I found all of these Fire Nation scrolls about their art and folktales in one of the rooms, and let me tell you, it’s a load of shit!”

As everyone laughed, you momentarily stopped breathing. Your entire being began to fold into itself, terrified at the prospect of him taking all of the things you favoured about your childhood and rip them to pieces.

Katara attempted to see the light in his statement. “Come on Sokka it can’t be that bad! I mean even the Watertribe has some questionable stories, I remember even the one Gran Gran told was a bit-“

“No, Katara! This is by far soooo much suckier than those stories. Okay, so there’s this one about dragons right? What happens is that there’s this Dragon Emperor who becomes bound to a mortal’s body by a Dark Water Spirit. So obviously! I was expecting this super cool battle or revenge plot, but in the end, they turned it into this lame love story where the Dragon Emperor falls in love with a mortal who turns out to be the Dragon Empress!”

“Aw I think that’s sweet! I mean surely there would have been a battle with the Dark Water Spirit so it wouldn’t have been a total loss?”

“Ugh, Katara! You don’t get it! It's just… sooooo oogie! They shouldn’t have done that. It should have been a story about battle, and warriors! I mean come on, that’s all the Fire Nation is good for right? Destruction and battle. So why did they have to ruin that story like that with all of that lovey stuff?! It just seems like nothing good can ever come out of the Fire Nation.”

Taking another mouthful of the soup, you kept your face downward as everyone laughed at Sokka’s exclamation of hatred for the nation you grew up in. No one knew where you grew up there except Hakoda, and you liked it that way. In complete fairness to you, it wasn’t your entire identity since your mother was from the Earth Kingdom, and you only spent the first seven years of your life there. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less when he tore apart the only things you dearly loved as a child.

Toph sensing your discomfort as you didn’t join in their amusement, she swiftly diverted the conversation into a new direction. While you were grateful, the thought of being in his presence any longer made you want to cry. It clearly didn’t work either as he continued to joke around about the food and other small things he picked up about the nation throughout their journey. Silently finishing up, you didn’t say a word or even give a half-hearted smile as they all laughed. Placing your bowl in the sink, you headed straight to your room.

The actions made everyone at the table confused, yet no one spoke out about it. Afterall, no one really knew you personally, nor did they understand what caused you to cut your interaction with them so short. Sokka himself became particularly curious. Afterall just like you, he heard many great things about you from his father, admiring your kindness and work ethic from afar. So, to say he wasn’t hurt that you chose not to stay longer or even crack a genuine smile, would be a lie.

Making it to your room, you took out any piece of paper or a scroll you used for your plans and began to pour out your pain onto to pages until you passed out from exhaustion. Not caring what contents were on the other side, you allowed yourself to be unfiltered.

You knew Sokka didn’t mean any harm; everyone laughed. He became the light you oh so desired to witness for yourself. Deep down, you knew you would have laughed too if it weren’t for the fact that he took the few happy memories you had with your father and set it on fire. A fire that produced the light you wished to see… but it seemed it wasn’t in the right way you hoped for.

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

You sighed as you finally finished fixing the pipes in the lower decks of the ship, once again tired and done with today’s work, you went to the mess hall for a late dinner.

“Hey Hakoda, I finished the plumbing problem so no one on the second floor should have any troubles now.”

“Thanks, y/n! You really are such a valuable person in this team. You’re always making sure everything is up and running.”

“Of course! What would you do without me? After all, let’s not forget how I spend my free time with your invasion plans.” You joked.

Turning your back to him to scoop some food onto your plate, he spoke up from behind you. “Oh right! That reminds me, I mentioned your ideas to Sokka earlier, and he seemed to really like them! But Sokka being Sokka, he got so excited over them and asked so many questions I didn’t even know how to respond. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know he’s probably at your desk analysing all of your scrolls right now. That kid never seems to be able to contain his excitement.”

“Yeah, that’s oka-“abruptly, you dropped your plate as your brain processed the information. If he was looking at your plans, then that meant……

Not even giving the Watertribe chief another glace or end to your response, you ran. Taking the fastest route to your room, everything in your mind and your surroundings became blurred, and you became hyper-focused on the fact that Sokka probably found what you wrote about him. Desperately trying not to cry as you bumped into people in the hallways, you couldn’t think of anything worse to happen in this very moment. The very idea of him knowing how you felt about him as well as how his words affected you made you want to scream. Maybe if you got there in time, he wouldn’t have read enough to understand your feelings fully. But when you bust through your door, it was too late. Sokka stood near your desk, with all the scrolls you ever wrote on scattered around the room. Some lay on your bed, the floor, across the desk, and even one in his hands.

“M- my dad said that you had a lot of perfect ideas for the invasion. B- but I- I found… I never thought…” His eyes never met yours as he continued to read the current scroll in his hands.

You slowly approached him, not caring as you walked over every word you wrote on the floor. “Sokka…” You silently begged him to stop reading, unsure of its contents.

He kept reading clearly in shock at the words before him, “why didn’t you s-say something?”

You sighed, somewhat unsure of how to approach the situation. “It’s not my place –“

He threw the scroll to the ground, finally looking up at you with bloodshot eyes as tears streamed down his face. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S NOT YOUR PLACE Y/N! It is your place! You had… no, you HAVE every right to say something! You sat there that night as I picked away at every single thing you ever loved, and you didn’t say a thing! Why would you let me do that to you!” Sobs wracked his body, falling to his knees in front of you. Torn apart on the inside about how much he hurt you. He never wanted this to happen, not just because of his small crush on you- that didn’t matter at this very moment. The very idea that he hurt someone who was so kind and selfless as a person, ruined him.

Beginning to feel immensely guilty for his current state, you knelt down to his level. Placing your hands to his wrists, you gently moved his hands away from his face. “Sokka… hey, Sokka look at me…”

As he looked at you, you struggled to keep your composure as tears began to fill your own eyes.

“It’s okay. What you said hurt, I don’t need to explain that for you to know it. Even though it felt like a small dig into who I am as a person and what I grew up to love, it’s true. What the Fire Nation did, what they are doing is awful, but I can’t speak up to defend them. I am in many ways apart of them. I grew up there, I celebrated their holidays, cooked and ate their food, and read their folktales. As much as I hate what the words ‘Fire Nation’ symbolises to the rest of the world, to you, it’s a part of who I am. No one can take that away from me, not even myself. Despite how much it hurt me, I can’t get mad at you or anyone because your feelings, and everything you said, is valid.” Moving his arms out of your grasp, he wrapped himself around you, holding you close to his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to hear that, you’re amazing y/n. You deserve to be treated with the kindness and love you give to everyone on this ship. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I’m going to be better, I promise. I promise.” Overcome with emotion, the tears you tried so hard to hold back burst at his words.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

Neither you nor Sokka bothered to move from your intertwined embrace on the floor of your room. You were both a sobbing, crying mess. The pain from both of you suffocated the air around you as you cling onto one another for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for being from the very place that caused him so much pain.

Forgiveness for being unable to embrace so much of who you are.

The pain was unrelenting as he weaved his fingers through your hair, shifting so your noses’ and foreheads against one another as he whispered words begging for forgiveness. Wishing, praying, to the Spirits he could take it all away. Sokka’s heart burns from the raging pain that has awoken inside of him. He doesn’t stop running his fingers through your hair almost as if he can stroke away the broken pieces inside of you, looking for new ones underneath so he can start again. Because despite his resentment for where you came from, he knows that to him, you are like a divine angel. You both have your own complex and conflicting backgrounds of life, but he has a desperate desire to care for you in a way he will never be able to explain.

You wanted to lie to him. Say it didn’t hurt, say you could forget. You could do it easily, but you wouldn’t. Knowing you both suffered enough, you didn’t want to do something that could potentially cause each other more pain. This was enough. As you both continued to cry, holding one another with his hands still in your hair, you leant back slightly, bringing a shaky, tender hand to his cheek.

Looking up into his eyes, it’s awfully evident how much pain swims in his beautiful shades of blue. Yet, there seems to be an unspoken understanding as you see a small glimmer behind all the tears. The light you have been yearning for. He sees it in your eyes too. Neither of you can change or take back what’s already been said, but in this very moment there’s hope. You know you can move forward and heal together.

“We’re going to be okay.”

A/N: hi friends!! I hope you liked this one 😊

TO THE TAGLIST: hi all! i was a bit torn on what to do here because i wasn’t sure if you all only wanted to be tagged in my zuko series or my other works as well?? so im so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged in this so please just let me know if you’d only like to be on the list for the series, zuko, sokka or other characters in general :)

TAGLIST: @slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​​​ @kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​ @ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​ @nnon-it-up​

[chaseatinydream]

snakes, cats and dogs || c.s (atz)

➵ pairing: reader x choi san (ateez)

➵ word count: 2831

➵ genre: hogwarts au; rivals to lovers

➵ synopsis: at the rate things are going, hogwarts is going to become a zoo

>>>

You don’t think it’s a secret to anyone that you hate Choi San.

Alright, perhaps hate would be too strong of a word. Choi San is annoying. He pisses you off. He’s like a pesky little fly that buzzes in your ear and lands in your soup but you can never catch, he’s just that.

Annoying.

Really, really annoying.

You sigh, shaking back the sleeves of your robes to look at the time. A glance at the watch sitting on your left wrist tell you that it’s time for prefect patrol, getting up from the plush leather seats of the common room, you bid the Giant Squid goodbye with a weary wave as it slinks past the windows, basked in the ghostly green glow.

Stepping out of the doorway, you tuck your hands into your pockets, the dungeons can get a little chilly, especially at night, and you’re not in the mood to catch a cold at this time of the year. There are exams to be taken and you can’t afford to fall sick now. With a soft hum, you head to the Great Hall to meet up with the other prefect on duty tonight.

Tonight, Kim Hongjoong is waiting for you with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, feet swinging back and forth gently, perched on very end of the Ravenclaw table, bundled up in a warm knitted blue scarf. The sixth year is one of your good friends, having started off as a good mentor for your studies, as uncommon as inter-house friendships sounded.

He waves warmly the second he sees you step into the Great Hall with a soft, secretive smile, the massive school is entirely quiet and empty, completely yours. There’s magical feeling in the air when your footsteps echo in the silence of the hall, the air so often filled with chatter and laughter now hushed and drowsy with slumber.

“Good night to you.” Hongjoong raises his mug in some sort of greeting and you laugh quietly, taking a seat on the bench next to him. He slides a cup over to you as well and you sip it, letting the sweet warmth spread from the tip of your tongue down to your toes. “It’s cold. Didn’t you bring a scarf?”

“I didn’t think I would have Apparated to the North Pole the second I left the Common Room, but by then I was too lazy to go back and get it.” You shrug and Hongjoong chuckles, he’s used to your careless attitude. “I’m alright. I’ll just finish up patrol, head back to the dorms and defrost in front of the fireplace before I go to bed. Anyways, I’m sure running after him will get my body temperature up.”

At the sheer thought of him, your face pulls into a scowl.

Hongjoong winces in sympathetically. “That kid still giving you the run for your money, huh?”

“He’s so... ugh!” You complain, slamming your mug down on the table for added impact. Luckily for you, it’s already completely empty, its contents having all gone down your throat. “I just spot him sneaking out in the corridors all the time and I’m not fast enough to catch him! He’s as slippery as a snake, honestly!”

An amused smile curves Hongjoong’s lips. “Aren’t you a Slytherin too? Moreover, didn’t you use to slip out at night after curfew too last year?”

You pause, scowling, it’s too late for your mind to be working at this hour. “I... yeah, but I’m supposed to be a prefect now. It’s... it’s a pride thing. If he keeps escaping me it’s like a taunt in my face. I’ve never even seen him do anything, but he’s just there.”

Hongjoong does laugh this time, his melodious voice ringing throughout the Great Hall.

“Alright. How about we get to patrol fast so you don’t become a walking icicle by the time you return to bed?” He raises a chocolate warmed hand to pinch your cheek playfully and you laugh, batting his hand away, your bad mood instantly gone. “I take the eastern side and you take the other?”

“Howdy, Future Head Boy.” You salute and he pushes you in the arm with a laugh, you set down the mug; the house elves will clear it later for you. The two of you get up and start walking out of the Hall, Hongjoong making small talk with you about Transfiguration and the latest Quidditch match. After he makes you promise to attempt to stop San from sabotaging the semifinals (Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff), you wave and part ways.

The hallways are ghostly silent as usual, and by that you mean deathly silent aside from the mad cackling of Peeves in one of the upper classrooms. With a sigh, you slide a hand into your pocket to rest on your wand, ready to cast an Obscurio charm on the poltergeist in case he’s round the next bend. Slytherins aren’t known for being resourceful for nothing, and you guess that you’re one of the only people to know that the blinding spell works on ghosts as well.

Making your usual rounds, you scale the stairs, careful to make sure that the whimsical staircases aren’t about to move before hopping up the steps as fast as you can. And just as your foot touches the floor, you hear the groan of the staircase moving behind you; there goes your fastest way back to the dorms. With a sigh, wishing that you’d thought to bring a scarf, you step forward... and hear a strange, muffled noise.

You frown.

Pulling out your wand with cold numbed fingers, you move towards the noise, you’ve heard the basilisk stories and whatnot about werewolf professors. While you’re pretty confident in your dueling capabilities, having been invited to join the Dueling Club in your third year, you don’t want to risk anything. So, warily, you inch closer and closer to the end of the corridor, the shadows being cast by the windows in the light of the full moon really aren’t helping your paranoia, and you keep Protego on the tip of your tongue, ready to blast a Shield Charm at the first sight of danger as you round the corner-

“Woof!”

Huh?

You poke your head around the pillar and make a face, to your surprise, it’s a Shiba Inu sitting there, tail wagging excitedly. Your stare continues even as it barks a joyous little sound and runs circles around you, tongue lolling out - you’re pretty sure dogs are not on the list of approved pets in Hogwarts, and that you should report it to the teachers immediately, but...

But you’ve always had a massive weakness for dogs, and from the way this one keep pawing your legs excitedly, it likes you too! You can’t help but feel your heart fill with warmth.

“Hey there, little guy.” You murmur, getting on one knee to crouch in front of the dog, immediately it licks your hand vigorously, barking the entire time. It rubs its head against your palm and nuzzles its snout into the folds of your robes, as if searching for treats. “How did you get here?”

“Woof!” The dog barks brightly in reply, and unluckily for you, you don’t speak a word of dog. However, lady fortune shines upon to you tonight, there’s a noise down the hallway you’d just come down and you rise to your feet instantly, wand already out even before you realise.

“Shiber?” You hear a voice calling, and to your glee (and perhaps annoyance) you realise that it’s Choi San’s voice. Then you frown and glance down at the Shiba Inu at your feet, who’s still panting happily and looking up at you. Why on earth is San looking for his cat at this hour of the night?

You ignore it, however, and merely wait for your prey to round the corner. Finally you will catch him, finally you can stop running after him, and finally-

The dog runs out and you barely manage to fight down your gasp, berating the dog mentally for startling you, but before you can get upset, you hear San cry out in happiness.

“Shiber! Thank goodness I found you!” He says, sounding relieved and there’s a series of short barks in reply, and to say you’re confused is an understatement. You wrack your mind, desperately, trying to pull the frazzled pieces of your mind together, it’s eleven at night and it’s too cold for this. Isn’t Shiber a cat?

“Why did you run away, huh?” San’s voice turns scolding now and you keep silent, still utterly confused about this. You’re pretty sure San either had some wrong mushrooms at dinner or he’s just plain sleepwalking right now, until you hear the next words that leave his lips. “What would have happened if any of the professors were walking around at night and found out that you’re actually a dog, Shiber?”

For a second, you simply make a face, mind trying to fire its remaining cylinders in the cold. And then your mouth falls open, and it clicks.

Shiba Inu. Shiber. Shiba Inu. Shiber. It makes so much sense now.

“Choi San, you have a dog?” You say, incredulously as you round the corner. San almost leaps five feet into the air in shock, as if you’re Sirius Black out for his blood, with an incriminating Shiber clutched tightly to his chest. Now that you look at the Shiba Inu a little more clearly, you can see where the coloring of its fur matches that of its feline form, the coat is of the same shade, the ears twitch in exactly the same way. ”Oh my god, that’s some high level Transfiguration skills right there-”

Before you can say another word, San pins you to the wall, one hand pressed urgently against your mouth and you make a noise of protest, smacking his arm hard indignantly. “Yah!”

“Shh!” He hushes you immediately, glancing around warily as if looking out for something. Of course you don’t listen to him - what does he think he’s doing - opting instead for flailing about in a bid to get free but he’s too strong, deceptively lean arms hiding well toned biceps and forearms.

“You can’t just do this to your house prefect!” You protest against his palm, the sentence coming out more like a garbled string of incomprehensible noises rather than anything resembling real words. He ignores you, you feel your fury spike up and you’re ready to stab him in the eye with your wand when he turns to look at you, he’s very close, way too close.

“Shh! What if a teacher walks past?” He whispers fiercely into your ear, a scowl replacing his usual, devil-may-care grin. You give him and death glare and kick him in the kneecap, but he doesn’t budge in the least. Rolling your eyes, you lean away as far as you can from him, there’s nowhere to go but the warmth of his forearm cushioning your back from the stone wall, it burns through your thin robes and an unwilling flush rises to your cheeks.

“Then you’ll get detention like you should!” You hiss in reply, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And then get into trouble for bringing a dog into school, like you’re supposed to!”

San’s face go white the second those words leave your mouth, than to your absolute shock he grabs your hands pleadingly, wringing them back and forth with a frantic look on his face.

“You can’t tell.”

“What can’t I tell?” You grumble, suddenly immensely awkward, you weren’t expecting him to do this in the least, and immediately contrive to extricate yourself from the social train wreck as fast as possible. “Choi San. Choi San, let go of me!”

“You can’t tell the professors.” San says almost desperately, subconsciously pressing forward in his distress, and you make a face as you try to back away, whoa, whoa, whoa, personal bubble, boy! “Please!”

“I’m a prefect, I can’t just let you get away with stuff like that.” You snap, still trying to pull away from him. “What, the worst thing they can do is send Shiber back to your parents, it’s not like the school will turn him into hot dog or something-”

“They won’t.” San tells you, and for the first time you hear the edge of desperation and sheer, undiluted fear in his voice, his hand gripping your impossibly tight. “But my parents will.”

It’s no secret to the whole school that Choi San is practically nobility, even among the Slytherins. He’s the only son borne of a marriage between two aristocratic families. Power, prestige, wealth, he has it all, and even his money has its own prestige, it’s old money, businesses and trades that have been passed down the generations. And his parents wouldn’t take care of one dog?

“Wait.” You pause, giving him a confused look. “You mean... your parents didn’t give you the dog? How did you get it?”

“I rescued him from Hogsmeade.” He says, finally removing his hands from you, belatedly, you realise that you miss the warmth of his hands, goosebumps immediately racing across your skin where his skin once touched yours. “It was winter of our third year, and I found him in an alleyway behind Knockturn Alley, freezing and starving to death. I figured his previous owner must have abandoned him, so I brought him back with me to the castle... they aren’t allowed in the school, so I transfigured him to look like a cat... but he still barks sometimes and-”

“Explains your weird ass cat.” You realise, unable to believe how long you’ve been fooled for two whole years. “You mean this kind of Transfiguration in Year Three? All on your own?”

San at least has the conscience to look a little guiltily, scratching at his head awkwardly. “Well I... I did ask Mcgonagall to give me advanced lessons meant for the Year Sixes, that’s how I-”

You hold up a hand, sighing. “Okay, okay, I get it, you’re genius.” San opens his mouth to protest but then you crouch in front of Shiber, who’s still barking cheerfully, one hand coming up to scratch the fur around the ruff of his neck. “You say your parents won’t take him in? Then what do you do during winter break when you go back to your home?”

“Not home, house.” San corrects you immediately, a dark shadow crossing his face the second the words pass his lips and you feel a twinge of sympathy. Even for a Half Blood (one of the only to ever get in Slytherin, you might add) yourself, you've heard of the notoriety of the nobles and are lucky not to be one of them yourself. “Wooyoung takes him back with him to his family in the Muggle world but...” He pauses, looking slightly upset. “I don’t want to cause more trouble to his family than I already have...”

Slytherins are well known for being skilled in getting others to do what they want through any means possible. Whether it be emotional manipulation, underhanded, subtle pressurizing or completely shameless, full blown threatening, the means don’t matter, only the end. The lot of you are Slytherins, after all, and to each his own. San might be just trying to play you along like a puppet on a string, but still, you have nothing to lose by allowing him to keep his pet (you do have a weak spot for the small cat... uhh, dog).

However, you can’t just let this opportunity slide past you, it’s simply not in your nature to do so. “Well...” You drag out the word, pretending to consider this carefully and rubbing your chin. “I can’t just let you get away with doing something like this...” Your sentence trails off meaningfully and San’s eyes widen minutely, before he pauses to look at you more carefully with a guarded expression.

“What do you want from me?” He asks cautiously. Will it be money, an invitation to one of those prestigious galas that his parents host but he never wants to go to, or something even more exorbitant? Instead, you shrug carelessly. He’s a Slytherin, you’re a Slytherin. The two of you are birds of the same feather, or well, in this case, snakes of the same scale, and he knows that no Slytherin will ever in their right mind do a favour for a stranger without a reward.

“Nothing at the moment. How about you owe me a favor?” You say, with a cheeky grin, fingers reaching down to stroke your fingers through the dog’s fur. San takes a moment to think, looking down at Shiber, the dog barks happily and wags its tail at its master.

The he sighs, nods and turns to you. “Fine.” You smile triumphantly, hold out your hand, a grin playing on your lips.

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

And that’s the beginning of it all.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 102

Okay, trying to queue this again after it apparently got eaten along with chapter 101.

Y’all pray for me to whatever higher powers you believe in or can make up on the spot. Thanks.

Thanks for this chapter goes to the fabulous anon who sent me an ask about Jedis. I really, really hope you are seeing this chapter and I hope you like it. I also want to thank @baelpenrose​ as my resident Star Wars expert, who checked, double checked, and triple checked my writing to make sure everything was as entertaining/accurate as possible.

Before you all cringe at some comments Sophia makes, she is deliberately downplaying her knowledge of Star Wars in an attempt to see if she can give some of the other characters a twitchy eye.

After an extraordinarily bizarre situation regarding my former foe and who I assumed was his partner, I was profoundly relieved to find myself in a very boring, very normal situation a couple of weeks later. Even the regular family dinner was pretty normal: grilled cheese on a very good sourdough, with a tomato soup so garlicky that even I had no objections to it. I made a point to puree it, so Derek was very happy with the texture and I was happy with the flavor. Arthur shot me odd looks once in a while, but it was a happy, calm dinner.

And things were going… so well… I thought as Maverick dragged everyone into his quiet argument with Sam.

“Sam,” He stated emphatically as he dunked his sandwich and ripped a tomato-soaked piece from it. “We all want it to be real but… humans don’t exist outside of Earth and the Ark.”

“Yoda is not human,” Sam insisted loudly, grinning the entire time.

I choked on my soup. “Yoda? You two have been arguing Star Wars this whole time?”

“Maverick insists they are not real,” Sam enunciated carefully. When he got excited about a topic he loved, he had a tendency to rush everything and drop syllables, making his words nearly impossible to understand.

“They meaning Jedi?” Arthur asked, eyeballing the pile of sandwiches on the table. Finally he snagged his third half-sandwich and dunked it without ceremony. “As much as I wish they were real, I have my doubts.”

So did I. “Human beings who can use telepathy, telekinesis, and distance-empathy?” I scrunched my nose. “I think that’s a bit far-fetched.”

“But extraterrestrials exist,” Sam pointed out.

Conor nodded. “They do, obviously. Otherwise, Noah would be a bloody big figment of our imagination.” Shaking his head, he smiled. “If we didn’t make Santa real as children, I doubt we could make up someone like Noah, right?”

Sam only got more serious. “I was always taught that aliens don’t exist. My teachers told me that the only life off of Earth were bacteria. But, even if Else is bacteria, Noah isn’t. So, maybe other things we thought were pretend are real.”

The table was silent for a moment, shattered only by Derek dusting bread crumbs from his hands as ceremoniously and loudly as humanly possible. “Sam has a point,” he signed. “Fabricators exist, aliens exist.. Hell, telepathy exists - “

“Not telepathy,” Miys interjected from above.

“Neuro-pheremonal communication exists,” Derek finger-spelled, making a point of how cumbersome the term was in a way none of the rest of us really could. Seven minutes later, he took a slurp of soup and continued. “Unicorns exist, even if they are chubby. Why not Jedi?”

I opened my mouth to refute, then realized I couldn’t: we had the genetic code for both narwhals and rhinoceros in the gene bank. Good effing luck convincing anyone unicorns don’t exist, I guess. Instead, I grasped on my one last leg of logic. “But humans, like Luke Starkiller and Obi-whatsit Kenoshi don’t actually exist.”

Maverick looked absolutely revolted by something, which confused me. He liked tomato soup, and actually chose the cheese for the sandwiches himself. “Sophia. Have you even seen those movies?” He was absolutely aghast as he posed his question, and I suddenly understood what he was revolted by.

“Of course I did,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “In college, in Intro to Adolescent Literature.”

Soup abruptly coated everything on the table as both Arthur and Conor spat violently at my clarification. Arthur scrubbed his chin the fastest, so had the honor of levelling his incredulity at me. “Sophia Reid. Do you mean to tell me that you have only seen Star Wars ONE TIME?”

I shook my head, confused. “No. I’ve seen all three.”

“ELEVEN,” Sam corrected me loudly. “There are eleven movies.”

“Please, please tell me you at least saw Rogue One,” Maverick begged. “You may not have known it was a Star Wars movie?”

“Is that the one where the robot hits the guy and says he has another fresh one?” I asked carefully.

Maverick nodded. Arthur, however, looked like he was about to start breathing fire. “I am going to force you to consume every bit of Star Wars media worth consuming if I have to get Charly and Derek to program the audio versions to play in every room you enter.”

“I can do that,” Derek signed, unhelpfully.

Arthur just nodded. “See? I can make this happen. Your quarters will feel like Hoth, all digital communications will sound like C-3PO, and many Bothans will die before your datapad functions.”

Alarmingly, Miys interjected. “Wisdom, Bothans are an endangered species. Please do not encourage Educator Farro to commit atrocities.”

I was still gasping in confusion when Arthur recovered from his choking. “Oh shit. Bothans are real? They were a very back-stabby race of dog-type people who fought against fascists in Terran media. I thought, at least. I wouldn’t actually kill a real one… I am far more high functioning of a sociopath than that, thank you.”

“Noah,” I choked out. “Are you serious? Are Bothans real?”

“Affirmative,” they responded, setting off an entirely new round of choking and sputtering. I would need to have something done about my floors if this kept up. “And while they do resemble Terran canines on a very superficial level, they are genetically more closely related to a Terran fern.”

Arthur looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. “That is the least back-stabbing and least threatening plant I can possibly think of.”

Conor, not to be outdone, was still curious. “Boston or Fiddlehead?”

“Asparagus fern, Human Conor,” was the reply that set off a thousand coughs.

Sam recovered first. “That does not mean Jedi don’t exist,” he insisted.

“Of course Jedi exist,” Miys answered in a tone that was as close to being confused as I had ever heard.

Almost immediately, Arthur, Maverick, and Sam started cheering and high-fiving. Conor looked confused, while I spat my soup out again.

“WHAT?” I choked out between attempts at keeping tomatoes and garlic out of my lungs.

“They are as real as any member of any other Terran religion.”

Silence ruled the room for a split second, broken first by Arthur throwing his fork in the air behind him.  Like a signal, it led to Sam and Maverick dropping their head to their forearms with a groan.

I managed to recover enough to slide my food away, lest I risk death over an absurd conversation. “Are there anything like Jedi in the known galaxy?” I asked, receiving a thumbs up from Arthur, who was still trying not to choke on his soup.

“Only in small measures.”

That seemed like the magic phrase to snap Arthur out of whatever coughing fit he was having. “Are there any species in the galaxy that have Jedi abilities?”

“You will need to be more specific.”

Conor, laughter out of his system, joined gamely. “Is there anything that can move physical objects without touching them directly?” he started.

“Several species can,” Miys conceded. “Those who only experience what you consider ‘sight’ as changes in air currents can, in fifty-four percent of cases so far, also change the air currents in a sufficient way as to move physical objects.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “They can stare at something hard enough to move it?”

“Wisdom, if I experienced physical pain, I am certain that your oversimplification just now would have caused such a sensation.”

Without rebutting, I waved for Miys to continue and ignored the laughter caused by the comment.

“Similarly, there are species more limited than Hujylsogox, who can perceive the physical world strictly through sound,” they continued. “In such cases, it is not uncommon for these species to also alter their surroundings by vibrating physical objects at a frequency that causes them to move within physical space.” A brief pause before, “And no, Wisdom, that does not mean they scream at objects until such objects move. I would also like to point out, Educator Farro, that the same species can cause internal organs to vibrate as a sufficient frequency as to cut off air flow.”

“Force choke is real,” Arthur whisper-shouted, mildly horrified. Clearing his throat, he spoke more clearly for his next question. “What about ‘there is a disturbance in the Force, as if many voices cried out’ etc?”

Miys buzzed thoughtfully for a moment before replying more clearly. “There are number of species who are able to perceive and interpret with great accuracy any changes in interstellar radiation, no matter how small. Should, say, a star go nova or collapse into a black hole, they are very reliable in providing information to cartographers. Should such a species state with certainty that a planet ceased to exist, I would need to see the planet from orbit in order to disbelieve them.”

Maverick let loose a low whistle, but it was Sam who spoke next. “But what about living beings, on an individual level. I know you can do that, but can any other species?”

“It is, perhaps, the most common trait in the known galaxy,” Miys admitted. “Even humans can do this, to a degree, although you tend to ignore it against all logic.”

“Okay. What about force lightning, though?”

I actually started to respond to that, having an answer finally, but Miys beat me to the draw. “Species who communicate through electrical currents are more numerous in the galaxy than those who can see. In the same way, they need to be able to manipulate such currents. Their young are frequently sequestered on their home worlds in order to prevent electrocution of species whose neural organs can be disrupted by uncontrolled communication. The same species are capable of using those same currents to increase their own synaptic response and reflexes.”

I almost wanted to laugh at Maverick’s face. He looked frustrated and ashamed in a way that I could not figure out. Maybe because these abilities existed, but not in humans? Regardless, his tone was frustrated when he asked his next question. “What about force ghosts? Please tell me those are real?”

“Very much so,” Miys confirmed. “Though likely not in the way you think. What you consider ‘Force Ghosts’ are, in the galaxy as it is, the result of technological advancement combined with spiritual beliefs.” A few groans surrounded the table, but Maverick perked up slightly. “Many species believe, as a result of their evolution, that their predecessors’ life energy persists after death. In these cultures, it is so common as to be unremarkable for a person to have a synaptic recording chip installed shortly after birth, to record their entire lives. They, then, pass their chip on to their successor in  position.” Wait a minute… I thought, but Miys continued before I could put everything together. “In such circumstances, many species’s neural organs will manifest a… personality, separate from the original, in order to preserve mental stability. Such manifestations are very similar to what Terran media considers a ‘Force ghost’.”

“Hang on,” I ventured, holding my hand up emphatically to cut off any other questions from the table. “That. Stop there.” Taking a deep breath, I thought back through everything I had read in the past. “I thought the idea of deliberately having multiple, distinct identities was… a story, honestly.”

“Even in your own past, it was discovered that the human brain can host two distinct personalities with no difficulty, Wisdom,” Miys admonished. “These species, however, are uniquely adapted so that, along with the memory implant, they suffer no actual combination or confusion of experiences. What their ancestor experienced is their ancestor’s memory, and what the person experiences is the person's memory. A person cannot overwrite an ancestral core. Only speak to it.”

“Can humans do that?” Sam asked, dazed in wonder at this new revelation.

“Not yet,” Miys responded. “But I do insist on the word ‘yet’, as you were never meant to do many of the things you do now.”

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