#half dead and delirious rn

[therandomartmaker]

Clockwork is Kronos AU or smthn? Prompt?

idk, but something or other leads to Danny being introduced/introducing himself as Kronos’ son (youngest or! oldest for shits and giggles because i think it’d be really funny for Diana to just go, why are you older than Zeus, child)

and everyone’s like “Kronos had a son he didn’t eat?”

And Clockwork just drops a green stickynote that says “the rest of them are going to be little shits, of course I have a favourite child,” ‘cause obviously he looked into the future to know what his children were like and chose to give them trauma in response to that.

and Danny’s just so fucking tired, says i love you too, dad and then deals with whatever threat or issue he’s put through

and Diana is now on the hunt for her uncle (?)

[sorencd]

a scenario with neil where another character (maybe knox?) is flirting with you or maybe tells the poets that he wants to ask you out and neil gets jealous would be so amazing if you’re willing to write it!

im so sorry if this comes off as messy or smth i just woke up from this surreal, felt-like-a-thousand-years nap and i am so disoriented rn but i needed to write this fic 😝😝also the entire time i read this with alex's voice in mind because i finished watching a clockwork orange this morning and i couldn’t get his british narrative voice out of my head. that's all, i hope u enjoy this, my brothers.

"alright, take a knee lads. i've got news."

knox proclaimed as he stood up, his voice gently resounding along the dimly light cave. the hood he wore accentuated the somewhat ominous, shakesperean over-dramatic tone he spoke in. the other poets and you diverted their attention from the snack-filled coat on the ground to him, curiously anticipating what their fellow poet was about to say.

“i’ve been thinking, won’t it be a brilliant idea to ask out the lovely (y/n)?”

his leather covered feet clicked against the damp ground, his face glimmering with smugness as he looked at you. half-expecting you and the poets to agree to his question. you rolled your eyes, disregarding his usual foolish antics and resumed your secluded talk with todd about cooking.

“i think that’s a no from (y/n), knox.”

charlie’s exclaimed while his loud cackle reverberated through the cave as soon as he saw the scrunched-up nose you had on your face. a clear sign you didn’t like what knox said.

“it never hurts to try, no?”

“it might, neil here looks like he’s got his knickers in a twist.”

everyone’s attention quickly focused on neil, who just as fast as the other poets’ heads turn removed the grouchy look on his face before anyone could see how much the situation was affecting him.

“what?”

“no need to grip your pants that tight, give it a break.” charlie teased, jabbing his elbow into neil’s side.

you didn’t want to stay any longer, you could feel the conversation lead to somewhere unpleasant and you weren’t gonna stay long enough to find out. besides, your eyes were giving up on you.

“i think i’ll be the first one to hit the hay.”

“this early?”

you dusted off any debris or dirt away from your pajamas and stood up from your spot.

“good night!”

a flurry of voices wished you good night and the sounds of you walking away echoed from within the cave, with how focused you are in staring into the abyss, you couldn’t hear the footsteps that followed yours.

“(y/n).”

you quickly whipped your head around to find neil, jogging slightly to catch up with you.

“neil?”

“the one and only.”

“are you making sure i get back to my room safe? aw you didn’t have to.”

he laughed, softly and gently, as the wind blew past the two of you.

“are you okay? you look like you were about to kill someone.”

neil rolled his eyes before sighing, pocketing both of his cold hands.

“i just didn’t like what knox said.”

“what, were you jealous?”

you teased, a small playful grin adorning your lips. you looked at him, expecting him to be sharing the same look as you.

“what if i said i was?”

he looked into your eyes, as if he was mesmerizing at each feature on your face, and as if he was awaiting your response.

“it’s getting late, neil. you’re probably a bit delirious. let’s hurry back.”

“i’m not.” he stopped dead in his tracks, leaving him a few steps behind before you stopped your own walking.

“i like you, i’ve liked you since the moment i’ve met you, (y/n).”

unlike the cold and chilly winds that kept gushing and embracing your body, your cheeks were another story. it felt like they were on fire, you could almost already hear neil calling you a tomato with how red they were.

he took a few steps forward, he took off the coat that hugged his shoulders and offered it towards you.

“would you like to go out with me?”

[shoezuki]

tryna write next ch of doctor fic but i am FIGHTING for my LIFE. idk how i want sampo waking up and actually talkin to gepard to go like.

im strugglin w this shit i have multiple vague ideas in mind like a) sampo is still delirious and out of it, half in and out of sleep and gepard cant really get anything serious out of him rn or b) sampo delirious, but gepard is frustrated and has been stewing over sampo leaving him by the wall. gives sampo a piece of his mind but sampo fell asleep at some point. OR c) sampo is somewhat alright, almost delirious, but him and gepard can talk. gep is trying to understand wht the fuck happened, get sampo to talk esp about who wanted him dead, but sampo is brushing it off and acting like nothing happened. gep gets frustrated and tries to leave but sampo finally shows his real face and begs gepard to stay.

and EVEN THEN theres a lot of other things im stuck on like idk what i do n do not wanna focus on in this specific ch. do I want to bring bronya and pela into this? should natasha and gepard talk bout who sampo ran from? should I develop that aspect of who tried to kill him in the beginning, or save that for next thing? hell. too many thoughts

[the-ellia-west]

heyyyy happy TT

Tell me about your favorite ship plzzzz (could be from any wip) :DD

Thx for the ask!

FAVORITE Ship?

Eveny and Jakkon make me VERY emotional and I'm on a J&R High rn so I'm gonna go for it

Jakkon is a VERY traumatized Satyr

And Eveny is a kind, Lighthearted Fae/Fairy themed around Lilacs and The color Purple

Jak's love languages are Quality time to recieve, and Acts of Service to give

Evie's Love languages are The precice match of Jak's, Acts of service to help with and recieve, and Quality time to give

They met when A 16-year-old, beaten almost-to-death Jak turned up unconscious in the forest off of Eveny's family Vineyard.

Her and Rose dragged him back to the house to patch him up. And he half woke up, and this happened.

Eveny (15) - *bandaging a wound*

Jak (16) - *sort of wakes up most of the way*

Eveny - Uh... hi?

Jak - *delirious* Am... I... dead?

Eveny - No?

Jak - I don't think I'm supposed to see angels then?? *falls back unconscious*

Eveny - *turns bright red*

Rose:

And after that, Jak stayed at the Vineyard as a worker, and grew into a happy adult with Eveny where he got a job, built her a house, and proposed at the housewarming party.

They got married 6 months later, had a son, and then...

SAD SHIT

Then their son died (Spoilers if I tell you how or why)

They might have been fine after that

But then Eveny Died

(Find some angst scenes over on @jakkon-and-rose-topic )

[supernatural-reacts]

Season 8 episode 21

- so they found Kevin?

- where did they get the other half of the tablet?

- I feel like I missed something

- ohhh it’s not them okay that makes sense

- “I was born to direct.” I know I shouldn’t like Crowley rn but

- Sam being sick makes me sad

- okay I don’t think Kevin is actually dead? But this is sad

- CAS!!!

- “there’s just so many biggersons” what is this show

- yeah Dean that’s not cool

- the angels killed all these people?

- OH NO CAS

- “honestly I think you came off the line with a crack in your chassis” OH FUCK IT IS THEE LINE

- “in the words of a good friend... bite me” I LOVE HIM

- Sam is delirious omg

- leave Cas alone :(

- CROWLEY!!

- DID YOU JUST SHOOT CAS NO NO

- OH MY GOD THAT IS DISGUSTING

- “I could never go on a quest like that because I’m not clean” I’m gonna cry

- this is metatron?

- “my demons were too polite?” AHSHSKKKALALH

- metatron is annoying

- to cure a demon??

- THEY ALMOST HIT CAS WITH THE CAR OMG

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Carly

Ali: How do you like your  🥚🍳 in the morning? Carly: no 🐣 Carly: ha Ali: 🐔 didn't show up in your roost later, did he? Carly: he must be scared of you Carly: 🔮 Ali: or my 🐺 Carly: maybe Ali: eggs aside, how you feeling, chick? Carly: 😷🤒🤕🤢🤮 Ali: 👎👎👎👎👎 Ali: unacceptable! Ali: what do you need, kill or cure? Carly: cure forever Carly: im too young to die Ali: I'll swing by with my witches brew Ali: actually doesn't taste like ☠ either Ali: pure 😇 Carly: aw Carly: really? Ali: 'course, not gonna half-arse the job Ali: and it makes a full pot, no sense in not sharing the 💚 Carly: 💙 Carly: wat does it taste like? Ali: like Christmas 🎄🎅🤶🎁❄️🌨️☃️✨🌟 Carly: 😋😊🥰 Ali: it's got ginger and peppermint in Ali: the only other person hanging out their arse is my brother and he would rather die 'cos he's grumpy 👴 man energy so Carly: no 🦃 tho yea?! ha Carly: oh no he sounds like my da Carly: which cute bro is it? Ali: definitely not 😂 Ali: some greens but not sprouts Ali: the freckly one Carly: did u heal my heart to 💔😢? Carly: course itd be the most beautiful one Ali: oh no, you're delirious Ali: I'll come quick 😜 Carly: dont b jealous 👼 hes only the most beautiful boy Ali: 😏 My ma'll be gutted Carly: do u have a tea for that? Ali: 🍋 'cos she's so bitter? Ali: I'll see if she goes for it Carly: noooo 🍯 so she wont be Ali: you're too sweet yourself, Walsh Carly: aw Carly: but ur the 1 who saved me Carly: ur the sweetest Ali: anyone would Carly: nah ur the 1st Carly: not just saying it to u get ur fairy wings Ali: had to fly away from that particular 🐔 plenty myself Ali: harmless and flightless though he is, most the time Carly: yea Carly: he talks about u wen hes been on it Carly: the 1 that flew away Ali: uh oh Ali: can't let a boy ✂ your wings Ali: ever Ali: ever Ali: 👼🏽 🐔 🐧 🐦 🐤 🐣 🐥 🦆 🦢 🦅 🦉 🦚 🦜 🦇 🐝 🦋 🐞 🦗 🦟 🐓 🦃 🕊 Carly: im 😕💫🙃 but idk if those were the guests i danced with Carly: did get a cute lil 🎶🎤 to fall asleep to tho 💙🕊 Carly: 🌚🌝🌛🌜🌞 Ali: very 👸 of you though Ali: I can 👀 it Carly: my ma is trying to make me clean Carly: 🐇🐁🐀🐿🦔🐾 pls Ali: also unacceptable Ali: not 'til you're better Ali: use my wings to fly through and 🤞 he don't get the wrong idea about who I'm there to see Carly: [sends her a pic of whatever caravan mess she caused last night that her mum is raging about] Carly: so u can play a game of spot whats got her 😠 Carly: cuz idk Ali: Fun 🧐🤔🤨 Ali: angry mothers are my forte Ali: [does the circling the hazzards moment on the pic] Carly: making her angry is mine but nah to knowing y ever ever Carly: k ur cute & smart Carly: 🌟 Ali: it's rarely logical, but 🤫 on that or it's hulk levels in 0-60 Ali: how are you this nice when you're 😷🤒🤕🤢🤮 Ali: that's a skill, rare one at that 💎✨ Carly: my da is looking green must of had his own 🎶🍻💃 ha Carly: idk i can b nicer? but k now i know ronan aint been talking bout me when hes 🍺 or 💊 Ali: can be a tea party for three Ali: have to bring his own 🎩 though Ali: not to me anyway Ali: but as you can tell Ali: 🐺 keeps all the 🐓🐓🐓 away Carly: 🐇🐇🐇♠️♣️♥️♦️🐇🐇🐇 Carly: she is fierce Ali: she likes to think so Ali: 🐶 really Carly: course ur not scared of her silly Carly: u love her Carly: im a 🐈 person ha Ali: [sends her a load of pictures of Bluebeard she didn't ask for rather than being like do I love her hmm] Carly: AW!!!! Carly: 🥰🤗 Ali: he's captain ☠🏴 but there's always room aboard Carly: thats the best offer ive had from a gentleman ever ever ever Carly: whats his name? Ali: Bluebeard Ali: and he is MOSTLY a gentleman if you can handle some toe nibbling Carly: 😍😍😍😍 Carly: into it Carly: ive done more for lads i just met who aint as beautiful so Ali: 😂 I feel that Ali: honestly, it's quite comforting, when he doesn't sneak attack you with it Carly: [sends her a selfie that shouldn't be as adorable as it is] Carly: now u can introduce us Carly: 👋 baby blue Ali: the 😍😍😍😍 are mutual Ali: I can tell Carly: yay Carly: 🧡 Ali: is there anything else you need/we want for the tea party? Ali: en-route at last Carly: ur really coming? Ali: yeah, sorry I was ages, it's a whole process brewing it Ali: also a dead giveaway you're 😷🤒🤕🤢🤮 which obvs my ma takes as her cue to be all Spanish inquisition about it Ali: 📚 of my mostly-fictional-but-which-are-and-which-aren't-mother exploits later Carly: sorry iou so much magic Ali: nah, don't worry about it 👸 Ali: who doesn't love a little scandal with their morning brew? she deffo does Carly: its too late im looking for 🍀 Carly: among the 🌼🌼🌼 Ali: awh Ali: I'm never turning down extra luck Ali: we can make daisy-chains Carly: its the dresscode Carly: soz da Ali: does he have a 🧔? Ali: that's a #look Carly: not rn Carly: my ma wasnt on @ me only to clean up Carly: he had his turn Ali: damn it Ali: maybe a nice belt Ali: I'll be 🤔 Carly: dont b 💔😢 he has bushy eyebrows Ali: same Ali: he's earnt his invite back Ali: your ma gonna have to chill though Ali: and it ain't that kinda tea 💔 Carly: you wont b able to tell if shes angry or surprised Ali: 😚 ⬅ I know the vibe Ali: you do you babe Carly: she used to let me sort em out but there was an accident Carly: which im sworn to secrecy about Ali: I'm so good with secrets 🙏🙏🙏 Carly: k Carly: my head zoned out but my hands kept going like Ali: you were meditating you can't help having  🌌🧠 Ali: I'll 🤭 now and never tell, don't worry Mrs W Carly: @ school yea im meditating on your q sir relax Carly: ha love that Ali: they just ask questions to answer it themselves, what is the point Carly: u coming for my ma again? Ali: 🤫 bad first impression, that Carly: shes heard it from ronan too sorry Carly: lad has loose lips Ali: honestly Ali: 🙄 can't keep up with my bad reputation Carly: ud think hed be better at kissing Carly: its talk talk talk Carly: more good things about u than ive made it seem like tho Ali: he was a big talker Ali: probably 'cos he ain't allowed with the lads Carly: if he talked about what a 👼 u are & how 💔😢 he is theyd uninvite him from the bonfire Carly: its sweet really how hung up hes got Ali: he only thinks I'm an 👼 'cos he took my virginity probs Ali: that's more suitable 🔥side chat Carly: he goes on about that alot but I thought he was lying Carly: oh no that sounds bad Carly: not calling u a slag ur obvs not its y he likes u more Ali: 😂 I'm fine with slag Ali: all definition dependent anyway Carly: yea same Carly: can be hot if ur in the mood Ali: right, and if I'm a slag 'cos I didn't marry him then I'll take it Carly: & hes not allowed to marry gorgers theyd wanna throw him in the 🔥 Ali: exactly Ali: we can't both be 💔😢 forever can we boy Carly: just me @ the party til u came to my rescue Ali: 🥺 Ali: What was he even on about then, like? Ali: dickhead Carly: idk i zone out wen he shouts @ me too Ali: I can always poison a cup and send it his way Ali: just say the word Carly: hes not that bad Ali: okay okay, just some laxatives Ali: 'cos he's a bit 💩 Carly: ha Ali: no 🌼🌼🌼 unless he says soz then Carly: but his beautiful curls 🥺 Ali: hmm, a good point Ali: be strong, baby Carly: ill throw one @ him & run away Carly: back to u Ali: you're so adorable Carly: says u Carly: 👼👸🏼 Ali: 💚 we're gonna have an adventure when the tea hits okay Ali: I've decided Carly: k thats the kinda 🎄🎅🤶🎁 it is Carly: i do want the energy of a kid on xmas morning Ali: that's the best Ali: how I'm tryna be every day Carly: 💫⭐️🌟✨⚡️☄️ 🚀🛸 Ali: if only 🚀 Ali: this bike can only go as fast as my lil legs can carry, like Carly: aw baby Carly: i shouldve asked u where u live before this 2nd rescue was launched Carly: im sorry Ali: No distance is too far for a fair maiden Carly: ill have to see what other 🔮 i can find before u get here Carly: dont love ious Ali: there's no ious Carly: [sending her loads of pics of her with or just pics of the cat lady's cats that she's rounding up for this tea party and they're adorable] Ali: 😍💞😻 Ali: okay, non-debt fully paid though Carly: [just rambling about the names she's given each cat cos her and cat lady don't know each other properly til Ali comes along and like facts about each cat/her fave things cos she's a big nerd] Ali: I love them Ali: I'm gonna get them some 🐟🐟🐟 when I get tea party tings Ali: some cream, awh, okay, this is happening Carly: im picking enough 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼 for everyone Ali: should've put Bluebs in my basket Ali: next time Carly: aw Carly: Humbug might try & fight him Carly: youd b there to protect him tho Ali: I can ref Ali: my little brother is always trying to play-fight everyone so I'm well-versed Carly: is he ticklish? that works for me Carly: broken up lots of fights Ali: big time Ali: his kryptonite Ali: reckon it's against the rules in professional fights but preparing him for anything like any good big sister Carly: ha Carly: aw i bet ur an amazing sister Carly: if i had 1 maybe id wanna be on site sometimes Carly: my ma's eyebrows r hardly a call to home Ali: he might disagree but he's 5 so what does he know 😉 Ali: feel that though Ali: home is just a base, whole 🌍 out there Carly: wen ur 5 you argue to argue Carly: yea if u dont use ur wings theyll think u dont want em 💔😢 Ali: flying is like riding a 🚲 though Carly: r we goin on a 🚲 adventure? Ali: definitely Ali: ugh, need one of those wagons for the 😻😻😻s Carly: ☺️its gonna b so fun! Carly: we might meet more 🐈🐈🐈🐈 Ali: way better than 🐔 Carly: ha Carly: do u have 🔮 left to help me find shoes? Ali: have you checked the fridge? Carly: [a pause while she do] Carly: theyre not there 😕🧐 Ali: damn, that'd be the last place I'd look though Ali: were they in the mess your Ma was sounding off about fr Carly: o mayb Carly: if i was wearing any when you dropped me off Ali: 🤔 I don't know if I recall any glass slippers Ali: I'll ask Lene hold up Carly: 👸 energy Carly: but idk if i wanna scary 🐺 at my door Ali: turns out she's actually your 👵 Carly: ha my grandma is 💍 to god Carly: its not close to the energy shes putting out Ali: she'd probably tell your actual that God is a gay girl Ali: nah she's well 😇 around fam, just hide behind your Ma and me, baby, you'll be fine Carly: ha that wasn't in any of the kids bible stories she sent me every 🎄🎅🤶🎁 Carly: her god is 😠 than Humbug Carly: he likes to shout so i gotta zone out Carly: aw that's sweet ur ma loves her too? Ali: Hooray for Catholicism, yeah? 😏 Ali: she loves my Ma, more like Carly: we spend our sundays on our knees nana but its 🚽🤮 or u kno a bigger sin Carly: u do look like her i remember Ali: that's not QUITE 🚽🤮 levels but close 😂 Carly: nah its nice u have the same 👀💙✨ Carly: idk who i look like Carly: postman maybe Ali: now I don't know whether to 😳 or be 🤨 you like my Ma too Ali: you look like you and that's Ali: 💛 😍 😘 🥰 😚 👸 👼🏽 🐰 🌼 🌻 🌞 🍓 🍑 🍨 🍰 🍭 🍬 🎆 💜 Carly: yea 🤞🙏🌠 the postman isnt my da cuz hes a ride Carly: aw now youve got me 😳 Ali: rude, my postman is not Carly: 🚫💌 then baby Carly: ill text u instead Ali: so grumpy, don't stick your hand right into our house if you don't wanna get bitten, sir Ali: not by me, whatever Ronan has said Ali: though I'm well flattered I'm getting a text back Carly: ha its k its not that u use too much teeth Carly: & course ur my hero Carly: tho 🤞🙏🌠 wont b an sos every time Ali: good, can't have him putting you off with blatant lies Ali: it won't be if I do a better job at the heroics and get there before any bad shit can happen Carly: its k i like it Carly: helps me remember what i did Carly: 💔😢 no lads r spelling their names out in bruises for the who Carly: 🐇🐾🐇🐾🐇 Carly: nooo theres no better u could do Carly: ur flying to me faster than anyone has ever ever Ali: amateurs, like Ali: so rude, ain't they heard you're 👸 Ali: I'm basically there now, prepare for the best tea party you've ever been to Carly: aint wat theyve heard but idc Carly: yay 💙 i havent had 1 since me & my 🧸🧸🧸 Ali: I'll be 🎶🔊 it so get in the know lads Ali: awh, can I meet them too? Carly: not too 🔊 or ur gf will bite me which could b fun but im not trying to do u like 💔😢 Carly: some r shyer than others but if u work ur 🔮 how u did for me ull make friends Ali: fill your boots, babe, I don't reckon she's your type, like Ali: I'll be on my best behaviour 🤞 Ali: the loveliest guest you've ever had 🤞🤞 Carly: be fun though Carly: not boring Ali: 😲😲 Ali: Is that the impression I give off? Ali: or another Ronan tale, either way Ali: gonna have to prove otherwise now in the most extra ways imaginable Carly: nahhh Carly: he don't lie to me its his 1 saving grace Carly: its just like a pls Carly: to u & the universe Ali: I won't be boring Ali: trust me Carly: k Carly: i do ur a lifesaver Ali: nah Ali: just happy to help Carly: im happy we r mates Ali: me too Ali: idk why we weren't before, like Ali: too many people at school Carly: & i dont go much ha Ali: this is true Ali: lesser spotted walsh 🐦 Carly: oooh wat colours am i Ali: 💗💜💛🧡💗 Carly: cute Ali: very Carly: wats ur fave colour? Ali: It's a harder question than people reckon, that Ali: like, there's so many beautiful things of every colour Ali: if I can decide for the day, I feel like I'm doing a disservice to all the others Carly: sorry Carly: i havent decided on mine either Carly: when i was a lil kid it was 💛 for the 🌞 then wen i started goin out it was silver for wat i thought the 🌚 looked like Carly: but ive seen so many new colours since Ali: kids always know Ali: they're much smarter than adults about everything Carly: i bet ur lil bro is the smartest Carly: like u Ali: he likes red for 🚨❌🛑⛔️🚫💯‼️🥊🥤 Ali: and I see the appeal Carly: does he like 🍎? i kno somewhere that sells the reddest shiniest 1s Carly: or we cud just throw 🍅s Ali: he's at the anti-fruit stage Ali: but I reckon he could be convinced if we let him smother 'em in caramel and sprinkles Carly: its a date Ali: Me first

[n0-eyedtaissa]

Me and You in Time (FP Jones x OC)

Description: SAT season has come and gone, and Ruthie has been thinking about the future now more than ever. FP has a plan to make sure he’s in her future. 

Word Count: 2,771

A/N: Tagging my fave, @hugharekillianmesweetghoul bc they encouraged me to post!

“Hey Jones?” Ruthie’s voice cuts through the stalemate silence that could only be brought on by the night shift. “What do you want most in this world?”

She’d been reading in the corner for the last twenty minutes or so, told FP that she just needed to rest her feet for a sec but would be back up in a few minutes. He would usually tease her about how she left him for dead over on dish duty, but she was too engrossed with whatever book she’d been burying her nose in all night that he figured it would be a shame to bother her. His reason wasn’t selfless, though. He liked to look at her, watch her warm brown eyes travel over the pages and her lips purse in concentration as she tried to process what her eyes were seeing. Her eyebrows were furrowed and a curl was loose from her ponytail that framed her face in a pretty, tired way. 

“Getting a little heavy tonight ain’t we, Ruthless?” FP chuckled, grabbing the push-broom just so he had something to do with his hands. 

“This book’s got me thinking, that’s all…” She recoils a little, shaking her head with a sad kind of smirk. She tucks a pack of sugar between the pages to mark her place and holds the novel up so FP can examine it. He hadn’t heard of the author, but Ruthie didn’t expect him to. 

“So tell me,” FP grabs a rag from his back pocket and tosses it over his shoulder, propping himself up against booth sixteen with his arm. “What does Ruthless want most in this world?” He smiles at her coyly, raising his eyebrows insistently. He was listening.

She puffed a breath of air from between her lips, “I honestly don’t even know where to begin,” Ruthie smiled widely and FP sat down in the booth, folding his hands like an expectant child waiting for their teacher. “I want a house. A big one; where me and Sweet Pea can have our own rooms and our own bathrooms, and we can have a guest room for all of the people we won’t have spend the night. And I want kitchen with double sinks and a living room with a fuckin’ gramophone, and lavender plants outside” There’s a dreamy far-off look in her eyes and it gives FP a chest-pang of a feeling he can’t exactly identify.

“And I’m gonna be a doctor instead of an RN and I’m gonna make enough money to send Pea to college full-time. Wherever he wants to go — anywhere but here though” Ruthie paused and for a second theres a scared look on her face. “But we all know that once Sweet Pea’s outta my house I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ shit and not know what to do with myself,” Ruthie reaches a hand up to quickly move the flyaway hairs out of her face, to give herself a moment not to have to talk. 

“You’re gonna get all those things, Ruth. You’re smart as a whip and you’re charming to boot; and sometimes you can get pretty far in this world on charm alone” FP winked “And Sweet Pea’s a good kid at heart. He’s growin’ up to be a damn good man, and that’s all because of you. Wherever he goes, no matter how far, you can rest easy knowing that he’s making decent choices,” Ruthie sent a funny look at FP, “Hey I said decent choices, not good or bad!”

The pair laughed and Ruthie sets her book aside in order to stand up and slither out of the booth. She grabbed the two hefty bags filled with trash that FP had set aside, pops out the back door to throw them in the dumpster out back, then returns inside wiping her hands on her apron. Two pumps of Purell later she’s wiping down the menus while FP is flipping bacon for a late-night straggler. The two don’t reconvene for a little while, but when they do the conversation kept going from before: 

“Is that how you’re gettin’ ready for Jug to graduate? Resting easy knowing that he’s making decent choices?” Ruthie is part joking and part serious, FP knows it, can hear it in the waiver of her tone. 

He runs a hand over the scruff of his five o-clock shadow, not quite sure he knew how to answer. “Something like that, maybe. But Jug’s always been ready to get the hell away from here and I can’t blame him…hell, I’m probably one of the thing pushing him outta here, so maybe I’m just used to the thought of my boy leaving.”

FP laughs sadly and Ruthie gets up, has enough courage to place her hand on his shoulder and squeeze gingerly. He looks up at the younger woman and smiles at her. It’s shy and careful — things he hasn’t been since his teenage years. 

“How’d the SAT’s go? Is Jug feeling good about his score?” Ruthie pops behind the restaurant counter and grabs two clean porcelain mugs just cleaned from the dishwater. She sets one in front of FP and pours each of them a mug of hot burnt coffee.

“REALLY good, he says. The top percentile, or somethin’. The way he writes, I know he’s gonna have no trouble getting himself into a good school”

Ruthie picks up the steaming mug in her cold hands and relishes in the warmth as she picks it up and raises it, gesturing for the man across from her to pick up his coffee as well. “To Jug” She says with a genuine smile as she clinks her cup with his.

“What about Sweet Pea, huh? How’d he do?” FP sipped his coffee black, waving a quiet thank-you to the customer who just paid for his plate of bacon and eggs. 

Ruthie winced; it’d been a sensitive subject around the house for a bit now. “We’re gonna have to retake it in the fall. He aced the math portion but needs a little bit of help with the written” She shrugs it off casually, towing her coffee with her as she balanced the customer’s empty plate in the crook of her elbow and collected the handful of crumpled dollar bills on the table. Walking up to FP she folds the wad in half and slips the tip money in the pocket of his apron. 

           “Nothing wrong with that, he’ll figure it out. That’s what retests are for anyways” His tone was reassuring and Ruthie found herself nodding her head along with what he says, believing him a little too easily than she wished she would.

           The bell by the door chimes and a trio of kids about Sweet Pea’s age stumble in. Their bloodshot eyes glazed over as they slide into a booth and start zoning out on the menu. Smelling like smoke and beer, Ruthie laughed as the three tried their best to act like they weren’t as stoned as they were. 

“Not it!” She whisper-shouts to FP, running into the kitchen to start warming up the grill. He scoffs under his breath and begrudgingly picks up his notepad and pen, and can’t help but drag his feet all the way to the corner booth. 

FP exchanged drowsy pleasantries with the teens, wrote down their order ( a combination of fat, carbs, and dairy that made FP think wistfully about his metabolism when he was their age), before heading to fill drink orders. 

He hadn’t realized what time it was and he was surprised to see the three kids after checking the time illuminated on the white-blue clock. 3:26 a.m. “It’s pretty late, isn’t it? Where you kids coming from?” Despite FP’s rough exterior, he was a father at heart so he couldn’t help asking. 

The teens at the table were silent for a moment before one of the two girls crack a joke. “Nowhere” the quieter of the two girls replies, as if it were that simple. She had blunt-cut bangs, a splay of freckles over her face, and an aura about her that FP couldn’t figure out. But she smiled and the trio thanked FP for their food and started eating silently. They pay with cash and struggle with the math for a moment, but they quietly thank Ruthie as she’s sweeping the tiled floor behind them.

“What’d you say after you clean up those dishes I make us up something to eat?” Ruthie nudges FP with her shoulder as he sets the empty plates in the industrial-sized sink. 

The man nods at her; it’s tired and Ruthie can tell that he’s not sleeping well so he’s grumpy, but she can tell that he’s appreciative. FP hangs his head as he washes and Ruthie finds herself being compelled to grab a clean kitchen towel in order to dry. She picks up the ceramic plate before he can set it on the counter and wipes the stained rag carefully over the wet surface.

She can’t see it but FP is smiling.

“You know you’re real good to me, Ruth” 

“And don’t you forget it for a minute!” She throws the damp towel aside and heads to the walk-in fridge to grab an armful of ingredients to start cooking. Ruthie doesn’t have to ask the man wants to eat for his too-early breakfast; this had been a routine for a long time now.

FP flips the sign on the door over, ‘closed for now, come back soon!’. It was officially unofficial, and if Pop Tate found out that the two of them were closing early their asses would be grass, but it was always worth the risk. Ruthie comes out of the kitchen with two plates piled high with baked biscuits and white gravy and sets them across from each other in one of the booths. 

“Saving the day again!” FP’s tone is relieved as he slides in across from the woman. They both pick up their forks and revel in the silence. Ruthie’s eyes must’ve been bigger than her stomach because soon she’s hit the wall, unable to eat another bite and FP notices. His eyes plead with her and it makes Ruthie giggle but she slides her half-eaten plate over to him anyways. FP accepts it graciously and digs in, with biscuit crumbs stuck in his facial hair. 

“You got a little…” Ruthie gestures with a delirious laugh and FP brushes himself off, heat raising to his cheeks as he blushed like a school-boy. The woman leans her aching back against the stiff back cushion of the restaurant booth and the entirety of her spine rings out with a dissatisfying crunch.

FP’s eye’s widen in surprise, but Ruthie laughs it off as a regular occurrence, “You should hear it when I wake up first thing in the morning.”

“That’s it, you’re off your feet until shift’s over!” He wags his finger at her and Ruthie can’t help but laugh, not used to the image of being parented, nor was she used to seeing FP’s paternal instincts in play. He got up from the table swiftly and snatched his plates and Ruthie’s before she could protest. 

She watches him from the kitchen. Notices how his back muscles ebb and flow under the starchy white material of his button-up shirt as he washed up the dishes. Traced his silhouette with her eyes in order to take in all of the detail. 

“You’re pretty shaken up about this whole SAT thing, aren’t you?” It’s the question that FP was working up the courage to ask all night. The way Ruthie looks up at him confirms his suspicions.

Graduation had been coming up faster than Ruthie could prepare for, and if Sweet Pea was already taking his SATs it meant that he was halfway there. She’d been splitting her paychecks for years now: half goes towards bills, the other goes toward Sweet Pea’s college fund. Work was second nature to her after having to take care of herself and her brother for the last ten years…but was she spending too much time working when she could be spending time with her brother before he had to go to college? Ruthie had been feeling adrift for a long time now, much longer than she would like to admit. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself when he’s gone,” Ruthie’s voice falters and she wills it not to break. 

“Ruth, you’re gonna get to do anything you wanna do!” FP made it sound so easy. “Everything you wanted to do but couldn’t, shit you couldn’t afford to do before. You need to focus on yourself now, Ruthless.”

The woman let out a throaty groan as she reached for her hair tie to unleash her thick curls. Ruthie’s head is in her hands, she’s thinking and running her fingers through her hair. “But what do I wanna do? Like, what kind of shit do these quote-unquote ‘normal’ twenty-five year olds even like?” 

FP ponders the question as he’s sliding back into his seat across from Ruthie in their booth. “I dunno, travel? Start a podcast?” 

Ruthie chucks a crumpled-up straw wrapper at the man, “The fact that you even know what a podcast is…” FP pushes her knee under the table. 

“You still got a bit of time before graduation, Ruth. Use it wisely. I didn’t and now my boy’s trying to move as far away from me as possible…” FP was running his worn fingers over an etching that someone made in the table. Quickly, as if it was instinctual, Ruthie slides her hand over the table and carefully interlocks her fingers with his.

“I’m gonna have so much time on my hands that I’m not gonna know what to do with myself, honestly…” 

“You gotta learn how to rest, Ruth…and take time for yourself. Because there’s a lot of people here that are counting on you bein’ around for a long time.” He runs his thumb over and over the top of her hand and is taken aback by how soft her skin is. He notices the ways that their fingers fit so well together. And remembers how she always knew exactly what FP was hungry for before he could even say it. He thought about Ruthie and the way she knew exactly how to push all of his buttons, about how she knew him like the back of his hand. This made him excited: for time and all of the nights when it stopped, for all the moments that could happen in the time coming. 

“You know, I’m also gonna have a lot of spare time on my hands pretty soon.” FP leaned back in the booth and sent a smirk across the table. 

“Well how ‘bout that” She catches onto his game quickly and decides it’s in her best interest to play along. 

“Yeah, well, with Jug getting ready for college and all. And Sweet Pea’ll be headin’ to school eventually ” FP shrugged noncommittally. “What’re we gonna do without those guys around, huh? Get a third job?” He winks at Ruthie and she laughs. 

“So what do you suggest that we both do with all of this time, Forsythe?” The curly-haired woman knows what he’s after but she wants to hear him say it. 

“What do you think about keeping each other company? Me and you?” Ruthie doesn’t answer right away and for a moment FP wonders if this was the time he went too far

She nods her head and she smiles, then she nods her head again.

“Okay, I’m in.” The certainty in her tone is enough to make FP’s heart swell. 

“So maybe we can do dinner together, make it a weekly thing.” It is in this moment that FP realized that he is still holding Ruthie’s delicate hand. 

“Just dinner?” Ruthie chimes in and he laughs at her pushiness, knowing that she was trying to sweeten the deal. FP smiles, all teeth, the true kind of smile. 

“What about movies — you like movies?” The question is awkward and hopeful, but so were the two of them. 

Ruthie pretends to think hard for a moment, furrowing her brow real hard, “Yeah, I like movies,” She laughs. “Me and you, dinner and movies, a weekly thing?”  

FP nods. “Me and you” 

She feels the need to say it back to him again; to cement things, to make sure he’s fully aware of what she means. “Me and you” 

[lucelockwood]

Thank you for turning on anon! Since you’re taking requests, can I ask for ‘When they’re sick’, please? (Maybe some angst if you want to put some on there.) I wanted to read a good sickfic since I’m currently sick. I love your work, so thank you so much for taking requests! ♥︎

Anonymous said to lucelockwood:

A locklye prompt where one of them is very ill and the other is taking care of them, please? Legit all i need in life rn

Anonymous said to lucelockwood:

Can you write one for when they’re sick? :0

I went fluffy rather than angsty, mostly because the ficlet I’m currently working on could loosely fit this prompt and has more of the angst to it. Plus I’m…kinda a sucker for fluff…it’s pretty bad, friends

To all three of you gorgeous anons: I love you. Hope this satisfies!

After three days spent trying to convince Lockwood that he’ssick and needs a break, Lucy finds him sitting at his desk with his head in hishands.

Shaking her head, she walks up to his desk, completely donewith his stubbornness. “Lockwood?” she asks as she approaches, eyeing himcarefully. Even from here he does not look good.

“I’m fine, Luce,”he says, for maybe the hundredth time that week. “Just got a little dizzy isall.” He looks up at her with glassy eyes and flushed skin, his smilehalf-hearted.

Alarmed, Lucy reaches out and pushes his forelock out of theway to test his temperature. His skin is so hot that she feels the heatradiating off of him before she even presses the back of her hand to hisforehead. “Fine?” she asks incredulously. “You’ve got a real fever now,Lockwood. Like I’ve been saying for days, you’re sick.”

“Hardly,” he protests, but Lucy isn’t putting up with thisanymore. She takes him firmly by the upper arm and hoists him out of his chair.When he sways on the spot and nearly tips over, she pulls his arm around hershoulders and wraps her free arm securely around his waist. She can feel theburning heat of his skin, even through his clothes.

“Come on, Lockwood, come with me.” She tries to keep hervoice stern, expecting the same protests and excuses he’s made all week, butthey don’t come.

“Anywhere,” he says instead, at which point Lucy decidesthat he’s moved straight on to delirious. With  more worry than she’d care to admit, Lucyleads him around his desk.

“I can’t believe you let yourself get this ill,” shegrumbles, her words coming out sharper than she intends. “None of this wouldhappen if you would just listen. To. Me.”She continues in the same vein under her breath, disguising her concern withirritation as she guides Lockwood through the office and up the spiralstaircase into the kitchen where George is finishing breakfast.

“You’re deputy today,” she tells him. It’s more of a grunt,really, as Lockwood is mostly dead weight in his delirium.

“I’m deputy every day,” George counters, eyeing Lockwood witha sharp eye. “He looks like death.”

. “Our fearless leader has earned himself a fever.”

“Keep his germs away from my waffles, eh Luce?”

“You’re both fussing,” Lockwood protests. Lucy has to catchhim as he tries to pull away from her and nearly tips over in the process. “I’mokay, I promise.”

“No, you’re not,” George and Lucy say in unison, drowningout his protests.

“I’m putting him back to bed and making sure he stays put,” shetells George, moving Lockwood towards the door of the kitchen. “I’ll beupstairs if you need anything.”

“We’ve got a client meeting at eleven-thirty,” George remindsher as he turns his attention back to his breakfast.

“You can handle it, Deputy Cubbins,” Lucy calls back, tuningout his grumbling as she helps Lockwood up the second flight of stairs.

“I just need a nap,” Lockwood’s saying. “Half an hour and I’llbe sorted, Luce. No need to make George meet the client alone.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “You’re not leaving your bed againtoday, maybe even longer. Besides, George isn’t alone. He’s got Kipps and Holly.”

“Not the most reassuring thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Yeah, well, they’ll do a sight better than you, right now.I’m not even certain you know your own name half the time.”

Lucy pushes the door to Lockwood’s room open and leads himin. For all his protests, Lockwood does not hesitate to collapse face down ontohis bed with a groan. After a slight pause, Lucy kneels at the end of themattress and starts tugging his shoes off.

“You don’t have to do that Lucy,” Lockwood murmurs, thoughhe makes no move to stop her, or to do the thing himself, so Lucy ignores him,dropping his shoes at the foot of his bed one by one. Then, hands on her hipsand chewing on her lower lip, she tries to decide what needs to be done next.

It brings up a world of issues that she knows neither ofthem is really ready to deal with, but there is no doubt that he would be morecomfortable in his pajamas instead of a suit that’s slightly too tight. Feelinga little warm herself and ignoring it, Lucy moves around the bed to crouch infront of his face.

“Lockwood?”

He hums but doesn’t open his eyes until she brushes thatforelock away from his too-hot forehead again. His dark eyes are still asglassy as ever, but they fix on her steadily.

“Do you want to change into your pajamas?”

“Am I ever leaving this room again?” he asks, resigned.

Lucy’s lips twitch as she tries not to smile at him, herfingers still running along his hairline. “Not for the foreseeable future, no.”

Lockwood sighs heavily. “Then yes.”

When he doesn’t move, Lucy steels herself and tries again. “Lockwood.”

Another hum.

“Do you need me to help you?”

“With what again?”

Good grief. Lucy’sheart rate has probably tripled at this point, but his discomfort matters morethan her own. “Do you need my help getting into your pajamas?”

There’s a delayed moment in which she can see him processingher question, and then he’s struggling to push himself upright again. “Ah, no,no, Luce, I, uh, I’ll be just fine.”

Face easily as red as his, Lucy helps him sit up. She takesa moment to turn down the covers while he moves slowly over to the armoire,then heads straight for the door, not once looking his way. “When I come backyou’d better be in bed,” she tells him before shutting the door firmly behindher.

Lucy stands in the hall breathing deeply in an effort tocalm her rapidly beating heart—this is notthe time—before heading back to the kitchen.

Collecting a pitcher of cold water and an empty glass, Lucy detoursto the bathroom on the way back in search of a few clean washcloths. Her arms arefull by the time she makes it back to Lockwood’s door, which she knocks ontwice with the back of her least encumbered hand.

She finds him sitting in his pajamas on the edge of his bed,eyes closed, still swaying a little.

“I think you might be right about this, Luce,” he says as shesets her armload on the night stand and starts filling the cup with water. “Idon’t feel very good at all.”

“Just think how much better you’d feel if you’d listened tome three days ago and rested then,” she says, handing him the glass of waterwith firm instructions to drink.

“I know better than to ignore you,” he agrees, drinking thewater in three gulps and handing her the empty glass.

Lucy’s filling an empty bowl with water from the pitcher, soakinga washcloth and wringing it out again as she talks. “You should, by now, andyet you still do.”

“Not often. Not really.” Visibly shivering despite his hightemperature, Lockwood curls up under the covers.

He looks so miserable that Lucy lets her irritation take aback seat for a moment. She tucks the covers around him, then brings his mother’safghan from the chair in the corner and lays that over him as well. She takesthe cool washcloth and lays it across his forehead in the hopes of helpingbring his temperature down.

Lockwood catches her hand as she finishes, his fingers hoton hers. “Are you going to leave?”

“Someone needs to make sure you stay in bed,” she tells him.

Lockwood hums, tucking her hand between his cheek and thepillow so that her palm is cupping his face, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Ilike it better when you’re here.”

Lucy feels her face heating up again. She doesn’t respondright away; she’s not completely sure of what to say.

“Everything isbetter when you’re here,” Lockwood continues, and she knows they aren’t justtalking about whether or not she’s going to keep him company while he sleeps.

She also knows he likely wouldn’t be saying any of this ifhe weren’t so feverish.

Lucy brushes her thumb along his cheekbone. “I’ll stay,” shepromises softly, thinking of months and years and possibly a whole lifetimespent together. “But you do have to let me go get that chair first,” she addswhen she moves to pull away and his fingers tighten on hers.

He lets her go, and watches as she rearranges his furnitureso that the chair sits right next to the bed and the nightstand with the wateris set on the other side of the chair so she can reach it easily. Then withanother promise to come right back, Lucy runs up to her room and grabs an extrablanket and her sketchbook—she’ll need something to do to pass the time otherthan watch Lockwood sleep.

His eyes are closed when she settles herself at last in thechair next to his bed, the extra blanket draped over her knees and sketchbookin her lap, but that doesn’t stop him from immediately reaching for her hand,or from pulling it closer to him, so close that she can feel his breath fanningacross her fingers.

“So much better with you here,” he says again, his voice growingdistant.

Lucy smiles and squeezes his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[sejunsneezing]

Cough Syrup Confession

ok tumblr is being really fussy rn I am having technical difficulties bUT HERE IS SOME HANSE FLUFF inspired by a prompt i found here

As your latest coughing fit ebbs into the awkward silence of the lecture hall, tears of neither misery nor glee leak from the corners of your eyes. You catch Heochan, a sassy but seemingly reserved student, arching his eyebrow at you from your peripheral vision, but frankly, you find it exceedingly difficult to truly give a damn. You were sick, inundated with a vicious head cold, but you were smart enough to acknowledge the fact that missing one day of this chemistry class could prove detrimental. So, before you left your house this morning, you allowed yourself a pep talk, a coughing fit, and several travel-sized tissue packets. You would be formally released from this dull prison at 2:45, but you had exiled yourself to the back of the lecture hall--for the sake of your teacher, your peers, and yourself--and even squinting through your glasses did not aid in deciphering the digital clock next to the chalkboard. You knew Heochan was a morning person through and through, but he undoubtedly reached an energy slump during midday. Avoiding possible hostility, you turn to your left instead, to Lim Sejun, whose eyes perpetually sparkled with kindness. “What time is it?” Your voice is a low, crooked whisper. Except Sejun is incapable of answering your inquiry because his chin has drooped to his chest and his eyes are shut tightly, breath even and deep. Your face burns in lukewarm embarrassment. Well, that was awkward, you think to yourself. The class seems to pass indefinitely and you can’t keep track of the passing minutes between the vague throbbing in your head and the way your nose tickles when a sneeze threatens to crack through the teacher’s droning. When class grinds to a halt and concludes for the day, you think you might cry, but you’re not sure whether it’s because you feel relieved or because your throat burns. Sniffling, you shove your notebook and pens into your bag. “Y/N?” Heochan’s subtle, smooth voice makes you squeak in surprise. You glance up at him with wide eyes. “Yes?” “Promise me you’ll go to the doctor’s office if you don’t get better soon?” After blinking in awe at his concern, you nod, almost shyly. “I will. Thank you, Chan.” The pair of you plod down the stairs and down the hall together, pleasant small talk and empathetic complaints easily filling the space for conversation. November air nips at your cheeks as Heochan, ever the gentleman, holds the door open for you. The leaves have withered, leaving tree branches naked or ablaze with rich scarlets and maroons. “Cold.” You mutter, pulling your hood up and stuffing your hands in your coat pocket. “Are you going to be alright getting home?” Chan’s eyebrows arch in concern, eyes soft. The late autumn breeze ruffles his hair fantastically and it was no wonder your classmates fawned over him--the boy was ethereal. “I’m an adult, Heochan,” You say firmly. “I’m gonna pick up some medicine and then lunch and head home to rest.” “Allow me to be a concerned friend, okay? You haven’t even taken any medicine yet, but you’re half-delirious.” He chides playfully. “HEOCHAAAANIE!” A sweet voice bellows from somewhere behind you and despite your slightly disoriented, ill state, you can’t miss the flicker of mischief in Chan’s eyes as he looks over your shoulder. “Hello, Hanse,” He greets his friend calmly. “Hey,” Hanse’s breathless voice responds. “You don’t have plans tomorrow, yeah? Do you want to hang with the boys and I tonight?” You stiffen instinctively, refusing to turn around. You were sick, but you were not dumb. “Sejun was knocked out in class, are you sure he’ll make it?” Hanse snorts and my heart leaps. “If there’s food, he’ll be there.” Heochan shifts his gaze to me and his smile is unsettling. “Hanse, you know Y/N, don’t you?” Your eyes widen in trepidation. You can’t see it, but Hanse flushes a brilliant pink. 

“Y-yeah, she’s always tutoring in the library.” Heochan arches an eyebrow, goading you. You turn around and grin sheepishly at Hanse. “Um. Hi.” His expression mirrors yours. “Hi.” “Hanse, dear?” Heochan inquires. “H-huh?” “Would you do me a favor?” “Probably.” “Our dear Y/N is feeling ill, would you mind driving her home?” The blood rushes to your head and you practically jump in surprise. “What? No! I’m fine!” You squeak, flustered, looking between the boys in a daze. Hanse’s gaze, dark and shy, flits to you for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind.” His tone is quiet. Heochan grins. “Brilliant. But first, she needs to pick up cough syrup and lunch, okay?” You fight the whine rising in your throat and glare at Heochan, exasperated. Your blossoming crush on Hanse was quiet and unsuspecting between shy smiles and sweet small talk--at least, that’s what you’d believed until now. “My car is...down there. I’ll go get it so you don’t have to walk.” Hanse’s ears are tinted pink. “Wait, you don’t-” “Y/N, my friend, just let Hanse take care of you.” Chan grins and pats your head endearingly. Slightly distressed and slightly enthralled, you nod complacently. “Good. I’ll see you around, feel better!” Chan scampers off in elation, leaving you with the wicked wind and blushing cheeks. The silence in Hanse’s warm car is only mildly awkward. You think Chance is playing through the speakers but you can’t hear much above the blood rushing to your head as Hanse leans over to fix your jammed seat belt. Your posture is stiff because he radiates warmth and smells like mint and you would really like to melt against him. “Sorry about this.” He laughs breathily. A nonsensical noise resonates at the back of your throat. With one solid yank, the seat belt loosens up and Hanse takes the liberty of clicking it in place. You exhale sharply and murmur, “Thank you,” shyly. He shakes his head and adjusts the rearview mirror, smiling quietly to himself. “No problem at all.” You make a pitstop at the local drugstore and Hanse calls a takeout place nearby while waiting in the car. Standing in line, fiddling with the plastic wrapping on the bottle of cough syrup, you mull over how natural it was when Hanse asked you for your order and how lovely it was when he laughed and admitted that reliable tomato soup and grilled cheese were his favorites, too. “You good?” He asks as you clamber back into the car. You nod and smile and it's so cute that Hanse nearly chokes on air. “Do you mind?” You wiggle the bottle of cherry flavored cough syrup around timidly. Hanse’s eyes widen and he nods enthusiastically. “O-of course not, Y/N!” The way your name rolls off his lips sounds delicious in your mildly delirious state. You hum happily and rip off the plastic cover. The taste is less than pleasant and you wrinkle your nose in distaste. Paused at a stoplight, Hanse’s gaze is warm and he can't stop the breathy, “cute,” that leaves his lips. Your eyes flicker up to him in surprise, a blush blossoming across your cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “S-sorry, I just...uh….you-” You shake your head dismissively, smiling shyly. “It's...okay.” “Okay.” Plagued by traffic, the next few minutes pass between breathless laughter and when you two finally pull into the restaurant’s lot, your eyelids are growing heavy. A tiny voice at the back of your head mutters oh no but you only offer an “mhm,” when Hanse says he's going to pick up the food. When he returns, you have absolutely knocked out. “Oh no.” He nearly whimpers. He settles the bag of food in the backseat and gingerly closes the door. Your lips are parted, breathing even, and cheeks flushed with a sweet, rosy tint. Barely a decibel above silence, “Hanse…” “Oh no,” He repeats. Stiffly, he tugs on his seatbelt, eyes wide and breathing uneven. Glancing at you once more, Hanse shakes his head dismissively and wonders why you insist on looking so adorable, even when you’re sick and dead asleep. He can’t decide whether he’s disappointed or relieved when he pulls into your driveway and you haven’t spoken another word since you breathed his name earlier. Grimacing at the steering wheel, Hanse debates with himself before gently releasing your seat belt. “AH!” He squeaks when you slump over, hitting your head on the window. You remain unconscious. His face burns as he leans over to adjust your possibly hazardous position before he hops out of the car and walks to the passenger side door. He opens it carefully and hesitantly taps your shoulder. Nothing. “Um, Y/N? We’re here?” He shakes you a bit more firmly this time, warm palm against your forearm. His effort is wasted. Hanse exhales deeply, instinctively reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. In a nearly whiny voice, “Why do you torment me like this?” Your eyes flutter open, glazed with drowsiness. “Hanse?” You smile softly, eyes half-lidded. “Yes?” “You’re hot.” With that, you slump over again and he yelps as he leans forward to catch you. Getting you into your house is quite the adventure because you cling to Hanse’s arm and whine while he struggles to unlock the door and help you remove your jacket and sneakers. When he finally succeeds, you lean against him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He resembles a cherry. “Hanse?” “Can I call you Bashful?” “LIKE THE DWARF?” “Yes, you’re cute,” You tell him, “and blushing like a cherry. But that is okay because I like cherries. And I like you. And I will regret this in a few hours probably but that’s also okay because we both know this was bound to happen.” Hanse purses his lips and nods, entertaining your claim. “I guess you’re right.” You blink up at him for several moments. “I’m going to kiss you.” “You-WHAT?” You gingerly press your warm lips to his chin and he shudders. His lips quirk up into a sugary smile and he boops your nose. “I’m grateful for the cough syrup.” “I’m grateful for your existence.” “You want me to melt and die, don’t you?” “Enjoy the missing filter while you can. Can we eat lunch?” “Yes, if I can call you Sneezy.”