#turning off the rb’s for this I’m scared….

[favonius-captain]

𖤐 * ∿  SOMEONE TO HOLD

𖥻 SUMMARY

pt 2 of before you go

𖥻 CHARACTERS

diluc, kaeya, albedo & gn! reader

𖥻 GENRE & WARNINGS

hurt/comfort, alcohol

𖥻 LINKS

masterlist

𖥻 NOTES

please like and rb if you enjoyed ! 

𖥻 ALBEDO

it’s been six months since you left mondstadt, and albedo doesn’t let himself stop and think

he buries himself further in his work, ironically enough. because every time he pauses, every time he lets his mind drift to you, he feels something twist in his chest

and he thinks he’s doing fine. when he’s working, he’s okay

still, he sometimes finds himself looking over his shoulder to find you — expecting you to be sitting next in the stool that he had always reserved for you. only to remember that you’re no longer there

still, he keeps the stool there. a reminder, and a hope

he sometimes finds the small trinkets you’ve left behind for him — the bracelets you’ve made

he finds little sticky notes that you used to stick around his lab with little reminders of make sure to eat :) and love you 

and every time, his heart constricts

but the worst is when he stops and rests, and he’s alone in his bed, wondering how he thought this would last forever

when you used to talk about going to liyue, you used to say that you and him would keep in contact through letters. but his mailbox remains empty

and it’s deserved — he knows it’s deserved, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of despair that clutches his chest

and sometimes, after a long day of work, he wants nothing more than to collapse in your arms as you hum and brush his hair out of his face for him. he wants nothing more than to just lean on you as you read, and fall asleep

but the lights to the house are always off. and it’s always empty

emotion is something that albedo doesn’t express often — but sometimes when he’s left alone and he’s too tired to work anymore, he leans his back against the door and puts his head in his hands and cries

he hears of your return from sucrose — its said that you were at the tavern, saying your hellos to everyone again

he abandons his experiment in an instant

 (more under cut)

you’re sitting in the tavern, casually talking to diluc who’s manning the bar tonight. your back is turned to him, as you sip your drink.

 albedo swears his heart stops as he stares at you.

 at that moment, you turn to find him. whatever you were about to say, dies on your lips as you take albedo in.

 albedo wonders what you see — if you see him the same as the rest as mondstadt does. the emotionless alchemist, with not a speck of dirt on him.

 or maybe you see the way his clothing is wrinkled at the corners from the way he’s tugged at it. maybe you see how his braid is not quite the same, or the way his fingers shake in his gloves. and you must because something in your expression softens.

 “y/n.” your name slips from his lips like a plea. 

 almost in a trance, he walks up next to you. he stands, too scared to sit. there’s a boundary in a breakup, and he doesn’t want to cross it.

 even if he wants to. even if he wants to love you again. even if he wants you to know how much he loves you.

 “albedo,” you say, with a slight nod. and there’s something fake in your smile, something that makes his heart shatter.

 so, slowly, he starts taking off all the jewelry you’ve made him. from the leather bound promise ring, to the beaded necklace he’s worn. the bracelet from your anniversary. the hair ties you’ve left for him. the pendant with your initials on it.

 he places them all on the table, swallowing the feeling in his throat. 

 “i believe these are your’s,” he says, swallowing the emotion that rises in his throat. 

 you sit there, in shock. and he thinks he sees a tear but you blink it away.

 have you hurt like he has?

 (have you hurt because of him?)

 “albedo,” you whisper. and he can’t help but tense when you say his name. 

 he swallows. “i’m sorry.” he shakes his head. “sorry can’t even begin to cover it. what i did — it wasn’t right. i don’t know if you knew, and i’m sorry if i never showed it, and you must have wondered if i loved you. i do.”

 i do. present. and you notice it too. you’ve always noticed.

 and before he can even react, you’re taking him into your arms. and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you pull away only to wipe the tears from his eyes.

 “i’m so so sorry,” he whispers. “this isn’t right – you’ve moved on, but i–”

 “i love you too,” you blurt out, cutting him off. “i just – i just didn’t know if it was returned. but i love you too.”

and albedo can’t promise all his free time, but he does his best

he always invites you to sit on the stool next to him as he works, sometimes even explaining the experiment to you

he never fails to give you a good morning or good night kiss before either of you part ways for awhile

and he never forgets to lace his fingers through your’s every time he’s been away for awhile – a silent i love you and thank you

𖥻 DILUC

it’s been awhile since diluc has rolled over and held you in his arms

but he’s still used to it – seeing you next to him in the bed

he still would smile as he admired your sleeping face even if he couldn’t stay

he’d always debate if he could press a kiss to your cheek before shaking his head and thinking it’s not what you want

it’s worse now – now the other side of the bed is empty

the feeling of uncontrollable dread rises in his chest – but he pushes it down

he doesn’t have time to worry. there’s only work

and he manages to hold it together – he buries himself so deep into concentration that he manages to keep his mind off of it

you’ll be home when he is

but when he returns home the following night, the lights are off and half of your stuff is gone

and it’s then he feels like his chest is caving in – it’s then that he sits at the edge of the bed his head in his hands, wondering how he could let you go

he sits in silence, breathing getting heavier as he buries his head in his hands

but he pulls it together by the next morning – and he’s fine when he’s working. he can bury your memory under his work

but when it’s four am and he’s alone in bed, he can’t help but curl into a ball and miss the feeling of you

since you left in such a hurry, you left many things behind – and he has a box of your things in the corner, that he can’t bring himself to throw out

he wants to tell you that he has them but he can’t bring himself to face you

he’s known it’s been coming – the breakup. he knows that the relationship you had was unsustainable

but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt – it doesn’t mean that he can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt his heart shatter

he didn’t know you were in that much pain – and it makes him hate everything about himself

he still sees you around – mondstadt isn’t big, and sometimes your eyes meet but he’s always the first to break it apart

he convinces himself that it’s better this way. it has to be.

ironically, he only works more – it’s the same thing that made him lose you, but here he is, working twofold

and he’s exhausted. there’s no one to help him – no one to eat late night dinners with, no one who pulls him into bed when he’s near collapsing

his house is a memory of you – so he never stays there long. 

and as fate would have it – that’s why you two meet again

 it’s past three in the morning when he’s out on his darknight hero duties – you used to draw a line at two in the morning, one that he often overstepped, but now, there’s no one to stop him.

 he doesn’t remember the last time he turned on the lights in the winery. he never stays there long enough.

 he’s walking on the tops of the roofs, careful to be light on his feet. the street light flickers.

 clang.

 diluc jumps at the sound of a clatter – cautiously, he makes his way toward the sound. 

 fuck.

 there’s someone surrounded by two treasure hoarders – they have a dagger out, but it’s nothing that will fend against them. 

 diluc doesn’t think as he drops down from the roof, making quick work of the treasure hoarders.

 after he’s done, he turns to the person, a question of are you okay, on his lips, only to freeze.

 you.

 you’re standing there, eyes wide, dagger still clutched in your hand. and it’s his dagger – the same one he gave you. 

 “diluc,” you whisper. “diluc.”

 he can hear it – in the slur of your words. you’re drunk – or, at least, you’ve been drinking. because you stumble right after the words, and almost crash to the floor, but he catches you.

 his heart rises in his throat. he wants to swallow it down – the feeling that threatens to consume him. the longing that comes from being this close to you.

 but he can’t. it’s better for you.

 “y/n,” he murmurs. “come on. let’s get you home.”

 but you only stumble, leaning closer into him.

 fuck.

 “diluc,” you murmur, again. like a broken record on repeat. “diluc.”

 he tenses, but he slings your arm over his shoulder.

 “i missed you.” he freezes at that. “so fucking much. but you look fine. you’re always fine.”

 “you’re drunk,” he says, as he continues to walk, half dragging you with him. “don’t say something you’ll regret.”

 you don’t listen. “why were you never there?”

 he tenses again.

 “why did you always leave? why did you never tell me?” you ask. “why did you always have to go?”

 “now isn’t the time.”

 “if you don’t tell me,” you slur, “i’ll just be left wondering forever. and i’ll hate everything about myself. i thought you loved me. i did.”

 his heart constricts in his throat. “i do?”

 “then why were you never there?”

 silence. 

 and then–

 “we’ll talk about it tomorrow morning.”

 he brings you back to what used to be both of your - now just his - house, because he doesn’t know where you stay anymore

and as he tucks you in, he can’t help but feel his throat get tighter

and at that night, he buys two tickets for liyue harbor. the vacation you’ve always wanted

 he’s teetering on the edge of nervousness, as he makes breakfast for you. you haven’t woken up yet, and he can’t help but feel anxious.

 he jumps when he hears the bedroom door open, nearly flipping his pan. he tries to contain his nerves as you step out, but it evidently isn’t working.

 “diluc,” you say. you look just as embarrassed, and just as nervous as him. “uh, sorry for last night. i’ll uh – i’ll go.”

 he quickly shakes his head. “no–wait. at least have breakfast. i made waffles for you. your favorite.”

 despite it all, the sight of your slight smile still makes his heart skip a beat.

 “thanks,” you say, but there’s still the hint of awkwardness that lingers.

 you both eat in silence – he wants to ask how you’ve been, what you’re doing now. but there’s a barrier between you that he doesn’t know if he can pass – he doesn’t know what’s considered “okay.” there’s a line that he’s too terrified to treat.

 you break the silence.

 “so,” you say. “what now?”

 there. there it is.

 the question he’s been waiting for. the question he still doesn’t know the answer for.

 “i’m so sorry,” he blurts out. “for everything. for never telling you when i had to go somewhere – for always canceling. i did–i do care.”

 you sit there, blinking. “di–”

 he clears his throat. “i, uh– i got you tickets. to liyue. i got two. but you don’t have to go with me. it’s just there if you want to take someone else along. i don’t expect anything.”

 silently, you stand from your seat. and in two long steps, you cross the table and embrace him.

 he freezes, before hugging you back. it’s only then does his shoulders start shaking and he realizes he’s crying.

 “i want to try again,” you whisper. “but only if you want to, too.”

 from then on, diluc makes an effort to make time for you – he hires another helper so he won’t be doing paperwork all day. 

he’s always home for dinner, no matter what. and he makes it habit to book a trip with you ever anniversary

and although he may see like he’s over it, sometimes at night, you can feel him pull you closer saying i love you while also saying thank you and a i’m sorry.

𖥻 KAEYA

he’s handling it fine.

that’s a lie. and he knows it. but he’ll pretend that he believes it

i’m fine, he says to the bartender as he downs another drink, with his signature smirk

you used to sit next to him – you used to pour his drink, and click your glasses, before downing it

and when he was drunk with you, you were drunk together. things didn’t seem so muddled then

kaeya’s a skilled liar, a skilled pretender – and he manages to hold it together until he gets home

and your stuff is gone

and he realizes that was the final straw

the only thing that remains on your side of the room is a picture of you and him together

he scream cries in the shower the same day, his head still muddled, wondering where it went wrong

he wakes up to an empty bedside. he’s always woken up before you, and something in him aches when he can’t brush a stray hair from your forehead

weeks pass. no contact.

it’s said that you left mondstadt completely – not a trace of you left behind

he wants to beg. he wants to beg for you to come back

i’ll apologize this time. i promise. i swear.

he finds the same scarf that he gave you in his closet. you swore you’d always keep it, and it’s still hanging on his rack. taunting him

he wants to explain - he wants to be intimate

he wishes that he were good at being genuine - he wishes that being intimate didn’t immediately make him want to retract, didn’t immediately make him wonder how long it’ll last before it breaks

not long is apparently the answer

months pass, and he pretends that he’s over you. months pass, and he swears that going home to the lights off is fine

when you return to mondstadt, it takes everything in him to not walk up to you and throw his arms around you

it takes all his self restraint to not walk up to you

but you don’t look at him. once. 

he gets the message. loud and clear

so he does what he always does – he avoids you

but when your birthday comes around, he can’t pretend he doesn’t remember; so he leaves you a gift on your doorstep that remains unsigned

a year passes until it’s your anniversary again

and he throws himself into more work than he ever has, to avoid any feeling of you

ironically, that is the day you two (really) meet again

 “jean told me that you haven’t eaten or slept.”

 kaeya jerks up in his sheet. 

 you.

 it’s your voice – and when he looks up it’s you. and he swears it must be a hallucination because there’s no way you’re here – there’s no way you’re standing in front of him again.

 “y/n,” he whispers.

 you shift uncomfortably on your feet. 

 “listen, i didn’t want to do this, but jean said she couldn’t convince you to take care of yourself,” you say. but he can tell it’s a lie. he has all this knowledge of you, and only now does he need it. he sees it in the way your eyes dart to the floor. 

 he stands from his seat, before taking  step toward you like a moth drawn to the flame.

 he wonders if you see how terrible he looks – he wonders if you can still see through him like he sees through you.

 “can i–” he swallows the feeling in his throat. “can i touch you?”

 you freeze in shock, before nodding slowly.

 he pulls you into an embrace, feeling his eye tear up. 

 “i’m sorry,” he says. the words come tumbling from his lips before he can stop them. “i’m so so sorry.”

 he doesn’t expect much – he knows its been a year, and he doesn’t expect for you to feel the same.

 but when you pull him back into the embrace, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat.

 “i’m sorry too,” he hears you whisper. 

 “i’ve missed you so much.” every word in his head, every word he’s never been able to verbalize, comes falling out of his lips. 

 “i know. i’ve missed you too.” you pull away, only to wipe the tear falling from his one eye. “come on. let’s get you some food, and then you can get some rest. we can talk about it in the morning.”

 and when you try again, he makes an effort to give you everything he has

from gift giving, to surprising you at work, to skipping his nightly trip to angel’s share to try wine at home with you

but he never forgets to say i love you, because he knows his genuine words are what you need the most

[scaramoon]

he accidentally hurts you while sparring

DILUC, KAEYA, XIAO, CHILDE — gn!reader

warnings/genre: kinda hurt/comfort? idk it’s mostly fluffy, mentions of blood and (very) minor injuries, swearing in childe’s

notes: rbs are v much appreciated, please and ty !! also pls ignore that i got carried away w xiao’s </3

━━ diluc;

you’ll have to be insistent if you even want him to spar with you; he knows you’re fully capable of standing your ground but... he’s worried

he’ll act like he doesn’t, but it’s obvious that he keeps close by whenever you’re sparring with someone

but if you wear him down enough or you’re good with your words, you can convince him to be your sparring partner

lmao just tell him you’ll get kaeya to do it 💀

“don’t- don’t hold your sword like that.” he said, his tone was flat but you’d known him long enough to be able to find the concern in it.

“i know how to hold a sword, diluc,” you responded. “i asked for a partner, not a teacher, remember?”

red eyes flashed towards you and something like a smile appeared on your lover’s lips. you mirrored it, letting your lips curl into a grin.

“of course,” he said, smallest hint of a playful tone in his voice.

but he was quick, and you may have underestimated just how well trained he was. normally, you could have blocked him. this time, however, you weren’t expecting it and you’d already began to drop your dominant hand to your side.

he noticed that, but he was just a little too late. diluc was used to the momentum of his weapon, but it wasn’t often that he had to stop it. he tried to step back before he hurt you, your name falling from his lips, desperation and worry coating his voice.

and then, just as soon as he’s processed it, his claymore was on the ground and he was watching you crouch and hold your upper arm. your seethe of pain sent guilt rushing through him.

it took him a moment to decide whether or not to go over to you; he wanted to, he really wanted to, but a part of him feared that you didn’t want him near you.

he couldn’t help it though.

“y/n?” diluc’s tone was almost a command, loud but desperate, wanting you to look at him and tell him that you were perfectly fine — wanting that to be the truth.

tears pricked in the corners of your eyes but you looked at him nonetheless. he hated that look in your eyes. seeing you in pain was one thing, but the knowledge that he was the cause of it twisted his heart in unbearable ways.

“i’m ok, diluc,” you said, quieter than you normally would. “just a little scratch, see?”

you moved your hand from where it was holding onto your arm. blood coated your fingers and the clothing surrounding the new wound, but it was clear that the cut wasn’t deep.

he didn’t say anything. his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kneeled beside you. eyebrows pinned in worry and concentration evident in his eyes, he started ripping at your sleeve to get a better look.

“diluc.” you said. your voice was more commanding this time as you moved away from him. why couldn’t he see it really wasn’t so bad?

“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” this time you could see clearly just how distressed he was.

he looked like he was about to cry and he wasn’t the one that’d been hurt. not physically, anyway; you had no idea how his chest hurt, how he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

you stared at him for a little longer. “i said i’m fine. but if it will help you sleep at night, you can come help me clean it, deal?”

“of course, dove.”

━━ kaeya;

he actually likes sparring with you

he doesn’t often get the chance, but whenever both of you are able to, he sees it as time he gets to spend with you

and any time spent with you is never time wasted in his eyes

plus he gets to do the sword under your chin thing and tease you </3

“dead.” you said proudly, standing over your lover, your sword under his chin.

a playful grin spread across his lips as he let you enjoy your win. you backed away and allowed him to stand up, dust himself off. a stretch of his arms, and then he was picking up his sword to go again.

“ready?” kaeya asked, smirk stretching his lips.

“yeah,” you said, smiling back. your gloved hand tightened around your sword’s hilt; the gloves were making your hands sweaty, your grip loosening. “actually, w-”

“y/n!”

the next thing you realized was a stinging at you side. your hand immediately came to the cut, taking an instinctive step back. the sound of kaeya’s sword hitting the ground met your ears, his hands were on your arms a second later.

“hey, hey, you’re okay.” he tried to sound calm but if was a bad attempt. he crouched down onto the ground, guiding you to sit in front of him. cautious hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, kaeya looking up at you. “can I look, love?”

“yeah, but I’m fine.” you said, though your face was twisted in pain.

his eyes were full of pity when he looked at you, jaw clenching before he lifted your shirt enough to see the wound. on first appearance, it looked worse than it really was.

“see?” you spoke again. “all good.”

he didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you closer to him, chin hooked over your shoulder, though he was careful not to agitate your cut.

“not really. but it’s okay, we’re gonna get you all better, yeah?”

“kaeya, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need-”

“y/n.” his voice was still sweet and concerned, but more stern when he spoke this time. “let me take care of you.”

“...fine.”

━━ xiao;

good luck getting him to spar with you in the first place

it doesn’t matter how much you tell him you want to, he’ll keep turning you down

needless to say, you’ll have to play your cards right to get him to agree to it

“what if i hurt you, y/n?”

“i’ll be under-trained and get hurt if you don’t help me.”

“you know i’ll always be there if you call for me.”

“and if you can’t come?”

“...”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” he stated simply, eyes narrowing at you. you only threw him a smile.

“what’s the worst that can happen? you won’t even use your real pole arm, you have a stick. you can’t stab me with it, xiao.”

“I would rather not think about ‘stabbing’ you in the first place.” he huffed. “but... you need to be safe, in case one day I can’t keep you safe myself.”

a smile crossed your face as you gripped your weapon, ready for him to start.

you may have miscalculated the power and ability of an adeptus though. you quickly found yourself tired and overwhelmed, just blocking and dodging was almost too much. he could sense your fatigue already, and he was listening for you to call him to stop. xiao was ready to stop on a dime, but he knew that you were stubborn and insistent.

his “pole arm” came close to your side, and he really thought you would dodge this one. you’d done it before. but he felt the wood hit you, you falling to the ground, holding your side soon after.

his make-shift weapon was long forgotten now. he was kneeling beside you in seconds, gentle fingers running along what he was sure was a broken rib. he didn’t find one, but the guilt was already eating him and that knowledge did nothing to stop it.

“ow! that hurts, don’t touch me.” you said, seething in pain and making a pitiful attempt to move away from him.

xiao did not cry.

he didn’t, it just wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and quite honestly he wasn’t sure if adepti could cry. but the idea of you being scared of him started tears to fill his eyes; his chest was tight, and he had this uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“no, no,” you started, propping yourself on your elbows and then sitting all the way up.

you tried to reach and hold his face, to wipe the tears off, but he turned away from you; he kept kneeling, but shifted to a position a little farther away from you. the adeptus made a noise something like a squeak, and it seemed to surprise him. he didn’t wait for you to finish talking, he turned away and looked anywhere except you.

“xiao, baby, that’s not what I meant. you can- I just meant don’t put your hands directly where I got hurt... xiao? can you look at me?”

it took him a few more moments before he turned his head back to you. you knew he wasn’t always the most emotional, but you didn’t think you’d seen him like this before. he hummed, not trusting his voice. still, he wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. its just a little bruise, there’s not even blood... I’m not scared of you, xiao, it’s not your fault.”

he stared at you for another moment before he cleared his throat and stood up. “can we at least have someone make sure you’re okay?”

“yeah.”

“...and you won’t ask me to do that again?”

“of course not.”

━━ childe;

he has mixed feelings about sparring with you

of course, it’s an odd form of quality time, but he likes it

plus that means he won’t have to watch you spar with anyone else

but there’s always the risk that you could get hurt

he’s an archer though, so he only “attacks” you with his melee — he thought he was being a lot more careful

“ready?” childe smiled, twirling one of his weapons around his finger.

“as always.” you said, gripping your own weapon.

“mhm, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re ‘always ready’,” childe said dropped his hands to his sides and stepping closer to you.

you knew what he was trying to do — he attempted to pull this off every time you sparred with him, and you never failed to catch him. seem relaxed, and whenever you thought he wouldn’t, he’d attempt to get the better of you.

this time, however, you were not as quick as you usually were. childe knew that you always saw through this; not once had you’d failed to block him, so maybe he put his trust in his weapons more than he should have.

he stopped when both of you look at the clean, but bloody, cut he’d made. his eyes widened as it sinked in, coming to the realization that he’d hurt you

“y/n- shit, I’m sorry,” he said, panic clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. his hand was on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the ground. “are you- you’re okay, it’s not that deep. we’re gonna get that healed and you’ll be fine, yeah?”

for words so reassuring, his panicked tone was saying something along the lines of ‘shit shit fuck dammit, i accidentally hurt my own partner, what the fuck-’

“yeah, it’s no biggie,” you said, smiling a little at him. “it’s just a little cut, I get worse on commissions.”

you knew that later he would claim he was totally calm. in reality, he was trying his best to clean the wound with his vision, and he’d get better help whenever he could get to bubu pharmacy.

“you owe me kisses though, y’know,” you teased.

‘good,’ he thought. ‘they aren’t mad at me.’

“whatever ya want, love.”

“oh? maybe I’ll take cuddles too.”

[h0tchner]

go team hotchner!

pairing: dad!aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron is coaching jack’s soccer game & reader is in the crowd! aaron & reader are happily married, but another woman’s mean comments and blatant flirting makes the reader jealous. fluffy shenanigans ensue!

word count: 2.5k

includes: FLUFF, jack hotchner is the sweetest, you & aaron are married, jealous!reader, kissing, family planning, & AARON IN A GREY T-SHIRT

rating: 18+ (for VERY brief mentions of sex and a little smidge of cursing)

a/n: i wrote this for @ssahotchswife​’s soft hotch saturday! this is my first published fic, so i hope y’all enjoy. PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Atta boy, Jack!” Aaron yells from the side of the field, clapping his hands as his son scores another goal.

Beaming, you holler from the benches along with the crowd. You watch as your husband jogs up and down the sidelines with ease, keeping up with Jack’s soccer team. It’s a stunning Saturday morning and you are thrilled to spend every moment of it with the Hotchner boys. Your Hotchner boys.

When they asked Aaron to coach the team, how could he say no? After losing Hayley, he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to be there for Jack. When you first started dating, Aaron was hesitant to introduce you to his son. It wasn’t because he didn’t want you in Jack’s life, but rather he didn’t want to scare you away. You were a 26-year-old NCIS agent and he was a 40-something FBI agent. You knew he had a son, you knew he was a widow, and you knew he was older than you: but you didn’t care. You loved him. It took a little coaxing to get Aaron to open up to you about his fears, but once he did, you assured him then and there that you weren’t going anywhere. He introduced you to Jack the very same day. Four years later, you and Aaron are stronger than ever.

The ref blows the whistle, calling a break. Aaron motions for the kids to huddle in. He squats on the floor to get on their level, enthusiastically whispering, walking them through the next play. Your heart swells watching him talk to the group of children. Aaron Hotchner, always the hero, the role-model, the leader. Gentle yet powerful: he was intoxicating.

Your eyes dart over his crouched figure; the soft, heather grey of his t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders. You draw in a breath, a memory of last night flooding your senses, remembering how you held on to those shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the bed. You feel your cheeks blush red, and you look up to the sky, shutting your eyes to collect yourself. Damn. Even just the thought of touching him gets your blood up.

You open your eyes, letting your gaze travel back to Aaron’s body, admiring how good his butt looks in those black Adidas track pants. You bite your lip a bit, feeling overwhelmed with joy, knowing that beautiful man, inside and out, was all yours. God, what you wanted to do to...

“Damn he is HOT. Way hotter than the old coach. I think his son is on the team?” A woman’s voice rings out from behind you.

“Yeah, I think so. Did you hear what happened to his first wife? So sad, lost her when his son was little. Apparently he’s shacked up with some 20-something-year-old now.” A second woman’s voice chimes in.

“No way. Him? Married to that? He needs a real woman, not some child. A man that experienced should be with someone his own age. I’m gonna talk to him after the game, see what his deal is.” The first woman replies, voice dripping with venom.

“I think you should!” Agrees the second.

“Oh, I will. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Snickers the first.

They both laugh as you sit frozen in your seat, blinded by a wave of anger and sadness.

Some child? Someone his own age? Their hurtful words pierce right through your heart as you furiously blink back tears.

The ref blows the whistle, and the team scatters back onto the field. The ladies cheer behind you as the game starts back up. It takes all your strength not to break down under the crushing weight of their conversation. You take in some deep breaths, mulling over their comments. You weren’t “some child!” You were a grown-ass woman! You had a job! You were a federal agent! You loved Aaron and Jack: they were your whole world!

As you continue to give yourself a mental pep-talk, the hurt begins to dissipate as you realize how stupid those woman sounded. They didn’t even know you, or Aaron, or anything about your relationship. In that moment, you tell yourself that instead of wallowing in self-doubt, you would stand up to them and make it known that you were the only one for Aaron.

Just like that: you begin to feel a bit better. You focus all your attention on Aaron and Jack, letting the game fly by. You ignore the ladies gossiping behind you, and, by the time the kids are lining up to give the other team high-fives, you had pulled yourself together and come up with a plan to put these ladies right back in their place. You just had to wait for the right time to make your move.

“Wish me luck!” squeals the first woman. You can feel her getting up from the bleachers behind you.

“Go get him, girl!” sasses the second.

You watch as the woman walks down the aisle, her straight blonde ponytail swishing as she goes. She’s wearing blue-jean shorts and a white lace top: an outfit you’ve seen before on a hundred women who looked just like her. In any other circumstance you’d applaud her efforts (girls supporting girls, right?) but this was your man she had her sights on. No way. Not a chance. She wasn’t going to lay a single pink manicured finger on him.

Aaron is talking to the ref and the other team’s coach when she taps him on the shoulder.

Oh HELL no. You think, frowning.

He turns around and gives her a small, polite smile. You can’t hear the exchange, but after a few moments, she sticks out her hand to shake his, laughing. Aaron curtly returns the shake and turns back to finish up his prior conversation; but, this time, the blonde woman puts a hand on his arm again, lightly pulling him away. Your blood begins to boil. She gestures to the pack of kids, now getting drinks and snacks from the fold-up table next to the bleachers. Aaron nods, pointing over to where Jack is standing, sipping on some lemonade. She puts her hand on his arm again and tilts her head.

You decide it has been long enough. It’s go time.

You walk down the bleachers, picking up the hem of your baby blue floral sundress so you wouldn’t step on it as you descended.

The woman is still all over Aaron, clearly flirting. Aaron’s arms are crossed over his chest, lips in a terse smile. It didn’t take a profiler to know that his behaviour screamed “get me out of here.”

You fluff your hair a bit, letting it fall loosely around your face. With confidence, your feet hit the soft grass and you head towards your husband.

“Aaron!” you call out, waving and smiling as you near him, shooting daggers at the blonde woman by his side.

The moment he sees you approaching, you watch his entire demeanour change.

“Y/N!” he grins, excusing himself from the woman.

She whips around to face you with a vengeance as Aaron scoops you up, tanned arms firm around your middle. He spins you around as you laugh, surprised, looking down at him with pure elation.

He sets you down and, before you have a chance to say anything else, grabs your face in his hands, crashing his mouth into yours. You throw your arms around his neck and card your fingers in his hair, kissing him with the same fervour.

You can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It’s hot and dominating: something about winning a game makes Aaron primal and giddy. You certainly aren’t complaining.

He breaks the kiss and lets his hands fall to your waist, squeezing lightly.

“Congrats on the win, Coach Hotchner.” You smile as you brush a lock of sweaty black hair off his forehead.

“Couldn’t have done it without my favourite cheerleader, Mrs. Hotchner.” He winks, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

“Oh yeah?” You prod, cocking your head, looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes. “Who would that be?”

“Hm.” He pauses, looking up pensively.

He wraps his arms even tighter around your middle and dips his head down, whispering one word in your ear: “You.”

You laugh, swaying with him for a moment, capturing his lips in another kiss. As you pull apart, out of the corner of your eye you watch as the blonde woman stands frozen to the same spot, mouth agape. You smirk, feeling satisfied and self-assured knowing your little scheme was a success.

Then, like a rocket, you see Jack running towards you with a mile-wide grin on his flushed face.

“Y/N! Did you see? Did you see me make two goals?” Jack exclaims.

“Yeah buddy, I saw the whole thing!” You capture him in a bear hug, kissing the top of his head. You ruffle his hair and kneel down, looking into his soft brown eyes.

“I’m so proud of you. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! I love soccer!” Jack nods.

“You did a great job Jack.” Aaron says, helping you stand. He wraps an arm around your waist and looks lovingly down at his son.

“You’re our soccer superstar.” You add, glancing between Jack and Aaron with unbridled joy. “Now go! Go back to your friends!” You laugh, shooing him away, back to the group of sweaty 8-year-olds and their snacks.

You stand there with Aaron, snaking your arm around his back to match his around yours. You both watch as Jack bounds off. A quick glance to the side shows that the blonde woman is long gone, probably stomping back up to her friend to whine and call you more names.

“Is she gone?” Aaron murmurs into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

You stutter, “How... how did you?” You trail off in disbelief.

“Oh please,” he smirks, “I had to stop you from practically biting her head off when you walked over.”

“Aaron!” you yelp, mocking upset. “You should’ve let me at her.”

He chuckles, lips twitching into a smile as he quirks one eyebrow up. “I couldn’t have my wife fighting with the aunt of one of my players. It’d reflect poorly on me.”

“She called me a child. Said that you should be with someone your own age. I think that warrants a free pass.”

His joking manner stops abruptly at your declaration. “That’s ridiculous and you know it,” he furrows his brow, shaking his head lightly.

You reach up and run your fingers over his scrunched forehead, soothing the lines into something softer.

“I know,” you nod.

Aaron pulls you into his side, wordless. Fingers tracing lightly over your hip. You knew he was thinking the same thing: no matter what they said, you knew in your heart that you and Aaron were meant to be. Age be damned. He was yours and you were his: forever. Simple as that.

“Mmm,” you sigh, taking in the beauty of the moment. You smile at the clear sky, the fresh air, and the feeling of the man you loved, right by your side. You two watch Jack as he talks and laughs with the other kids. He looks so happy to be surrounded by them: a natural conversationalist. You can’t help but start to think about how he would be the best big brother in the whole world. It makes your breath hitch in your throat a bit.

“What is it?” Aaron gives your side a squeeze.

Of course he could sense when your thoughts began to wander. Aaron was a man of many talents.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You look up at him with a reassuring glance, returning the squeeze.

“Y/N...” Aaron trails off, hazel-brown eyes searing into yours.

Damn your gaze, Hotchner.

You look away, letting your arm drop from his waist and move to step away a bit: he grabs for your hand instinctively, keeping you next to him. His big hands engulf your small ones, fingers entwined.

You know he is still staring at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet. Your eyes refocus on Jack.

“I was... I was thinking,” you begin. “I love you. I love you so much, no matter what anybody else says. And I love Jack like he’s my own.”

You breathed in, prepping yourself mentally for what you were about to say next.

“Jack is so good with other kids.” You continue, “He loves being social, being a teammate.”

You gather the strength to meet your husband’s famous glare.

“And watching you coach these kids? You’re so good with them, Aaron. You make every one of them feel special. You give 110% of your heart, and I am so lucky to be your co-coach in life.” You tell him in earnest.

“Aaron,” you carry on, emboldened, “I think it’s time we added a new member to the Hotchner team” you finish, searching every inch of Aaron’s face for recognition.

You watch as he takes in the information. After a few beats, it clicks.

“Y/N,” his expression softens, “Do you want to have a baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, eyes wide and hopeful.

Aaron nearly explodes with happiness; his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you, unable to speak. And then, his warm body envelopes yours, solid but soft: unmistakably Aaron.

You let out a shaky laugh and bury your head in his neck, breathing in the smell of cologne and light sweat.

He pulls back a little, one hand tilting your chin up to look at him.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Does that mean yes?” you ask, in a small voice.

Aaron laughs again, letting out a sigh. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger on your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Yes,” he says, giddy. “Let’s have a baby.”

The sound of children laughing fills your ears as you grab the back of his head and pull Aaron into a soft kiss. The kiss is full of promise: a gentle pact, sealing the deal. You and Aaron were going to have a baby. Jack was going to have a little brother or sister.

You pull away, arms still around his neck.

“I love you, Aaron.” You breathe out.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispers back.

Nobody on this planet could shake the bond you and Aaron had. Suburban soccer moms be damned.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry stumbles across your livestream.

a/n: alright lovelies! here is my submission for bificathon hosted by my two lovely friends @bopbopstyles & @harrysclementines !! my prompt is ‘harry accidentally stumbles upon a livestream of her and her friend’ and let me tell you, I SNATCHED THIS SO QUICK! its my first time writing gxg smut, so pls be nice :’). also september is bi awareness month, so happy bi month babies! you’re so all beautiful and valid <3

enjoy 4k words of bi/camgirl!yn x roommate/best friend!harry filled with girl x girl smut/filth

come into my inbox and send feedback and let’s talk about this!

pls rb to share! <3

It was Harry’s usual Thursday night when he found himself lying in his bed with his laptop on his lap and a plate of his dinner in his hands. 

He was binge watching interior home designers on Netflix, letting out an ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ as they revealed the finished homes, practically envisioning his future home the same way. 

Thursday nights were practically the start of his weekend as he didn’t have classes on Fridays, and usually his friends and him would hang out, but he really just didn’t feel like going out nor did he have the social capacity to hang out and get drunk when he’s probably going to do that on Friday and Saturday. 

He simply just wanted a break, and that included staying inside and watching interior designers flip a house completely different, and eating his dinner. And he wasn’t ashamed that he enjoyed it. 

After a few episodes and an empty plate, Harry paused the next episode before it even started to put his plate away and grab a glass of water. As he was washing his plate, he heard the door open and close, followed by hushed giggles and whispers. 

“Shh. Harry might be asleep,” a voice said, but he knew it was you. You knew that he liked to sometimes sleep early, but he thought it was too early to be asleep, seeing as it was only eight p.m. 

“I’m actually in here,” he chuckled, making himself present with his voice. 

“Oh!” You said surprisingly, and another laugh was heard. 

You made your way to the kitchen, your guest following behind you as you saw Harry in just a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. 

“Hey, H,” you greeted. 

“Hi, love. Have fun tonight?” He asked. You had went to the bar to chill out from the many essays you had to write and exams you had to take, and Thursday nights were also a start to your weekend as well, so fuck it. 

“Yeah, I did, thanks for asking. This is Daniela, by the way,” you introduced the girl you had met at the bar. 

You had seen Daniela right when you walked in as her and her friends were sitting at the table right next to the entrance, and she immediately caught your eye. She looked right back at you, giving you some flirty eyes herself as you were dragged away by your friends and straight to the bar. 

After a few drinks and rounds of dancing with your best girlfriends, you saw Daniela walk over to the bar and order some drinks, so you decided that it was your chance to go up to her. 

You two had immediately hit it off, getting to know one another. She told you that she was a lesbian, and you proudly told her that you were bisexual. You also found out that you’re both in the same bio-chem class together, which definitely raised the excitement as she suggested studying together and you happily said yes. Then there was dancing while you two were both buzzed, completely forgetting your friends as you grinded against each other and kissed, not caring that you were practically putting on a show for everyone around you. 

And when you suggested that you took her home, she immediately said yes, and you dragged her outside as you waited for the Uber you called. 

“Nice to meet you, Daniela. I’m Harry,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand. “Her roommate and friend-”

“Best friend. C’mon, Harry, don’t put yourself lower than that,” you corrected and he smiled. 

“Alright, alright. My bad,” he laughed. 

“So, we’re gonna go to my room,” you winked him as Harry said ‘have fun’ before cleaning up a bit in the kitchen. 

He was glad that one of you was getting laid. He also noticed how happy you were, which he absolutely adored, and he thinks it has to do with the fact that you came out a year ago, and you’re now living your life to the fullest and happiest, and that’s all he wants; is for you to be happy with yourself and in general.

Harry met you at the end of freshman year of college as your friend groups met up with each other at a bar. He was a bit more shy than the rest of his friends, and didn’t immediately mingle with everyone until a few drinks in. But as you introduced yourself to his friends, you noticed him sitting down at the bar, not interacting with anyone. You were also somewhat on the quiet side, but was able to handle introducing yourself, so you completely understood why Harry acted the way he did when you two met. 

“Hey, not feeling it tonight?” You asked, taking a seat next to him. 

“Eh, not one for going up to people and initiating a conversation,” he said nervously. 

“I get that. Makes me nervous to go up to someone and talk to them, but I’m trying to get over that, so here’s me trying,” you chuckled as did he. 

“Well, we gotta drink to that then,” he said, and it took him by surprise that he was able to make a joke and laugh. 

It could have definitely been the liquid courage, but he was starting to warm up to you; joking around and becoming less tense as you two talked and drank. But that was because you were making him comfortable, to which he appreciated very much. 

Since then, you two have been by each other’s side. He told you that your friends kind of intimidated him because they were very out there, and that made you laugh slightly because it was very true, but you made sure to be by his side whenever your groups hung out. 

The group hangouts turned into one-on-one hangouts with just you and Harry. He was definitely more comfortable with you, and he really enjoyed your company and presence. 

Both of your friends had expected you two to end up together, but you two realized that you were better off as friends—who knows if you two will end up together, but for now, you were happy being best friends with him as was he. 

It was a year, the end of sophomore year, when you wanted to move out of the dorms. It wasn’t like you didn’t like your friends and roommates, but sometimes you wanted your own space and that didn’t help when there’s two other people in the same room as you. 

So Harry suggested that you both find a flat together since he was on the lookout for a flat anyways, and it’ll help him a ton with bills and whatnot. You excitedly said yes after you asked him if he was sure that he wanted to move in with you, and if he was extra sure that he wanted to since you’d be there when he would take home people. He laughed, and said that he didn’t care and wanted to live with you, saying it’ll be fun. You both had gotten quite close throughout that year and practically told each other everything, so it’ll be even better to live with someone you both trust. 

Junior year of uni, he noticed that you always came home with a sad frown on your face, briefly saying hi to him before going straight to your room and locking yourself up for hours. Harry tried figuring out why you were in such a mood all the time, and tracked his steps, seeing if he said anything wrong that made you upset. But he couldn’t figure it out as you both always had light and fun conversations during breakfast and dinner. 

And the frown went on for months until you both came back from Christmas break, and you told him that you had to tell him something very important. 

“Love, you can tell me anything, you know that right?” He said, reassuring you. 

“Yeah. It’s just…I’m nervous to,” you said, shaking your leg. Harry really wondered what happened during break that made you so anxious. He was worried that you wanted to move out and not live with him anymore, but he had to remind himself that it was probably not even about him as he told you to take your time. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he said, and you nodded, giving him a smile before you walked off to your room to gather your thoughts. 

An hour later, you came out of your room and found Harry sitting on the couch, watching a film. You sat next to him, and he immediately turned off the TV, giving you his full attention.

You took a deep breath and started, “What I was trying to say earlier was that something about me has changed, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I was still figuring it out, but I was just scared of what you would think,” you said. Harry started to get concerned, but he let you finish talking before he said anything. “So, I’ve always had an attraction towards girls, and I thought it was just me thinking a girl was pretty, but when I started to get nervous and flustered when a girl would talk to me, I realized that I really like them, and I would find myself flirting with them and longing to have something romantic with them. And then when I went back home for break, I met up with a childhood friend, and somehow…we kissed. It was so magical that it made my stomach flutter.” 

Harry had smiled softly as you told your story; knowing where this conversation was going, but of course, he stayed silent and let you talk. 

“So what I’m trying to tell you is that… I’m bi,” you had said nervously, hands shaking in your lap. You were trying to contain your tears from falling from your face as you shook your leg. 

“Love, I’m so happy for you,” he replied, opening his arms to comfort you from the anxiety you were feeling from telling him. You had softly sobbed into his shoulder, feeling the weight on your shoulders disappear as you had finally told the person you were closest to and who you trust the most. 

“R-Really?” You said as you pulled away from his hold. 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m happy that you can be whoever you want to be and I’m here to support you,” he said, holding your arms and running his hands over your skin. 

“Thank you, Harry,” you smiled at him, feeling ultimately grateful for your best friend and his acceptance. 

Harry smiled at the memory as he heard giggles through your door, and he chuckled as he finished cleaning before heading to his room. He was feeling a bit tired and despite it being a bit earlier than his usual bedtime, he decided to call it a night a try to get some sleep, deciding that he could go on a run in the morning since he was sleeping early. 

But after an hour of tossing and turning, he gave up trying to get a restful sleep, and opened his laptop to put on some Netflix, hoping it would lull him into a deep slumber. He was comfortably watching a random show until his hand grazed his crotch, and he realized he hadn’t relieved himself nor had he had sex in a while. 

So, he pushed his boxers down his legs, kicked them off the bed, and took off his shirt before he grabbed some lube and pumped his cock as it immedately hardened in his hand. He began touching himself in the darkness of his room as he quietly groaned out and threw his head back on his pillow. 

Realizing he doesn’t have some kind of visual, he stops to search up cam girl sites on the internet so he can get a mental image in his head to get him off. He finally settled on one user that was doing a live stream called ‘KISSYPLS’ as the preview was a girl going down on another with a purple ambiance to the room. The room was dark, but not dark enough where he couldn’t see the two girls. 

The sound of the moans from his laptop were quite loud and he didn’t want you to hear it all the way from your room, so he grabbed some headphones from his bedside table, plugging in his earbuds into his ears as the sounds of the girls moaned and talked dirty to each other. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” the girl that was doing the eating out said before she crawled her way up to the other’s body. 

And the slightest moment as Harry was watching, the girl on her back had shifted down a bit as they kissed, and Harry’s eyes flew wide open once he glanced. He saw the face that he wouldn’t have expected he would see. 

His roommate. His best friend. It was you. 

You were being eaten out on his computer screen by Daniela, and he was in complete shock. He honestly hadn’t expected to find you because it was just a random scroll through the site, but holy fuck. 

You hadn’t had your account for very long—maybe about three months. But you thought it was a good way to make some extra money because the bills were stacking up and they had to be paid off somehow. And you loved the idea of getting off in front of a camera for random strangers who pay to see that shit. 

And of course, Harry didn’t know you were a cam girl at all. He hadn’t seen that coming when he was looking for something to get off to. But he wasn’t complaining. He just didn’t expect you to be the one on the other side of the screen. But there you were, showing your body and having sex with someone on camera for the (as shown) 27 people watching who are also horny as fuck. 

You as a person are already beautiful, he knew that, but your body was something else. The way your tits were shown so clearly on his screen with your tattoo that was inked right next to your left tit; as the purple light hit your skin. He wanted to take them in his mouth and devour them. 

You were sprawled out onto the bed, naked as Daniela was kissing you, and he couldn’t stop looking at you as your face looked while kissing someone. He was in complete shock that he stopped stroking himself, his dick in his hands as he watched you two make out. But once his cock twitched from the sight of your ass sticking up, getting a view of your glistening pussy and ass, he continued. 

You flipped Daniela onto her back, making her squeal in surprise before you started kissing down her body, leaving small and sweet kisses to her soft skin. You took her nipples into your mouth, sucking on it lightly as she moaned. Once you were lying on your stomach between her legs, you gave her inner thighs a kiss before licking one long strike up her pussy. You generally loved the way girls taste rather than guys, so your mouth salivates more when you’re with women, eating them out and tasting them, and pleasuring them to their orgasm.

You tongue focused on her clit, licking her sensitive bud relentlessly as your arms were looped under her thighs, and your hand reached up to grab one of her breasts, taking her nipple in between your finger and lightly pulling it. 

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned. Her voice was much more high pitched than normal, but you think it’s hot as fuck. “Like that.” 

That encouraged you to continue sucking on her clit, and you brought your free hand to plunge two fingers into her wet pussy, curling up to meet the soft spot inside of her. Daniela’s back arched off the bed as her hair was spread out onto the pillow as she grabbed a fistful of your sheets into her hands. You pulled your mouth away from her to place your hand on her clit, rubbing it fast as you continue to finger fuck her. Daniela was an absolute mess above you, chanting that she was going to come as a way to manifest her orgasm. 

“C’mon, beautiful. Cum for me,” you encouraged her, the sound of your voice had made Daniela and Harry moan out with how sultry and seductive you sounded. Daniela’s peak washed over her as her hips bucked up, but you placed your arm on top of her thigh to stop her from moving as you calmed her down from her high. You licked her up once more, collecting her juices on your tongue before climbing up her body to connect your lips with her. Daniela could taste herself on you, and it turned her on even more despite just having an orgasm. 

Harry watched as you two kissed for a while. She wrapped her arms around your back, pressing her body against yours as you two made out, swirling your tongues together. Harry fondled his balls, intensifying the feeling before going back to stroke his cock. He gripped on his long hair with his other hand, so it felt like someone was in the room pulling his hair for him, and he closed his eyes. With the feeling of his orgasm coming, he was about ready to pump faster so he could get to his peak, but he heard your voice again. 

“I’m not done with you yet. Wanna cum again?” You asked her, and she nodded eagerly. “Want you to cum when I say so,” you told Daniela, and she nodded. Harry slowed his movements down as if he felt like you were personally talking to him, even though a lot of people on her live stream felt the way he did once she said those words. 

You fixed the laptop, pushing it back a little but still pointing it down to your bodies rather than your face. Giving Daniela a kiss, you situate yourself, putting one leg over her and the other under. You reach between you two, inserting your finger in her wet hole and bringing that wetness to her clit, and she does the same to you. 

Slowly moving closer to one another, you touch clits, rubbing it against each other as you two moaned out. The sounds coming from both of your mouths were loud enough that Harry had heard them from his room, and it genuinely felt like he was in the same room as he was also watching it on his screen. 

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he groaned to himself. 

“You wanna cum?” You said, rubbing yourself on her and she whimpered out a ‘mhm,’ and you proceeded to grind faster. 

“Yeah, please let me,” Harry moaned. 

The feeling of both your wetness rubbing together was sending you over the edge as you felt like you were going to explode. Your moans had gotten louder, and you really hoped Harry was wearing some sort of headphones with loud music because you felt bad that you were being this loud, but you couldn’t help it. 

But little did you know that Harry was listening to everything. 

You felt like Daniela had waited long enough to release, so you grabbed her face gently, giving her a kiss. “Go ahead. Cum for me,” you said breathlessly as you were going to let go after she was done. 

Once Harry heard those words, he sighed in relief, letting out a loud groan as his orgasm was released onto his stomach. His abs clenched and his hips bucked into his hand. He grabbed a pillow and bit on it, concealing his moans as he came down from his high. With his chest heaving up and down, he looked over at his laptop to see you breathing deeply and he knew that you had just orgasmed as well. 

Your orgasms had hit both of you hard as you were left sprawled out on the bed, laying on opposite sides as your legs were still entangled with one another. Daniela sat up, pulling your body towards her, and she kissed you deeply, still feeling entirely breathless. 

“God, you’re amazing,” she said against your lips, and you smiled into the kiss. The live stream was still going on, so Harry continued watching you two interact with one another post orgasm. “Kinda wanna use that dildo of yours on you,” she smirked, and you chuckled, nodding your head eagerly. 

“Like a threesome, but with a dildo,” you joked, and she laughed. 

“Maybe we should have one?” 

“What? A threesome?” You asked, pulling back, and she nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders. 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“With who?” 

Just on cue, a knock was heard on your door quite loud, making you and Daniela turn your heads towards the door. Before you even had the chance to even get up, the door opened, revealing Harry in just his boxers. You couldn’t help but look down at his crotch area and see his cock hard. 

“Done with the show ladies?” He asked, smirking. The two of you were still completely naked, but neither of you cared to make an effort to cover yourselves. 

“W-What?” You stuttered and looked at Daniela as she had no clue what was going on either. 

“Watched your live stream,” he finally said, and your eyes widened. 

“How did you find it?” You asked, moving towards the edge of the bed, and Daniela stayed behind near the headboard. 

“By coincidence, I swear,” he said, walking towards you. “Was just scrolling and I was horny as fuck, and I stumbled upon it.” 

“D-Did you like it?” A nervous tone came with your words, and it was strange because you’ve never been nervous with Harry, except the time you came out to him. A huge part of you wanted him to say he liked it and that he enjoyed the show, and you really hoped he did. 

He stood in between your legs and looked down at you as you looked up. The sight below him was just something that irked him; you looking up at him with wide eyes, acting innocent and him looking down at you with a raging hard on, begging to be touched by you and your mouth. He placed his hands on both sides of your face, caressing your warm cheek as he studied you for a moment. The smear of mascara that laid under your eyes and your flushed cheeks made his cock twitch. 

Just from watching your live stream, he noticed that you were quite dominant in bed with girls. But with how you’re looking at him, wanting validation and reassurance from him, you’re submissive with men (or just him in general).

His stare was intimidating, and the dark purple light illuminating your room didn’t help. He’s never seen you naked and bare, so that added to the stress of if he likes what he sees. But you were surprised that you didn’t want to cover up in front of him. Throughout the years of being best friends and roommates, you two have never fucked. Although you have kissed multiple times, it was purely platonic and sometimes you just needed a kiss every once in a while. And as your best friend, Harry was happy to help. 

“Of course I fucking loved it. Wanna know my favorite part?” You smiled softly, nodding slowly as you looked at him with big and innocent eyes. He bent down, matching your eye level before he whispered, “Well, first of all you, of course. Looked so damn beautiful, I swear.” You blushed, and he continued. “But the part when Daniela suggested a threesome just a minute ago. If you and her are up with me being a plus one, then I am. Your wish is my command,” he said softly, kissing your nose.

Daniela gasped behind you, a big smile on her face as she crawled to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder before she spoke. 

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have a lot of fucking fun.” 

[ficharsimp]

hiii ! You rb it awhile ago but are requests still open? If so may I request from the October prompt “Silence” with chuuya?

of course! ^^

Prompt list

20. Silence + Chuuya Nakahara Hurt no comfort

Nothing but the soft ticking of the clock could be heard. Chuuya sat, hunched over his desk, a report in hand. The words looked blurry, he could barely comprehend what was written, but he couldn’t, and did not want to stop working.

He was so out of it he nearly fell off his chair when a voice sounded through the room.

“Won’t you go home already?”

Chuuya groaned and slumped back in his seat.

“Jesus Christ ane-san, you scared me…”

Kouyou signed. Walking quietly was her specialty, but it was so unlike Chuuya to not be on alert.

“You’ve been working for hours now. You need to rest.”

Chuuya tensed. He returned his attention to the papers.

“No, I’m fine, just…”

“Chuuya.” Kouyou’s voice was firm. He pressed his lips together.

Silence stretched for a minute. Kouyou spoke first, and the words sounded softer, more gentle than one could ever imagine.

“I understand, boy, I really do. I know you’re hurting after-”

“Don’t finish that”, Chuuya interrupted. Kouyou’s words died out in her throat, and she felt her heart ache for the boy, no, the man she had raised since he was but a child and had grown to see as her own son.

“I’m so sorry, Chuuya” she whispered, and walked over to the desk. “But I won’t let you destroy yourself.”

She pulled the reports from his hands, and fixed him with a stern look.

“You’re going home tonight. You need sleep and a shower.” Chuuya opened his mouth to argue, and she cut him off. “I’m not taking no for an answer, boy. Now go. Text me when you get home.”

The apartment was dark.

Chuuya felt the familiar dread when he stepped over the threshold. Too cold. Too empty.

Too quiet.

He tossed his hat and coat in the clothing hanger’s general direction and dragged himself to the kitchen. He had no appetite whatsoever, but had promised Kouyou he’d eat before going to bed.

Chuuya grit his teeth as he spotted a familiar mug. Their mug. Why was it still here, anyway…

He shook his head and strided over to the fridge, but froze as his gaze fell upon the many magnets and a few sticky notes. Chuuya turned away quickly and walked away. He couldn’t face the memories the cheap souvenirs brought up. He just couldn’t.

Soon enough he realized the entire house was filled with reminders. Reminders of Chuuya’s partner, of their life together.

He remembered everything to the smallest detail. The couch where they cuddled after a long day. The balcony, their favourite place to just stand still and enjoy each other’s presence. The living room, where they danced and laughed endlessly.

There was no music now. No laughter. The room that was once filled with warmth was now dark and quiet.

Chuuya felt something sting behind his eyes. He reached out to wipe the moisture away, but it was too late. Tears began to stream down his face, and his legs gave out. He sunk down on the floor, sobs wrecking his body. He finally allowed himself to cry his heart out for his lover.

“Why, Y/N?”, he whispered, voice breaking. “Why did you leave me???”

No answer came. There was only the heavy, suffocating silence.

[piratelil]

So how about that V9 preview , huh? Let’s talk about that!

This is a long post but bare with me.

The point of view:

I was a bit iffy on the first person view when I first saw it.

However, I think it did a great job showing the pressure that was placed on Ruby’s shoulders when Cinder attacked, which is definitely what they were going for. I hope we get to see first POVs of WBY+J as well, maybe in the form of clips/teasers.

Yang:

Holy heck this happened so fast. It makes me wonder how fast Blake was running to catch her. I still see a lot of people arguing that someone could have stopped Yang from falling. There is no way Gambol Shroud could have caught her with how quick it all went down. Not even Ruby’s semblance could have saved her; especially with the amount of shock that girl was in.

Neo:

What a day to be a Neo Stan

First of all-

Petty

Nuts and Dolts, RG,I see you over there. Turning into the people Ruby admires/loves is no doubt traumatizing. Oscar and Yang are two people Ruby probably feels like she failed, due to them all disagreeing and splitting up (also with Oscar getting kidnapped.) I feel like Neo’s allusion of them looking at her with that much hatred is going to cause Ruby to blame herself for everything that occurred and convince herself they’re angry with her.

The last image she has of Penny is choking her. I see a lot of people bringing up the fact that Ruby let go for a second. While this could have been just a regular movement, we also have to remember that Penny is a precious green bean and Ruby has never seen her friend look so vicious. This makes me wonder how she’s going to react when Penny’s body is found.

Mysterious Island:

Here we are on total drama island. Honestly, I wish we got to see a little more of it, but I’m not disappointed with what we got.

When Ruby lands on the island, we get to hear someone say “Ruby!” Three times. I’ve seen people say it’s Penny, Blake, Yang, even Summer Rose. To me it sounds like Blake, who may be searching for her after their fall. RB+N kind of fell in the same perimeter. So, though they were separated, I don’t think they’re too far from each other.

One thing that bothered me was how Ruby awoke in a panic, but stood up like it was nothing. She could have been in shock, but a different facial expression could have sold the fact that what just happened was nerve racking for her.

Final thoughts:

While I’m extremely excited to see what V9 has in store, I’m a little scared. This whole volume is going to be different from what we’ve seen before, most likely making it harder to write. There’s so many different ways things could happen. While I’d like to see bigger conflict and Ruby finally break down, there’s a lot of potential scenes that could come off awkward or opposite of how they’re trying to make it feel. However, it’s important to go about this with an open mind. Who knows, V9 might be one of the best volumes.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk. You may discuss NICELY. We are allowed to disagree here, but we do not come after others for their opinions/theories/hopes.

[maggyoutthere]

This "Everywhere At The End Of Time" thing has been showing up on my recommendations list on youtube. What even is this thing-

I mean it sounds neat. I'm like half an hour in and I like it :/ it's so nostalgic with the static and record scratches. I'm a sucker for ambient music and these sound neat

Edit:

Reached Stage 2

What is happening why is this triggering something in me. Like I can clearly tell something's wrong. You can still hear the music but the static and record scratches are louder.

I'm kinda scared though. As much as I love listening to music I can tell when something is just more than your typical summer hit or even mental health PSA. What is this-

Edit 2

K so apparently this is an album representing various stages of dementia. That's a tricky thing to do but I have faith in music. It's a great way to express stuff so I'm very curious to what this is gonna turn out like.

Edit 3

Idk if I like where this is going.

"I still feel as though I am me" broke me a little for some reason. Idk why but it just stood out differently to me. I am very very hesitant to jump some tracks to get to hear the other stages still today. Most of these tracks transmit the same idea but I didn't want to leave out anything.

Also no I hate rb stuff to make those threads. Have the consecutive edits of this thing.

Edit 4

STAGE 3 YOU CAN'T JUST CUT OFF LIKE THAT WHAT THE HELL-

Little heart attack I just had aside, I'm liking it so far. It's starting to get very uneasy but I think that's the point of it. Goodness gracious Stage 3 scared the absolute crap out of me. It cut just like that. So abruptly and caught me off guard. Not even a fade out, damn.

Edit 5

I had to skip some tracks from the second half of Stage 3 and

oh no

Edit 6

Reached Stage 4

I am having some very visceral reactions to this. It is incredibly unnerving but I want to keep listening to it so much. I love how it’s not even music anymore, it’s just... noise. Lots of different noises all crumbled up together, unified by some vely loud static.

Might have to skip some bits here because all Stage 4 songs are 30 min long each.

Edit 7

MOMS COME PICK ME UP OH FUCK OH GOD NO NO NO NO

I HATE IT HERE BUT I LOVE IT BUT AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It’s so hard to put down what this is doing. I’m not even sorry for rambling just take this post for what it is idfk if people are even reading this but holy fuck.

The 30 minute ones are killing me from the inside out. I’m very sensitive to audio and sounds (probably because of autism) and this is just pulling all the levers in my brain. It’s so- i have no idea what to call it. Sensory triggering?? I guess???

Edit 8

Stage 5.

Oh... god. 

Edit 9

Reached Stage 6

This has no description, both in the video and in my head. The sheer nothingness something so loud can transmit; the void where something should be but you can't remember what. Blessed were the minutes when I was still listening to the first track; there was music at least. Now there's just this emptiness, this absolutely deafening silence.

The worst is that you know exactly what's going on.

Edit 10

Listening to the last track: Stage 6 - Place in the World fades away

Everywhere At The End Of Time is a series exploring dementia, its advancement and its totality.

I cannot put to words what an absolute masterpiece this is. To tackle such a serious mental illness like this one is already an incredibly hard thing to do; to make art out of it is risky, to make it work is nothing short of a miracle.

The Caretaker (pseudonym of the composer) is an absolute master of his craft. To use something so carefully constructed as music and sound to make sense of something that makes someone not make sense is a challenge to say the least. How do you even go about it? In music there are bound to be rhythms and leitmotifs and patterns: there is bound to be organization.

This is where EATEOT absolutely excels in. I don't know if this could be called of music but I'll surely call it of art; the genius of these tracks are in their editing rather than in their composition. The first 2 stages are pretty much just songs with static noises and record scratches layered on top. It gets the message across: there is still memory, it's just blurry, washed out. It's there but it's hard to see.

From then on out, everything changes. Stage 3 keeps the background noise going, now repeating certain parts of the songs or even reverberating them. The memories themselves are starting to change, not just getting difficult to access. Stage 4 sees the absolute fear and horror of realizing such thing is happening. The grasping at anything in pure terror of forgetting everything. There is no such thing as music now. It's unnerving, it's uneasing, and rightfully so. This does not sugarcoat things and I personally like that.

Stage 5 hits us with a certain calmness after the storm. Things aren't better of course, they're just quieter. Memories are starting to dissapear completely and now there is mostly only the background noises.

Then comes Stage 6. It's desolated, it's deserted, it's nothing. It's gut wrenching. I'd like to touch on the last song because I particularly liked this one. "Place in the World fades away" is, in my opinion, divided into 2 parts. In the 1st half you have static and noise. There is nothing in there. The occasional crescendo almost scares you because of how hollow the mind seems to be at this point, but it leads nowhere. Then there's the 2nd half. You start to hear music. Actual music this time. A choir of voices, still echoing from somewhere else remind you of how it first started: with the music. It puts things into perspective and signals you towards the first of this 6-part series, how far we've come. Then, as if telling what must be told, the music fades away, leaving you with a whole minute of absolute silence. No static, no record scratches, literally a whole minute of dead silence.

I found myself continuously going back to this tumblr post and to the comment section of the video; I didn't want to feel like I was experiencing this alone, and I was glad to see people in the comment section helping eachother out, talking and venting, so that was heartwarming.

I know I'm not usually very serious about things but I wanted to try and do it for this absolute magnum opus. I like to critique stuff as much as the next guy, but to be able to analyze something like this is unique. If you want something to challenge you emotionally, something to make you think and reflect on things, this is an absolute must.

Tl;dr: Everywhere At The End Of Time is a haunting representation of dementia, both in its advancement and in its totality. It's really profound and definitely worth a try if you have some free hours.

[twdeadfanfic]

Storm

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: During a run, Daryl and you have to wait out a storm on a cabin.

Words: 1508

N/A: I wrote this fluffy ficlet for @twdsunshine​​​ 3K followers celebration! Her fic “Late in the Day” was not only the very first Daryl fic I ever read, but also the first reader insert, and I loved that fic so much, I read it and read it a hundred of times before (and after!) I began writing my own.

Thanks to @twdsunshine​ for hosting this fluffy fest!!!

You ran toward the small cabin, following Daryl, who turned his head to make sure you were behind him, reaching out a hand towards you that you grasped, the rain so strong that you could barely see anything. Daryl and you were on a quick run to bring some stuff back to the prison when a heavy storm had seemed to come out of nowhere, you hadn’t seen so much rain in years, getting completely drenched in seconds.  

You both reached the cabin, walking inside when Daryl unlocked the door, your damp clothes dripping water on the wooden floor. The place was small, one single room besides the tiny bathroom, and it didn’t seem too abandoned, there was a tattered sofa with a threadbare blanket on it, and in front of it a fireplace with a stack of wood near it, and even a couple of cans of soup on top of the counter.

“How did you know about this place?” You asked while you kicked off your soaked boots and socks.

“Found it a few weeks ago when I was hunting and had to hide from a herd of walkers, until they left,” Daryl answered while he locked the door and pushed a shelf against it for good measure. “Figured it could be useful for other times I went hunting.” He kicked off his boots and damp socks too, and he went to the fireplace to start building up a fire.  

“You were lucky you found this, then…” You sighed, you hated it when Daryl went out to hunt alone, afraid of him getting hurt either by people or walkers, and to know that he’d been, in fact, trapped by a herd of walkers didn’t help to ease your peace of mind. Probably the reason why Daryl hadn’t told you about it before.

You looked at him, his long, wet hair was stuck to his face, same than yours…he looked good like that, though, and you stared at him for a moment before going to help him with the fire.  Once you had it going, Daryl placed a couple of chairs near it, and he took off his soaked poncho, draping it over the chair to dry it, and you did your same with your coat. Your shirt was a bit wet too, but not as much as your coat, while it seemed that Daryl’s poncho and his leather jacket had protected him from the worst of the rain.

The hem of your trousers was soaked, the water spreading up almost to your knees, the wet fabric clinging to your skin, and you had always hated that uncomfortable feeling. You wiggled your leg with dissatisfaction, droplets of water flying from your jeans, before you decided to just take them off.

Daryl looked at you to see what you were doing when he heard you fighting with your clothes, and he looked away, shy, when you shimmied off your damp jeans. You smirked, it wasn’t the first time that Daryl saw you without trousers on, but he still got so bashful, you found it adorable. You left your jeans near the fire to dry and rushed to sit down on the sofa, which was close enough to the fire to feel its warmth, and you covered your naked and slightly wet legs with the blanket.

Daryl looked at you, a soft, half-smile on his face as he looked at you snuggling with the blanket. He took the poncho from the chair and you wondered what he was doing as he approached you, and you turned your head to look at him as he walked around the sofa. He fumbled with the poncho, grabbing one of the inner, less wet layers, and then he brought it to your hair, squeezing it to dry it a bit, so at least it wouldn’t be dripping. It wasn’t a towel, and the poncho was wet anyway, but it helped a bit.

You hadn’t expected that, and you felt some twirls in your belly at the gesture as you gave Daryl a grateful, fond smile. Daryl didn’t say anything, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and he kept squeezing your hair. Once it wasn’t dripping water, you took Daryl’s hand, making him walk around the sofa to stop in front of you, pushing at him to squat down, and taking the poncho from his hands.

“Now you…” You brought the wet material to the ends of his hair, squeezing it as best as possible, and then you ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from its face. “Done.”

Daryl gave you a soft smile, taking the poncho from your hands and placing it over the chair to dry again.

“You should take off your trousers and put them to dry too, like me, you know?” You arched your eyebrows at him. “You’ll get cold…and I’m not letting you sit down here with those wet trousers, you’ll damp the blanket.”

Daryl smirked, arching an eyebrow at you. “You’re just trying to get me naked,” he teased even though he still seemed shy.

“But of course! By all means, take it all off, less you catch a cold…” You looked him up and down as you teased him back, smiling when Daryl blushed, looking away as he tried to hide his face with his wet hair. How could he be so adorable.

Daryl shook his head and huffed, and he went to pick one of the cans of soup, opening it and pouring it into a pot that he carefully heated over the fire, pouring it into a bowl once it was warm. As he got up from the floor next to the fireplace, Daryl tugged at his wet trousers, which were clinging to his legs like yours had, seeming uncomfortable. He glanced at you and finally he followed your example, pulling off his trousers and leaving them to dry on a chair, and you tried to stop yourself from staring at him as he walked towards you with the bowl of soup.

Daryl sat down next to you on the small sofa, and you reached the blanket to cover his naked legs too, mindful of the bowl of soup, that he gave you once you finished fumbling with the blanket. You smiled as the bowl warmed your hands and you let out a content hum as you took a couple of sips before giving it back to Daryl, and you both passed the bowl back and forth until you finished the soup.

You left the emptied bowl on the floor and turned to look at Daryl, smiling softly and reaching out brush his hair away from his face again before leaning closer to kiss his lips, and Daryl gave you that shy, half-smile that you adored. Neither of you had put a name to what you were, to your relationship, but you knew that you loved Daryl, probably more than you had ever loved anyone else, and you knew that you had gotten lucky enough that he loved you too, and he might not be the best at putting that into words, but he was getting pretty good at showing it…though truth be told, he only had to give you that smile to make your heart flutter.

Suddenly, you heard the loud noise of thunder from outside, startling you and making you jump, and you saw lighting outside the cabin…that must be close… The storm had reached you on full force, and you gasped again at more lighting and the loud thunder, startling you enough to flinch when Daryl touched your arm, and you looked at him when you realized it, eyes wide and scared.

“Are you afraid of storms” Daryl arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

You shrugged, embarrassed. “Not of storms…lighting…those things are dangerous…” You admitted quietly.

“We are safe here…” Daryl reached out to caress your arm, comforting, and you were glad that he wasn’t teasing you or making fun, but you could help but jump a bit again at another lightning.

“I wouldn’t be so sure…” You shuddered. “My best friend told me that a lighting once went through his uncle’s tv and to him…”

“Seriously?” Daryl arched his brow and you shrugged. “Well…there ain’t TVs here…” That was true, but you were afraid anyway, and Daryl knew it. “Come here,” he told you softly, tugging at you.

You didn’t need to be told twice, scooting closer until you were sat on his lap, snuggling to his chest as Daryl placed the blanket around you both, and then wrapped his arms around you, holding to him and kissing the top of your head. You smiled to him, grateful, and pecked his lips before snuggling to him again, hiding your face on the crook of his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the lighting, and trying to ignore the thunder. It was easier with Daryl holding you tight to him and his comforting warmth, making you feel safe, knowing that he’d protect you against anything, whether it was walkers, people, or lighting.

*

I hope that you enjoyed this little fluffy thing!

As always, excuse my English, is not my first language.

If you want to me (un)tagged let me know.

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[mythicmalasada]

i’m starting a thing called imagine your main genshin team in a modern au going to disney world together

headcanon dump (feel free to rb and add how u think it would go for ur team!)

lumine’s been there before with aether, so she knows how it all works. no one else does

xingqiu buys one of those hidden mickey book guides at the airport and hones in on it for the rest of the trip. he’s absolutely dedicated to finding all of them

bennett gets stopped at airport security on the way there because there was a water bottle in his backpack and they almost miss their flight

lumine warns them they’ll get dehydrated pretty quickly and chongyun immediately overheats and they have to stop inside an air conditioned shop and buy him a $15 water bottle

there’s a pool at the hotel and bennett cannot stop for 10 minutes to sit on a lounge chair and just relax. everyone else is tanning and he gets up to go buy a water gun

thus ensues a drenched, murderous xingqiu woken up from his nap and lumine/chongyun chasing the two of them through the pool so xingqiu won’t kill him

bennett makes them take pictures together Everywhere because he never wants to forget the trip

xingqiu and chongyun at the hotel go to buy candy at the vending machine in the middle of the night and start chasing each other down the hallway and lumine pops her head out of the door like wHAT ARE YOU DOING ITS MIDNIGHT

xingqiu absolutely has one of those spray water fans on a necklace and a fanny pack and the fan is ALWAYS going

bennett has to talk to every single dressed up cast member he meets and he’s 100% convinced they’re real

bennett: oh my god mike wazowski!!! how are you how’s monsters inc the minimum wage worker in an oversized fursuit: 

lumine gets really competitive over the buzz lightyear fp shooter game and it scares everyone else

++kazuha wears sunglasses and is drinking from one of those refillable park cups the whole time even on rollercoasters and every pic they get of him on a ride looks exactly the same 

lumine goes batshit insane wanting to ride every single rollercoaster, methodically dividing up each section so they can ride every one before the park closes

bennett picks out little souvenirs that remind him of his friends back home so he can bring them back something

chongyun tries to sit out on half the rides and the rest of them bully him into getting on 

“oh you’re scared huh? this one’s too tall for you is it? that’s alright, we can get another round on the frozen ride” “wait-”

xingqiu rides the peoplemover like 20 times because he likes it and they’re all begging to get off

xingqiu likes the stupid intellectual rides like carousel of progress. absolutely fascinated

xingqiu pretends none of the actual rollercoasters scare him when in reality he’s petrified of everything from expedition everest to the teacups

bonus points if chongyun’s like “we can’t go on that it’s crazy we’ll die” and xingqiu’s all “oh you big baby haha wimp” and they get on and xingqiu clings to his arm frantically

xingqiu’s the only one small enough to fit on a kiddie ride so they force him to go on alone and take pictures of him as he goes around like 😐 

bennett makes them wait on line for the river safari ride for an hour and as they’re next in line it starts to rain and they close it down

coasters stall on at least 3 separate occasions because of bennett

bennett developing an odd fascination with all of the mickey shaped foods

chongyun finds out there are several ghost related attractions (haunted mansion, tower of terror, etc.) and drags their asses there

“what the fuck??? those are holograms” “what on earth were you expecting”

chongyun (at first) doesn’t understand they’re not real spirits and tries to be heroic by climbing out of his cart and charging at the ghosts screaming FROM WHENCE YOU CAME

they’d all get matching mickey ears to wear around the park

they go to one of those theme restaurants and xingqiu gets called on to stand up and interact with the characters and literally freezes. nope. he won’t do it 

bennett stands up for him. spoiler alert it’s fucking hilarious 

bennett is like :D the whole time completely without dignity and their entire table is in tears

lumine falls asleep on the shuttle ride back and bennett lets her sleep on his shoulder

chongyun gives xingqiu a piggyback ride on the way back to the hotel because he’s tired

not a headcanon but just. i miss how foreign and comforting hotels and hotel rooms feel when ur on a trip

bennett befriends a lizard outside their hotel room and tries to take it back on the plane with him

he gets stopped Again in the airport going home and lumine turns around like ‘what now’ just to see bennett wrestling with a security officer over a small lizard in his backpack pocket

i think they’d all really enjoy the fireworks show/fantasmic. sitting there in quiet awe watching everything light up around them :)

i really liked doing this because we’re in quarantine and i haven’t left the house in *checks watch* 12 months or so and i miss amusement parks and interaction so i hope it made u guys happy !!

[favonius-captain]

𖤐 * ∿  BEFORE YOU GO

𖥻 SUMMARY

how you fell out of love pt 1 ( pt 2 hurt/comfort )

𖥻 CHARACTERS

diluc, kaeya, albedo & gn! reader

𖥻 LINKS

masterlist

𖥻 NOTES

please like and rb if you enjoyed ! inspired by lewis capaldi songs

𖥻 KAEYA

things have been falling apart for awhile now. and you both know it

you try and pretend that everything is alright - you tell your friends that his and your relationship is just as happy as ever

he lies and he tells the other people at the bar that you’re too busy to join him

you both lie

your relationship with him used to be spontaneous: every day with him was a new adventure

he used to surprise you with breakfast in bed. you used to come in during his work hours to say hi and drop off lunch

but it’s been almost a year since you’ve woken up with him on the other side of the bed

he used to tease you and ask you to wear his signature scarf 

and you used to steal it, and swear you’d never give it back

only now, you stare at it in your closet, before returning it to his side of the clothing rack

he used to come home every night for dinner, and then ask you, with a teasing smirk, if you’d like to accompany him to angel’s share

and now he doesn’t come home until it’s late - and you pretend to be asleep as you hear his drunken footsteps stumble to your door

you’re quick to hide your tears. he never notices

you argue a lot now – but the arguments always go unresolved. he’s too scared of intimacy to give a genuine apology, and you’re too prideful to give one either

so it always is resolved by the argument being swept under the rug

it’s gotten to the point where you’re both too tired to argue – so you purpose schedule things to do whenever he has his off days from work

and he throws himself into more work to avoid coming home to you

it’s breaking, and you both know it. you just don’t know how to fix it

and there’s one particular night – on your anniversary, where you bought tickets for you guys to go on a cruise to see a performance in liyue

he’s always told you how much he wishes he could travel

and you even went out of your way to ask jean if he could have a week off, and she says yes

you made him promise to be home by six because you had a surprise for him

but when he stumbles home at eight, when the cruise ship has already left, you can’t help but feel exhaustion bubble up in your chest, as you wonder where you went wrong

 (more under cut)

“you’re late.”

kaeya jumps at your voice.

 “sorry, love,” he says. “i got held up at work.”

 lie, lie, lie. that’s all he does anymore.

 “jean says she let you off three hours ago.” he freezes at that, and you can see his mind working to come up with another excuse. 

 “i–”

 “it’s our anniversary, kaeya.”

 he huffs. “i know–”

 “one fucking day. i ask you to come home for one fucking day on time, instead of going to the bar. and you can’t even listen to that.”

 “y/n–”

 “i bought cruise tickets.” he freezes at that. “for our anniversary. i cleared it up with jean to make sure you got the time off. i packed your stuff for you. i made sure to pack your favorite food. you always told me you wanted to see a performance in liyue.”

 there’s a flicker of emotion on his face – and it’s because you love him, that you know that the one flicker speaks volumes. but you’re too fed up to even care.

 you’ve spent too many nights alone to forgive him now without an apology.

 he turns. “i’m going to come back when you’re more rational.”

 of course. he always leaves before you can finish - he always shuts you down, he never fucking listens.

 and you want to yell–you want to scream at him. you want to be angry.

 but the only thing that comes out – 

 “do you really think we can keep going like this?” 

 he freezes at that. his hand hovers on the doorknob. you pretend you don’t see how they shake.

 the silence is deafening. you regret asking.

 “just lie to me,” you whisper. your voice has lost the anger. “lie like you always do. it’s the one thing you can do.”

 he doesn’t turn. but you can still read him; you know every way his shoulder bends, every way his hands shake. you know every sign – it’s an imprint you’ll never be able to brush away. 

 i love you. i still do, you want to scream, you want to beg. you want to tell him that you’ll try again. you want to tell him that you’ll fight for it; the love.

 but instead:

 “no,” he says. his voice sounds stronger than you remember. “i don’t think it’ll work.”

 he opens the door and he leaves. 

 you pack your things up that night. 

 you leave before he comes home.

 little do you know, he was late because he was preparing a special dinner for you. but you will never know that.

𖥻 ALBEDO

there’s an odd feeling of knowing that something is breaking, but being unable to fix it

what used to be a loving relationship, has dissolved into brief good mornings and i have to work on my experiment

and while it used to be i have to go back to dragonspine, he used to pause and ask if you’d like to come with him

now, there’s no pause. there’s no add on

he used to take the time and break in between experiments to make sure to spend time with you – at least for a few days

if it’s been awhile since he’s seen you, he used to note to make you dinner, and spend the night with you

when he was working in his lab, you used to sit in one of the stools, absorbed in your own creations

you used to make him small bracelets – beaded necklaces, or some trinkets that he always wore

sometimes, if the experiment wasn’t vital, you used to sit by him and watch

and he used to look up from his experiment, just to stare at you and smile softly, knowing that he loved you

it’s not like that anymore

now, you sit in silence in his lab, eyes nearly closed, wondering where everything went wrong

now, you ask him if he wants food, only for him to snap at you in a harsh tone saying that he was busy

he stops inviting you to dragonspine, for fear of hurting you in the lab. but you think it’s because he’s fallen out of love

he gets to wrapped up in his experiments that he only occasionally comes out of dragonspine, and he almost never spends time with you

your dinners become awkward and tense.

something’s breaking. and you can’t tell if it’s your heart or his 

and sometimes when you lay, alone, on your cold bed, you wonder how you ever thought your relationship could last forever

it only gets worse when albedo gets so wrapped up in his activities, that he forgets the things you’ve planned completely

there have been so many dates where he’s just completely forgotten, or been unable to leave the lab

and once or twice is fine. but seven?

you’ve been training to get into this apprenticeship program in liyue – and the day you get the letter of acceptance, you can’t help but be overjoyed

and it had been albedo who had encouraged you every step of the way. 

and while you want to tell him, you know you shouldn’t disrupt his experiment

so you leave him a letter at his door, asking him if he could come down over the weekend during your going-away party

he reads it, but he’s unable to leave his lab. he swears he’ll make it up to you after

and while you pretend you’re having fun at the going away party, you can’t help but watch as every hour of the clock ticks by

he never shows up

and you wait longer than you should have. like every goddamn time.

 you make your way up to dragonspine in early morning.

 you know he didn’t show up to the going away party – still, you want to say goodbye, one last time, before you left for liyue because you knew you wouldn’t be back for at least a month.

 you hesitate when you see the experiment in progress sign, and you wait there for an hour, waiting to see if it’ll be changed.

 it doesn’t. and you’re running late.

 fuck it, you think, opening the door.

 “i’m busy,” he says, the moment the door opens.

 your mouth snaps shut. something like anger and hurt both rise in your chest.

 “i just wanted to say goodbye,” you say. i can’t even do that anymore.

 he doesn’t even look up. “oh. y/n.”

 he says your name plainly–there’s not an ounce of emotion in it. it makes you flinch.

 albedo’s never been good at expressing emotion–you know that. but still, it hurts.

 “do you need something?” albedo asks.

 he doesn’t even know. and there you see the crumpled note you left for him, sitting in the recycling.

 you scoff. “could you even pretend to care?”

 he looks up at that. “can we do this after? i’m in the middle of an important experiment.”

 you snap your mouth shut. of course.

 you know it’s stupid – the anger you feel. you know he’s trying to keep you safe. 

 but not even a congratulations. 

 and it hurts. that he prioritizes his experiments over you.

 “of course,” you say, bitterly. “i won’t interrupt.”

 you leave. and deep down, you know this is a final goodbye.

 little do you know that he had a surprise planned for you – little do you know that he had gone through the effort to prepare you a send off meal, thinking you wouldn’t have to leave until later.

 but by the time he asks sucrose where you are, you’re already gone. 

 𖥻 DILUC

you can’t count how many days it’s been since you and diluc have fallen out of love

 liar. you’re still in love. you know you are

 but you don’t feel love anymore. you don’t even remember what it’s felt like

he used to spend mornings with you – he used to hold you in his arms, and give you a kiss to your forehead

you used to make breakfast together, chaotic or not, but still in love

you remember the days that you used to catch him staring adoringly at you while you tried to make the eggs, breaking into a grin

he used to always remember to give you a good morning kiss – no matter how late he was – and just give you a soft smile while saying “just one for the road”

you sit at the empty kitchen counter now. diluc is long gone

he barely mutters a “good morning,” always rushing to leave, even though you know he won’t come back until you’re asleep

and you won’t ever admit it, but you wait for him. every night

you wait in your bed, sitting up at every creak, wondering if he’ll finally be home

and when he is, you pretend to be asleep

he doesn’t pull you close anymore. instead, he stays on his side of the bed

he throws himself more into work – there have been so many times when you’ve tried to schedule a vacation with him, but he always cancels last minute

you’ve wanted to take a trip to liyue with him for ages–but every time, he cancels because of work

so many weekend plans, down the drain

he’s forgotten about your plans so many times – and when people ask you where diluc is, you just smile and say that he got caught up in work, pretending that you’re fine

he apologizes every time. but i’m sorry can only go so far

you had planned a trip for your and his anniversary – the same liyue trip you were supposed to have gone on six months ago

but on the day you were supposed to leave, he leaves a note saying that he won’t be able to go again because of work

 you’re waiting for him when he gets home.

 it’s past two in the morning - and you always wait. you never tell him, knowing he’ll feel guilty if he knew, but this time, is an exception.

 he slides in through the window, jumping when he sees you looking back at him.

 he tries to smile but it’s strained. “y/n. why are you still up?”

 you stare him, blankly.

 “are you kidding me?”

 he freezes at your tone.

 “is this about the trip?” he asks. “i’m sorry, dear, but i can’t go. i have work.”

 you can see the exhaustion in him – and you know it’s selfish to argue now when he looks dead on his feet, but you also know that he’s skipped on you far too many times for you to forgive him.

 “you say this every time,” you say. “i’ve been begging you to hire someone to help so you’re not working every hour. it’s one weekend, diluc.”

 “let’s talk about it tomorrow,” diluc says. 

 you scoff. “tomorrow? when you leave even before i wake up? sure, continue avoiding me like you always do.”

 he flinches. “y/n–”

 “i’m tired of this, diluc,” you say, with an exhale. “you said you’d try. you said you’d try and make time. but last weekend when i bought you tickets to see a show that you wanted to go to, you told me you had to cancel. and the time before that, you cancelled on my birthday dinner. i don’t–i can’t do this anymore. i can’t be the only one who puts effort into this.”

 and you can pinpoint the exact moment you see his heart shatter, as his eyes widen. and you know – you know it will haunt you for the next year. 

 but it has to be said. and whatever your relationship once was–it ended a long time ago.

 he swallows the lump in his throat, reaching out. “y/n–”

 you flinch, taking a step back. he freezes.

 “i tried, diluc,” you say, swallowing. “i really did.”

 and then you’re gone.

[whimsimmortal]

Merry Christmas Truce 2020, @reallydumbdannyphantomaus​ !! Hope I’m not too tardy! I picked your prompt "Valerie/Danny role reversal AU (Val is half ghost, Danny is the ghost hunter)”, and had a hoot doing it tbh. 

...enough so that I have some extra headcanons and junk for you below! >w>

(P.S. I’m a little scared that the intended recipient won’t see this bc I’m a p smol blog? and they are a p big blog??? someone bigger and better at tumblr pls rb and @ them if they don’t see this today ;v; ty)

I wanted to keep your main gift image classic, with your basic costume/powers swap (leaving them with their og color palletes just to keep it hip and fresh), but. I don’t think that’s really how a role swap would look! So I doodled you up a whole rambling, sloppy infographic about it for you!!

For starters, I don’t think Valerie Phantom would be wearing a custom fitted hazmat suit when she died, because,,, I don’t think she’d conveniently own one. I’m not sure how she’d find her way into the portal, either--maybe some wayward dare? But just to keep the character motivation consistent, I hc that she’d still blame Danny Fenton for all of her problems (namely, her untimely demise). Vlad would have even more reason to reach out to her than he did in canon (halfa twinsies! Be my child apprentice!), and better yet, she wouldn’t have any reason to turn him down: he doesn’t have any weird vendetta against Damon Gray, after all. As his apprentice, she’d learn all the cool powers that took Danny forever to master (like duplication, and ghostly cosmetic changes for fun and identity protection), and, idk, I guess they’d work together trying to trash the Fenton’s lives? She’d probably catch wind of Vlad’s more dastardly (and kooky) plans before too long and team up w/ Danny or the other ghosts to take him down. :>

Meanwhile, idk why Danny would pick up a suit from technus when he’s already got some (admittedly less cool) suits at home :v but he’d have to get miscellaneous, techy upgrades throughout the show. Sam and Tuck might press the hero thing a little, but his ultimate goal would be to survive a constant and personal haunting... without tipping off his parents enough to be grounded for life/or so much that they murder his classmate in the name of self defense 0<0

uhhh yeah that’s p much everything

ty for reading <3

[fear-before-valor]

AU Ficlet: Jim, who was raised by the Order from the age of five, attends Arcadia Oaks High, for his first day of human high school. Weird things happen in Arcadia, though, and his appearance seems to be one such weird thing to the residents in this small, strange town... 

Aka: How an Order-raised Jim met Toby and Claire

Words: 2939 II Warnings: none II ok to rb --

Jim dropped his backpack at the empty desk next to one Tobias Domzalski’s, one of the only people at school who’d been properly friendly to him so far. It was Jim’s first day of mortal high school, and he’d been vetted mercilessly by every student group but Tobias’s, though he was beginning to suspect that said group consisted of only Tobias.

Of course, Jim had been screening his peers right back, but it was still exhausting. He thought he’d been ready after the Order’s… extensive lessons on humanity, and how to fit in with the mortals like himself, but already, everything he’d done felt like it must have been a social faux pas of some kind.

Act quiet around the quiet kids? Then no one speaks, until the silence grows so long that it’s awkward, and starting up a conversation makes it feel painfully forced. So, okay, maybe find some louder kids and try to blend in with them. Except, they start to grow obnoxious, and at some point, the headache simply stops being worth it.

Jim wasn’t even going to dare try and bond with the overly studious; he wasn’t here to vie for valedictorian, nor was he all that interested in making grades that separated him from the pack. Not to mention, he much preferred whatever lessons the Order could teach him anyway. They were very practical things, going over philosophy, strategy, combat, computations. He was already conversational in Bellroc and Skrael’s original languages, and though he knew Spanish would be equally valuable, the Spanish teacher seemed… intense, in a way that Bellroc and Skrael, who could likewise be rigorous sometimes, were not.

In fact, the only class he was indeed eager to take was history—and, okay, perhaps physical education didn’t sound horrendous, so long as he was careful about holding back in certain areas—because while he could learn plenty of history from his very ancient guardians, to hear of human history from the mouths of humans, like himself… it sounded unique, in a way that he hoped was amenable, at the very least, if not genuinely interesting or entertaining.

As he sat down in the chair beside Tobias, the boy seemed to light up, beaming over at Jim, a reaction that he hadn’t expected from his peer. He’d thought he’d rather botched his first conversation with Tobias in homeroom that morning, as he hadn’t known anything about anything that Tobias had referenced (what on earth was Gun Robot?). But, evidently, he must have done something well—or at least, acceptably— because Tobias was leaning over and excitedly holding out his hand to show Jim something which clattered in his palm as he moved. Politely, Jim glanced over to see what it was, and—oh.

Oh no.

That was definitely the remains of a troll.

Tobias was holding out small, grey pebbles for him to see, on which Jim could just make out hints of tattoos that had been etched into the troll while they were alive.

Holding back his mild panic, he gave a tight smile and a nod, as his classmate diagnosed them incorrectly as gneiss—which, admittedly, Jim thought wasn’t a bad guess, really. It’s not like the other boy had any reason to think that the rocks he was holding were anything but an average metamorphic stone.

Tobias was looking to Jim for a response, though, so he opened his mouth to speak, breathing in—

—magic.

Jim froze once more. The distinct tingle of magic had just washed over his senses, keen and undeniable, unlike anything else he’d felt that day.

It was raw, underdeveloped, not yet bolstered by the right teacher, but it was there, and it spoke in tones of purple, pulsing with potential.

Jim was no wizard himself, much preferring combat to the arcane arts, having not a strong penchant for it or its intricacies and delicate, temperamental nature, but even still, he’d been raised with the three most powerful magic-users in the known world. They’d taught him from youth how to recognize when magic was present, how to glean as many clues as he possibly could about it, or who might have cast it, might be walking in it, based on its style and scent, its intensity, or its intentionality. He wasn’t quite the best at sensing the finer details, nor could he find it when it was masked, but when it was open, unhidden, he could feel it like a mild electric shock that one might get when touching a door handle in dry weather; he could sense it like the faint scent of ozone during a storm, or like a prickle on the hairs on the back of his neck, when lightning was about to strike.

What’s going on? He thought, as he turned his head in the direction of the epicenter of the magic. First, there’s troll remains in the hands of a classmate with the same schedule as him, and then there’s—the girl, there. The girl with the blue streak in her hair.

The witch.

She’d caught him staring, as she set her books down on a desk in the front row, a couple columns over from his. Beside her plopped down two more girls—her friends, Jim noted, as they chattered familiarly, cheerfully.

The girl gave him an awkward smile, then, and Jim realized that he must have been staring for a few moments too long, so he rapidly flicked his eyes back to the surface of his own desk, trying not to think about the flush he could feel splash across the back of his neck, or the tips of his ears.

Tobias did not grant him such grace.

“Ooh,” he grinned, smug as a cat in a sunbeam. “That’s Claire Nuñez. President of the drama club, valedictorian candidate, great actress. She’s tied with Seamus Johnson and Shannon Longhannon for top of the class right now, I heard. She’s wicked smart, and—Jim?” Tobias huffed, “Are you paying attention to me?”

Jim’s eyes darted back to his new friend, from where they’d been briefly studying Claire Nuñez’s back, trying to get a more in-depth read on her arcana. He nodded distractedly. “Yeah, yeah, smart, a president; I heard you.”

Tobias sighed, shaking his head. “Jim.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, indicating that he was listening.

“She’s out of your league.” He deadpanned. “She’s super popular, and you’re, no offense, definitely not.”

Jim shot Tobias a confused look, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

The boy stared openly at Jim. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? Do you really not— Oh my god.”

Jim blinked. “What?”

Tobias shook his head. “Jim, you’ve kinda… scared a lot of the people in our class today. They don’t know what to think about you. You’re like a giant question mark! No one even knows where you came from—”

“Ohio.” Jim recited his cover story, which Skrael had helped him pick the night previous. They’d chosen a city that started with a c… right. “Columbus, Ohio.”

Tobias shot him a deadpan look. “Okay, fine, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio. Why’d you suddenly move to Arcadia, then? Why not L.A.? Why not Burbank?”

Jim frowned. “Do you interrogate every newcomer like this? My parents got a good job opportunity here.” He held up one hand, “And before you ask—real estate.”

“Oh yeah? How come I haven’t seen them put up ads, then?” Tobias crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, dude; I think you’re cool, but you freak a lot of people out with that brooding, silent thing you do.”

Jim snorted. “I do what?”

“Y’know—”

“No, I don’t know—”

“You act, like, all silent and mysterious when people try to talk to you.” Tobias shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but some people don’t seem as ready to brush it off as me. I’m only telling you so that you can make more friends here.”

“Well, I have you, don’t I?” Jim’s head canted.

Tobias blinked, floundering at that. “Well—y…yeah, I guess so, but—”

“I mean, we are friends, aren’t we?”

It was Tobias’s turn to go a bit pink, shaking his head in bewilderment. “If you want, yeah, but—”

“Then there we go. I have a friend.” Jim smiled.

Tobias tried to protest, “But—” only to find himself cut off as Mr. Strickler strode into the classroom at that moment, placing a leather briefcase on his desk with a decisive thump. Cacophonous voices incrementally petered out, as attentive heads turned to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Strickler had pulled out a stack of syllabi, handing them to the student nearest the door, with the instructions to “take one and pass them,” spoken precisely to the class.

Tobias looked like he wanted to say something when Strickler turned his back to write his name on the chalkboard, but Jim shushed him from the corner of his mouth, opening a fresh, blank notebook as he did so. This was the only class he’d bothered to buy a separate notebook for, and, to be frank, was the only class he’d even intended to take notes in at all.

Tobias looked chagrined, but not angry, as he rolled his eyes and went to fetch a pencil from his own bag. Might as well have something to do with his idle hands for the next hour.

—

As his first day was winding to close, Jim had to admit, having a friend at school did end up making it a little easier.

The rest of his time there had passed largely unremarkably, since a rather thrilling start to the history curriculum. Jim’s hand had shot up just as much as the apparent reigning top of the sophomore class, one Miss Claire Nuñez’s, had— a fact which had, according to Tobias, already begun to percolate across campus.

The lesson had only briefly covered the basics of ancient Rome, going over a bit of easy, more widely known trivia, to see what the class already knew about their oncoming first unit, but, nonetheless, Jim had been eager to jump in, to talk almost directly to Mr. Strickler, going back and forth in the form of a discussion. He’d spoken quietly, quickly, and he’d felt the eyes of his peers glued to his desk, but had ignored the sensation altogether, in favor of listening to what his teacher had to say about aqueducts, instead.

When the hour had finally come to an end, in fact, he’d packed up slowly, most of his classmates abandoning the room as quickly as they could—the lunch period was about to begin—though Tobias was kind enough to wait for him. As such, Tobias was the only other person present to hear Mr. Strickler stop Jim after class, paying a brief compliment to his performance that day, and accompanying his words with a poster for the history club. Jim didn’t think his furtive smile had gone entirely missed by the teacher, but as they’d exited into the now mostly empty hallway, he forgot to worry about it further, as Tobias wasted no time in asking him how the heck his new friend knew so much about history already?

Jim had shrugged it off, saying that it was his favorite subject; and besides, didn’t Tobias— “Seriously, dude, it’s Toby, by the way”— know more about geology than anyone else in their class? The compliment had made Tobias—Toby— preen, and he’d promptly dropped the topic, instead launching into an enthusiastic lecture meant to coach Jim through the cafeteria process. Jim, who had tried to jump in to say that he’d heard this at orientation the week prior, but Toby had shot him an appalled look at that, swiftly informing him that orientation did nothing to help the social side of things. Sure, he knew the motions, but did he know how to do them without standing out in the crowd? Absolutely not—in fact, the thought was almost laughable, according to Toby.

So, Jim had grinned, followed Toby’s lead, and had just barely survived the ever-important lunch line waltz.

The rest of the day had passed mostly the same way, in the end. Toby, having warmed up to Jim, took him through the whole rest of the day, guiding him through the intricacies of Arcadia Oaks High, and by the time the final bell was ringing, Jim almost felt like a normal student. Some of his peers had even started waving to him in the hallways; he’d broken the ice, after all.

Well. He’d thought so, until Toby had said goodbye, peddling away on his bike toward home, leaving Jim alone in the courtyard by the bustling lockers, surrounded by students eager to either go home, as Toby had, or to dive into after-school clubs and sports.

Jim opted to take his time, though, to enjoy the Southern California sun, as he strolled casually across the campus, toward the front of the school grounds.

As he rounded the corner, though, intending to head toward the Arcadia Oaks sign, where he’d stop and shoot off a text to the Order that his first day had gone well, and that he’d be home soon, he felt a tap on his shoulder, instead, and heard a throat being cleared behind him.

He knew who it was before he even turned to face her; her magic had given her away as soon as she’d reached a hand for him.

Despite this, Jim whirled as if she’d caught him by surprise, schooling his features into something startled but friendly, relaxing his shoulders as a polite smile crossed his face, upon seeing her. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—” he rethought his words, shaking his head. “Never mind. …It’s, ‘Claire,’ right?”

She nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah! And you’re ‘Jim Lake’, hm?”

Something about the way she asked that question sent up a warning bell in the back of Jim’s mind, but he tried not to look unsettled; it was probably just nerves.

“Yup; just Jim is fine, though.” He added with a casual laugh.

Claire tilted her head, continuing. “So, you’re quite the history buff, huh?”

Jim’s hands dropped to his pockets, as he glanced at his shoes, then back up to her. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess?” She teased. “You were on fire in class today.” She lifted her chin, to look at him head on. “Do I need to worry about you unseating me, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio?”

Jim snorted, shaking his head. “No, no; it’s not like that. History’s just a hobby.”

“Pretty intense hobby, if you know half as much as you seem like you do.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim grinned. “Intense? Like being the president of drama club, the vice president of debate, and the supposed shoe-in for the lead in the play this fall?” he recited, much to Claire’s surprise, who shot him an impressed look.

“Huh. You sure do pay attention, don’t you?”

He glanced around, making it a leisurely movement, concealing the way he was searching for anyone who could overhear, before his eyes met hers again, as he said, “Only to certain people.”

Claire blinked, cheeks reddening, mistaking his meaning. “Oh, yeah? What kinds of people?”

Jim rolled the dice. “Well, people who seem nice, or kind, who I could make friends with. People who do things I wanna do, too, so I can have an ‘in’. Like clubs, and things.” he clarified.

“And, uh…” his voice grew hushed, “Magic-users in the human world.”

Claire’s face fell. “What was that last one?” Her nose scrunched with the skeptical look that overtook her features.

Jim’s eyes darted to look for an exit, realizing coldly—fearfully— that he had grossly miscalculated.

“Uh…” Stupid. He chided himself. Think of a lie before you go backing yourself into a corner. Skrael would be disappointed in him if he were here.

“Did you just say ‘the human world’ like you… aren’t human?” She stared at him suspiciously.

Jim blinked. “What? No. I’m human. Of course I’m human.” He gave a strained laugh. “What else would I be?”

“…Someone who thinks they aren’t?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“It was a rhetor- well. I mean, I guess that’s true. But I’m not!” He smiled weakly, and then froze for a split-second, rapidly adding, “Someone who thinks they aren’t human! I know I’m human!”

Claire’s eyes shot to the street, where, to her poorly hidden relief, her dad had just pulled up to the curb, there to pick her up. “…Right. Well, Jim Lake from Cleveland, Ohio, my dad’s here, so I need to go, but this has been… interesting.”

Jim nodded rapidly, shooting her one more smile— a sheepish, apologetic one— as he gave her a shy wave. “…Yeah.”

Claire hoisted her backpack onto one shoulder, giving him a half-hearted wave back. “…Bye, Jim.”

“Bye, Claire.”

As she turned to leave, Jim frowned to himself. He wasn’t sure why, but something felt wrong. He supposed it could have been the awkward manner in which he’d acted, but in a flash, he decided that wanted to see her again, just in case that wasn’t it. He couldn’t be too careful.

So, before he missed his chance, he called after her retreating back, “See you around?”

Claire stopped, hand poised on the handle of the passenger side door, freezing there for a heart-pounding pause.

Then, she shot him a look over her shoulder, one of interest, meeting his eyes deliberately. Jim got the sense that he should heed it carefully.

“Yeah. See you around, Jim.”

[harryhandstan]

gotta get better

gif credit

This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry​ and @bopbopstyles​ for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha 

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :) 

final word count: 7.1k

//

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

//

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.  

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

//

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

//

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

//

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them,  "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

//

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

//

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

[zosonils-art]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Relationship: Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn

Characters: Ferb Fletcher, Phineas Flynn, Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb), Linda Flynn-Fletcher

Additional Tags: Autistic Ferb, Autistic Phineas, autistic phineas is more implied and could also be taken as adhd but he has both anyway so, Autistic Meltdown, Autism, Sensory Overload, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Illustrations, Canon Continuation, Fix-It of Sorts, i think????? i don't frequent this goddamn website i don't know, Brotherly Love, Crying, some of the crying is me

Summary: A stressful day pushes Ferb past his breaking point, and Phineas feels that he has a responsibility to set things right. Takes place immediately after Ready For The Bettys. Was supposed to be a simple continuation fic but got wildly out of hand. Ph*n*rb shippers fuck off this isn't for you.

---

as you’ve probably figured out if you’re following my main, i recently wrote my first fic since i was about 13! it’s available on ao3 at the link above, but you can also read it on tumblr by clicking the readmore on this post! i put a lot of effort into this and it took a lot of courage to post, so feedback is greatly appreciated!

"Mom! Guess what Ferb did!"

Phineas bursts into the kitchen energetically, still buzzing with adrenaline from the day's adventure. Ferb follows a step or two behind. Linda turns her attention from the freshly baked pie in her hands to her sons, although Phineas is too beside himself with excitement to consider whether or not she's paying attention. "He made a secret tunnel, and a spy headquarters, and a villain's lair, and a hover jet shaped like Perry- tell her, Ferb!"

Ferb doesn't match Phineas' enthusiasm. In fact, at the moment, he's sick to death of it. He prepares to launch into the explanation he's been trying all day to give. "Actually, I-"

"Wait a second," Linda interrupts, eyeing the boys with suspicion. "Why are you two soaking wet?"

The interruption is just too much for Ferb. He doesn't even process the question, just lets out a harsh shout of frustration. Phineas recoils - Ferb almost never shouts. "I give UP!" Ferb yells, his voice shaking on the last syllable, and before either of his surprised family members can respond, he turns around and storms off, his destination betrayed by the distinct clunking rhythm of stairs being stomped on too hard and the sound of a door slamming upstairs.

For a moment, the kitchen is silent. Linda recovers before Phineas does, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Young man, that is not how we talk to each other in this house!" she calls, setting the pie tin and her oven mitts down on the kitchen counter and following Ferb's path to his room. Before she can make it to the doorway, though, her progress is halted.

"Mom, wait!" Phineas pleads. He's finally caught onto what's been going on all day, and although he's still only half processed it, he knows he doesn't want Ferb to be in trouble for it. He frantically tugs on Linda's arm to draw her attention. Once he's sure that she's stopped, he withdraws his hand (he's still wet, after all, he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable), but sidesteps around her to put his tiny body firmly between her and the doorway to the living room. "Mom, please don't be mad at Ferb, it- it's not his fault! I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, he's just..." Phineas' voice trails off briefly, but he forces it back into action, complete with the most serious expression he can manage. "If you're gonna be mad at either of us, it should be me, okay?"

At first, Linda returns Phineas' gaze with suspicion, then her face softens with realisation. She crouches down to her son's eye level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Phineas, did something else happen today?" she asks, the anger gone from her voice.

Phineas hesitates, dropping eye contact again. He's almost certain about the cause of Ferb's outburst, and he can't help but mentally beat himself up for it to a degree. "Well, Ferb's been trying to tell me something all day, but he kept getting interrupted by our spy mission, and I guess it must have been really frustrating because he hates being interrupted but I didn't realise and-" he pauses to breathe, and shudders as he inhales as if on the verge of tears - "and I should have asked at some point but I just kept getting distracted and I didn't even realise how upset it was making him but-"

"Phineas," Linda says gently, and he gladly accepts the invitation to cut his rambling short. His breathing is shaky, but he doesn't cry just yet, even though his emotional state has nosedived in barely a minute. After giving him a moment to snap back into focus, Linda continues. "Phineas, honey, it sounds like this has just been a misunderstanding. On my end, too," she adds, regretting having snapped at Ferb earlier. Phineas nods with a nondescript mumble of agreement. Although he still obviously isn't looking, Linda gives him a reassuring smile anyway, accompanied by a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. "Thank you for telling the truth, sweetheart," she praises him.

"Mmh," Phineas mumbles, tugging at his shirt collar. He tends to fiddle with his shirt when he's nervous or overexcited. It doesn't hold a candle to bouncing his leg or flapping his hands, as far as stimming goes, but it's a lot easier to do while someone is touching you. "I just should've realised what was up earlier, then he probably wouldn't have freaked out..."

He finally glances up again, and the look his mom is giving him tells him that he should drop the argument, so he stops. Linda ruffles his hair affectionately, leaning forward to reach all the way behind Phineas' oddly-shaped head, and flinches at the unpleasant reminder of how waterlogged he still is. She stands up, flicking her hand dry. "I'm sure he knows you didn't mean to hurt his feelings," she reassures Phineas. "Why don't you dry yourself off and then go talk to him? Which reminds me," Linda motions towards the puddles tracked all over the kitchen floor, "why are you two so wet?"

"Oh, we fell in Isabella's pool," Phineas answers matter-of-factly. He isn't quite back to his usual blindingly sunny disposition, but the panicky tremble in his voice has at least disappeared.

Linda smiles, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, that I believe," she says. She'd tactfully decided not to comment on whatever that secret spy headquarters spiel was that Phineas had been getting worked up over, but she suspects his latest imaginary game took the boys to Isabella's backyard and ended up having some real-life consequences. "Oh, hi, Perry," she adds, as the platypus in question waddles into the kitchen.

Perry responds with his familiar chatter. Phineas leans down to pet Perry on the head. "At least you've had a stress-free day, huh," he says, then leaves for the bathroom. Perry stares at him blankly.

---

Ferb is having a meltdown.

He knows what this is, of course. He reads every textbook and blog post on the subject he can find, just in case it helps him make some more sense of himself. If he misses one, Phineas will no doubt have found and memorised it himself for the same reason, and will gladly rattle off anything new. Knowing why there's a raging storm beating at the inside of his head, however, is entirely different from quelling it. By the time he reaches his bedroom, he's trembling so violently that he can barely stand. He stumbles to his bed, pushing his hands down into the mattress to keep himself on his feet.

It's like feeling every feeling from every second of the day all in the same moment, and it hurts. So much is happening in his head that he can't even isolate a single thought, let alone process what it means. Is he angry? That'd make sense, sure, but his mental state isn't exactly conducive to deductive reasoning at the moment. Is he sad? Scared? Something else entirely?? He can't tell what emotion or mixture thereof it is, only that it's hurting his head, and he wants to get it out but he doesn't know how. He's struggling to breathe now, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping his body supported, and as he draws in a desperate shuddering breath Ferb feels something wet in his eye and then on his face, and he remembers that his entire body is wet and he hates it. It's cold, and his hair is sticking to his face and uncomfortably close to his eyes, and his clothes cling to his body oppressively and he wants to tear them off and stop feeling everything. Instead of doing that, he forces himself to breathe in again and looks around the room frantically, hoping to find something other than absolutely everything to concentrate on.

His eyes land on Phineas' bed, and although his vision is blurring as the panicky tears pour down his face, he recognises the shape instantly. Is he mad at Phineas? Should he be? He should be, right? If Phineas had just stopped to listen to him for once, he wouldn't be here with the world ending inside his brain. Another violent wave of emotion sends a shock through his whole body, and Ferb is still in no state to identify it, but he gets the message. He doesn't want to be angry. Not at Phineas. In fact, he doesn't want to feel anything he's feeling at the moment. Not the turbulent assault of everything inside his head, not the hammering rhythm of his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, not every tiny thing that touches his skin or the light from outside that still feels blinding through the curtains or the muffled sounds of conversation downstairs that he doesn't have room in his brain to translate into anything but more noise.

Sensory overload is another term Ferb knows, and it's another one that doesn't really help to know in the moment. The feeling of anxiety that's been growing in his chest since that morning finally becomes too much for his body to handle, and he collapses on his bed, weakly gripping the blanket for support. Burying his face in his covers blocks out most of the sunlight, at least, but it doesn't significantly improve his mood. He shivers, partly from cold thanks to still being uncomfortably wet, partly from the sobs making his whole body convulse. (When did those start? He doesn't remember.) He uses the last of his physical strength to pull himself fully onto his bed and curl into himself, trying desperately to calm himself down.

...

It's not working. Why isn't it working?? It's as if every effort to steady his breathing just makes him cry harder, every attempt at a calming thought being shattered into a thousand anxious ones by the merciless torrent of everything whirling around in his mind. Ferb is suddenly hyper-aware of how empty the room around him is, and it makes him feel helpless. It's the first feeling he's managed to connect a name to with absolute certainty this whole time, and it's terrifying.

If he was making any noise before in his attempts to control his breathing, he's stopped now. No sound escapes him as he lies in place, too preoccupied with the overwhelming barrage of thoughts in his brain to move. More than anything, Ferb wants his brain to just shut off. Everything in his mind blends into a horrible white noise that won't stop, threatening to drown him in static.

Through the raging mental cyclone, he just barely hears the knock at the door.

Phineas waits a moment before entering his room. He wants to make sure Ferb has time to process that he's here. A few seconds pass, then he opens the door slowly so that it doesn't make any sound. A stab of guilt hits him when he sees Ferb curled up on his bed, visibly distressed. He's facing the opposite wall, but the way he shudders as he breathes makes it obvious that he's crying. Phineas feels his heart sink. He'd really hoped it wouldn't be this bad.

"Hey," he says softly. Ferb grips himself tighter. Just a minute ago, Phineas would have been the last person he wanted to see, but now his desperation for comfort outweighs any lingering hints of animosity. He doesn't object to his brother's presence, so Phineas gently closes the door and walks over to his side of the room. He sits on the bed, watching Ferb to see if he reacts negatively to the shift in weight distribution, and tenses up slightly at how damp the blanket is. Of course, Ferb wouldn't have stopped to dry off on his way up here. A closer look confirms that while a lot of the water on his body has run off and soaked into his bed, Ferb is still almost as wet as he was when he arrived home. Phineas frowns - that can't be comfortable, and it's probably making him feel even worse. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Ferb curls into himself even more instead of asking. The question is so frustratingly rhetorical that he almost reconsiders the possibility of being angry, but the idea still scares him, so the feeling passes. Fortunately, Phineas understands the unspoken 'obviously not' with no further input, and continues to talk. "I'm really sorry about today," he begins. "I know you don't like being interrupted, and I should've realised that it was making you feel bad but I just wasn't paying enough attention and- and I'm sorry, because it's kinda my fault you got so upset," he apologises, not realising that he's holding back tears until he stops to breathe. He wills himself not to cry. He's here to try and make Ferb feel better, not guilt him into forgiveness.

It takes a second or two for Ferb to process what Phineas is saying. It's a struggle to drag the words through the confusing whirlwind of everything still rampaging through his head. Eventually, after a great deal of mental effort, he shakes his head in response. Perhaps he was angry before, he still can't tell, but he definitely isn't now. He can't manage anything beyond the simple gesture, but it's not the first time he's been utterly uncommunicative, so Phineas understands the meaning as well as he needs to: it's not your fault.

"Th-thanks," he stutters, although Ferb's acceptance does little to settle the crushing feeling of responsibility. "Next time you can speak I'll let you tell me whatever it is you needed to, okay? I promise." He smiles a little. "No more secret agent business to interrupt you."

The last sentence sure prompts a reaction from Ferb - he rolls over so that his face is entirely buried in the blanket and makes a frustrated noise without opening his mouth, his body shaking with some mixture of anger and physical strain. Phineas inhales sharply and recoils, no more prepared for an audible outburst from Ferb than the first time. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, already speed-testing possible answers in his head. "Did you not have fun today? Of- of course you didn't, that's why you're upset, but I thought you did a great job on the spy mission! It was really cool." He's trying to be reassuring, but Ferb just shakes harder, seemingly becoming more aggravated rather than less.

Phineas tilts his head in confusion. "Ferb? Ferb, it's okay, I-I'm sorry. Did... did it not go the way you planned?" he guesses, searching increasingly frantically for any change in Ferb's body language. "Hmm... oh, were you not finished building it yet?" He thinks back to Ferb's numerous attempts at speaking to him throughout the day, hoping that he'll find some clue that makes everything fall into place - and something clicks in his brain. He deflates a little at how painfully obvious the realisation seems in retrospect, with a soft "Oh." Sighing at his own ignorance, he directs his voice to Ferb again as he says, "You didn't actually build all that, did you?"

Ferb sits up slowly and turns to Phineas with his signature deadpan glare, the silent, biting sarcasm undermined significantly by the tears still falling from his eyes. Phineas hums concernedly. "Is that what you were trying to tell me?" he asks. Ferb gets partway through rolling his eyes before giving up and returning to the fetal position.

Phineas sighs sadly. He hates seeing his brother cry. There's nothing he wants to do more than pull him into the tightest hug he can manage, but he knows Ferb won't appreciate being touched in this state, so he opts to fiddle with his shirt again to keep his hands busy. "Who do you think did build that stuff?" he asks. Ferb doesn't care. On any other day, a secret spy lair being hidden under his house would be cause for immeasurable excitement, but after the day's events he's thoroughly sick of thinking about the subject. Phineas picks up on Ferb's antipathy towards the question and, sensing that it might be a sore topic for some time, decides not to bring it up again for a while. He'll satisfy his curiosity sometime when it doesn't come at the expense of Ferb's comfort.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the boys. It's broken when Ferb suddenly sniffles loud enough to make Phineas jump, sits up again, and halfheartedly tries to wipe the tears from his face. "Oh geez, hold on," Phineas says, leaning over to rummage through his short pockets. He eventually pulls out a wad of tissues, somehow unaffected by the earlier impromptu dive into Isabella's pool. He offers them with a gentle "here you go" to Ferb, who takes a few silently and scrubs at his eyes.

While he still doesn't feel good by any stretch of the definition, Ferb at least doesn't feel completely awful anymore. What was once a violent hurricane in his mind has receded enough that he can focus on the world around him without breaking down, at least for the time being, and he's left feeling just drained. He balls up his handful of tissues and tosses them at the bin under his desk. The ball makes it to Phineas' leg before unceremoniously bouncing to a stop. Phineas picks it up and throws it the rest of the way to the trash, standing up to do so.

Rather than sit down again, he kneels down and pulls out one of the drawers conveniently built into the bed. Ferb watches inquisitively, still too out of it to immediately catch onto what's happening. Phineas rummages a little before finally pulling out a pair of pyjamas, suggesting, "You should dry off and change your clothes." He pauses to think. "Can you make it downstairs to the bathroom by yourself?" he asks. At any other time, it would be a silly question, but Ferb is always exhausted after a meltdown. The visible effort it's taking him just to stay upright isn't lost on Phineas. Ferb ponders the question, then gives a tentative nod. He's definitely shaky, but he really wants to change into something dry.

"Great!" Phineas smiles encouragingly. "Should I bring the usual stuff to the living room? Your bed's probably not gonna feel comfortable until it dries out." Ferb glances down at the unmistakable damp silhouette of where he had been lying earlier and nods again, more confidently. He slowly gets to his feet, first pushing against his bed for support, then grasping the hand Phineas offers him. He lets go once he's certain he's regained his balance, and only then does Phineas hand him his pyjamas. "I'll come meet you downstairs, okay?" Phineas says. Then, pulling at the bottom of his shirt, which is still a bit soggy despite his best efforts to towel it off, he adds, "I should probably change into something dry as well."

---

Ferb rubs his eyes as he comes out of the bathroom, his drenched clothes swapped out for his much more comfortable pyjamas. He's stopped crying, it seems, but he's still feeling sensitive enough that the light from outside bothers him. He's relieved to discover that it's much darker in the living room - Phineas must have been here already. The curtains are drawn so that the lamp on the end table is the only light source in the room, softly illuminating its surroundings with a pleasant warm glow. He doesn't have the energy to analyse the entire room, even in these far more bearable conditions, but his attention is drawn to his favourite weighted blanket folded neatly on the couch. He sits down and drags the blanket over him, struggling a bit with the weight, but relaxing once he feels its reassuring pressure on his legs.

It's as he's settling into his position on the couch that Phineas enters with an "Oh, there you are, Ferb!". Perry is firmly but comfortably wedged under one of his arms, like a fuzzy teal football or loaf of bread, and seems altogether unbothered by his position. Ferb gasps quietly at the sight of Perry, his eyes brightening momentarily, and reaches out for him with various soft noises of urgency. Phineas wastes no time in setting Perry down next to Ferb, and the platypus reacts with a gentle, almost soothing chatter. Ferb instinctively mimicks the sound under his breath, and Perry responds with a nearly identical noise. Ferb echoes it again, slightly louder this time, and his face lights up with a weak smile, the first one he's managed all day.

Taking this as a sign of progress, Phineas sighs with relief as he sits on the sofa. He makes sure to maintain a respectful distance from Ferb, who's running a hand through Perry's fur as they echo the same low growling noise back at each other. (It pains Phineas not to join in, but he senses the two have gotten themselves into a groove that would be rude to interrupt.) Ferb's smile fades almost as soon as it appears, but he seems much more relaxed after the change in clothes and scenery. His hair is sticking up in every direction from being towelled dry, and Phineas stifles a laugh at how silly it looks. The back-and-forth chattering eventually dies down, and it's only then that Phineas continues. "Mom's gonna make you some tea, and she says if you aren't feeling better by dinner you can eat in here if you want," he says. Ferb turns to him and raises a thumbs-up briefly before returning his hand and focus to Perry.

Phineas quietly watches his brother for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want me to stay?" he asks. Exactly how sociable Ferb is while he's coming out of a meltdown varies. He almost invariably needs some time on his own to mentally reset, but sometimes it helps if someone he trusts is there to reassure him for a while first. In Phineas' experience, asking is always the best way to tell.

Ferb hesitates for a second, then surprises both of them with his answer, which is to turn and collapse into Phineas' lap with one arm hooked over his legs in a sort of pseudo-hug. Phineas tenses up, not sure how to react. He cautiously puts an arm around Ferb, in a comforting gesture that doesn't fully subject him to the overwhelming sensory experience of a true hug. Ferb doesn't fight it, just repositions himself so that he's lying down with Phineas as a makeshift pillow and sinks further into the gentle embrace. Phineas laughs softly. "Okay, I guess you do."

This is nice, Ferb thinks. Definitely an improvement over violently sobbing alone in his room. Perry must be feeling relaxed too, because he climbs onto Ferb's stomach, circles a few times, lets out one more chatter, then flops down and goes to sleep, purring gently. Phineas giggles at the platypus' behaviour, and Ferb's shoulders shake in silent laughter - his blanket absorbs enough of the sensation that it just tickles. Watching Perry doze off reminds him that he's still exhausted, despite the positive change in environment, and his attempt to stifle a yawn fails. He's still on high alert, and he knows he won't be sleeping for longer than a few minutes until the emotional clutter completely drains from his mind. With that said, both the blanket and Perry weighing down on him make for a pretty cosy combination, and he finds himself fighting to keep his eyes open. Maybe just a moment of rest will be good for him.

Before he knows it, his eyes are closed, and he's powerless to prevent himself from drifting off. Phineas accepts his new career as a pillow without comment, simply adjusting his right hand so that both his arms are positioned protectively around his brother. Being trapped in place for the time being doesn't worry him. Ferb won't mind being stirred awake when their mom arrives with his tea, and until then Phineas can easily occupy himself with thoughts of what to do tomorrow. Besides, he can subject himself to a few minutes of quiet if that's what Ferb needs. What kind of a brother would he be if he couldn't, right?

Ferb half-consciously brings a hand to Phineas' wrist, as if it'll float off if he isn't holding on. He can feel his brain shutting down, and he welcomes the change. The last thing he's aware of before his consciousness finally leaves him in peace for a moment is the sound of Phineas' voice, promising him, "You're gonna be okay."

[naturallytom]

Little Things (Tom Holland x reader)

a/n: this is for @rosyparkers​ writing challenge!! italics are flashbacks, bold is the prompt!! again i hope u enjoy this im sorry it’s been like 10 years since i’ve posted something lmao also big thank u to @sunshinehollandd​ for reading this over!!

warnings: a lil angst, scared of opening up/being vulnerable, other than that it’s fluffy fluff 

prompt: “Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s…it’s the love. It’s too strong, and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried…but I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.”

“You ready, my love?” Tom held his hand out to you as the dj announced it was time for your first dance, his brown eyes radiating a type of warmth that brought you comfort when you needed it most. You placed your hand in his and allowed him to guide the two of you to the dance floor, his hands going to your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He asked, his voice so soft only you could hear it. 

“Only a million times.” You smiled, hiding your face in his neck. It amazed you that even after years of dating he still had that effect on you. 

“I’ll tell you a million more times, then.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Not so bad yourself.” You replied, a small smile on your lips as your mind wandered to when you first met Tom and how far you came with him. 

“What are you thinking about?” Tom chuckled. 

“How do you know I’m thinking about something?” 

“You have that look on your face. The one you make when you’re deep in thought.” He told you, pressing another kiss to your head. “Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm. Just thinking about how far we’ve come.” You told him honestly. 

“We have come a long way, huh?” He smiled. “Remember when we first met?” 

“How could I forget?” You chuckled, your mind replaying the day you met him as if it was yesterday. 

The first snowfall of the season and you were in your room studying for an exam. Not ideal at all but you had this big exam coming up that you just couldn’t fail so you had to study as much as you could-

“y/n?” Your roommate poked her head into your room, a hopeful smile on her face. “How much studying do you have to do?”

“Ermm a lot, why?” You asked, flipping through your study guide so far. 

“Was thinking we could go out in the snow, at least for a little bit?” She grinned. 

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of studying to do-” 

“You’ve been studying all day! Come on, you need a break.” She argued, making you sigh. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick break. But only for a little bit!” You gave in, making your roommate cheer as the two of you got ready to brace the cold winter air. 

“It’s so pretty.” Your roommate said, her voice almost a whisper as the two of you took in the scene while you walked to the nearby park. 

Light, fluffy snow fell from the sky, landing softly on the ground around you as well as on your faces. For a moment when you looked up at the night sky, seeing glimpses of the stars and the snow falling, all your worries and obligations washed away, bringing on a sense of peace. 

The two of you arrived at the park, seeing other people there, all enjoying the snow. People were making snow angels and snow men, while others were having a snowball fight. 

“Hey check this out!” You roommate called, laying down in the snow and making a snow angel, sitting up when she was done. “How’s it look?”

“Not bad.” You laughed, bending down and molding some snow into a ball. “But unfortunately this snowball is too good not to be thrown and you’re the target so..”

Your roommate stood up and fortunately for her but unfortunately for you, she moved out of your way right as you let go of the snowball, allowing it to crash into the man right behind her. 

“Oh shit!” You gasped as he turned around, a look of confusion and slight amusement on his face while your roommate was hysterically laughing off to the side. “I’m so sorry!”

“That meant to be for her?” He chuckled, making you nod. 

“I’m so sorry, I tried to throw it at her but she moved at the last minute and-”

“Hey don’t worry about it.” He assured you. “I’m Tom.” 

“y/n.” You replied. “Really is there any way I could make it up to you?”

“Really it’s fine.” He laughed. “But I am getting cold so I was gonna go across the street and get a tea, if you’d like to join.”

“Sure, but I’m paying for yours.” You insisted, making Tom smile. 

“Pretty sure I’m supposed to pay for yours.” He tried, but you shook your head.

“No, no. It’s my treat. I’m the one who hit you with a snowball, after all.” 

“You looked so cute that night. The snow was falling and sticking to your eyelashes and the moonlight was hitting you just right. God, you looked like an angel. Still look like an angel.” He sighed. 

“Yeah an angel who didn’t let you in for a long ass time.” You chuckled. “‘M not sure what you did but you made me open up to the idea of being vulnerable and open to someone else. I hadn’t really done that before you.”

It had been almost eight months since the snowball incident and to your surprise, Tom was your (very caring) boyfriend. It sort of came as a shock to you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. You definitely had strong feelings for him, no doubt about it. But you weren’t good about expressing them. Tom liked to talk about his and open up his heart to you while you liked to keep your heart guarded and show you cared with smaller actions. 

Tom was patient, though. He was patient and caring and understanding and it made your heart swell within your chest to the point that you weren’t even sure if you could keep it to yourself. He didn’t rush you into opening up or being vulnerable, but he noticed the small smile that formed on your lips whenever you showed him a song or meme that reminded you of him. He noticed the way your eyes sparkled with pride when you successfully made his favorite meal to surprise him after a long day. 

You noticed the little things Tom did too. Like how he always took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders if you were out on a date and you got cold. Or how he always offered to walk or drive you home before you moved in and if he couldn’t or if you drove yourself, he would tell you to drive safe and to text him when you got home. 

“All those little things you did just made me fall even more in love with you.” He laughed softly. “Maybe I rubbed off on you a little bit.” 

“Maybe.” You sighed, your head resting gently on his shoulder. “You told me you loved me all the time, it probably rubbed off on me little by little until I said it.” 

A year and a half after a snowball resulted in you meeting the man of your dreams, you and Tom were still going strong, but you were scared. Tom had told you he loved you so many times yet you couldn’t find yourself to say those three little words back. 

“I love you.” He would say. “You’re my soulmate.” 

You loved him, you know you did. But despite Tom telling you all the time how much he loves you and that you were his soulmate, you were still scared. What if you said it and he rejected you? What if the two of you broke up and you were open and vulnerable for no reason? 

It happened one night when you were laying in bed, your head resting on Tom’s chest, playing with hands, lost in thought. 

“What’s on your pretty little mind, hm?” He murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead softly. 

“Nothing.” Lie. You were actually thinking about how much you loved him and how lucky you were to have him in your life, but the thought of opening up like that terrified you. You fell in love the way you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. 

“Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s…it’s the love. It’s too strong, and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried…but I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.” He said softly, as if he could read your mind. 

“How do you know you’ll always love me, though?” You asked. “That’s a long time.”

“Darling I fall more in love with you every day.” He chuckled. 

“It’s just,” you started, not thinking about the words that left your mouth next. “I do love you but I’m scared. I don’t like being vulnerable like that, you know this.” 

Tom paused before he let out a soft laugh, a sense of ‘I knew it’ mixed with confusion taking over your body. 

“What?” You asked, starting to get mildly defensive. 

“Baby you just said you loved me.” He smiled, making your eyes widen. 

“I did?”

“Mhmm. Also said you were scared and didn’t like being vulnerable.” He mumbled against your head, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles softly. “Being vulnerable is what makes us human, lovey. ‘S okay to open yourself up, especially to me.” 

“What if you didn’t feel the same way?” You glanced up at him, a small smile on his lips. “What if we broke up?”

“Neither of those are even possibilities.” He assured you. “I love you too much.” 

You paused before responding. “I love you too.”

As the song came to an end, you found yourself overwhelmed with love and felt tears involuntarily fill your eyes. Tom frowned lightly when he saw the tears, pausing to hold your face in his hands gently, concern in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, hm? Regret marrying me already?” He teased, making you laugh softly. 

“No. ‘M just really happy. I really love you. Don’t think I’ll ever stop.” You murmured, the concern and frown on Tom’s face being replaced with pure love and adoration. 

“Good, darling, because you’re stuck with me forever now.” He replied.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

_______________________________________________________________________

please rb/leave feedback!!

tagging some mutuals: @daydreamparker​ @angelic-holland​ @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown​

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Blame it on the alcohol

Requested: yes! Thanks to @unknowntoanyone

Pairings: Dick Grayson X Reader

Warnings: nothing pure fluff maybe some swearing but nothing too bad.

Word count: 1.158

A/n: thanks for requesting this, it was fun to write and i ended up liking a lot! Rb's and feedback are always welcomed. Sorry for any mistakes

5.Why are you in my bed?

14."Did we…?" "God no!" "Ouch"

52.I like you and I don't think this feeling is going to go away"

Based on the prompts from this list!

Dick looked at her dancing with Kory. She had a drink on one hand and the other was around Kory's shoulders while they danced. They were both laughing at Hank's "dance moves" aware that the guy might have a few more drinks than he should have. Dick was sitting at bar, looking from afar. He was nursing a beer in one hand, his second one to he more precise, he didn't feel like drinking anything too strong that night. He was tired and the last thing he needed was to wake up hungover the following morning. 

Y/n did not feel the same way as him apparently. She drowned her drink and cheered when Donna got back to the girls with a tray of shots. The three girls clinked their glasses and drank two shots each before laughing and screaming in happiness at the sensation the alcohol left in their throats.

Dick knew that y/n was a lightweight when her drinking but he was not going to deny how funny she was whenever she was drunk. She always ended up discussing with Hank about which was the best movie ever made: Back to the Future (her favourite) or Jurassic Park (Hank's). The arguments became heated the more they drank until either her or Hank would throw up and thus finishing the debate.

Neither of them had drank enough to start arguing about that yet, and Dick didn't want to wait until that happened, so he made his way to the group not even finishing his beer. 

"Dickie!!!" She screamed when she saw her approach the group. "Come 'ere! Hank said that Jurassic Park was better than Back to the future! Can you believe?" The girl asked him scoffing at the blondes words.

"I mean we're talking about time traveling here Hank, what's better than that? A bunch of reptiles that try to kill you??? Nah that's bad" she slurred every words while holding a Dick's biceps tightly. The boy had his hands around her hips trying to keep her in place.

"Besides, Marty is a total babe" she said giggling making Donna and Kory nodded their heads in agreement. Dick laughed and squeezed her hips trying to regain her attention, when the girl looked back at him she shared a dopy smiled at him and rested her head on his chest.

"I don't feel so good Dick" she said closing her eyes and inhaling his scent, she squeezed her hands around Dick's sides and the boy eyes widened when she did that. "You on the other hand...feel really good."

Dick laughed at the girl and took the beer from her hands handing it over to Donna who took it gladly. 

"Alright sweetheart, I think we need to get you to bed now" Dick said waving goodbye to their friends and dragging the drunk girl outside the bar. 

"You are like really pretty you know?" The girl asked him making a faint blush appeared on Dick's face. He cleared his throat and settled her in the car. The ride to the tower went smoothly, she slept most of the ride and Dick sighed looking at her. He was whipped and there was no denying it.

Dick walked with Y/n towards her bedroom on the tower,but the girl seemed to have other ideas. They ended up in Dick's bedroom. After giving her some water and helped her out of her clothes to change them for something more comfortable, the girl had begged him to stay with her for the night. So that's how Dick found himself laying underneath the girl he had a massive crush on since forever. He didn't want to think much about it, he blamed the alcohol for the way she was behaving, but deep down he hoped that it was more you acting than the alcohol.

Dick woke up after hearing y/n groaned. She was grabbing her head trying to silence her alarm that was ringing far too loud for her hungover mind. Dick sighed and grabbed her phone turning off the alarm when her eyes shot open. She let out a screech that made Dick almost fell out of the bed.

"What!? What happened!?" He asked worried.

"Why are you in my bed!?" The girl asked trying to cover herself even though she was fully clothed, but her mind was far from clear. 

"It's actually my bed…" the brown eyed boy answered scratching his head.

Y/n ran a hand through her head and asked with a shaky voice "Did we…?"

"What?" He was confused at first but his eyes widened when he finally understood her question "God no!" He answered quickly.

The girls face fell but she covered it quickly with a cough. "Ouch" she murmured quietly but Dick heard her anyway.

"That's not what I mean" he said moving closer to her "I just mean that I would have never done anything with you while you were drunk. I'm not like that."

"No, I know I just thought…nevermind" she said trying to get away from him as fast as possible.

"Wait!" Dick said way too loud which made her wince. "Sorry. Look I've been meaning to say something and I guess this is just as good as any other time so I'll just say it okay?"

"Okay" she replied confused.

"Okay, I'm going to say it and hopefully you'll be fine with it, I mean you don't have to, but if you're then great! I mean-."

"Dick! You're rambling" she cut him off amused at the outburst.

"Right, okay" dick sighed and looked at her right in the eyes before speaking once again "I like you...and I don't think this feeling is going to go away."

The girls eyes widened and her mouth was wide open. She couldn't believe that her crush was admitting his feelings for her. She felt dizzy but in a good kind of way. 

"Dick i-" before she could say another word she ran out of the room and went straight to the bathroom to empty her stomach. Dick was left confused in the bed but soon after went looking for her. He found her kneeling in front of the toilet puking her guts out.

"So...does that mean that you don't like me back?" He asked half joking half scared of her answer.

Y/n groaned and got up to rinse her mouth in the sink. She looked at him and saw amusement in his eyes but also worry.

"That was...bad timing" she said laughing lightly. "But um, I like you too" she said sheepishly.

Dick smiled and walked closer to her until his arms found her waist. "I could kiss you right now, but I'm going to wait until you brush your teeth" he said playfully.

"Fuck off" she said walking past him leaving him laughing in the bathroom. Apparently Dick had a lot to thank to alcohol after all.