#cereal stash

[legobowl]

Human Macaque + separate wukong I drew for another drawing 😌😌😌🙏

I HATE THE SIX EARED MACAQUE. Also i CANT survive the winter I NEED SEASON 5 GUYS HOLD ME DOWN…

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanart #brainrot #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid fanart #cereal stash

[iridescent-glitter-dragon]

Love the Bottle Job because Parker, Eliot, and Hardison all had a secret stash of cash somewhere in Nate's apartment

#leverage #the bottle job #nate ford #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #and i just bet that nate didn't even know #it's not like the man eats cereal #or inspects the interior of his furniture #sophie probably has a stash somewhere too

[hookingminor]

4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

-

1. 

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe. 

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing. 

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other. 

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta. 

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious. 

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you. 

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete. 

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over. 

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

-

2. 

Nico was getting a little desperate. 

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects. 

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook. 

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

-

3. 

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door. 

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room. 

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

-

4.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity. 

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking. 

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid. 

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air. 

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue. 

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted. 

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door. 

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

-

+ 1 

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam 

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry 

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

-

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you. 

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal 

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

-

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember. 

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door. 

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him. 

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees. 

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling. 

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear 

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

-

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

-

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

-

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life. 

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

-

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed. 

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car. 

-

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

#nhl imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #hockey imagine #fics #my writing #nhl fic #nhl x reader

[tarjapearce]

Old Friend

Summary: You meet an old friend in your shopping trip with the family.

Nothing but a slice of life, fluff, bit of angst and a jealous Miguel ~

Whenever it was restock day, Costco or Walmart would be the main places to go.

You'd get the list, Miguel would secure Rosie to his chest, as Benjamin would get inside your cart. Gabi would walk alongside you or her beloved Papa, pushing his cart.

Each would take separate ways, you'd get the meats and veggies, as Miguel would get the rest, powder detergent, cleansing products, and snacks.

"Mama, can I have these?" Benjamin swayed his feet pointing at the  colorful packaging of dinosaur shaped nuggets.

"Course you can, mi niño. Which one you want?"

"I tried the red one last time, I'll get the purple"

Benji's boyish voice echoed around you as you stopped on the frozen meals section.

"Alright, purple it is."

You picked the purple package, a triceratops and a T-Rex on the cover. Then, filled the cart with different sort of meats, Miguel's favorite cuts, hams and of course, lots of canned jalapeños. Orange, pineapple, and cranberry juice, a couple of sodas and finally you got to go to the cereal and coffee aisle.

Miguel was running out of coffee in his office, and back at home you only had a couple of packages. It reminded you the time Miguel nearly had an anxiety attack when he found out he had ran out of the black liquid gold, even in his secret stash.

For some reason the brand he always bought was put on the top shelves. With a huff you looked around to see if there was any ladder, but upon finding none, You stepped on the bottom shelf, trying to get the six pack in the edge, but obviously, you couldn't reach it.

Benjamin giggled when you missed, as revenge you smothered his face in kisses, earning you a loud and bubbling squeal.

"Here, let me." A deep voice rumbled behind you. Your eyes widened at the all too familiar face before you. Reaching effortlessly for the coffee packaging.

"Richard" you mumbled while taking the package, to then put it on the cart.

"Hey" His hand waved softly. Clad in a hoodie, bermudas and sneakers. A little gold band hugging his ring finger. Dull, as his overall aura.

Despite the years coming through, he hadn't lost his kind green eyes. Some wrinkles adorned his matured face. Ricky was only two years older than you, and still had some white hairs poking out here and there.

He sported a short and well trimmed beard, hair parted and neatly arranged to a side. His eyes darted to the boy that undoubtedly resembled alot like you, except for his curious big and round red-ish eyes.

"Whose this little champ?" The smile on his face was coy, but genuine.

"It's my boy, Benjamin."

A proud beam stretched on your face as your hand caressed Benjamin's head, some of his curls trapping your fingers.

"Nice to meet you, champ." Ricky stretched his hands towards him and Benjamin shook it, a tad nervous.

"He definitely has your curls."

You smiled, eyes diverting behind him, ready to meet his partner but, there was none, just his half cart full of car appliances, some diary products and snacks.

"My goodness, you have a beard now."

Ricky chuckled and scratched it. He was a handsome man, undoubtedly. Good and well worked physique. Lean muscles, athletic and healthy looking. Green eyes a shade darker than green apples, pretty lips you liked biting and a healthy tan on his skin, despite him being a pale guy. A couple of freckles adorned his nose.

"And you've got a kid now." there was a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"Three actually. Funny how we ended up doing the things we always said we wouldn't do right away."

Richard gave a soft laugh.

"At least we look good. And I'm sure you're a great mom. How long has it been?"

"I don't know, I suck at math. But I do know it's more than ten years." You pushed the cart to get the cereals and naturally he helped you to get them. Eyes looking for Miguel in every chance you had.

"How have you been?" He tensed a bit at the question, not expecting your openness to talking so casually, specially when your finger shone with a golden band. He graduated college and never saw you again, until now. Gentle and caring as always. You hadn't changed, and he was glad.

"As usual. Existing, trying to keep myself afloat after, uh... my divorce." His mouth pressed in a tight line, green eyes looked away for a second, unable to meet your stare. Ashamed.

Your eyes blinked at his reply. Clearly surprised by such thing. Face falling with worry. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Richard shook his head, and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Things happen. It's one of those situations that get your eyes open for good." Ricky rubbed his neck awkwardly and you offered a little reassure with a hand on his shoulder, patting it softly.

"Hey, you've got this. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure your problem solving skills are still top notch."

Hw chuckled, almost sympathetic at himself, "I don't even know anymore, if I'm honest. But if you say so."

The voices in the aisles kept indistinct, each in their own world, mingling with the upbeat background music.

"Also... I'm sorry." His eyes remained on yours. Something he'd always do when speaking truthfully.

Your brow quirked, "Whatever for?"

Ricky's hands squeezed the insides of his pockets as he spoke.

"For breaking up with you. Specially like that. It was a d-" He caught his tongue before continuing with the french before Benjamin, "It was wrong of me."

You could only stare at him, and he recoiled further in his spot, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.

"If something's worth saying, I... divorced cause my mom also ruined it for me."

You frowned, confused and he shook his head.

"So I cut ties, went to therapy and yeah." He reached out for a three pack of granola for himself, and another for you after you pointed at the brand.

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of confused as to why would you think I'd be happy to know something awful happened to you, Richard?"

Richard's brow puckered. You really hadn't changed at all. Even after he dumped you a few days before Christmas eve.

"I... don't know? Thought you'd hold a grudge for what I did."

"A grudge?" You tittered and this threw him off guard, "Not to sound mean or anything, but I didn't even remember what had happened until now. You know I'm forgetful."

You both chuckled as he nodded.

"Yeah, kinda wondered if you'd lose your head too if it wasn't attached to your body."

You gasped while mocking offense, "That was rude."

You grabbed a couple of cereal boxes Benjamin pointed at.

"But true. In all seriousness, I'm glad that at least something great came after me. Is he a good man?, wait..." He shook his head softly, "Stupid question Of course he is, you married him."

You beamed and this made his chest swell in a mix of happiness and pride. You deserved it after all he also put you through.

"You'll find someone, I know so." It always made him wondered why he was stupid like that to allow his mother come in between.

"I'll give myself a couple of years to heal first. Wanna make sure I don't repeat things over."

It was your turn to get that pride sensation in your chest. Knowing he was making a good progress out of his mother's shadow also made you happy. You out of everyone knew how hard it was like.

"Hope they're ready to listen country music nonstop in your car." He rolled his eyes.

"I know you hated the genre, that's why I always played them"

Your lips pursed with faked anger as he tittered, however, Ricky cleared his throat off the laughing upon watching a behemoth of a man, approaching from behind. Red eyes set on him. A shudder crawled on his skin as he gulped. The baby on his chest did little to appease the intimidating aura around him.

"Mama!" Gabi came to you with an excited face as she showed you her new acquisition. A purple and glittery cover for her phone.

"Qué lindo! Do they have it in blue too?" (How cute!)

"Nah, it was the last one, Papa said this would match with my room too."

Said Papa hugged you from behind, and kissed your temple, red eyes never left him. Ricky gave Miguel a polite smile as he backed away a few steps. Miguel's strong features only turned sharper. It would be a lie to say if Ricky wasn't surprised and intimidated.

Surprised cause you hugged Miguel's narrow waist, a pleased and proud purr emanated from his chest. Loud enough for only you to hear it.

The man before him screamed danger a mile ago. But also, explained lots of things. Like Benjamin's eyes.

"Richard, this is my husband. Miguel O'Hara."

Ricky hesitated for a second, but stretched his hands towards him, big tan hands easily enveloped his in a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you." His nervous smile was like fuel to your husband's ego.

Miguel acknowledged him with a brief nod, eyes not tearing away from him. A quiet She's mine in his eyes.

"Richard and I used to go at the same college. Oh! This is my eldest daughter, Gabriella. And my youngest baby, Rosie."

Gabi smiled politely while holding onto Miguel's hips.

"You have a beautiful family." His green eyes stared at an ever curious Rosie that gazed back at him. Miguel's shoulder's tensed when Rosie gave Ricky a smile.

"Thanks, You'll be fine though. Things take time, but, It all comes together somehow. Just be patient. I'm glad you're doing good on your own." Again, you patted his shoulder, he just gave you a small but genuine smile. Miguel's guts churned as his jaw clenched.

Ricky left after saying his goodbyes, not wanting to impose his presence any further.

"Gabibi, mi amor, can you get the food cart to the line, please?"

"Okay. Don't take too long, please?"

Gabriella took the cart as Benjamin showed her his nuggets, leaving you and Miguel with Rosie alone.

"Alright, interrogation can start now." You chuckled and Miguel pulled you by your waist towards him, ebbing you to walk a few steps before giving a firm slap on your rear.

"Miguel!" you hushed, flustered while looking around to see of there were people and he smirked.

"Wanted to do that before that guy, but that wouldn't be too polite of me, wouldn't it?"

You kissed his cheek, but he quickly corrected the place and pecked your lips.

"That's better. Who was he anyway?"

"My ex from college."

He just hummed and it was your turn to return the squeeze, he chuckled, "Relax. He just got divorced and obviously not having a good time."

"Too bad." He shrugged, a bit nonchalant and you deadpanned.

"Don't be mean. You were scaring him on purpose."

"Obvio. Still, forgot to thank him." (Obviously)

You chuckled as you approached to the line, Gabi waved at you both.

"Thank him?"

"Well, he let you go, and I wouldn't have met you in the first place. So thanks to that."

"Well, he's there on the other line, go tell him."

You teased, but to your surprise Miguel stepped away from the beeline and was walking towards Richard.

"W-Wait! Miguel!" You had skip a few steps to catch him and pull him back to spot, he smirked while pulling you tighter towards him.

"Don't tempt me, mi reina."

"God, I swear. You're-"

"Your husband, mi amor." He smirked, satisfied at his own title in your life.

"A jealous one."

He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Espérate que lleguemos a casa. No te la vas a acabar conmigo, mi reina." (Wait till we get home. You'll see what's up.)

Gabriella rolled her eyes at the flirty atmosphere around you and covered Benjamin's eyes.

"You're too young to see that."

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #soccer family ⚽🕷️ #atsv miguel #gabi o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #benjamin o'hara #rosie o'hara

[incorrectbatfam]

What did the bat kids inherit from their bat dad?

Dick: Bruce's hair and secret midnight cereal stash including a jar of Lucky Charms marshmallows

Jason: Bruce's smile and collection of contraband villain memorabilia that he swears he'll repurpose

Tim: Bruce's eyes and tendency to listen to the same song on repeat for 8 hours instead of sleeping

Damian: Bruce's adoption addiction and driving the Batmobile at full speed even though it's in desperate need for a tune-up

Duke: Bruce's gala diplomacy skills and restaurant orders down to the amount of ice in his drinks

Stephanie: Bruce's puzzle abilities and having a ton of different versions of her costume, most of which don't see the light of day

Cassandra: Bruce's quick deduction and leaving her laundry in places where it should not conceivably be

#bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #duke thomas #signal #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #orphan #batfam #batfamily #batbros #batboys #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #tw food mention #ask

[kwnnys]

BEING CHARLES' OLDER SIBLING !

note. charles gives off the biggest little brother vibes and I stand by that. little shithead I love him <3

classic yapper brother x nonverbal sibling relationship. charles loves ranting and babbling about his day to you no matter how busy you are. he'll be tugging at the ends of your clothes while you're washing the dishes, excitingly going off about the most random topics.

has a sixth sense where he immediately knows whenever you're about to leave the house. don't even bother trying to tiptoe out that door. cause the moment your fingers even graze the doorknob, he is sprinting towards you like a madman. practically begging you to let him come with you (doesn't matter where you're going, he'll beg and beg till you have to bring him along otherwise your eardrums might just burst).

he always insists on playing soccer together! though, with his natural skills for the sport and his experience, it isn't hard to guess who the winner is each game. shamelessly ignores you whenever you accuse him of just wanting to beat you. if he covers his ears long enough, you'll shut up and go through another round of painful losses again.

of course, soccer isn't the only thing you guys play. charles is surpringly a big fan of several different board games! and he seems to be pretty good at them, too. uno is one of his personal favorites, partly because it's one of those games where both parties really get fired up.

alas, charles' tremendous luck is something you simply can not beat. he's grinning ear to ear, trying to hold in his giggle before brutally hitting you with a stacked +12. (he can't help but burst out laughing when he sees the way you begrudgingly pick up the cards.) don't be a sore loser now. you'll just have to step up your uno game.

despite his clinginess towards you, charles is still your younger sibling. and as younger siblings do, he doesn't hesitate to snitch and blackmail you to get what he wants.

oh, you recently flunked an important math test? well, you better start emptying your pockets and prepare to swallow your pride. he's more than happy to use your hard earned money to increase his candy stash.

of course, he isn't completely a little brat. he's still somewhat of a child, after all. whenever he's feeling down for whatever reason, he immediately seeks comfort by your side. sitting quietly and resting his head on your shoulder till his energy completely restores.

definitely used to barge into your room and slept there whenever he had nightmares. you can still remember the sight of his sniffling expression as he crawled into your bed and tried to explain his dream in a shaky voice. (he denies it whenever you try and bring it up.)

extremely petty and likes to pick fights over the smallest things with you. oh, did he hear you say you were craving cereal? well, too bad. he's already skipping his way to the pantry with a toothy smirk. why are you looking at him like that? it's not like he purposely made sure to use every last drop of the milk. oh well, maybe next time you'll think twice before 'forgetting' to pick him up from practice.

always ALWAYS tries to call shotgun and whines the whole car trip when he doesn't get it. purposely kicks on the back of your seat till you eventually can't take it anymore and just let him get the damn seat. too bad. charles : 3 you: 0.

#— elys works #charles chevalier #charles x reader #charles chevalier x reader #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bluelock imagines #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk fluff #bluelock fluff

[the-stage-manager]

5 Headcanons of Astarion's Most Gremlin Behaviors

1. When he wants physical affection, instead of asking for it, he "hints" at it: Dramatic sighing that gets louder the more you ignore it; Tossing and turning in bed claiming he "can't get comfortable" until you finally give in and physically restrain hold him; sometimes he will simply sit in your lap, usually at the most inconvenient times, blocking whatever it is that you are doing until he receives the desired amount of affection. And he wants a lot of affection. Or rather, he wants body heat. Which you have and he does not. He's a leech. A cold, cold leech.

2. Your belongings are conveniently also his belongings: He will steal your clothes, and your makeup, and your jewelry and wear them himself. If there's an outfit that he's particularly fond of, he will abscond with it, and stick it in his closet. It's his now, unfortunately.

3. Astarion is going to get blood on everything you own. For fucks sake, who lets food dribble out of their mouth and get all over their hands like that? Astarion's a messy eater—he probably wears the blood all over his face like a badge of honor. He's going to drip blood all over the floor, and leave bloody handprints all over the counter, the table, and anything else he touches.

4. Watching you sleep/waking you up in the middle of the day when he's bored. He only needs to trance for four hours minimum. What is he supposed to do with himself for those other four hours while he waits for you to wake up? Do something productive? Unlikely. God help you if you wake up in the middle of the night to pee: "Thank the gods, you're finally awake! I was just thinking..." Good luck trying to get back to sleep while he talks your ear off. If he gets really bored, he'll wake you up, either intentionally or because he's getting into something he shouldn't. This is cat behavior, right here.

5. Astarion is messy. Have you seen his tent? He doesn't put things back where they belong—he doesn't put books back on bookshelves or dishes in the sink. He leaves his dirty socks everywhere. He's also a bit of a hoarder, collecting (stealing) anything that catches his eye and stashing it away in your home the way a squirrel stashes nuts. He's not used to being allowed to have things, so he often hides his trinkets away in places he thinks no one will look—you find rings in your shoes and necklaces in your coat pockets and gold coins tucked away in the cereal box.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin

[thedensworld]

On Scene | Yoon Jeonghan

Pairing: Detective!Jeonghan x Writer!reader (ft. Junior Detective!Soonyoung)

Genre: Action, Crime, Comedy, Angst, Romance

Synopsis: Yoon Jeonghan, once a dedicated police officer, finds himself embroiled in a web of corruption and is subsequently transferred to a unit that is shunned by his colleagues. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any more complicated, a murder case emerges, and it appears to be connected to his ex-girlfriend.

Author Note: this haven't been proofread, you might found typos and grammatical error. Reader is she.

Since the manipulation incident that marred Jeonghan's record years ago, he found himself transferred to the last place any police officer wanted to be: Unit 10, specializing in domestic case. The reason was painfully clear – it was where they stashed away the 'undesirable' officers, far from any significant cases. It's like being exiled to the Island of Misfit Toys, only with less glitter and more restraining orders. Jeonghan couldn't quite label every missing pet he'd tracked down as a 'case'; it felt more like passing the hours than true investigative work.

Jeonghan couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. He'd gone from potential super-sleuth to the guy who mediates couple over who gets the sofa in a messy breakup. It was a far cry from chasing down notorious criminals, but hey, at least he was saving furniture from an untimely demise.

His colleagues in the 'real crime' units would swagger in, regaling the office with tales of high-speed chases and epic takedowns. Meanwhile, Jeonghan was learning the delicate art of diffusing family feuds with nothing but a clipboard and a well-timed dad joke.

There were days when he felt more like a referee in a dysfunctional game show than a police officer. He'd wade through tangled disputes over who left the toilet seat up and who finished the last of the cereal. It was like a twisted episode of "Law and Order: Household Edition."

Yet, amidst the chaos, Jeonghan discovered a strange kind of satisfaction. He was the unsung hero of household havoc, the Sherlock of sock-stealing roommates. He brought order to the chaos, one misplaced remote at a time.

So, while his colleagues chased after masked bandits and international spies, Jeonghan patrolled the treacherous terrain of domestic disputes, armed with a sense of humor and a hefty supply of marriage counseling brochures. And as he stood amidst the wreckage of yet another epic laundry detergent argument, he couldn't help but grin. After all, someone had to keep the peace in the war zone of weekend warriors and sibling rivalries.

No, in contrary, everyone. He didn't enjoy every second of it at all.

Well, karma finally caught up with Jeonghan, and it wasn't pulling any punches. After years of playing fast and loose with evidence and dabbling in a little graft on the side, it turned out his best buddy on the force was the one to spill the beans. Talk about a double whammy – not only did he get a serious case of red-faced embarrassment, but he lost a pal in the process.

And if that wasn't enough, the universe decided Jeonghan needed another dose of cosmic payback. His ex, the one and only former flame, broke up with him without so much as a hint of an explanation. Talk about adding insult to injury! Suddenly, he was single, friendless, and jobless faster than you could say "karma's a real stickler".

Jeonghan's muttered curses could probably be heard from Mars every time he recalled the trainwreck that had been the past three months. It was like a twisted sitcom, where the universe was the ruthless showrunner and he was the hapless protagonist, stumbling from one catastrophe to the next.

As Jeonghan sat at his desk, wallowing in regret for all the missteps he'd taken, his lone senior – the only other soul sharing this forsaken office – made a grand entrance. And who should trail in behind him but the one and only Soonyoung, his former junior from the 2nd unit of the Criminal and Violence division.

Jeonghan practically catapulted out of his chair, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the comrade he'd spent seven years alongside. "What brings you here?!" he blurted out, silently praying that his internal alarms were just a false alarm. Soonyoung was no slouch when it came to policing; having him end up in this backwater felt like casting Tom Hanks as the office janitor. It was a crime against justice itself.

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel like he was witnessing a talent show on a cruise ship, with both himself and Soonyoung reduced to performing card tricks for the tourists. It was a spectacle, but not in a good way. Placing Jeonghan here was already like using a Lamborghini as a glorified paperweight, but now, with Soonyoung in tow, it was like throwing in a Ferrari for kicks.

"I requested to be moved here, sunbae," Soonyoung chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jeonghan's jaw nearly hit the floor. It was like watching a penguin declare it had always dreamed of being a flamingo. He blinked, momentarily lost for words. "You... requested this?" he managed to sputter out, disbelief dripping from every syllable.

Soonyoung grinned, his expression unapologetically cheeky. "Yep, I figured that i haven't learned enough from you." he quipped, casting a theatrical gaze around the modest office space.

Jeonghan couldn't decide if he should laugh or stage an intervention.

"Well, you've certainly right on that," Jeonghan finally replied, unable to suppress a chuckle.

As the three of them stood there, an odd trio in a sea of mediocrity, Jeonghan let out a nervous laugh. It was the kind that bubbles up when you're faced with the sheer lunacy of life The station might not know it yet, but it had just become the backdrop for the most unconventional buddy cop sitcom of the century.

"Did you find the corby that was assigned two days ago?" Yang Beomjae, a senior with nearly two decades of police service, inquired, extending a brochure featuring a forlorn-looking dog named Jennifer.

Jeonghan let out an exasperated sigh, momentarily closing his eyes, as if hoping to teleport himself out of this never-ending parade of missing pets. South Korea seemed to have developed a sudden epidemic of disappearing furry friends. It was as if he'd been drafted into some sort of secret 'Pet Detective Division' without his consent. He couldn't help but wonder if his badge was equipped with a hidden GPS tracker for runaway pets. This was beginning to feel like a full-time gig, and he was pretty sure he didn't sign up for this in the police academy.

He took the brochure from Beomjae with a resigned nod, already mentally preparing for another round of 'Where's Waldo: Pet Edition'. Jennifer the missing corby was just another puzzle piece in this bizarre pet-sized jigsaw. The poor dog probably thought it was auditioning for some canine version of 'Amazing Race'.

Jeonghan glanced around the office, half expecting to find a secret stash of 'Missing Pet Bingo' cards tucked away somewhere. He couldn't help but marvel at the sheer dedication of the pet-owning populace to misplace their furry companions. If only they put this much effort into remembering their anniversary dates.

With a wry grin, he set off on the latest leg of his unexpected pet-finding adventure. Jennifer, here he came – detective extraordinaire, now specializing in the clandestine world of runaway corbies.

"I'll come with you!" Said the very loyal junior of him, one and only Kim Soonyoung.

*

"It's a whole different ball game," Jeonghan remarked, steering the car towards the potential location of Jennifer. "No late-night stakeouts with a lot of suspect profiling and plenty of downtime for laughs. That's pretty much the drill in this unit." He regaled his three-month rollercoaster of an experience to the wide-eyed rookie, Soonyoung, who listened intently, though a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. Jeonghan secretly hoping to instill some regret in the younger officer for joining this supposedly undesirable unit.

After they parked, Jeonghan stepped out of the car, the block of apartments standing like a sentinel miles away from Jennifer's last known location. Memories of a similar case flashed in his mind - a friend of Jennifer's vanished, only to be found in this very vicinity, being fed by a benevolent fifty-something woman. As they strolled, the tranquility shattered by a sudden scream, and there she was: the familiar woman, who'd taken up the noble task of nourishing the neighborhood's furry inhabitants, now sprinting out of the building.

The sight struck Jeonghan, momentarily caught between amusement and concern. He glanced at Soonyoung, who seemed to be processing the scene with wide eyes and a barely contained grin. "Welcome to the wild ride, Soonyoung," he said, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Buckle up, it's never dull in this unit."

"Help! Help!" The woman's panicked cries reached Jeonghan and Soonyoung, sending a jolt of urgency through them. Jeonghan swiftly approached, pulling out his badge, a beacon of authority.

"Ma'am, I'm a police officer. Take a deep breath and tell us what happened," he reassured her, his voice steady.

The woman's words tumbled out in a rush, "My neighbor, I-I found her... blood... and..." Jeonghan didn't wait for the sentence to finish, already in motion. He gestured for Soonyoung to follow, their training kicking in.

"Soonyoung, call for assistance from the station," Jeonghan directed firmly, trusting in his partner's quick thinking. The urgency in the air was palpable, a stark reminder of the unpredictable nature of their work.

Once Jeonghan had donned his gloves and protective shoe covers, he stepped onto the scene. His heart clenched in his chest as he beheld the gruesome sight: a familiar woman, bathed in her own blood, with several stab wounds marring her body. It was his former girlfriend's mother, your mother.

Time seemed to slow as a flood of memories and emotions washed over him. He pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't afford to let personal ties cloud his judgment now. This was a crime scene, and he was a detective sworn to uphold justice.

"What's happened, sunbae?" Soonyoung stood beside him, scrutinizing the victim's condition. It was clear she had been murdered around eight hours ago. Jeonghan observed the other officers diligently executing their roles, gathering evidence while the forensics team prepared to process the victim. He took a deep breath before attempting to call you, fully anticipating that you might not answer. As expected, there was no response. He resorted to sending you a series of urgent texts, conveying that he had something crucial to discuss. Nearly half an hour passed before you finally returned his call.

"Hey, what's wrong? Something's happened?" Your voice carried a cheerful tone, blissfully unaware of the devastating news that awaited you.

"I need you to brace yourself for what I'm about to say, okay?" Jeonghan implored, his voice carrying the weight of the somber revelation he was about to deliver. After a heavy sigh, he mustered the strength to speak the words, "Your mom was found murdered just an hour ago. I'm here at the scene right now."

There was a palpable silence on the other end of the line, broken only by the sound of your slow exhale, as if you had been holding your breath since the moment he uttered those shocking words. The weight of the news hung heavy in the air, a painful truth that now bound both you and Jeonghan in shared sorrow.

"Where is she?" Your voice came out in a hushed, trembling whisper. Jeonghan gently relayed the location, the somber apartment building where your mother had made her home for several months.

"She's been processed by the forensics team, but we need you to discuss authorizing an autopsy," he explained, his own voice tinged with empathy and understanding.

"I'll be there," you replied, determination and grief tightly woven into your words.

As the call ended, Jeonghan took a moment to collect himself. He braced for the meeting that awaited him, knowing it would be the first time he'd see you in three long months. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, a mixture of grief, determination, and a shared resolve to seek justice for your mother.

*

Jeonghan hadn't laid eyes on you in what felt like an eternity. He'd been tip-toeing around the boundaries you'd set after the breakup, which he was convinced were more convoluted than a Rubik's Cube in a tornado. As you approached, your hair danced like rebellious spirits in the zephyr, adding an extra touch of magic to your already enchanting presence. Even in a moment like this, you were a vision. Jeonghan, for a second, had the wild urge to sweep you into a tight embrace, but alas, duty called, and he was stuck in the middle of work. Soonyoung's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you. He knew you were Jeonghan's former girlfriend, but the whole situation had him more puzzled than a cat trying to understand calculus. He glanced at the victim data, then it clicked – you were the victim's daughter. He shot a glance at Jeonghan, a mix of encouragement and disbelief dancing in his eyes. It was like watching a soap opera, but with less dramatic background music. Jeonghan wrestled with a storm of emotions, a tornado of regret and longing whirling within him. If only he could find the right words to bridge this canyon of misunderstanding and boundaries. But alas, words seemed to have taken a vacation without sending a postcard.

The air was thick with tension as you finally stood face-to-face with him after three long months. Your first words cut through the heaviness, a desperate plea for answers, "Where's she?"

Jeonghan's gaze shifted to the forensic ambulance, a somber acknowledgment of the grim reality. "She's currently being processed," he began gently, his voice carrying the weight of the situation. "I'm afraid you can't see her right now. We need your consent for an autopsy. There are signs indicating potential violence."

You bristled at the notion, your principles steadfast in opposition. The thought of subjecting your mother's memory to such an invasive procedure was a bitter pill to swallow. In your heart, you longed to remember her in the light that was true to her essence, not tainted by the brutality of her passing.

Jeonghan, acutely aware of your emotional turmoil, presented a compelling argument. His words were carefully chosen, emphasizing the greater good that could come from uncovering the truth. He knew the delicate balance he walked, aware of your sensitivity and the fragility of your heart.

Your voice trembled with apprehension as you asked the question that weighed heavily on your mind, "It's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

Jeonghan felt the weight of the answer he needed to provide. How could he possibly encapsulate the complexity of the situation? Should he be brutally honest about the intensity of the process, or should he offer reassurance that your mother would feel no pain?

Just as the silence began to stretch, Soonyoung stepped in, offering a perspective that hadn't crossed Jeonghan's mind. "Rather than hurt, I think your mother would want the world to know the truth," he affirmed, his words striking a chord.

You, grateful for the support, implored for a moment to collect your thoughts. "Can you give me time to think about it? I promise it won't be long. But so much is happening and I can't think straight," you pleaded, directing most of your gaze towards Soonyoung, who seemed to radiate a comforting presence.

Soonyoung nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. "Take all the time you need, Y/n. I know this is an incredibly tough moment for you. Would you like to sit down? Maybe some water?" He gently guided you towards a nearby bench, leaving Jeonghan standing alone to process the whirlwind of events that had unfolded.

*

Jeonghan's voice held a weariness that spoke volumes. "I don't want to take this case, sunbae," he confessed, sinking into his seat, trying to make himself appear as inconspicuous as possible.

Beomjae let out a resigned sigh, clearly hoping for a spark of the old Jeonghan he used to know. "I thought you were missing your old self, that's why I accepted this case."

Frustration radiated from Jeonghan as he roughly tugged at his own hair. The situation before him was a tangled mess, a cruel reminder of the life he used to lead. He yearned for the days when he pursued real criminals, not navigating the intricacies of Jennifer and her companions. This case, though, was an entirely different beast. It was your mother who was the victim, and the thought of facing you, speaking to you, without stumbling over his own words and appearing foolish was a daunting prospect.

He knew he wasn't foolish, not by a long shot. It was the effect you had on him, the power you held to unravel his composure with just a glance. Jeonghan was acutely aware that your presence had the uncanny ability to turn him into someone he scarcely recognized, a vulnerability he wasn't accustomed to.

Jeonghan's conviction rang through the room, his resolve unwavering. "It's different. I don't want to do it!" he asserted, his eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and frustration.

Suddenly, Soonyoung sprang from his seat, a burst of eagerness propelling him forward. "I'll do it, sir. I'll work on it hard," he declared, eager to seize the opportunity.

Jeonghan's ire flared at Soonyoung's impulsive offer. "I thought you wanted to learn from me? If I'm not taking the case, then neither are you," he scolded, his words stern.

Soonyoung's shoulders slumped, a pout tugging at his lips. "It's just... I feel bad for Y/n. I understand you can't take it because she's your ex, so I'll do it on your behalf," he explained, his voice carrying a hint of remorse, which only fueled Jeonghan's irritation.

"It's not about that! I— i just don't feel up to handling such a heavy case right now. I'm still adjusting here. And besides— why is our unit being tasked with cases from Criminal and Violence? We're domestic division!" Jeonghan vented his frustration, his discontentment with the situation bubbling to the surface.

Beomjae interjected, his voice calm but authoritative, shedding light on the matter. "You haven't heard, have you?" he questioned, capturing their attention. "Her daughter is a suspect. They found her fingerprint on the weapon. Its status is domestic homicide."

Jeonghan and Soonyoung were left dumbfounded, their minds struggling to process the revelation. It felt as though the air had shifted, reality tilting on its axis. "The results came in hours ago," Beomjae added, handing them the report. Jeonghan's eyes scanned the words, his disbelief echoing in the repeated refrain of 'no way.' There was no conceivable reality in which you could be the suspect. It was inconceivable.

"Since we found the evidence and the suspect, i don't think it's a heavy case."

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel the tangled mess of emotions threatening to engulf him. It was a whirlwind of complications he never imagined he'd face. First, you'd walked away from him three months prior, leaving behind a void of unanswered questions. Now, here you were, seated before him, a suspect in your own mother's tragic demise.

He let out a sigh, the absurdity of the situation almost too much to bear. In some twisted, cosmic joke, fate had decided to bestow upon him this absurd cop sitcom scenario. The irony wasn't lost on him, and he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But then, there you sat, an enigma he couldn't begin to unravel.

You were, without a doubt, one of the most unpredictable people he'd ever encountered. Your actions had always been a dance of spontaneity and caprice. Yet, the notion of you being connected to such a heinous act, especially involving your own mother, was beyond anything he could have fathomed. It was a curveball that left him reeling, struggling to find his footing amidst the chaos of emotions that swirled within him.

The atmosphere in the room was tense as Soonyoung settled beside Jeonghan, fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to transcribe every word that fell from your lips. Jeonghan, still grappling with the surreal nature of the situation, took a deep, weighted breath before beginning the interview.

"Kim Y/n, 34 years old, a writer, graduated in criminology," he recited, each word a heavy acknowledgment of the facts before him. He couldn't help but berate himself internally; your background in criminology only added a layer of plausibility to the notion that you might be involved in the tragic incident. It was as if the pieces were aligning in a way that painted a damning picture.

The room hung heavy with tension as Jeonghan began the interview, his words etching the grim reality into the atmosphere. His gaze bore into you, your silence speaking volumes, a stark contrast to the weight of the accusations.

"Park Haerim, your mother, was found dead on July 23rd in her apartment," he stated, the words landing heavily in the room. "We found a knife with her DNA on a pile of trash in front of your apartment, with your fingerprint. Do you have any word on that?"

The silence that followed was deafening, a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The weight of the evidence was a damning testament to the gravity of the situation, hanging over the room like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. Jeonghan's gaze remained fixed on you, a silent plea for an explanation, a denial, anything to break the silence that threatened to suffocate them all.

Jeonghan's voice carried a weight of solemnity as he began the interview, the gravity of the situation palpable in the air. His gaze shifted to you, your silence a stark contrast to the weight of the accusations.

'Say something, Y/n. Say something,' he pleaded internally, his eyes silently urging you to break the silence. He knew that in the absence of a strong alibi or evidence of your innocence, the mounting evidence could easily paint you as the perpetrator. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach.

As the seconds stretched, Jeonghan silently prayed for you to find your voice, to refute the damning sentence that hung in the air. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the truth and the potential consequences pressing down on everyone present.

Jeonghan's questions hung in the air, each word pregnant with expectation and dread. The room was stifling, the silence pressing in from all sides. Soonyoung could feel the weight of it, an oppressive force that seemed to squeeze the air from his lungs.

Your silence was deafening, a void that threatened to swallow them all. It weighed heavily on Jeonghan, his eyes fixed on you, imploring for a response. His voice grew more insistent, edged with a desperate hope that you would say something, anything to break the deadlock.

"Where were you when the incident happened?" he pressed, the question hanging like a pendulum. You took a deep breath, but still, no answer came.

Jeonghan shifted tactics, trying a different approach. "How many times did you stab Park Haerim?" he asked, his gaze unwavering. Your eyes met his, a look that held a thousand unspoken words.

Then, without warning, Jeonghan stood abruptly, a palpable frustration radiating from him. "Let's take a break," he muttered, his voice strained. He made his way to the exit, his steps heavy with the weight of the situation. The room seemed to exhale as he left, the tension dissipating, if only slightly. Soonyoung let out a silent breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his gaze flickering briefly to you before returning to the floor. The room was heavy with uncertainty, each breath a struggle against the suffocating atmosphere.

The whispered admission halted Jeonghan in his tracks, his eyes locking onto you. "I was at home," you confessed, your voice barely louder than a breath.

"You were at home?" he echoed, seeking confirmation, and you nodded, a fragile glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes. "Writing," you added, your words a hesitant but crucial addition to the narrative.

Jeonghan's gaze shifted to Soonyoung, a silent directive to continue recording your testimony. He knew the weight of this moment, the pivotal importance of your alibi. "Do you have anything that can prove your alibi?" he inquired, his tone tempered with cautious optimism.

You nodded, a newfound determination in your expression. "I didn't leave the house for two days. I was calling my friend, Lee Chan, and he visited my house that night. I was with him until the morning." The details spilled from your lips, each word a lifeline in this maelstrom of uncertainty.

Jeonghan's mind raced with questions, a whirlwind of curiosity and concern. Each query was a piece of the puzzle, a glimpse into a part of your life that he hadn't been privy to.

1. Why did you call him?

2. Why did he stay in your house?

3. What was your relationship with Chan?

These questions danced on the tip of Jeonghan's tongue, eager to find their way into the conversation. But he knew now wasn't the time. The priority was to verify your alibi.

"Could we check your alibi?" he asked, his voice measured. You nodded in response, your determination unwavering. "You can check my apartment's CCTV, my writing history. I never left home," you explained, offering a straightforward account of your whereabouts.

A part of him yearned to immediately reassure you, to say, 'I believe in you,' based on the history you shared. He knew you intimately, understood the rhythms of your life. Yet, the weight of the case and the complexities that lay ahead left him hesitant.

He let out a sigh, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. Regret gnawed at him, a persistent thought that maybe he should've pursued Jennifer's case instead. The path ahead was uncertain, and he was acutely aware that every step he took would have far-reaching consequences.

"Okay, we're going to check on your alibi."

*

Jeonghan's jaw tightened in frustration as he watched the news, the headline a harsh indictment of you. "Popular Crime Writer Has Killed Her Own Mother." The words blared from the screen, painting a damning picture. He couldn't bear to hear any more, swiftly turning off the television. The label of 'suspect' felt like an unjust brand searing into his mind.

'Suspect! Still a suspect,' he repeated in his thoughts like a mantra, a silent plea for the truth to emerge.

Soonyoung approached him, report and phone in hand. He handed over the report detailing the activities captured by the apartment building's CCTV. Jeonghan's eyes scanned the pages, each frame a snapshot of your movements leading up to the incident. The images painted a picture of normalcy, of someone going about their daily routines.

Soonyoung pointed out the key moments, the times your door had been opened. Each entry was a piece of the puzzle, a glimpse into the timeline of events. Jeonghan meticulously examined the records, each entry a crucial piece of the puzzle. The timestamps and descriptions painted a vivid picture of your movements in the days leading up to the incident.

"Two days before the incident," he mused, studying the image of you carrying groceries. It was a mundane scene, but it held significance in establishing your routine.

"Chan's visit," he noted, his eyes tracing the time you spent with your friend. It was a confirmed alibi, a crucial point in your defense.

"And when you left after receiving information about your mother," he murmured, the gravity of the situation settling in his chest. That moment, that choice, was a turning point in the narrative.

Each entry was a window into your world, a chronicle of your actions. Jeonghan knew that within these records lay the truth, waiting to be uncovered. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, urging him to piece together the fragments of evidence and find the answers that could exonerate you.

Jeonghan absorbed Soonyoung's explanation, frustration simmering beneath the surface. The broken CCTV felt like a cruel twist of fate, a critical piece of evidence just out of reach.

"How about Chan's alibi?" Jeonghan queried, seeking reassurance in the face of the mounting doubts.

"He confirmed that they were together that night, so there's no way Y/n was coming to her mother's house," Soonyoung assured, presenting yet another piece of the puzzle. The weight of relief settled on Jeonghan's shoulders. It was a crucial confirmation, a solid alibi that could potentially shift the tide.

"Also, Y/n was last seen visiting her mother a week before the incident. That's the last time they seemed to see each other," Soonyoung added, his voice steady. Jeonghan absorbed this information, the timeline of events slowly coalescing in his mind.

The revelation about the CCTV being under maintenance on the night of the incident was a frustrating setback, but Jeonghan knew they had made progress. With Chan's alibi and the knowledge of your last visit, they were building a case that could potentially exonerate you.

Jeonghan's mind raced, formulating a plan of action. The truth was out there, waiting to be uncovered. He was determined to find it, to clear your name and bring justice to both you and your mother. However—

"Argh! My head is about to explode!"

Soonyoung jumped, startled by Jeonghan's sudden outburst. He quickly turned to his superior, concern etched across his face. "Sunbae, are you okay?" he asked, worry lacing his voice. The stress of the investigation seemed to be taking a toll on both of them, but seeing Jeonghan in such distress was particularly alarming.

Soonyoung furrowed his brows, concern deepening as he met Jeonghan's gaze. The whispered admission caught him off guard. Jeonghan was known for his unwavering determination and resilience, especially when it came to solving cases. Seeing him like this, openly expressing exhaustion, was a rare occurrence.

"Sunbae, maybe you should take a break," Soonyoung suggested gently, recognizing the toll this case was taking on his superior. The weight of the investigation, coupled with the emotional turmoil surrounding you, seemed to be wearing Jeonghan down. It was a stark reminder of the human cost of their work in law enforcement.

"You stay here, I'll go for a walk," Jeonghan stated, his tone tinged with an air of quiet determination.

True to his words, he set off on a walk. However, he couldn't fathom how his own legs had led him to the detention facility where you were being held as a suspect. It was midnight, the facility cloaked in shadows, with only a few weary officers manning their posts.

Seeing you there, sitting with a book in hand, was surreal. He couldn't believe his eyes. You appeared strangely composed, far from the image he'd conjured in his mind.

"I thought you'd be frightened or anxious, being held like this," he confessed, approaching you cautiously. Your gaze lifted from the book to meet his, a weak smile playing on your lips as you closed it.

"Done checking my alibi?" you inquired, getting straight to the point. He nodded slowly, finding his way to a seat near the entrance of the cage.

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of the situation palpable. Then, finally, Jeonghan found his voice.

"I'm sorry for your mom," he murmured, the words heavy with sincerity and regret. They hung in the air, a feeble attempt to offer solace in the face of such a devastating loss.

"There's so much going on, and suddenly I'm a killer. I can't even process it," you confessed, a wry chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of the situation.

Jeonghan listened, his mind still processing the newfound information he had about your medicine consumption. Finally, he mustered the courage to ask, "Why do you take the medicine?"

You chuckled in response, acknowledging his discovery. "It helps regulate my sleep schedule," you explained casually. When he inquired about your sleep troubles, you nodded. "Not everyone can find rest as easily as you, Jeonghan," you noted with a gentle tone.

"It's not a remedy for a terrible illness, is it?" he probed, seeking to understand the reasons behind your medication.

You didn't directly respond. Instead, you opened your book and pointed to a sentence. "I've been reading this since I was brought here."

Jeonghan's eyes fell on the words, "Time is a gentle stream that gradually wears away the hardest stone." He looked to you, a silent question in his gaze.

You took a breath, the weight of your situation evident in your words. "I saw a news about me. People think I killed my mother when I have no idea how all of this happened. I want to tell, to scream, to announce that I'm not the killer. But would it make a difference? Would it be anything more than a waste of time?" you wondered aloud, your voice tinged with frustration and helplessness.

"So, you're just going to wait and let time unveil the truth?" Jeonghan sought clarification.

You nodded, your conviction clear. Jeonghan couldn't contain his concern. "You shouldn't do that! If you truly are not the killer, explain it to people! Clear up the misunderstanding. Your words hold so much power, sometimes more than you realize," he implored, his disagreement evident in his tone. The urgency in his voice mirrored the weight of the situation.

You chuckled at his words, a lightness in the sound that contrasted with the gravity of the situation. "Why are you getting angry?" you inquired, your eyes meeting his with genuine curiosity. Jeonghan found himself without an immediate answer. He couldn't quite pinpoint why his emotions were running so high. It was as if a whirlwind of concerns and fears had taken root within him.

As he grappled with his own emotions, he questioned himself, 'Why are you getting angry?' The inner dialogue mirrored the external one.

"It's just— you were on the brink of being sentenced. If you hadn't spoken up during the interrogation, you could have been handed a 15-year sentence!" he tried to explain, the weight of the near-miss still fresh in his mind.

"But I won't, right?" you responded, your voice calm but the implications chilling.

Your words sent a shiver down Jeonghan's spine. He rose from his seat, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you one more time. "Tomorrow, during the interrogation, I want to hear everything that is the truth from you," he stated with a determination that matched the gravity of the situation.

*

While being interrogated, you were not alone today. Your lawyer, Hong Joshua, had come to keep you company before your 48-hour detention came to an end. The interrogation had gone smoothly, at least as far as Jeonghan could tell. You answered all of his questions and vehemently denied any accusations of murdering your mother—something that brought a sense of relief to Jeonghan.

After asserting your innocence and claiming that the actual killer was still at large, you were finally released from your detention. As you, Joshua, and Jeonghan stepped out of the interrogation room, there was a palpable sense of lightness in the air. However, Jeonghan knew that his work was far from over. He immediately tasked Soonyoung with initiating a request for a thorough investigation into the case.

"Thank you so much for coming," Jeonghan expressed his gratitude to Joshua, a friend of both him and you, who had come at his request since you had initially declined legal representation.

"It's a pleasure," Joshua replied, his gaze shifting to you. "I'm truly sorry about your mother. Please don't hesitate to call me if you ever need assistance, alright?" he offered, his words carrying a warm sincerity. He then gently embraced you in a show of support.

"Thanks, Josh," you replied, mustering a weak smile. The weight of the situation was still very much present.

As Joshua stepped away, leaving you and Jeonghan alone, he turned to you with a sense of urgency. "I need your help," he implored, his eyes searching yours.

He explained his request before you could interject, acknowledging that while you were no longer an active member of the police force, he valued your insights immensely.

Before Jeonghan could delve further into his plea, the audible growl of your stomach served as a distraction. He looked at you with concern, his brow furrowing. "Don't tell me you haven't had a meal?" he asked, worry lacing his words.

You nodded hesitantly, admitting, "My last meal was two days ago." It explained the weariness and weight loss that was noticeable to him.

Without hesitation, Jeonghan guided you to his car and drove you to the nearest restaurant. As you waited for the food to arrive, he attempted to pick up the conversation from earlier, though he did most of the talking, noting how your words had left an impression on him.

"Your words linger in me," he confessed, his gaze locked onto yours. "You mentioned how your fingerprint could be anywhere, but you were at home," he recalled from your earlier discussion at the police station.

"If anyone knows your background well, being a former top profiler—ouch! Okay, okay, I'll stop," he protested playfully as you swatted his hand in mock reproach. "What I mean is, those who know you would never think you could be the killer," Jeonghan explained.

"But you were hesitant, weren't you?" you astutely pointed out, catching him off guard.

Jeonghan sighed, conceding, "I was... I admit, I did consider that you might be involved. Don't blame me! No one can predict what's going on in your head, Miss Writer."

"If only—if only you hadn't confessed to being at home and we hadn't checked your alibi, you might not be here, enjoying your meal so comfortably. Thank you," he said sincerely, first to you, and then to the waitress who brought your food.

As she left, he continued, "You might be in court right now, and I wouldn't have to work my ass off to find the real culprit. I was actually starting to enjoy my simple domestic cases."

Your puzzled look prompted you to ask, "What do you mean? Did you switch to the Domestic Division?" He nodded, indicating with his fingers that he had been in the unit you once ended up in before leaving to become a writer.

Suppressing a laugh, you responded, "Really? Since when? Is Beomjae sunbae-nim still there?" He confirmed your question with a nod.

"Next week will mark my fourth month," he added.

Returning to the matter at hand, Jeonghan sought your assistance once more. You shook your head, declining his offer. "Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm done playing the role of a real detective, Jeonghan. And honestly, I don't think you need my help. You're doing an excellent job. Besides, Soonyoung is a capable partner, isn't he?" you explained, firm in your decision.

Jeonghan found himself taken aback by your choice of address, 'Jeonghan'. It had been years since you called him that—back in the rookie days of being an officer, nearly a decade ago. In private moments, it used to be 'babe' or 'love' between just the two of you. The shift didn't go unnoticed, and it stirred his curiosity about why you had decided to end things.

"But still, it's your mom's case," Jeonghan murmured, trying to find a way to understand your perspective.

You chuckled, a touch of irony in your laughter. "Don't you dare try to gain my empathy. I wasn't planning on authorizing an autopsy until my fingerprint turned up on the knife. I was just going to move on and live my life in peace."

Jeonghan scoffed, unable to resist a teasing remark. "You talk like you only live for months. Why choose a peaceful life when you can savor a taste of chaos?" he countered.

"Like mediating break-up couples about who gets to keep the house?" you playfully teased, earning a groan from Jeonghan. "Thank goodness we don't have to deal with that. There are already too many cases like that," he remarked, realizing the irony of his words a moment too late. He glanced at you, half-expecting a knowing look, but you simply continued to eat your food, unfazed by his slip of the tongue.

Sometimes, Jeonghan realized, he tended to talk too much.

*

"Babe?" Jeonghan's voice broke the morning stillness, sensing the absence of warmth beside him. He hurriedly made his way out of the bedroom, drawn by the sound emanating from the bathroom. As he pushed open the door, concern etched on his face, he found you hunched over, struggling through a bout of vomiting.

He stepped in, a comforting presence, offering a steadying hand on your back and gathering your hair away from your face. Despite his gentle efforts, you insisted, your voice a soft mumble, "It's gross."

"It's okay. Do you need anything? Can you make it to the couch? I'll assist you," Jeonghan offered, his worry palpable.

Once settled on the couch, he hurried to fetch water, gently tilting the glass to your lips. He studied you, his gaze filled with both concern and curiosity.

"Are you alright? Is something bothering you?" he inquired, his voice laced with worry. You simply shook your head.

"I think I must've eaten something off last night. My stomach's not too happy about it," you explained with a faint smile.

The next day, the same scenario unfolded. Morning and night, you found yourself battling waves of nausea. Jeonghan couldn't help but worry.

"Do you really think it's fine? Maybe we should consider going to the hospital," he suggested, concern etched in his features. You shook your head, assuring him that a hospital visit might not be necessary.

"I'm open to a check-up, though. It's been a while since we had one, hasn't it?" you proposed.

"I'm okay with that. But for now, get some rest. I'll come back tomorrow, alright?" Jeonghan said, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and then your lips. With one last worried glance, he left for his night shift.

Jeonghan didn't return home for the next three days, only sending a message that he'd be back once he wrapped up his work. When he finally arrived, he found you peacefully asleep in bed. He took a quick shower before joining you, hoping to catch up on some much-needed rest.

However, his slumber was abruptly interrupted as you suddenly pulled away from his embrace and hurried to the bathroom, your body wracked with another bout of vomiting. Concerned, Jeonghan swiftly followed, taking care of you as best he could. He prepared a soothing mint tea, something you had mentioned you kept handy in case of further discomfort. Sitting beside you on the couch, he finally voiced the worry that had been gnawing at him.

"You've been going through this for nearly a week now. Do you really think you're okay?" he gently asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"It's just my stomach acting up lately. I think it might be my irregular eating habits," you explained, attempting to reassure him.

"No, love. I mean... is this normal? All of this... I mean... are you... are you pregnant?" Jeonghan finally mustered the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for days.

You shook your head, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. "No, I'm not. I took a test, and it came back negative. I even went to the doctor yesterday," you assured him.

"Then what's wrong? Why have you been experiencing this?" he asked, concern etched on his face. You sighed softly, a hint of pain in your voice, "I think I might need to see a doctor. It's starting to hurt." You gently rubbed your stomach, and Jeonghan felt a pang of helplessness wash over him.

"Would you like me to accompany you tomorrow? I can take a day off," Jeonghan offered, his eyes filled with concern. As he expected, you shook your head, insisting on going alone. He nodded, respecting your wishes, though his worry for you lingered.

The memory of the night three months before the breakup was still vivid in Jeonghan's mind. The slow unraveling of the relationship, like a frayed thread that couldn't be mended. Jeonghan, consumed by his demanding job in preparation for a promotion, found himself growing distant, while you were engrossed in the revisions and release of your upcoming book. The gap widened, and in just three months, a nearly six-year relationship began to crumble under the weight of miscommunication and emotional disconnection, at least from Jeonghan's perspective.

After two weeks of being largely absent due to work, Jeonghan returned home, half-expecting not to find you in your usual spots around the house, absorbed in your own tasks. However, that night was different. He discovered you sitting on the couch, tears streaming down your face, body trembling. He'd seen you emotional before, but never like this – it was a raw, heart-wrenching display of sorrow and despair.

Approaching you cautiously, Jeonghan inquired softly, "Baby... What's wrong?" He wanted to offer comfort, but when you pulled away from his touch, he was taken aback. It was unlike you to avoid him.

"No, stop," you pleaded through tears.

Confused and hurt, Jeonghan couldn't understand. "Why? What happened? Am I doing something wrong?" He reached out for you again, determined to provide comfort.

"Don't... Stop it," you mumbled, struggling to evade his grasp.

"Tell me! What's wrong?!" Jeonghan's frustration boiled over.

"Let's break up," you whispered, the words shattering something deep within Jeonghan. He needed to be sure, to hear it again, worried that perhaps he'd misunderstood.

"Tell me a reason why you... suddenly, want to break up?"

"I fell out of love. I don't love you anymore."

"What? Out of the blue, after six years – out of the blue, you fell out of love? Tell me! Be honest with me? What's wrong?"

"I'm being honest?"

"It's not because you're pregnant, right? And you don't want to face me because my family is pretty conservative. Are you pregnant?"

"No! I'm not pregnant. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not pregnant!"

The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air, both of you grappling with the reality of what was unfolding.

"Tell me once again. Why?"

"I don't love you anymore. Let's break up."

*

Jeonghan finally caught a glimpse of the mysterious man, the suspect who had killed Park Haerim. He was seen discarding the knife in a trash bin near your apartment building. Frustratingly, the car's blackbox only captured the man's back before he vanished into areas not covered by the CCTV.

With this newfound evidence, Jeonghan was able to confirm that you were not the perpetrator behind Park Haerim's murder. The focus shifted towards apprehending this mysterious man, prompting a thorough search by Jeonghan's team.

In the ensuing days, Jeonghan was immersed in monitoring the CCTV footage from the day of the incident, hoping to uncover any additional leads. It was during this intense scrutiny that Soonyoung unexpectedly approached him.

"What is it?" Jeonghan inquired, his eyes fixed on Soonyoung who seemed visibly uneasy.

Soonyoung's fingers danced nervously, grappling with the weight of what he was about to reveal. "It's not directly related to the case," he began, causing Jeonghan's brows to knit in confusion. Yet, knowing Soonyoung's tendency to leave him astounded, he held his questions.

"I debated whether to keep this to myself, but I don't think I can," Soonyoung confessed, taking a seat across from Jeonghan and producing an envelope from his jacket.

The hospital logo on the envelope caught Jeonghan's eye, and his heart quickened. Your name adorned the front. Jeonghan's curiosity mingled with a growing sense of trepidation.

"I discovered this during our investigation at her house. I assume you haven't seen it," Soonyoung ventured.

Jeonghan studied Soonyoung's face, searching for any hint of what was to come. The seal on the envelope gave way to Jeonghan's careful touch, revealing the contents within. His eyes scanned the words, and the air seemed to still around him. Gastrointestinal cancerous tumor, grade II. The date on the report sent a jolt through him—it was issued a mere week before your breakup.

The room felt charged with a palpable mix of disbelief, concern, and an urgent need to understand. Jeonghan's gaze shifted from the report to Soonyoung, his emotions swirling within him. The weight of this revelation settled heavily on his shoulders, knowing that you had faced this diagnosis alone.

"Why didn't she tell me?" Jeonghan's voice wavered with a mixture of disbelief and worry. He couldn't fathom the pain you must have endured in silence.

"When I read that, it struck me that she probably didn't want you to know, considering... well, it's cancerous, right? And it can be life-threatening," Soonyoung explained, his voice laden with empathy.

Jeonghan's mind whirred, trying to process the weight of Soonyoung's words. "What are you trying to say?" he queried, a touch of urgency coloring his tone.

Soonyoung's voice took on a somber note. "This could be the underlying reason she felt so hopeless after her mother's tragic end," he murmured, the implications sinking into the room.

The revelation hit Jeonghan like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the shadows of the past few months. 'She was preparing for the worst... for herself.' The realization clenched at Jeonghan's chest, stealing his breath.

He shot up from his seat, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. This was why you had chosen to end things, sparing him from the pain of a potentially devastating future. It was a selfless act, but Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a profound ache in his heart.

In a flurry of emotions, Jeonghan dialed your number repeatedly, his concern growing with each unanswered call. Texts went unanswered, and a feeling of dread settled over him. He couldn't shake the urgency to see you.

As he approached your apartment building, he was still trying to reach you. Lost in his worry, he collided with someone in his haste, the phone slipping from his grip. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, his apology rushed before he hurried up the stairs to your floor.

Jeonghan pressed the doorbell insistently, knowing you could hear it. The loud chime had often been a point of contention for you. He called out your name, his voice filled with worry, but there was no response.

In a desperate bid, he hoped that the password was still the same - your anniversary date. Fumbling to enter it, the lock clicked open, and he hurried inside. The darkness greeted him, and he quickly located the light switch. As the room flooded with light, his heart sank at the sight before him.

There you were, lying weakly on the couch, a hand pressed to your stomach which was stained with blood. Jeonghan's eyes widened in horror, fear coursing through him.

"Y/n!" Jeonghan rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he assessed your wounded stomach. It was a stab wound, and the sight filled him with dread. You were still conscious, your voice a weak whisper.

"Hold on, please..." Jeonghan's voice trembled as he dialed the emergency number, urgently requesting immediate medical assistance.

"It's Chan.." Your whisper cut through the tense air, and Jeonghan's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He wanted to kill me too.." You continued, your words coming out in strained breaths. Fatigue was starting to claim your consciousness.

"No, no, no! Stay with me, okay? Baby..." Jeonghan's voice cracked with emotion. He could feel your breaths growing heavier, and he pleaded with you to keep fighting, gently trying to coax your eyelids open.

"Baby! You can do it, okay! You're strong.. And you have to stay awake, alright? I'm right here with you." Tears streamed down Jeonghan's face, his voice desperate and filled with worry. Seeing you in this state was a pain he couldn't bear.

"It hurts.." You whispered, your voice strained with pain. Jeonghan nodded, his heart breaking for you. "I know, bear with me, okay? Take a deep breath, the medic is on their way. Please stay with me.."

Your trembling hand reached up to his cheek, brushing away the tears that fell. "I love you... I love you, Yoon Jeonghan.." The whispered confession sent a sharp pang through Jeonghan's heart. He held you tighter, feeling you grow weaker in his arms.

"I love you too, baby.. Please, stay with me." Jeonghan's voice trembled, a plea for you to hold on. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

As Jeonghan could hear the sound of ambulance and police sirens approaching, he scooped you up and carried you out of the house. He rushed down the stairs, desperate to get you treated as soon as possible.

"Help her, please. She's losing so much blood," he pleaded with the medic they encountered in the building.

Jeonghan met Soonyoung once they were outside the apartment complex. Soonyoung's eyes widened in shock when he saw Jeonghan covered in blood. "It's Lee Chan, he attempted to kill her. I saw him earlier on the stairs. He must still be around here. Find him!" Soonyoung swiftly directed the officers to search for Lee Chan.

Jeonghan accompanied you in the ambulance, his hand holding yours tightly as the medical team worked quickly to stabilize you.

"She has gastrointestinal tumor. There might be internal bleeding as well," Jeonghan informed the medic. As you received a blood transfusion, you began to regain consciousness. Your fingers moved slightly, and your eyelids fluttered open.

"Miss, I want you to blink your eyes if you can hear me," the medic instructed, but you didn't respond. Meanwhile, Jeonghan felt the grip of your hand tighten, and he heard you whisper his name.

"I'm here, baby. I'm always here," Jeonghan reassured you, gently rubbing your hair. Your eyes seemed heavy, but they focused on him. You mumbled something, though it was inaudible due to the respiratory device.

"Stay with me, okay," Jeonghan whispered in your ear, his grip on your hand never wavering.

"I love you," he heard you whisper, and Jeonghan nodded, his gaze locked on yours. "I know, babe. I always know. Stay with me, okay?"

You murmured more words, "be happy," before your eyes closed, and the pressure of your hand on Jeonghan's began to ease.

*

Jeonghan stood outside the sterile hospital unit, his clothes still bearing the haunting stains of your blood. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead seemed to flicker, casting an eerie glow on the sterile white walls. The passing footsteps and hushed conversations of hospital staff seemed distant, as if Jeonghan existed in a separate world altogether.

Inside that unit, you had fought a battle against the odds. The surgeons worked tirelessly, navigating the complexities of your condition. The room hummed with the controlled chaos of a medical procedure, each member of the team a skilled conductor in a symphony of life-saving efforts.

For Jeonghan, those moments outside felt like an eternity. His mind raced with thoughts of what could have been. The fragility of life, the fine line between presence and absence, weighed heavily on him. He couldn't help but replay the events in his head, each moment etched vividly in his memory.

As he waited, every passing second seemed like a gift, a silent acknowledgment of hope and gratitude. He longed for the moment he could see you again, to hear your voice and feel your warmth. The stain on his clothes, a stark reminder of the reality he almost faced, served as a somber emblem of the fragility of life.

In the midst of that sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor, Jeonghan's heart beat in rhythm with the machines inside your unit. The passage of time was marked by the soft chime of the elevator and the muted footsteps of nurses. And through it all, he held on to the promise of seeing you again, a promise that hung in the air, tangible and intangible all at once.

Your surgery went well. You had lost a significant amount of blood, and there was internal bleeding, which made the operation challenging for the medical team. Jeonghan waited anxiously outside your hospital room, still in the same clothes. The memory of almost losing you just hours ago weighed heavily on his mind.

Beomjae, accompanied by two other officers, approached Jeonghan, offering to take over his watch. "I'll do it here. You go home and freshen up. I'll call you as soon as she wakes up," he insisted. But Jeonghan sat there in silence, unable to respond to his senior's suggestion.

Taking a seat beside him, Beomjae leaned back in the chair, reminiscing about the time when you both shared the same unit three years ago, before your resignation. "I didn't know you are her boyfriend. She used to talk about you a lot," Beomjae remarked, his words tinged with a sense of realization. "I remember she once rushed home after sleeping in the office for two days, saying her boyfriend would be back after a week. It all makes sense now."

Jeonghan turned to his senior, a question lingering in his eyes. "Did she ever say anything bad about me?" he quietly asked.

Beomjae considered for a moment. "Not really bad, just... complaints, maybe? She used to complain that you were hardly ever home. You live together, right? It happens in a lot of relationships these days, I've heard."

"But things are better now, right? You're not as tied up in this unit anymore," Beomjae continued, trying to offer some reassurance.

"We actually broke up before I got transferred," Jeonghan revealed, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Beomjae nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "So that's why you were hesitant about taking on Park Haerim's case. It has been a shock for me, discovering she was the victim's daughter."

In that pregnant pause, Beomjae and Jeonghan sat in solemn understanding, the weight of the situation settling between them. Jeonghan's resolve was evident as he shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "I don't think I could ever leave her," he declared, the strength in his voice resonating with unwavering commitment. It was a statement that held a depth of emotion beyond words, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. The air seemed to hang heavy with the weight of the moment, as if fate itself were holding its breath. Jeonghan's unwavering dedication painted a poignant portrait of his love for you, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and circumstance.

Beomjae's voice was a mix of concern and sternness as he continued, "Look, I understand you care about her, but you'll be no good to her like this. You need to clear your head and come back strong. Trust me, she'll need you at your best."

He motioned toward the exit. "Go home, clean up, and get some rest. I'll keep an eye on things here. We'll update you as soon as she wakes up."

Jeonghan hesitated for a moment, torn between his desire to stay and the practicality of Beomjae's advice. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded and headed towards the door, grateful for Beomjae's support and understanding in such a trying time.

As Jeonghan entered his apartment, a sense of detachment washed over him. It was as if he was operating on autopilot, his body moving without conscious thought. The familiar surroundings of his home felt strangely foreign, each step a blur.

The scalding water of the shower offered a harsh contrast to the numbness that had settled over him. It was a jarring awakening, the heat searing his skin and bringing him back to the present moment. The burning sensation seemed fitting, a physical echo of the emotional turmoil he had just experienced.

His eyes clenched shut, blocking out the world, but the images of the night's events were etched into his memory. The sight of you, weak and bleeding, haunted him. Tears mingled with the water, a silent release of the pent-up emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Regret hung heavy in the steam-filled air, a bitter taste in his mouth. The decision he had made three months ago, to let you go, now felt like a gaping wound. He replayed the scene in his mind, wondering if he could have fought harder, if he could have been the support you needed. The thought of you facing cancer alone, out of a misguided attempt to spare him pain, clenched his heart.

A sob escaped his lips, the sound swallowed by the rush of water. The weight of his own emotions crashed over him, a tidal wave of confusion, grief, and love. In this vulnerable moment, he found himself connecting with the pain you must have felt when you made the decision to let him go. It was a harsh awakening to the depth of his feelings, a realization that he couldn't ignore.

As the water continued to pour, Jeonghan let himself feel it all. The grief, the regret, the love — they all swirled together, mingling with the steam and disappearing down the drain. It was a painful catharsis, but one he knew he needed to face. In the midst of this emotional storm, he made a silent promise to himself — he wouldn't let fear or regret dictate his actions any longer. If there was a chance to make things right, to be there for you, he would take it.

With newfound determination, Jeonghan turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The air in his apartment felt charged with a different energy, a sense of purpose guiding his movements. He dried off and dressed, the weight on his heart now transformed into a steady resolve.

He glanced at his phone, willing it to ring with news of your condition. The minutes ticked by, each one a heartbeat in the quiet apartment. Jeonghan's thoughts were a whirlwind, but at the center of it all was a simple truth — he loved you, and he was ready to fight for you.

Jeonghan jolted from his quick slumber when his phone rang. He had been waiting for a call from Beomjae, anxious for an update about you. Instead, it was Soonyoung on the line, and he knew it must be something related to Lee Chan. Jeonghan picked up, his heart pounding.

"We've captured Chan, and we've found the knife that was used to attack her," Soonyoung's voice was steady, businesslike.

"We're going to run an interrogation. Do you want to do it, sunbae?" Soonyoung asked Jeonghan.

"I don't think I can do it, Soonyoung," Jeonghan mumbled, his voice heavy with conflicting emotions. "I might just... I might just kill him before I can even say anything." He continued, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Alright, sunbae. I'll handle it from here. Please send my regards to her," Soonyoung's voice was understanding, supportive. Jeonghan hummed in agreement and nodded, before ending the call and preparing to head to the hospital.

Beomjae was surprised to see Jeonghan's presence. "I told you I'll call you once she's awake," he said, rising from his seat as Jeonghan approached him.

"The culprit has been captured. I think Soonyoung needs you," Jeonghan explained, his voice tinged with urgency. Beomjae nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"He's informed us already. I was about to go once you were here. But, since you're here already, I'll go. These two will stand by here," Beomjae explained, gesturing to the two young officers.

Jeonghan watched Beomjae leave, his heart heavy with a mixture of relief and anxiety. He turned to the officers, gratitude in his eyes. They nodded in understanding, silently affirming their commitment to keeping watch over the room.

As Jeonghan entered your hospital room, he looked at you, still unconscious but fighting to recover. He took your hand in his, a silent promise echoing in his heart - he would be there for you, no matter what.

The soft hum of the hospital machinery provided a backdrop to the tense atmosphere in the room. Jeonghan's gaze lingered on your still form, his heart aching with a mixture of worry and determination. Every shallow rise and fall of your chest was a testament to your resilience, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and filled with unspoken affection. The room seemed to close in around him, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't help but replay the events in his mind, each moment etched with vivid clarity.

The memory of finding you, pale and bleeding, was seared into his consciousness. It was a sight that had threatened to shatter his composure, to drown him in a sea of fear and helplessness. But now, seeing you here, fighting to recover, ignited a fierce determination within him.

As he stood by your bedside, his thoughts turned to the captured assailant, Lee Chan. The mere mention of his name sent a surge of anger coursing through Jeonghan's veins. The thought of facing him in an interrogation room was almost unbearable. He knew he needed to remain composed, to let the law take its course, but the depth of his emotions threatened to consume him.

As your eyelids fluttered open, the soft light filtering through the hospital room's curtains gently greeted your senses. Jeonghan's face, etched with a mixture of relief and worry, came into focus. His eyes sparkled with a renewed hope as he met your gaze.

"You're awake," he breathed, his voice tinged with emotion. He reached for your hand, holding it with a tender grip. "I was so worried."

You managed a weak smile, your voice a fragile whisper. "I'm here, thanks to you."

Before long, Jeonghan was on the phone, urgently dialing for a doctor. They arrived swiftly, their presence a reassuring blend of professionalism and compassion. After a thorough examination, they spoke with a gentle but firm tone, emphasizing the importance of rest and recovery.

"You've shown remarkable strength," the doctor remarked, offering you a small, encouraging smile. "But your body needs time to heal. Pushing too hard too soon could set back your progress."

Jeonghan nodded, his concern for you palpable. "I'll do whatever it takes to make sure they have the time they need."

The doctor's gaze shifted to Jeonghan, a silent acknowledgment of his commitment. "That's good to hear. Keep her stress levels low, ensure she gets plenty of rest, and we'll monitor her closely. We're here to support you both."

As they left the room, Jeonghan settled back by your side, his eyes never straying far from you. "I won't leave you, not for a moment," he vowed, his voice a steady anchor in the midst of uncertainty. "You're my priority, now and always."

In the ensuing days, the hospital room became a cocoon of recovery and gentle care. Jeonghan, a steadfast presence, ensured you were never alone. He read to you, brought you small tokens of comfort, and spoke words of encouragement. The outside world felt distant, as if it could never intrude upon this sanctuary of healing.

"Did you find Chan?" You asked him with a weak voice. Jeonghan nodded solemnly, his gaze steady. "We found him, he's under investigation. We'll make sure he gets what he deserves, so you don't have to worry," he reassured you, his fingers gently running through your hair.

As the weight of the truth settled in, you whispered, "I found out he killed my mom." Your voice carried a mix of intrigue and pain, and Jeonghan, though eager for answers, didn't want to press too hard.

"You can tell me later. Your health is the priority now. You heard what the doctor said, you shouldn't stress yourself," Jeonghan urged, his concern evident in his eyes.

You shook your head softly, determination in your gaze. "I want to tell you now."

"When you asked for help to investigate my mom's case, I already had my suspicions about him. I saw the bloodstain on his shirt that night. When I called him, he claimed he was at the gym, but I knew he wasn't. He's such a perfectionist; he always goes to the gym in the morning."

Jeonghan's brow furrowed in thought. "Why do you think he did that?" His voice was low, giving you the space to share.

You considered the question carefully before speaking. "I assume he was after my mom, since I inherited all my money to her." You paused, your eyes locking with Jeonghan's. "You know my mom," you added, alluding to her penchant for younger men.

Jeonghan's eyes softened with concern as he listened to your heartfelt words. Tears streamed down your face as you poured out your heart. "I thought I could trust him. He was the only person who knew that I only have months left," you confessed, your voice choked with emotion.

Jeonghan's heart ached for you, witnessing the pain etched across your face. He gently wrapped his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry you had to go through this," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy.

As you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence, Jeonghan's mind raced with a mixture of anger towards Chan and a fierce determination to support you. He knew that trust was a fragile thing, and watching it shattered in this way cut deep.

"You deserve so much better than this," he whispered, his words a promise to stand by you, to be the rock you needed in this storm.

He reached out, gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Listen to me," he began, his voice steady and reassuring. "I understand that this is incredibly difficult for you, and I won't pretend to know exactly how you feel. But you are strong, and you've already shown incredible courage in facing this truth."

He paused, his gaze unwavering. "We're in this together, and I'll be here every step of the way. Your health is a priority, and we'll do everything we can to ensure you get the best care possible."

You looked into his eyes, grateful for his unwavering support. "I just... I don't want to be a burden to you," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know that this situation is hard for both of us."

Jeonghan's grip on your face tightened ever so slightly, his eyes filled with determination. "You are not a burden, and you never will be. We face this together, and I'm not going anywhere. You're not alone in this, and we'll find a way through."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch warm and reassuring. "We'll focus on positivity and strength. You're not defined by the circumstances, but by how you face them. And together, we can face anything that comes our way."

His words resonated deep within you, bringing a sense of comfort and resolve. With Jeonghan by your side, you felt a renewed sense of determination to navigate this difficult journey, knowing that his support would be your anchor through it all.

In that tender moment, as his lips met yours, the world seemed to stand still. His touch was gentle, yet it carried the weight of his emotions, a silent promise of unwavering support and love. The connection between you both was palpable, a language of its own that needed no words.

As he cupped your face, his touch was warm and reassuring. It was as if he was trying to convey all the comfort and solace he wished to offer you. In that intimate exchange, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that you were not alone in this journey.

The kiss was a balm to your wounded heart, a reminder that even in the face of pain and uncertainty, there was a love that would endure. It was a testament to the strength of your bond, a declaration that you would face this challenge together.

As you melted into the kiss, a profound sense of gratitude filled your heart. In Jeonghan's arms, you found a sanctuary, a place where you could be vulnerable and find strength. It was a moment that would forever be etched in your memory, a symbol of the unwavering love that would carry you through whatever lay ahead.

The tender moment seemed to stretch, suspended in time, until a voice suddenly cut through the stillness, saying, "Cut." It was the signal that the scene had been perfectly captured.

You and Jeonghan slowly parted, lingering for a moment as you exchanged a silent, knowing glance. There was a shared understanding of the significance of this scene, both in the story and in your own lives.

As the crew bustled around, wrapping up the shoot, you turned to Jeonghan, a soft smile on your lips. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. He returned the smile, his eyes warm with affection. "No, thank you," he replied, his voice just as gentle. "You've been incredible."

As you bowed to every member of the crew on the location shoot, a sense of accomplishment and gratitude filled the air. The bucket of flowers they handed to you was a tangible symbol of the hard work and dedication you and Jeonghan had poured into preparing and shooting the movie.

The director approached both of you, his embrace filled with warmth and appreciation. "I couldn't be more thankful for this," he expressed sincerely.

"The honor is ours to be able to work with you," you replied, touched by his kind words.

Jeonghan nodded in agreement. "It's been such an amazing experience."

The director's eyes twinkled with pride as he looked at both of you. "Your chemistry is undeniable. You're not secretly dating each other, right?" he joked, prompting laughter from all three of you.

After the lighthearted moment, you and Jeonghan headed to your respective rooms to change before heading home. The weight of the past days' work was felt, but it was accompanied by a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. You were both ready for a well-deserved break after the intense and rewarding experience of bringing the story to life on screen. The memories created during this shoot would be cherished forever, a testament to the incredible journey you had shared with the cast and crew.

Yoon Jeonghan: Y/n, do you have time this weekend?

Yoon Jeonghan: How about going to the camping site that you talked about that day?

Yoon Jeonghan: i'll prepare all the stuff and food!

Yoon Jeonghan: what do you think?

#densworld🌼 #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fluff #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x reader #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #svt recs #svt fic

[bobeni]

  ⠀   ⠀   ⠀ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎O23 ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ፧ ‎ ‎EGGS AISLE ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏♡ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎

✶ users! › denji, m!reader.

✶ synopsis! › it could no longer be simply considered a coincidence; with how denji always seemed to pop up at the same time, at the same little store, just to see you.

✶ wrdcnt! › 1,586.

✶ cw’s! › fluff, possible ooc here we go, simp denji, trio stuff in the beginning, this is probably unnecessarily long lmao. i used they/them for the reader for one line, btw.

“Aw crap, we’re out of cereal and milk again! I’ma head out to the store to get some more!” Denji shouted as he zipped past two lazy bodies to the front door, snatching his hoodie off the rack with poorly disguised eagerness.

Aki sighed, looking up from the creased daily newspaper. “Again? That’s the third time this month.” His orbs followed Denji’s haste movements to shrug on the clothing.

The blond barely spared him a glance as he tried to fix his bedhead, “Yeah, yeah, I know, right? It’s bogus how Power keeps eating it all.” He feigned understanding just as said girl squawked at the blame now delivered to her shoulders. “What the fuck? I haven’t even touched the cereal since two weeks ago!” She yelled, mouth full of her breakfast, unfortunately it was just amalgamation of bacon and eggs.

“Ya can’t fool me, Powy, I know you sneak around in the middle of night, scarfing that shit down.” The gobsmacked look on blonde’s face was one Denji could remember for centuries.

“You bi一” as she was prepared to scream her indignation, she was stopped in her tracks by Aki’s agitated groan, followed by Denji’s so-called reassurance.

“Don’t worry, though,” the boy flicked the lock open, stepping an inch outside the apartment with every syllable. “I’ll make sure to replenish your stash, so don’t wait up!” Denji grinned at that last part, officially saying his leave to the both of them, the door narrowly missing his behind with how fast he tried to shut it.

With the boy off and out, Aki’s eyes lingered on the door. But they began to narrow in suspicion, prompting him to rise from the coach and walk into the kitchen for further investigation.

However, his investigation ended as soon as it started. The man found not just one, but several boxes of cereal, moderately filled. As well as the milk, as far back in fridge as it was, half full. This made his face scrunch up in confusion as he shut the fridge and leaned against it to turn his attention to Power一who now had a lap full of Meowy, clearly had to have been ruffled by the morning ruckus and sauntered out of their bedroom.

“Power,” Aki started. She nodded in his direction, still stuffing her face. “We’re still good on breakfast一he’s not just ‘going to the store,’ is he?” He wondered aloud, sighing at the thought of Denji pulling some shit.

“Yes, see!” she jabbed a finger in the air, “He’s up to something. Something... I can assume is very stupid.” Then Power just pets a purring Meowy as Aki shakes his head at it all.

Geez, that was close, Denji thought as he strolled down the sidewalk. It was getting real tiring having to think excuses pertaining to various foods they did or didn’t have. Many apologies and more to his family, but he couldn’t let them know the reason why he had those excuses for where he was going一especially not Power, god, he’d probably never hear the end of it.

Oh, what was the reason exactly?

He has a crush.

That’s right, the reason why he began waking up early in the morning and trying to make sure not a single hair was out of place一well, in his own unique way一was because someone is after Denji’s heart. And he’d so let them take it if they pleased.

One day when it was actually his duty to do some shopping, at this little grocery store a few blocks down from his apartment, is where he met you.

He was only there to gather the items on the short list that Aki handed over to him that morning, but when you stepped up next to him while he was eying two freaky looking fish, and the shy offer for assistance flew out of your mouth, he found himself a bit touched.

“But you don’t even work here, though?” was what he said back then, now eying you.

“Do I have to work here in order to help out some clearly indecisive guy?” The little chuckle that you ended your rebuttal with was unfortunately cute enough that it made his heart jump in his chest. When you leaned over to help him pick the better fish, his heart was absolutely drumming at how close you were and how easily his hand could slip into yours.

He didn’t say a single word of complaint when you offered to help him finish up his shopping; he just let his cheeks burn a bright pink while he trailed behind you with two baskets and hearts for eyes.

After that day, every other week or so he’d pop up at the store, yearning to see you, while also juggling his best attempts to make his appearances look normal and coincidental.

It was a flawless plan in his mind. Every day you two seemed to be getting closer and closer; then soon, he couldn’t deny the hope that lingered.

Even if it should’ve been embarrassing一considering how easily he fell for you after only meeting a handful of times. But he couldn’t really find it in himself to give a fuck.

Denji smiled proudly, maybe he could finally get to do all the things couples do with you.

Meanwhile the blond was gushing, it didn't occur to him that had already arrived at the store until he heard that familiar bell’s jingle giving him the signal.

Then he let his eyes wander, searching the store trying to pick you out of the bustling crowd of shoppers. He stumbled upon right when he almost missed you; you were crouched down by a vending machine, mashing away at the buttons.

With a little bit of pep in his step, he made a b-line for you.

“Good mornin’, [name].” Denji jostled the keys in his pocket when he tried to wave. You looked up at the approach and softly smiled at him. “Hi there, Denji. You doing some shopping again?” you made casual conversation as you were inserting money into the slot. Pink dusted his cheeks as he immediately responded with no, in his head. But in real life he stuck with a shy confirmation and told you that he just needed some cereal.

But as you were prepared to say something else, you were interrupted by two bags of chips spilling out of the bottom.

“Holy shit, what did you do?” Denji was cackling at the surprise you exuded.

“I don’t even fucking know,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up from the ground. “But how perfect is this?” the smile on your face was too warm, too soft, he almost ignored the next words that came out of your mouth.

“One for me, and one for you, Denji.”

You held out a bag for him and he stared in disbelief.

“You’re... gonna share with me?” He hesitantly reached for the bag, awaiting your next answer.

Still smiling you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, “I’ll always split stuff with people I like. Obviously.”

Obviously, you said. You also said that he’s one of the people you like. Obviously.

He was so glad it was obvious to you because he clearly missed a chapter or two一but he didn’t care, this was what he was hoping for the entire time. Maybe he’s got it.

“[Name]...” Denji called as you were already munching on your bag of chips. You immediately caught his eye, humming as you wait for the moment the boy was ready to speak.

“I... I just want ya to know that I really, really like you.” The blond laid his heart out on the table. “And I wanna date you and一nd take you out someday...?” He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the chatter of civilians the longer you kept quiet. And he was actually so ready to bolt out of the store right about now if this goes down a road he hadn’t hoped for.

But there you go, exceeding his expectations again.

“I know,” is what you said.

Denji’s eyes snapped open at that and you laughed at the shock written all over his face.

“You know? Wha一Whaddya mean you knew?” Because of the shock, Denji’s voice also was getting louder so you took his hand and led him outside to avoid any suspicious eyes. Though you were laughing along the way, Denji was angry pouting as he tried to shush you.

Calming down a bit, you stuttered out apologies before confessing. “I’m sorry, Denji, but it’s not like you tried to hide it or anything一” his mouth fell open. “I coulda sworn I was being subtle!” That was one of his most natural build ups for a confession, like, ever.

“You have the subtlety of a puppy,” you covered your face as you snort. “But that’s okay because it’s one of the things I like about you.” He flushed red underneath your teasing gaze.

“So... ya really do like me then?” Denji didn’t take his eyes off of you this time. This new smile of yours formed cute little crinkles around your eyes and he thinks it’s one of his favorites.

“If I say yes, would you be my boyfriend?” The sly question had Denji’s heart doing flips. He’d love nothing more than to wear the title of your boyfriend and to have you as his.

So he answered with a kiss.

✶ notes! › i actually completed this holy mf shit i did not have hope. i still think it’s literally too long for my original plan but whatever i’m kinda happy with what i came up with.

#✧ ˖ ⠀ sin’s joint . ❜ #i. ֺ ۪ 𝅄 ▸ ⠀ the sky just seems so blue . ❜ #ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ csm. #ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ denji. #csm x male reader #chainsaw man x male reader #denji x male reader #csm x black!reader #chainsaw man x black!reader #male reader #black male reader #male reader insert #x male reader

[legobowl]

MORE ART I DIDNT POST HERE 🙏🐒

The last art is fanart for @bismuthfool’s hum!Wukong AU, I LOVE IT SO MUCH BRO YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDAJD

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanart #brainrot #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid fanart #cereal stash

[salmonight]

Wait.. SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE A CHILD!?

Bruce in his usual morning zombie state trugged down to the kitchen like he did everyday. Opening the door he was greeted by the smell of cooking breakfast and an overly cheery squeeky voice.

"Hey dad we are out of cereal! Don't u happen to have any stashed away?"

"No sorry chum ran out a few days ago" Bruce answered on autopilot before his mind had a chance to catch up. 'Wait just a minute!' he snapped his head towards the origin of the voice blinking a few times but the whole ass child did *not* disappear so no it was not a hallucination (probably). 'Where did he come from!?'

"Dad are you good?"

"Uh yes chum just tired" Bruce answered not letting his confusion bled into his voice (too much). Deciding the best way was to clear up the confusion is to ask the source of it he spoke

"So chum since when exactly did i have you?" the child's eyes narrowed in an eeriely familiar way as suspicion bled into their expression as they continued to dissect Bruce with their eyes.

"Since like two years ago." They stoped for a few moments scrutinizing Bruce before continuing "Did you hit your head on patrol last night or something?" and that was enough iternal crisis for the morning Bruce decided. It was too early for this (it was 11 am) this will be future Bruce's problem (literally) so he just sat down next to the child and started to slowly sip his morning coffee.

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

So no Bruce doesn't have amnesia baby dick (10) is either back in the past or in another universe. Neither noticed the switch yet. Alfred did. He knows bruce did not have or adopt a child but decided to just lean back and watch it all play out. Meanwhile bruce panicing about how the hell could he forget a whole ass child!? So he is franatically checking himself for head injuries (even tho he doesn't remember getting any recently, drugs, posions and magic spells. Dick is just living his best life already realising what happened but decided watching Bruce freak out is hilarious.

#dc prompt #batfamily prompt #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #Batfam #batfam shenanigans #time travel #dimension travel

[replaycamera2]

Midnight Snacks with Redacted Characters

• For all the grief he gives Angel for it, David does keep a single pack of instant ramen on standby in a location he refuses to disclose. He’ll dress it up a bit with a soft boiled egg, some frozen veggies, tofu, leftover meat, whatever he can find.

• Asher isn’t much of a cook, but if Baaabe is hungry in the middle of the night he loves to make some Nutella on toast.

• Milo doesn’t like waking up in the middle of the night as he’s super groggy, but if he and Sweetheart are hungry he’ll throw together some yogurt, berries, and granola before flopping back down.

• Vincent and Lovely don’t need sleep or human food anymore, but occasionally they both get a hankering for a midnight McDonald’s run. They always get it to go and eat outside.

• Sam constantly has to deal with Darlin’ rummaging through the pantry in the middle of the night like a damn raccoon. He won’t let them gorge themselves on chips, instead making them a packet of instant oatmeal before dragging their nocturnal ass back to bed.

• Gavin will never say no to a late-night 7/11 run, though in the interest of keeping Freelancer alive during the day, he’ll rift there himself and come back with whatever snacks they want (provided they’re not too caffeine/sugar laced).

• Avior loves cuddling Starlight throughout the night, content to stay awake and watch them sleep. If they wake up hungry, he’ll magic up some scrambled eggs on toast before cuddling them back down and using just the tiniest bit of dreamwalking magic to help them get back to sleep.

• Lasko tries to make sure he’s not hungry before bed but if he or his partner wake up hungry he’ll make a big mug of hot chocolate (or chocolate milk).

• Hux has a seemingly bottomless supply of granola bars that he keeps for snacks. He keeps a box in his nightstand as well, “Just in case.”

• Damien has a horrific habit of making a protein shake if he’s hungry in the middle of the night. Hux is trying to help him break it.

• Ollie has an undying love for leftover midnight pizza. He swears up and down midnight pizza hits different in a Michelin star way; Babe is convinced it’s the sleep deprived delirium talking.

• Aaron hates getting woken up by Smartass in the middle of the night so they go ninja-mode lifting themselves off his chest. They’ll usually just munch on some dry cereal right out the box before heading back to bed. Aaron secretly does the same thing and has yet to be caught drinking milk straight from the carton.

• Ivan likes having chai and cookies if he and Baby are hungry in the middle of the night. He’s a firm believer that warm drinks and cuddles make a happy, sleepy Baby.

• Elliott is that bitch who makes an entire box poptarts at 1AM. He’s not sorry and he is sharing.

• James likes to have apples and peanut butter for a late night snack. He tries not to eat anything too heavy that’ll slow him down in the morning.

• Anton loves some warm pumpkin soup for a midnight snack. It’s always homemade and he always keeps a little on standby just in case his partner needs it.

• Guy will gorge himself on candy in the middle of the night. Honey keeps finding his stashes but Guy just keeps finding new places to hide his Sour Patch Kids. Honey’d check for secret compartments in the drawers if they thought Guy had the handyman-ness for it.

#redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #david shaw #redacted asmr #milo greer #asher talbot #lasko moore #redacted huxley #redacted damien #vincent solaire #sam collins #redacted gavin #redacted aaron #redacted elliott #redacted avior #redacted ollie #redacted ivan #redacted anton #redacted guy

[starfellforyou]

– 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚? ♡

tags: genshin boys x fem!reader, flatmates au

premise: in which you ask him to get you a snack from the fridge, but don’t specify what kind

characters: diluc, xiao, itto, kazuha, childe, ayato

genre: fluff

diluc, who brings you a dark chocolate bar. he didn’t look thrilled at the idea of having to pause his game of final fantasy 7 just to get you a snack from the fridge, even telling you to “go get it yourself” at first, but the disappointment on your face sent him off - while rolling his eyes and sighing, of course - to begrudgingly open the fridge and grab the first snack he set his eyes upon.

xiao, who brings you a matcha bun (after heating it up in the oven). he was initially puzzled at your request - you don’t usually ask him to do things for you - but got up from the sofa he was sitting at while watching avatar: tla anyway. he took one look at the fluffy matcha bun lying untouched in the fridge and decided that it would make a decent snack for a sweet-toothed maniac like you, grabbing a plate of cold almond tofu for himself while he was at it.

itto, who brought you a bowl of milk and cereal. he was actually willing to pause his game of mario kart 8 on the switch (he came in last, for the record) to go fetch you an elaborate treat that was both fun and traditional; much like everything that itto was himself. he ended up handing you a colorful bowl of lucky charms drenched in chilled hokkaido milk - the perfect snack for a lazy sunday afternoon.

kazuha, who brought you a couple of ripe, juicy oranges to share. he’d just been to the market earlier that day and was more than willing to get up to let you have a taste. he had a habit of sharing the fruits he purchased at the weekly harvest festivals with you, but had tragically forgotten about them when he saw your face that morning. you sit and enjoy the sweet, tender oranges while watching an episode of horimiya on the couch.

childe, who brought you a strawberry smoothie. he looked unwilling to pause riverdale (which he claimed he was only watching “ironically”) at first, but got up nevertheless to make you a strawberry smoothie with the blender he’d mysteriously acquired a few days ago. how he’d gotten his hands on that blender - you may never know.

ayato, who brings you a tomato salad. a sucker for nutrition, you often catch him stashing all kinds of salad ingredients in the fridge without warning, but you can’t deny it’s one of the best salads you’ve had in a while. if there’s anything that man can’t do - it’s make a bad salad. you both chomp down on the delightful tomatoes in front of you as he resumes reading the naver webtoon on his phone.

a/n: aka genshin boys and their various forms of pop culture entertainment

✧ starfellforyou

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin hcs #genshin headcanons #genshin x y/n #xiao x reader #ayato x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #itto x reader #xiao #kamisato ayato #diluc ragnvindr #childe #kaeya #arataki itto #itto #diluc #tartaglia #ayato #tartaglia x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin imagines

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 11: Love is... Saving the last bite for them (Prompt by @acasualcrossfade)

wc: 586 | Rated: G | cw: Food, Eating

Tags: Clean-Up After a Party, Bickering, Steve's House, The Party Being Total Shits (they are not present, but it's the premise)

The Clean-Up Crew

Eddie looks over the mess atop the Harrington’s kitchen counter and sighs.

The place is destroyed – littered with paper plates and solo cups (that were sourced from god knows where), food leftovers, crumbs and overall rubbish. All the aftermath of an impromptu ‘pool party’, pool noodles and all, courtesy of a pack of ravenous and uninvited teen gremlins.

Their lazy Sunday afternoon in the height of an Indiana summer wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Nor did Eddie think he and Steve would be spending their Date Night acting as a clean-up crew. He guesses he should count himself lucky that the little shits even decided to leave – something about Mike having a haul of candy stashed away in his dank basement.

“Can you at least help me if you are gonna start complaining?”

His eyes snap from a melted blob of something-chocolate to find a very disgruntled, Steve glaring back. He’s wearing an apron. One that is surely his mother’s considering the red tartan-like pattern and frills.

“I didn’t say anything!” Eddie defends, stifling a giggle as Steve wildly gestures to the bench as he sports a yellow pair of rubber gloves.

“Just…” Steve sighs, clearly overwhelmed by the volume of mess, “Help me now and then we can eat.”

Eddie frowns and picks up a nearby box of cereal – his Honeycombs Steve adds to his grocery list especially for him. He upends it and sure enough, it’s empty.

He tosses it to the side and grits his teeth.

“And what are we supposed to eat, exactly?” he spits.

Steve smirks to himself, wipes his gloves on his apron and heads – nay, struts – to the refrigerator.

“Dustin bought over a goddamn cake if you can believe it,” he explains, opening the door and disappearing behind it.

And just as quickly he pops back into view, holding up a delicate white dinner plate in victory.

“They are such little shits,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief.

He is certain the fridge is just as barren as the rest of the kitchen, so there’s simply no way Steve could have possibly had an easy time hiding the treat.

“They are the worst,” Steve agrees, setting the plate down between them and ripping off the saran wrap, “But Henderson has a good taste in all things cake.”

He snaps off a glove and tosses it onto the floor, wiggling his brows as he does so.

Eddie recoils, “Don’t talk about Henderson while you make goo-goo eyes at me!”

Steve lifts the plate into his purview and goddamn it smells like fudgy, chocolate heaven. He could kiss Steve stupid but... He is just so annoyed that those damn entitled kids, who think nothing of treating Steve’s house as their own personal Club Med.

“Did they really go to Melvad’s on the way here?” he wonders, scrunching his nose.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles.

“And then biked all the way across town with party food and bottles of soda?”

He breaks off a piece of cake with his fingers and all but shoves it into his mouth. He groans, smacking his lips (it tastes just as good as it looks) and greedily licks his fingers.

Steve nods, “And somehow Sinclair hauled over a lifetime supply of Coke cans too.”

“And the pool noodles?” he asks, spittling cake as he dives in for more.

But Steve smacks his hand away.

“After clean up,” he laughs, “Besides, I meant for us to share.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddielovemonth #tw food #tw eating #food mention

[muertawrites]

eddie munson and food

this man lives on cup noodles and cereal. he doesn't know what a vegetable is and thinks black pepper is a fancy spice. the most complicated things he knows how to make are grilled cheese and kraft dinner (she says like she's not american), and those are rare. if you can cook or like to cook, though, he'll eat whatever you serve him - he's really not as picky as he seems.

grocery shopping with him is always an adventure. it's almost like shopping with a kid; if he had his way, your weekly meals would consist of doritos and pizza rolls. you're constantly having to tell him to put things back, keeping an eye on the cart to make sure he doesn't sneak in as much junk food as he can. he's also super chaotic in a grocery store - hanging off the end of the cart while you push it, drumming his knuckles on everything he passes, kicking random boxes off the shelves to see if he can catch them before they hit the floor.

"can you be chill for like five seconds?" you plead as a fifth box of instant mashed potatoes smacks down at his feet.

"no. absolutely not."

asking him to get things for you to keep him occupied is also a disaster.

"baby, we need lettuce."

"... yeah?"

"you brought me spinach."

"it's green and leafy. it's lettuce."

he thinks the fact that you can make things from scratch, no matter what it is or how simple the process, is magic. he'll lean over the counter and just watch you cook, never absorbing anything but always amazed by your ability. even if you can only make something as elaborate as spaghetti with canned sauce, it's like a gourmet meal to him.

if there are any comfort or ethnic foods you make often, he wants to hear all about them; they're also his favorites, purely because they're yours and he loves listening to you talk about them.

for the hispanic babes: he's mesmerized by tortillas. will hover in the kitchen just to watch you make them.

"so that's how you're so friggin strong. rolling those things out and making them your bitch."

"you flip those things with your hands? babe, that's so fuckin metal!"

(i love making tortillas from scratch store bought tortillas ain't shit)

he's a habitual stealer of your food - anything you have, he'll sneak a bite or a sip of it, no matter what he has to eat. once he finishes his fries, he'll take a couple of yours. he regularly leans over your shoulder to drink from your straw. if he comes home and you're already eating dinner, he'll grab a fork or a spoon and poke it into your dish instead of getting his own; chinese and indian food are common in your house because of this.

was surprised to find out there was more than one kind of cheese.

his favorite thing to cook for you is butter noodles. if you're feeling lazy or are a little short on cash, he'll pop open two packs of instant ramen and slather the plain noodles in butter and black pepper. bone apple teeth.

you help him make baked goods for his side business. he loves everything you bake (if you bake), and whether you like to partake in the ganja or not, he appreciates you taking the extra time to add it to his favorite recipes.

(this is just me projecting) it actually started because you don't smoke. you're sensitive to pot and get really bad paranoia and anxiety, even from a contact high. eddie, being the loving and protective man he is, refuses to smoke in the house / apartment / trailer / whatever because of this. you felt bad in winter when he had to suffer the cold, so you did a little research and figured out how to baste some of his stash in butter to add to cookies and brownies. he proposed to you after taking the first bite (and was actually kind of serious about it).

he started sharing your special baked goods with some of his more well-liked clients just because he was so proud of you and wanted to show off your skill, but they became super popular. now you make batches just for him to sell from time to time; they're regularly gone within a day.

hates fish; it makes him nauseous. big fan of red licorice.

likes to feed you. instead of offering you things to try, he'll hold his hand or fork / spoon up to your lips for you to bite from. gets a little turned on when his fingers "accidentally" slip into your mouth. loves it when you lick things off his fingers.

will sometimes belch in your face just to gross you out and annoy you. he thinks the way you scrunch your face up when he does it is cute. always kisses your nose immediately after. he's a little shit.

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #can't believe this fictional man is my literal boyfriend at this point

[oleander-nin]

Birthday(ROTTMNT Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: This was supposed to be everyone equally, but Leo ended up stealing the focus and I just went with it. Oops. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: 'forgotten birthday', surprise party

Words: 1264

Summary: The turtles rush to set up a party for you

Leo scrolls through his phone as he chews on the cereal he poured himself, the early morning chill still in the air. He hadn’t meant to wake up this early, but his mind was buzzing with thoughts of a forgotten fact he needed to know. After seeing the calendar in Raph’s room, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. Today was important, but he couldn’t figure out why. Leo sighs in defeat, putting his phone down so he could pick up the bowl and drain the last of the milk, wiping the liquid mustache from his upper ‘lip’ when he was done. His phone buzzes on the table, an alert from his calendar popping up. Leo picks up the phone and reads it slowly, his mystery solved. It was your birthday.

Leo nearly slaps himself, feeling a bit miffed that’s what he forgot. Sitting up in the dark of the kitchen now, he stares at the notification in slight disbelief. He didn’t have anything planned. The date had blown over his head, and now he was left with nothing. Leo chews on his cheek, thinking. Your parents weren’t in New York, and you hadn’t mentioned flying out to see them anytime soon, so he could only assume that they weren’t throwing you some party that would give him some time to plan. Leo taps his phone against his chin, groaning. He didn’t even know what to get you, if anything at all.

Leo grumbles as he stands up from his place at the table, putting his bowl in the sink and slowly washing it as he tries to think of what to do. He didn’t have a gift, and he doubted his brothers knew about your birthday either since no one mentioned it. As he thinks it through, Leo puts away the bowl he was using and leans against the counter, trying to come up with a last minute game plan. It was early, and it would be easy enough to get you a present considering his portals and the money he had stashed away. What to get you wasn’t difficult either, considering you weren’t the most silent when you found things you were fond of. He could get you another plant, probably some fancy flower or succulent. Even if you already have that variety, you’d be ecstatic to get more.

Leo looks into the dim lighting of the lair, contemplating. He didn’t want to just give you a present and a happy birthday. Despite you most likely never knowing he forgot, he still felt like he had to make it up to you. If not for his calendar, he’d have forgotten entirely. You needed something grand to make up for his hidden lapse in memory.

Leo tries to think about what he could do as he walks back to his room, his mind going over the possibilities. He could get his brothers to help him throw you a party at the lair, but it was a huge mess. They hadn’t had a cleanup day in a few months now, and everything was trashed. Even if they cleaned from now to late tonight, they still wouldn’t be done.

Most venues were off limits considering their situation, and he doubted you would be happy if they celebrated your birthday in heavy disguises. Leo looks around the living room as he passes through, hoping for some inspiration. He needed this to go perfect for you. His dark eyes land on a pizza box laying on the floor, Hueso’s face and the restaurant's name plastered on the top. Leo grins, stopping in his tracks as he realizes the perfect place to host the party.

Leo dials Hueso’s number as he goes back into his room, negotiating the restaurant’s venue to hold the party. 2 promised favors and thirty minutes later, Leo jumps for joy at the confirmation. Per the agreement, it would have to be after closing so Hueso doesn’t have to shut down his restaurant for this, and Leo was happy to oblige. The Run of the Mill was only open until ten anyways, so it wasn’t a huge deal. The party would go at ten-thirty, with thirty minutes to set up everything they wanted. Leo felt giddy at the news, knowing his plan was slowly coming together. He’d make it up to you, whether you knew or not. Leo flops down on his bed, scrolling through his phone and texting April the plan, letting her know not to tell you. She doesn’t respond, which Leo expects considering how early it was. Feeling lighter and a lot more tired, Leo sets down his phone and lets his head hit the pillow, a smile on his face as he finally gets some rest.

***

Hueso watches Leo as he jitters around, the Hamato’s and their friends all adding the final details to the restaurant's decorations. Balloons touched the ceiling, and banners were spread out in odd places, most of their designs courtesy of Michelangelo. The different streamers and hanging decorations made Leo relieved with how the party was being set up. Everything was going smoothly so far, all they had to do was wait for you to show up.

Leo looks at the time, counting down the seconds in his head. They had around three minutes before you were supposed to arrive. Leo can hear Donnie’s alarm go off, his head turning to look at his wide-eyed brother.

“Flick the lights!” Donnie calls, grabbing Mikey to go and hide under one of the tables together. The lights dim, Hueso standing next to them  so he could turn them back on as soon as you came in. Leo joins Raph and April under a table, watching as his father, Draxum, and the Jones’ hide under another.

Seconds go by in silence, the time dragging on and making it seem like hours. Everyone holds their breath as the wall glows blue and swirls around, you finally stepping out into the darkness. You squint, confusion showing through the dimness of the restaurant before Hueso flips the lights back on and everyone jumps out.

“Happy birthday!” Everyone screams in chorus, making you yelp from the surprise. You hold your hand over your heart as you double over laughing, your hands shaking as you pat your knees. Mikey rushes over to pull you into a hug, jumping up and down with you while you both laugh.

“You made it!” He squeals, letting you mostly go, his hold shifting from your full body to your wrist. He drags you over to the table set up with food, talking your ear off while hogging you from everyone else. Well wishes and “Happy Birthday’s” get passed around to you, the light in your eyes growing as you seem to fall right into the celebration. Leo smiles while watching you with his family and friends, your appreciation for the party shown through your own grin. He felt proud, knowing the party, although fast tracked, was something you were enjoying.

Leo pushes himself off the wall, walking into the cluster of people so he could talk to you too. It was a celebration, and staring at you wouldn’t do. The group easily expands to let him in, Leo quickly filing into his usual place beside you. His hand finds yours and you squeeze it softly, letting him know you knew he was there despite you locked conversation with Donnie.

Leo’s smile widens as he sees your bright face, his chest tightening in joy. Yeah, he did good. You were going to have a great birthday.

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