i did it when i was so sleepy

i did not expect that to happen so soon, but im so grateful and im also super tired and sleepy right now bc i woke up early that’s why a shit celebration picture. but thank you thank you so so much.

for now i really do not have time to work on a raffle, but when i set up everything about my apartment i’ll for sure make it happen.

i’ll reblog it again so more people can participate!! 

Massages

4.2k of smut, I’m not even sorry

‘OUCH! Stop, st- STOP IT PANSY! Argh, fuck, I think I broke a rib.’ Draco sat down on his bed, a painful expression on his face which was paler than usual.

‘You’re an ungrateful bastard’ Pansy flopped beside him, pouting ‘the whole Slytherin house knows I’m the best on giving massage’

‘Well, I better look for someone from other houses then’ Draco made another pained expression as he got up. ‘I can’t, I can’t walk. Argh, fuck!’ He laid down slowly. Pansy only stared at him from the door, the look on her a face a mixture of pity and remorse.

‘I’ll get someone. Even though you were a little bitch just now.’ She glared at him before leaving.

It’d started three days before then. He was getting ready on Wednesday morning to practice quidditch. Everything was fine when he bent down to tie his shoelaces, but the second he straightened his back an acute pain hit him on his hips. It’d gotten worse the past two days to the point now he couldn’t even sit properly without feeling it.

He laid there, thinking maybe he would have to look for Madam Pomfrey after all. But fuck, those potions always messed up with his stomach, he’d do anything to avoid taking them even if it meant asking for someone he didn’t know to give him a massage. Pansy had told him she knew what she was doing but at the end it’d only worsened it.

***

‘It’s for a friend, you see. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment and I was hoping you knew someone good on giving massages’ Pansy flopped down on a chair at the eighth year common room.

‘Well,’ Hermione started, closing her arithmancy book. 'I do, but… who exactly is this friend of yours?’ She gave Pansy a look that could be translated as 'Are-we-talking-about-who-i-think-we-are-talking-about?’

'Draco’ Pansy sighed, predicting the other’s answer. 'But… I swear he’ll behave. And you owe me this one, right? After I brought you those French hair products’ Pansy smirked.

'You really are a Slytherin’ Hermione sighed 'but they were actually amazing. I’ll help you with this one but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well.’

Pansy gave her a quick hug, grinning. 'Who is it then?’

'Harry’ Hermione murmured to herself.

Pansy gasped and then laughed until tears were streaming down her face.

'Holy. Shit. Are you sure he’ll want to do it?’

Hermione gave her a little smile.

'He owes he a favor’

Pansy’s giggling was catching the attention of everyone around them.

'Who’s the Slytherin one now?’

***

'Tell me how amazing I am’

The girl bursted inside his dorm an hour after she’d left to find Draco in the same position.

'You found someone?’ He got up, regretting the decision immediately. 'Ah, shit! Are they outside? Please tell me they’re outside’

'They’ll be here in ten’ Pany sat by his side and poked his cheek 'go on, tell me how amazing I am’

'You’re amazing’ he grunted. When he looked at his friend, though, she wasn’t paying attention, busy with a little pink bag Draco hadn’t noticed she’d brought before. 'What-’

'Oils. For the massage’ she smirked and Draco felt blood going to his cheeks.

'There’s no need for that’

'They have properties. They could help’ she started to take the little flasks with different colors out of the bag and pile them on Draco’s bed.

A light knock on the door told them Pansy’s friends had arrived.

'C'mon in!’

'I just don’t understand why… No. No fucking way.’

'Harry, please, Pansy said-’

'What the actual fuck, Pansy!’ Draco started talking at the same time Hermione tried to stop Harry from leaving the room. 'This is… ah, shit shit- ARGH!’ Draco’s attempt to get up brought back the striking pain on his lower back and he felt his knees failing. The next second he was tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. Tears came uninvited to his eyes and he bit his lips as hard as he could to stop from screaming.

Draco didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to help him get up. A firm hand went on the underside of his thigh as the other grabbed his shoulder firmly, pushing him to his feet just long enough for him to get to his bed. When he collapsed on his bed, flushed cheeks and tears still streaming down his face, everything he could think about was that maybe his time had come. Die would be better than suffer so much humiliation in front of Saint Potter, who was panting by his side.

Harry stared down at the boy in front of him, Malfoy’s face twisted in an ugly expression. It was like he was trying to sneer at Harry but the pain was too much even for that. Harry sighed and turned to see he was left alone in the room with an incapacitated Malfoy. Well, shit, that was just great. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? Peace, it was all he was asking for after everything. But, oh no, he had to have asked Hermione for help with his potions homework the week before, and now he owed her this. Harry wouldn’t have denied giving a massage to any of his friends if they’d asked him. He’d helped Hermione, Ginny and even Luna in the past. But Malfoy? Give Malfoy a massage, after everything, almost sounded funny.

Except it wasn’t because Harry had a hero complex and he knew Malfoy wouldn’t ask for such a thing if he wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t even Malfoy who came looking for Hermione, it was Pansy, which meant he probably was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t walk, from what Harry could see.

Small flasks caught his attention, all of them pilled up beside Malfoy.

'What’s this?’ He grabbed one and put it against the light. The liquid inside was thicker than water.

'Oils. Pansy brought them. She said they could help. Not like you need to know this anyway since you won’t use them.’ Malfoy spoke through gritted teeth, facing the wall opposite to where Harry stood. So he was expecting him to leave, that cocky bastard.

'Take off your shirt then’ Harry levitated all the tiny flasks to the ground and picked up one randomly. When he opened it the smell of cinnamon filled the room. Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone insane.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked slowly.

'Well, maybe a massage since that’s what Hermione asked me to do and I can’t have a fucking moment of peace in this castle. And since you seem to be unable to even walk I advise you shut the fuck up and take off your shirt so I can see what’s wrong and finish in time for dinner’ Harry looked up to find Malfoy gaping at him.

'Do you even-’

'Yes, I do know how to do it, you prick. And I’m using this one, so take off your shirt’ Harry signaled to the open flask in his hands as he sat down on the far end of the bed.

He didn’t quite know how the oil would help since he’d never used them when he gave massages before. He liked the smell of it, that was all.

Malfoy struggled to sit down. He undid his tie, opened every button and started to take it off, really slowly trying not to move too much, wincing everytime he did. He folded his shirt and put it on the chair beside the bed. Harry couldn’t help staring at the huge scars on his chest he knew he was responsible for. Guilt settled on his stomach as he tore his gaze away.

'Lay down on your stomach’ Harry got up and sat beside Malfoy’s body as close as he could without brushing their thighs. It was ridiculous, he knew, since he would be touching him quite soon. Malfoy did as he was told and stilled, realising what that meant.

And what it meant was that, like that, he was completely vulnerable. He turned his face to Potter’s side and searched the other boy’s face for any sign of danger but all he could see was a frown as Harry dripped the oil in his fingers. Draco felt his cheeks heat up for some reason he didn’t understand.

'I’m going to start’ Potter’s voice was low when he spoke. Before Draco could say anything Potter’s hands were on his shoulders, placed at the same distance from the centre of his back. They were warmer than Draco’s skin, soft and sticky with oil. His breath got stuck on his throat  when Potter squeezed and, even though his lower back still hurt, Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He exaled, relaxing into the matress.

Harry maintained the rhythm for a while, squeazing and releasing Malfoy’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing small circles on the other’s neck as he did. Harry, then, started to let his hands go lower, maintaining the pressing of his thumbs as he did until he reached the high of Malfoy’s kidneys. He stopped there to smear his hands with more oil.

'Where did the pain start?’ Harry found his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

'Hm… my hips’ Malfoy sounded sleepy when he spoke. He was so relaxed Harry had to hold back a giggle. He must really be great at giving massage if it meant even Malfoy was enjoying it.

He stopped shortly.

'Your hips?’ Shit, he wasn’t expecting that. 'Er… okay. I’ll- I’ll need you to lower you trousers a bit.  

'What?’ Draco opened his eyes, snapping out of his daze. What did Potter just say?

'So I can reach your hips. I can’t do much with them in the way’ he said slowly, almost like he expected Draco to start yelling at him.

'So you want me to take off my pants?’ Draco couldn’s believe what the fuck was going on.

'No! Just- Just open it, okay? I can do the rest…’ Draco stopped for a second. He reached for his buttons, opened them and laid down again. He turned his face the other way since he was pretty sure he was blushing. Shit, Potter better know what he was doing.

Harry exhaled gradually. He most definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Well, he did, but he shouldn         ’t be doing this. He should’ve stopped, told Malfoy to go look for Pomfrey and got out of there.

Instead he placed his hands on Malfoy’s lower back again. He rubbed his thumbs in circles there, with less pressure this time, and started to press lower as he did. He reached his trousers but since the buttons were open it hang loose on Malfoy’s hips. Harry let his thumbs go under the waist and Malfoy froze.

Harry exhaled again. 'This will probably hurt but if it doesn’t work I’ll know what I have to do, okay?’ He pulled his trousers lower until he could see the other’s boxers. They were black, just like his trousers. Harry could see the fine blond hair that covered his lower back was up.

'Just don’t break my bones’ His tone was sarcastic.

Harry had his weigh on one knee which was pressed against the matress, both hands on Malfoy’s hips.

'Inhale’ Harry instructed. 'Hold’ Malfoy did as he was told.

'Exhale’ he pushed all his weight on his hands as quickly as he could. Malfoy screamed and Harry cursed. They were panting, Malfoy still too shocked to say anything.

'It won’t work, not like this’ Harry got off the bed to take off his shoes. When he looked back Malfoy was staring at him with a strange expression on his face, fear mixed with something else. Was it anticipation?

'This will work’ Harry got on the bed again and before malfoy could say anything he passed one of his legs over the blond’s body, straddling him. Harry sat on Malfoys thighs, trapping him so he couldn’t turn around.

'WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?’ Malfoy tried to free himself but Harry pinned both Draco’s hands above his head in a strong grip.

'I’m telling you this will work! Stop fidgeting and shut up!’

But focusing on Potter’s words was hard since all he could sense was the warmth and pressure on his thighs, so close to his ass. He’d never felt anything like that before, something disturbingly intimate and his whole body was reacting as if it was. He closed his eyes, cursing inside his head as blood rushed into his cock. Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be…

'Inhale’ Potter’s words resonated closer to his ear than before. He shivered, inhaling as deep as he could. 'You need to relax’ Potter’s voice came out hoarse, his thumbs still tracing circles on his hips. Draco shuddered but felt his shoulders lose tension again.

'Inhale’, Harry repetead. 'Hold’ And Draco did.

Potter shifted on his thighs and Draco almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

'Exhale’ he did it again, placing all his weight in his hands, his thighs pressing hard against Malfoy’s as he did. A loud crack made Harry smile and Draco scream.

And then Malfoy let out a loud moan and Harry lost his train of thought.

Suddenly all the blood in his brain was going down, making his pants too tight. His ears felt like they were full of water when he heard Malfoy hum against the pillow.

'It worked’ Draco breathed, lifting his hips a bit to check if the pain was still there. The motion caused his ass to rub against something hard.

Draco gasped.

Harry moaned low.

Draco’s hips rose up again, higher, rubbing harder against what he knew was Potter and fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. And then Potter pressed down, literally pressed against Draco’s ass so he could feel it, the whole length even through the fabric. Potter was hard, really hard and Draco felt his own cock twitching at that.

Draco moaned, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears. He should go, he knew he should, but Malfoy was panting, and lifting that roundy ass for him, to rub against him, and Harry saw his face when he turned his head to the side. His cheeks were flushed and lips parted.

Harry pressed again, leaning forward until his mouth was just above Malfoy’s left ear.

'Do you want me to go?’ He needed to be sure, to be certain he wasn’t imagining all that.

Malfoy gasped, his eyes tightly shut. 'No’ He lifted his arm, grabbing Harry’s thigh and craving his nails on it. Harry bit his earlobe, went for his jaw and started sucking there.

Draco’s cock was throbbing beneath him, so hard he was sure he might faint any second.

The next minute the pressure against his ass was gone making a small cry escape his lips. Fuck fuck, Potter must have come to his senses before he did…

His pants were suddenly yanked down to his knees, his boxers with them. The sudden movement ccreating friction against his cock, now leaking on the matress. Draco was sure he couldn’t blush any harder but it didn’t stop him from moaning when hands grabbed his arse cheeks. How come he didn’t know he could get pleasure from there? Potter’s hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, scratching the soft skin.

Harry opened his cheeks, exposing his hole and run his thumb there tentatively.

'Ah- ha fuck…’ Draco buried his face in the pillow again. This wasn’t right, this was so fucking wrong, what was he doing moaning for…

'I wanna eat you up’ Harry didn’t mean to let the words escape his lips. His gaze was fixed on Malfoy’s pink hole and when it contracted under his thumb the thought of licking there, fucking him with his tongue, assaulted his mind immediately. Malfoy shivered under him.

'Wh-What are you saying?’ the tips of his ears were even redder from where Harry could see them.

Harry got off of Malfoy’s thighs and pushed them apart. He grabbed Malfoy’s hips again, pulling his ass up a bit. He could see the blond’s cock was hard and swollen, rubbing against the matress. Harry got on his elbows, squeezed Draco’s arse again and bit the already marked skin.

Draco gasped, his head jerking to the side so he could get a glimpse of Potter between his legs. Potter was sucking him at the spot he’d bitten before, his hands massaging the place where his thighs met his ass. He run his fingers there, grabbed his arse cheeks and pulled them apart. Draco drew a sharp breath.

He could hear Harry fidgeting with his own pants followed by the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Draco waved his hand towards the door, a click signalling it was now locked. He couldn’t even begin to think what would happen if anyone decided to come in.

Draco felt something wet, warm and firm press against his hole.

'Fuck fuck, you can’t- ah… ahhhh P-Potter this is…’ he gave a choking moan when Harry began to lick him relentlessly, his own moans reverberating in Draco’s skin.

Harry licked, savoured until his tongue got past the tight ring, and then he was fucking Draco, fucking him with wet and hot thrusts of his tongue. Draco kept pushing  back, gasping as he did, completely out of control.

Harry had never done that before but the second he had laid eyes on Draco’s ass, naked before him all he could thing about was opening him, filing him up to get all those delicious sounds out of him.

Draco moaned, and moaned, louder each time. The words that came out of his mouth were incoherent, interrupted by sharp intakes of air.

'Yes… This- fuck Potter… I-deep-deeper’

Deeper, he wanted it deeper. Harry grasped the tiny flask he’d left on the ground and smeared his fingers with the oil again. He retreated his tongue earning a whimper from Malfoy that turned into a sob the second Harry’s middle finger replaced his tongue, getting in smoothly. Draco gasped, shivering uncontrollably and Harry just stayed there, mouth hanging open at the view. His finger disappeared and reappeared, Malfoy sucking him in while rutting against the matress. Harry curled his finger experimentally getting Malfoy to jolt and scream, throwing his head back. Harry caressed his thigh marked with purple bruises, another finger going inside his hole. The blond hissed but didn’t tell Harry to stop so he thrusted them to the base.

Draco’s brain was shutting down. The lewd sounds filling the room paired with the smell of cinnamon overstimulating his whole body. He wanted more heat, more pressure, more skin against his but the words kept getting lost in his throat everytime he tried to voice his needs. And Potter, fuck, he knew what to do with his hands, with his mouth. That fucking tongue worked like magic inside him. Potter was moving his fingers inside him in a way Draco didn’t even know was possible, scissoring them, thrusting them to the base.

The fingers were suddenly gone. Draco inhalled sharply but before he could complain Potter grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He laid there on his back, legs spread open, cock dripping with pre come. And Harry stared him down, took in every inch of his light skin shamelessly. Draco felt exposed even though they were both naked. His hole twitched, stretched and leaking all the oil Potter had rubbed inside him and Potter stared. He fucking stared, jerking himself as he did.

Draco grabbed his own cock and began to do the same. It was unfair, having to do it all by himself after all Potter did, that bastard. The gesture caught the Golden Boys’s attention, though, and Draco smirked.

'i want,’ Harry bent down, their chests flushed against each other, his mouth whispering in Draco’s lips. 'I want to put it in you’ he sucked Draco’s lower lip. Holy fuck, he was on the edge already. Potter moved his lips to Draco’s ear and shifted, the head of his cock now poking Draco’s entrance. Draco felt it tingle as Potter cast a protective spell. 'I want to fill you up’ he whispered against his ear.

'Fuck, fuck…’

'Has anyone ever done that?’ he nuzzled Draco’s temple, his glans rubbing against his hole. 'I’m going to take you’ Harry hold his cock steadily as he pushed an inch, stretching Malfoy for him. The blond was panting on his cheek, small sobs inbetween gasps for air.

Harry’s ability to dirty talk, even as his own mind wasn’t working properly was something he didn’t know he could do. He was blushing, panting, but the possessivness he felt made him talk. Malfoy was his, all his, he just never thought that that anger, the rush of adrenaline he felt every time they were close could be hiding something else. He always thought Malfoy was his to take down, to fight against. But he also was his to consume, to bury himself into.

Harry thrust slowly, taking in the tightness, the heat engulfing him. Malfoy was fisting his cock under him, eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging open. Harry stopped Malfoy’s hand with his own and, with a tight grip, trapped them both above his head. Malfoy opened his eyes, his grey irisis thin rings around blown pupils.

'Touch my cock’ he whispered against Harry’s lips, more a command than a pleading. Harry smashed their mouths together instead, refusing to let go of his grip. Draco shivered under him, opened his mouth, let Potter invade his mouth with that tongue. Fuck, that tongue that’d fucked him just minutes ago. And Harry kissed him, his cock deep buried to the hilt inside him. He was full, so fucking full he felt his whole body collapse when Potter started to pull back.

He thrust again, the friction, the pressure, sending shocks of pleasure to Draco’s cock, up his spine, everywhere. Through half opened eyes Draco saw Harry gazing at him, his glasses gone, his lips red, parted as puffs of air escaped them. Harry thrust hard when he realized Draco was staring back. His complex changed immediately.

'I-yes fuck ahh-ah…’ Draco’s whole body was trembling, his ass thrusting back against Harry’s cock, trying to get him to go deeper.

Harry released Draco’s hands, grabbed his thighs instead and lifted them, shoving in until his fingers were numb from the tight grip. He’d leave marks there, crimson lines, and the thought made him moan. Harry bent down again, his mouth reaching Draco’s neck. He sucked him there while he fucked hard and fast. Draco fisted his cock with one hand while the other scratched Harry’s back repeatedly.

His moans were louder now, loud enough Harry was sure people could hear them from outside the dorm. Draco didn’t seem to care, or even realize he was making those sounds.

The next moment Draco was contracting around him, trembling violently and coming on their stomachs. The pressure was enough to send Harry over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he came deep inside Draco.

Draco moaned again when he felt something hot filling him up, Harry’s last thrusts too much to handle.

Harry flopped beside him, his limbs drained of strengh.

'Merlin’ he whispered to himself.

'Yeah’

'That was…’

'Yeah’

They didn’t speak for the next couple of minutes. When Harry got up to leave, though, Draco reached for his arm.

'You could… we- uh… we could…’

Harry kissed him softly, almost clumsily before speaking 'Yeah, I- I’d like that’

***

Draco sat down that evening with Pansy and Blaise at their common room to warm themselves in front of the fire. He couldn’t help wincing a bit when he did.

'What’s wrong? I thought Potter had fixed you back’

Draco felt his face flushing immediately.

'He did! I just…’

'I’m sure he did. Just remember to go somewhere else with thicker walls next time you call him to fix your back’ Blaise didn’t even care to lift his eyes from the book he had in hands.

His cheeks were in flames and the expression on Pansy’s face wasn’t helping.

‘You owe me two favours now!’ She smirked, leaning against the couch like she’d won a bet.

‘What- Why two?’ Draco shifted and winced again at the new burning ache.

‘Because,’ She stuck up a finger like she needed to count all the favours Draco owned her. ‘I found someone to fix your back’ She lifted another finger. ‘And,’

Right that second Potter walked through the portrait followed by Granger and Weasley. He spotted Draco immediately and, well wasn’t that great, strode towards him, leaving Weasley with a confused look and Granger with a knowing one. He glanced at Pancy and saw her waving at the Gryffindor girl. Fucking amazing.

‘Hey,’ Potter stood awkwardly there before sitting on the arm of Draco’s chair. Draco knew his cheeks were already flushed but when Potter bent down and whispered in his ear he was sure he probably looked like a tomatoe. ‘Fancy a game of Wizard’s chess later?’

Pansy was shaking trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

‘Your dorm?’ Draco found himself playing with the hem of Potter’s hoodie. The bastard blushed at Draco’s words, but nodded with a smile on his face.

He’d barely turned his back when Draco heard Pansy’s voice loud and clear.

‘And, I got you a cute boyfriend. Two favours!’

***

Ao3 

worst behavior || nursey + jack

“Nursey.”

He doesn’t answer him, typing away at his keyboard in a way that’s visibly agitated, or at least irritable. What are normally soft, smooth clicks against the mac’s surface are now harsh, broken-sounding; each near-slam of his slim fingers makes a sharp clack in the quiet of the haus’ living room.

“Nursey,” Jack says again.

The continued silence makes it clear that he’s being ignored. Inwardly, he sighs.

“Twenty-eight, your captain is talking to you. Answer, now.”

At this, the typing stops. Nurse looks up at him, slowly, and his face is so uncomfortably nondescript and blank that Jack cringes a little inside of himself.

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I just can’t get over how fucking salty it is of Spock to be like “tell McCoy he should have wished me good luck” as he’s fucking dying. Like i hope i reach that level of idgaf sass. I’m dying, but that bitch back talked so w my dying breath i say fuck you

But to add some angst on, Bones did say good luck, but as we all know he said it when Spock couldn’t hear him. And you can see Bones’ heart breaking when he realises Spock may well die believing that Bones doesn’t give enough of a shit to say two little words

BUT does Bones tell him then? “I did wish you luck, Spock. And I wish it all the more now.” FUCK NO Bones won’t be out done in this passive agressive war

anonymous asked:

hello, do you mind me asking what happened with sleepy hollow? I only watched the first season lol

not at all! okay so first off, congratulations on escaping the train wreck early. second, there was a shitload of bs happening behind the scenes, 99% of which we are still in the dark about. the rest is under a cut bc damn.

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Dating Mark would include

Originally posted by holyfuckmark

Mark Tuan

- oh man oh man oh man
- the perfect sweetest boyfriend
- hand holding
- like the kind you only hear about in books and movies
- cute park dates
- hand holding
- back hugs
- pouty kisses
- playing with your hair
- watch out for Jinyoung
- that’s his baby
- it’ll be a battle for Mark’s attention
- like legit you’ll be waiting for him at practice and Mark’s being all cute and winking at you and shiiiiiii
- suddenly Jinyoung starts getting all buddy buddy w/ yo man
- making kissy faces at him
- “are you jealous, Y/N?”
- “I’m more of a Markson fan”
- You’re also in a relationship with Jackson
- “Y/N I got you somethi-”
- “AW MARKY POO YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE”
- “N-No no this is for Y/N-”
- “ #MARKSON4LIFE”
- “Jackson no that’s-”
- “WE’RE MEANT 2 BE”
- Honestly let’s face it, it’ll be you against the rest of GOT7 in a fight for Prince Charming’s heart
- I mean Mark
- same thing
- anyway
- you’re close w/ Papa Tuan and he h a t e s i t
- BABY PICTURES GALORE
- AND HE’S STILL JUST AS CUTE
- he’ll get back at you tho
- “hey Y/N you look so cute in this ladybug outfit”
- “what are you- gIVE IT TO ME WHERE DID YOU GET THAT”
- his laugh is the purest thing
- he can totally get away with calling you babe/baby
- especially in the morning
- when he’s spooning you and you’re trying to get up
- deep sleepy voice
- “baaaaabe stayyy”
- “I gotta gooo”
- “just 5 more minutes”
- his smile could bring world peace
- you’ll be in the audience supporting ur boy
- and he’ll see you
- bring you upstage and you’ll go along w/ it pretending to be a fan
- and he’ll kiss your cheek
- BAM everyone on earth envies you
- expect lots of videos
- of him just doing stupid and cute things
- when you’re sad he’ll just listen and be there
- and two minutes later just smother you in kisses and hugs
- he’ll make you feel so wanted and you’ll never feel alone
- speaking of being alone
- Mark + you being the cutest person in the world in his eyes
- HEH
- american boi knows how to move
- have you seen his floor grinds
- you’re the floor now
- w i n k
- ehEH
- honestly a relationship with this boy would be so
-p e r f e c t
- playing with your hair
- resting his chin on your shoulder
- trying different kinds of food
- you’re his princess
- he’s your prince
- he just loves you s o much
- sometimes you’ll have your days, and other times he’ll have his days
- but you know how to make each other happy and honestly I think that’s what makes you two so perfect

alec’s eyes flutter open, the warmth of the early morning sun settling against his skin. it’s still early, the quiet of the city makes that clear, and it’s a few slow moments later that alec becomes aware of the warm, solid form behind him.

he slowly becomes aware of the arm draped around his waist, the warm palm pressed against his stomach; aware of the way his legs are tangled with magnus’, aware of magnus’ breathing lightly tickling the back his neck, aware of magnus’ chest against his back. something warm and right blooms inside alec’s chest; he hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed this. 

magnus is obviously still asleep, his breathing even, and that washes over alec in a wave of relief. he knew magnus’ struggles wouldn’t disappear just like that, just because he’d voiced them, but alec thinks back to the four previous nights spent distantly aware of magnus’ restlessness and the four previous morning when alec woke up to on an empty bed, and knows that this right here is solid, real progress, that this is huge.

he knows he should check the time, knows the day ahead is going to be difficult at best, but he can’t bring himself to move, to disturb the rest magnus so desperately needs. the calm and content of the morning creep into alec’s body and lull him back to the edge of sleep, and that’s when he feels the barely there kisses against his shoulder.

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19 days/ Hanahaki Disease

AO3 link

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from severe one-sided love, where the patient throws up flower petals until they suffocate to death. The only cure is to have that love reciprocated, or to undergo surgery to remove the plant which wipes all memories and feelings for their beloved.

It starts on a Monday.

Jian Yi’s throat has been increasingly scratchy, ever since he saw the love letter tucked in that girl’s palm.

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Headspace

MASTERLIST

Word count: 2,981

From y/n: Shits going down again…

From Shawn: How bad is it?

From y/n: It’s ‘I’m in my room crying again’ kinda bad…

From Shawn: Just hang on, I’m coming to get you

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anonymous asked:

So, I'm really curious as to what kind of "Awkward Romantic Crap" Keith did during the first three weeks of dating Lance when they were "boyfriends-who-don't-know-how-to-be-boyfriends" XDD Could you maybe give some examples?

I could, but, really, isn’t stuff like that sometimes best left to the imagination? ;) … Right, who am I kidding? I’m a bit sleepy, so my apologies — I’m gonna just give ya one example of Keith being an awkward turtle of a person :)


Awkward Romantic Crap, The First

Keith adores Lance a stupid amount. He spent several months contemplating (between the denying and the repressing because feelings why?) the many ways he would kiss that loudmouth into silence, give him all the reasons as to why he was wanted and valuable, not allowing him the chance to doubt himself ever again, but now they were boyfriends and Keith … He just couldn’t find the words.

So he tried with this one romantic gesture — he tried to get Lance flowers. 

Lance had no allergies (Keith sacrificed his dignity to ask Hunk), the flowers were normal and totally not flesh-eating (Keith gave up a little more pride to ask Coran for where to get a bouquet), and flowers were a thing couples did (according to Shiro, and by this point Keith sort of wanted to live inside Red and never face the team again).

So the reason why this became Awkward Romantic Crap is because Keith just could not find the right time to give them to Lance. 

There had to be some kind of special boyfriend-sense he was lacking because it never felt right to just suddenly give Lance flowers. And he really didn’t want to do it in front of the others, and his private time with Lance was hard to come by and most of it they spent feeling out their relationship and having some truly humiliating (albeit necessary) talks about boundaries or whatever.

They bouquet stayed in his room for a week, the special space blooms starting to droop. 

Until Lance came into his room, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly asking if they could have a date-night on the observation deck couch … And going mute halfway through his question when he saw the flowers.

Silence for a few seconds. Then, “Uh, who’s brought you flowers? Wait, was it that chick with the Elvis hair? Keith, Keith did you bond with another mullet? Are you … Okay, I mean, no, I’m being dumb. You can get flowers from admirers, it’s fine. Just … you could have mentioned it? Do we have to talk about this kind of stuff too? Or am I being, like, possessive if I ask you to tell me? Oh god, am I a controlling boyfriend —”

Keith shut him up with a kiss (maybe this made his heart speed up in the most awesome ways, but that didn’t negate the strategic value for getting a word in when Lance was full-ramble.) And then, trying to keep the blush down and failing, he said quickly, “They’re for you. They were … I got them, a week back, and I just … I couldn’t figure out when to give them to you?”

“A week — were you hiding them whenever we were hanging out in here?”

Keith didn’t answer except to turn even redder.

Lance wasn’t a silly jackass all of the time (though Keith actually found that silly jackass behaviour kind of fun and/or sweet because he was doomed), so he didn’t mock Keith at all — he just smiled and said, “Uh, you can give them to me now, if you want?”

Instantly, Keith reached over to the vase, pulling the flowers out, a few navy blue petals falling as he all but thrust them into Lance’s chest, the stems dripping water. “These are for you.”

“And what’s the occasion?” Lance asked, pink blossoming along his cheeks, down his neck.

“Just … just that I … I’m good with us. Now. And … happy. Because of you. So, thanks. For your existence.”

Lance’s face was doing a thing — Keith couldn’t tell if he was fighting back laughter or tears, but then two arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing him into a soft yet lingering kiss. Satin petals brushed against Keith’s face as Lance still gripped the bouquet tightly.

When they both pulled away, Lance was grinning and Keith didn’t feel so awkward anymore. 

Except when his boyfriend started speaking again … “Dude, would you have just let my flowers die before you grew a spine and gave them to their rightful owner? For shame, Red, for shame.” He dragged the bouquet into the limited space between them. “Look at my precious babies! Did you change the water? You’re supposed to change the water, Keith, you can’t just —”

Keith crushed the flowers between their chests in order to gain access to that irritating (delicious) mouth. Lance wailed about his flowers even as their lips met again. Keith let Lance go long enough to get the flowers some fresh water, watching him carefully tend to the blooms that were still intact.

And then Keith dragged him in for more kisses — he was always better with actions than words. Except flower-giving, apparently. But Keith had learned that he could do that kind of romantic crap, at least once. Better luck next time — he’d give them to Lance in front of everyone, come hell or high water, damn it.

(And maybe, at some point in the future, Keith finds a few dark blue flowers pressed between the pages of an old Altean book Allura had given Lance for his birthday. 

Keith will blush again, cringe at the memory, and then kiss his boyfriend stupid when he walks through his bedroom door because he truly adores Lance a stupid amount, and Lance always appreciates his awkwardness, sees his efforts as the most sincere gestures of love, and Keith can’t help but see any mockery that did come his way as endearing. 

So doomed.)


I am off to bed, and oh so tired, but hopefully this drabble makes some kind of sense. Hope you found it both awkward and enjoyable! ;D *hugs* Many thanks for asking!

Saeran and V waking up with MC for the first time

Hey! Here are Saeran and V in addition to that Waking up with MC for the first time post. Sorry it took a while to answer, I wasn’t really inspired to do them, so… I’m sorry if this isn’t as cute as the original post.

Saeran

  • He wakes up feeling something tickling his nose.
  • Is his brother pulling that stupid prank he pulled on Yoosung? Does he have whip cream in one of his hands waiting to get splashed on his face?
  • For fuck’s sake, his brother is such an idiot and… oh, wait! That thing tickling his nose is your hair.
  • And Saeyoung isn’t here, but you are. Beside him. IN THE BED!
  • Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Have you two…? Are you… naked? No! He can’t look! He won’t look! No! No! No! Shit, he looks.
  • And you have your clothes on, so has he. Whew, what a relief!
  • Relief? Yeah, maybe a little, but… what if something actually happened? Would it be wrong? Bad?
  • Is he ready for this kind of intimacy? Is he ready to let himself get all of your affection? Does he deserve it?
  • He doesn’t feel like he deserves. Yes, the reason why you’re with him right now is because he had one of his episodes last night and you stayed to calm him.
  • It worked, apparently, as he actually slept. Well, that was new, he rarely has any sleep, he’s so scared of his painful dreams, he didn’t had any that night…
  • But… what about you? Are you okay with this? With him being like this?
  • “Saeran? Are you okay?” you rise your head and he feels his breath being taken away, your hair is a mess, you have bags under your eyes, and yet… you look beautiful!
  • “Y-Yes. I’m… I’m fine. I… am sorry for last night, MC, I…” “Don’t worry, it was all a nightmare, just rest a little more…” you make him nuzzle at your chest.
  • It wasn’t a nightmare, it was real. Yet you stayed until he fell asleep. When did you actually get a chance to sleep that night?
  • He’s so self-conscious and worried, but… your heartbeat… is calming him down… he’s feeling sleepy again…
  • This isn’t a dream, this is real.

V

  • He wakes up with your breath against his chest.
  • It’s so calm and soothing and… wait, are you two actually cuddling?
  • How did this happen? Oh yeah… he remembers.
  • You two are camping in this beautiful mountain, he managed to bring you along so you could help him with the photos.
  • It was cold at night, really cold as the blankets you brought weren’t enough, so he suggested you two hugged to keep each other warm.
  • He chuckles remembering you clearing your throat in embarrassment, but it was very cold…
  • And you are very warm, indeed. And soft… and your hair smells like heaven and… how can someone be so perfect even at such a vulnerable state?
  • Or is the vulnerability that makes you perfect like this? He grew some afraid of vulnerability for some time after… well, you know
  • But right now, he wants to allow himself being vulnerable around you as much as you are around him.
  • He also wants having you in his arms like this every day and night, but… no, maybe that’s too much.
  • “Jihyun?” oh, your sleepy voice calling his real name… is he really awake? Isn’t this a dream? “Are you still cold?”
  • “A little, MC. Can’t you come a little closer?” you are too sleepy to feel flustered, so you just put your leg over his body.
  • He wasn’t really cold, but now he’s definitely shivering.

anonymous asked:

ah okay can u do one where tyler is the reader's upstairs neighbor and he plays the piano every night and it puts the reader to sleep, but then one night he stops and the reader can't sleep so she goes up and knocks on his door??

TYLER JOSEPH IMAGINE

As soon as you sit down to eat, it starts.  But you planned it that way, so you smile to yourself.  You feel your entire body relax, as you inhale deeply, picking up your fork once your shoulders had fallen.  Your foot starts tapping as you try to follow the same rhythm as the keys playing above.

It’s a beautiful piece tonight. Yesterday was much faster and upbeat, but tonight it’s slow and almost sort of sad. You try to hum along.

You moved in about three months ago, your last place was just too far from your school, and it’s been incredible. You love it.   It’s a good size, rent is cheap, and there’s also your upstairs neighbor who, every night at 7:30, without falter or fail, plays the piano beautifully for hours until you’re in bed, the rhythmic melody helping you fall asleep.

You never really spent a lot of time thinking about who was playing upstairs.  Probably some old man or lady, you didn’t see how anyone below the age of 30 would have enough time to play a piano for hours on end.

That night, much like many others, you finished your dinner and fell asleep to the sound of your neighbor and their piano.

You can’t sleep, you’ve been tossing and turning since your head hit the pillow.  This was the fourth night the piano hadn’t been played.

You’d just gotten so accustomed to listening to the notes every evening, you didn’t realize how much you had grown to depend on it until now. You knew you were going to wake up exhausted and grouchy. This is all your neighbor’s fault.

It’s 7:34 PM on a Thursday night and you’ve found yourself standing in front of your upstairs neighbor’s door. You honestly didn’t know what you were going to say, but you were feeling reckless and impulsive after running on hardly any sleep this week.  Frankly, at this point, you didn’t really care. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Before you knew it, you’re knocking on the door, eyes looking to the crack in the bottom of the door where you can see a small peak of a shadow.

“Who is it?” The person asks, his voice is muffled but it’s definitely a guy.

“Uh-your downstairs neighbor?” you try to say but it comes out as a question, this isn’t weird, right? Neighbors knock on their neighbors doors asking them to keep playing their piano, right? Right.

“Anne? Are you sick-Oh.” And what.

He’s not old, is the thing. The first thing you see is feet covered in speckled, gray socks, followed by black jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and a hand holding a bitten slice of pizza with a bandage. Uhh—

“You’re not Anne.” The boy says, his voice light, yet raspy.

“Anne-um. Moved. Sorry, am I in the right place? 34 B?” you ask because this pretty brown eyed, soft haired, boy cannot possibly be the anonymous piano player.

“Yeah…Can I help you?…” He asks, his unoccupied hand coming to rest on the open door and holy shit you can see a glimpse of a grand piano right behind him in his living room. What the hell?

“Piano?” you stupidly say, like that makes any sense. The boy turns around to look at his instrument and looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raising, expecting an answer. God, he’s gorgeous.

“You stopped playing— I used to hear you? Downstairs?” you say and this is why you need to figure out what the hell you’re doing before going and actually doing it.

“Oh my piano.. yeah, I’m kinda taking a break from playing, sorry if it’s annoying or whatever, but I pay extra for this place to let me to play—"

“No, no! I love it!” you say, almost desperately, “I just-“ you stop to bite your lip and think for a second, “this is weird, but—“ you stop before disclosing the fact that the man’s music helps you sleep. “I actually miss it,” you say instead.

“Oh!” he says, almost surprised, “my hand though… see?” The boy huffs out a laugh as he raises his right bandaged hand that’s holding the pizza.

“Is that from playing too much?” you ask.

“The cost of playing an instrument, you know? I’m Tyler.” He extends his good hand for a shake and you can’t believe this. The mysterious piano player is a young, hot dude. What?

“I’m Y/N!” you reply, shaking his hand.  You can’t help but notice how well your hands fit together so nicely.

“Y/N,” He starts, biting off a piece of pizza and continuing with his mouth full, “Do you want a slice of pizza?”

And, come on. It’s free pizza, You’re not going to say no.

You hit it off after that night. You kept having excuses to go back to see Tyler, the first time you brought Tyler a batch of your home made cookies, “a repayment for the pizza,” you had said and Tyler grinned and pulled you inside, grabbing two cups and filling them up with milk.

You learned more about Tyler every time you hung out, too. You found out Tyler is hilarious, he’s also sarcastic, he’s only been playing the piano since he was nineteen and has a band with his friend. That one you couldn’t believe at first, the way Tyler had said it so casually was surprising.  

The next time you’re knocking, there seems to be a lot of commotion going on in Tyler’s apartment.  But he answers, nonetheless.

“Y/N!” he greets with a smile.  

“Hey,” you say, apprehensively.  You hear the voices of at least two or three other people in the apartment.  

“I just thought I’d say hi— didn’t know you had people over-“

“No, no, no! Come in! Meet my friends!” he says, opening the way for you to walk inside.  

You’re uncomfortable.

The thing is; you don’t do this kinda thing very often. Your only friend is a girl from school, but even then, you only hang out at school.

When you entered Tyler’s apartment, you see three other guys standing around.  

“Y/N, this is Mark,” he points to a sandy-haired boy with a goofy grin, “Michael,” there’s a buff man holding a beer, “and Josh,” the yellow hair and bright smile gave away his identity as the other half to Tyler’s band.

You smile nervously and wave, feeling awkward just standing around. But soon after introductions, they carry on with whatever video game they were playing.  

“Come on in, Y/N. Don’t be shy!” Tyler says softly. He goes and sits on the soft, patting on the spot next to him. “Come sit, there’s enough space!”

There isn’t space enough. Well, not really at least. The sofa is more of a love-seat, and you end up pressed right against Tyler. He doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and when he casually  throws his arm around your waist after a few minutes, you start to relax.

It ends up being a really good night. You try a few rounds of Mario-Cart but stop, because you end up being so horrible. You don’t mind though.  You’re perfectly content with just watching the other guys play while you’re cuddled close to Tyler. You can’t really remember the last time you’ve had so much fun. They’re all constantly making jokes and telling stories and laughing, and you feel so carefree, almost like you’re floating.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, cause when you open your eyes, it’s to Tyler slowly caressing your cheek. “Wakey, wakey,” he says softly with a chuckle.

You slowly blink and then move to sit up straight. “Oh,” you say, slightly dazed. “Did I fall asleep?”

Tyler nods. “Yeah, about an hour ago. The guys just left though, so I figured it was about time I woke you up. I’m sorry though.. You looked really peaceful, sleeping.”

You look at how your legs are strangling Tyler’s and notice how you’re perfectly curled into his side. You blush, but are too sleepy to be embarrassed about it. “’m sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I’ll- uh..” you yawn. “I’ll go home then.”

Tyler smiles. “I didn’t mind. It was quite comfy, actually.  Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you out.”

You make your way to the front door. When Tyler opens the door, you turn around to thank him.

“Thank you for letting me hang out. And like, letting me sleep on you, I guess. I had a really good night,” you say, still slightly blushing.

Tyler either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about embarrassment. “No problem. I had a really good night too.” He bites his lip and then raises his hand to touch yours. It’s a light brush, but you feel sparks of electricity spike through you.

You’re about to start nodding, when Tyler leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “See you soon?”

You’re baffled, but somehow you manages to mutter out a “yes” before walking away.

Later, when you’re alone in your own bed, you replay the kiss in your head so many times you start getting dizzy. And yes, you think, you could totally get used to this.

The next day, Tyler’s the one knocking on your door.  You’re surprised, but even more so when he asks you out for coffee with him.  

After ten minutes of scrambling around looking for shoes and your wallet, you’re out the door, heading down the street.  There’s a cozy cafe on the corner and Tyler holds the door for you.  You let out a sigh of relief after getting shelter from the cold.

You sit in a small booth near the front window and cradle your cup of hot chocolate between your fingers as you watch people walk by.

Tyler makes sure to keep the conversation going, and there’s never really a dull moment.

You’re laughing loudly when Tyler reaches out at your face. You freeze in your seat as you feel his thumb sweep softly over your lip.

Tyler smiles and pulls his hand back. “You had a little chocolate-moustache, sorry.”

You smile back, but look down, blushing hard.

Tyler takes a breath. “Okay, look at me for a second please.”

You raise your head and carefully stare at Tyler, trying not to get lost in his breathtaking brown eyes.

“I like you,” Tyler then says.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your hands freeze where they’re laying near Tyler’s. “You…” you mumble, but it sounds more like a question.

Tyler’s eyebrows climb high on his forehead. “Like you, yes.” He says, nodding in affirmation, eyes widened with anticipation.

Tyler smiles again, “Man, I thought I was being obvious. I like you, and I’m not afraid to admit that to anyone.” He laughed softly. “I’m sorry for springing this on you like this, because I have no idea how you even feel about me, but-“

You interrupt him, “Seriously?” The surprise is clear in your eyes. “I have a huge crush, I mean the size of Everest on you, Tyler.”

For the first time that day, Tyler seems taken back a bit. “Well, I mean- I guess I didn’t want to assume anything?”

You laugh, “Can I tell you something?” you ask, fixing your eyes back on Tyler.

He nods carefully.

“Your piano playing helps me sleep,” you sigh, “I used to curl up in bed and listen every night, it soothed me.  When you stopped, I couldn’t fall asleep, I just tossed and turned.  That’s why I came up that night— to see why you stopped.”

Tyler just stared at you with a fond look on his face. “It put you to sleep?” He says smiling.

You’re suddenly hit by a wave of shyness, “Yeah…” you mumble, it sounded stupid.  

“Y/N?” Tyler says softly, and you look up at him again. “Can I kiss you?” he continues, voice barely more than a whisper.

Your heart stops for a second, before you slowly nod. “Honestly? I’d be really disappointed if you didn’t.”

Tyler leans forward and softly presses your lips together. He tastes like mocha and every wonderful thing in the world, and you think that this is probably the best first kiss someone could ever have.

Later that night you’re curled up into Tyler’s side, listening to the rise and fall of his chest.  You sigh in frustration, finding that you, once again, cannot sleep.

“I really wish your hand wasn’t hurt— then you could play for me,” you pout, poking your lip out and looking up at him.

He chuckles, giving you a small squeeze before disclosing, “You know I can sing, right?”

You furrow your eyebrows, racking your brain for the conversation where he told you that… But you can’t recall.  You would’ve remembered.  You would’ve made him demonstrate.

“You never told me that—“

“Would you like me to sing to you?  Then maybe you could fall asleep?”

You nod into his chest, burying your face into the fabric of his shirt before saying, “Yes, please.”

Tyler clears his throat lightly before starting to sing— and it’s beautiful.  At first, your chest fills up with so much admiration for Tyler that sleep is the last thing on your mind.  But he continues and his soft tune mixed with the feeling of his hand running up and down your back softly, has you calming down.  Your eyes soon grow heavy and after only a couple of verses, you’ve drifted off into a deep, sleep.  

my pynch headcanons

- ronan, smiling and mockingly saying ‘paaaarrish’

- gansey, talking ‘you’re two so sweet that i’m going to throw up’

- blue and ronan trying to choose a bday gift for adam.

- ‘WHY IS THIS SO HARD BLUE CAN I JUST FUC-’

- ‘shut up lynch i don’t wanna hear anything about your sexual life’

- ronan, watching the sleepy adam

- adam loves call ronan ‘my creepy boyfriend’

- they two walking around the barns 

- ronan likes to tell adam about his parents

- ronan come out to declan after year of relationship

- declan’s reaction is like ‘oh bro i know, believe me. did you see the way you look at parrish at all? 

- adam kisses ronan  in the neck when no one sees them

- adam and ronan holding hands

- and also just sitting in the park without the word

- bc they’re pretty comfortable with the silence of the city around two of them

Mustn’t Twitch

Stiles x Reader


“(Y/N)!” Stiles yelped when you pointed your finger at your locker, letting it swing open.

“What… oh right, sorry I’m still sleepy.” You yawned, snuggling into Stiles chest when he rolled his eyes and hurried over to help you switch out your books.

“Yeah well just because you’re tired doesn’t mean you can start zapping things around!” He muttered, as you slumped against him, almost dropping you when you fell asleep. “How are you so tired?”

Keep reading

ε-(´・`)

Delirium {Aylumswap Sans x Doctor! Frisk}

_She was so good, so kind, so trusting, of those around her.

Even if they didn’t necessarily deserve it. _

 =•=••=•=======¥•+•¥£+¥=¥£========•==+= 

 Tip, tap, tip, tap, tip, tap, tip, tap.

 The sound of shoes on the pristine linoleum floor.

 The florescent lights casting a white glow on everything under them. 

 Was that her coming down the hallway? 

 He hoped so.

 He’d seen her yesterday, less than twenty four hours ago, but it felt like years.

With no clock to tell him otherwise, he had started to believe it actually _had _been years.

 All he knew was that it had been far too long since he’d seen her last.

 The knob on the door jiggled.

He jolted to attention.

The sound of a key entering the heavy padlock. 

 His eyes widened, the lights that served as pupils in his sockets shrinking to pinpricks in focus.

 The door opened a crack, letting light into his somewhat dimmed world.

 He stumbled to his feet, almost falling over before steadying himself.

His arms were restrained, locked in place by the straps of his straight jacket and reducing his balance to that of a newborn baby bird.

 The door opened fully, nearly blinding him with the intensity of the lights of the hallway.

And there she stood.

 "Good morning, Sans.“ 

 that wonderful wonderful wonderful voice oh how he loved the sound of it 

** **

 A flood of emotions washed over him at the sight of her, the sound of her voice sending him reeling

.

Happiness, at seeing her again.

 Relief, that she had come back even after last time. 

 Confusion, at why she left in the first place.

 Anger, that she didn’t stay. 

 Sadness, that he couldn’t make her stay.

 … Joy, simply at having her in the same room as him.

 Excitement, in its’ purest form, rushed over him once more and a smile, almost maniacal, stretched across his face.

He tore at his restraints, pulling and struggling, unable to use his magic to help free himself due to the nature of the cell he was confined in.

 Just like the other rooms that contained monstrous, magically-inclined patients, the walls were made of magic-proof padding that muted the abilities of the inmates contained within. 

 He whined, a keening sound directed at the woman before him and requesting her assistance in removing the offending restraints. 

 She obliged, and, much to his delight, came closer to unbuckle the straps and set him loose. 

 yes yes yes come closer closer closer please please please

** **

 Once she had unbuckled the last strap, his arms were around her, crushing him to her and leaving no space in between.

 "Miss Frisk!” he cried.

 Tears sprung to his eyes when her hand caressed the back of his skull in the softest way.

She treated him so_ gently_.

She wrapped her arms around him, returning the embrace.

 She laughed, that beautifully soft laugh that made his insides flutter and his magic spark inside his chest.

“How are you today, Sans? The doctors haven’t been giving you a hard time, have they?” She asked. 

 He looked up at her from where he’d buried his face in her chest.

“They pricked me again after you left yesterday,” he said, before adding in a somewhat pouty voice, “I don’t like it when they prick me. The medicine in the red vial feels weird.”

 She made a sad face.

She had been making those more often. 

 no no no don’t be sad smile for me smile smile smile please please please

 "I’m sorry to hear that. But…Sans,“ she said. “You know why they had to inject you. You were losing control again, and there was no other way to calm you down." 

 He held her tighter.

 He whined and pulled on her, signaling that he wanted to sit down.

She understood and they sank to the floor, Sans still clinging and showing no intention of letting go anytime soon.

 "You calm me down,” Sans said quietly, his head rested on Frisks’ shoulder. “Better than some stupid drug…" 

 She stroked the back of his skull.

His sockets fluttered shut, the sweet smell of her hair lulling him into a sense of security. 

 so good so sweet so wonderful so beautiful so trusting and all mine mine mine

 "I suppose,” Frisk said. “But I can’t always be here when you need me.”

 Sans buried his face further into her hair.

 "I have other jobs to do in the hospital, you know.“ 

 Sans dug his phalanges into the back of her stark white lab coat.

 "I have other patients to see, and take care of-" 

 ”Brother talked to me again last night!“ Sans blurted. 

 This stunned Frisk into silence.

She looked down at her small charge, her eyes widening. 

 Sans saw this expression and matched it with a teary-eyed look of his own, before trying to hide his face in her coat once more.

 Frisk held him at arms length, however; she refused to let him get closer.

 Sans often talked about his ‘brother’, an older,  taller skeleton monster who was supposedly held in a maximum security cell deep beneath the hospital. His presence in the institution was practically a legend, it being said that he was one of the strongest and most unstable patients, and only certain doctors and scientists were allowed to be near him; his powers included telekinesis, teleportation, telepathy(which is probably how he was able to communicate with Sans so easily), and other abilities that even the highest security prisons were loathe to handle. 

 It just so happened that Sans had those same abilities, however dulled down they were… 

 …And madness seemed to run in their family, unfortunately.

 Frisk stared into the eyes of her most prominent patient, his blue pupils staring back at her with an air of fear. 

 Sans didn’t appreciate being held so far away, so used to being kept close, and fought out of Frisks’ grip before falling into her and grasping around her midsection once more.

He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t wrap her arms around him like normal.

 no no no no don’t don’t please don’t you dare turn away hold me love me i need you

** **

 "Sans." 

 Her voice.

 "What did your brother say to you?”

 He thought about it. 

 "He said,“ Sans paused. "He told me what happens to him…down in the basement.”

 Frisk set her hands on either side of Sans’ skull and pulled him to look at her.

“What happens to him?" 

 Sans was silent, staring into the warm hazel of her eyes.

He covered the hands on his cheeks with his own and looked away, worrying his bony lower lip between his teeth.

 "The doctors are really mean down there. He gets pricked almost constantly, and they shock him.” Sans stated. “He doesn’t get mad easily, but it makes him really angry when he can’t fight back.”

Sans stared off into the corner, seemingly focused on one point. 

 "They even make him wear this special face mask that puts sleepy poison inside him,“ He continued. "It makes it so he can’t move, and…so they can take magic from him. He says he hates all the people who work here, and that I should too.”

 Frisks’ thoughts went to a dark place. Taking magic…what did that imply? And what would happen if this ‘brother’ ever escaped? She shuddered to think about the carnage that would most likely follow.

 She didn’t notice when a blushing Sans added quietly, “I could never hate you, though.”

 never never never i could never hate you you’re my one ray of light in this hell

 "There’s one doctor he likes, however. A lady with red hair that’s covered in yellow flowers. She’s nice to him, he said. “ Sans continued. "She doesn’t hurt him when she goes in his room like the others. She just sits there and talks to him, and he likes listening to her, even if he can’t talk back. She even reads to him sometimes, like you read to me!” Sans’ manic grin was starting to show again as he got excited. 

 Frisk mulled that information over. A lady with red hair (by 'covered in yellow flowers’ he must have meant the hairpins she wore every day); that sounded like Chara, one of the emotional therapists assigned to the more…stable, less magical wards.

What was she doing handling one of the most violent patients in the facility? 

 Frisk didn’t have time to dwell on it.

 The intercom outside the room buzzed, signaling that someone from the main office was trying to call her.

 She pried the small monsters’ arms off of her gently (or as gently as she could given the death grip he had on her), and went to the door, leaving Sans on his haunches with small tears in his sockets. 

She noticed passingly that he was trembling.

That usually meant he could tell she was going to leave; which would most definitely lead to a bad time. 

 She opened the door enough to see the small speaker on the wall next to the door frame. She pressed the red button on its’ plastic casing, accepting the call.

 "This is Dr. Dreemurr, how can I help you?“

 The nasally voice of the receptionist answered. "Dr. Dreemurr? Yeah, you’re needed on the third floor. Recovery Ward B-2, the little girl with the head injury. She’s scheduled for a checkup today, and, just letting you know, you’re a tad late for it. Ms. Spinner told me to call and see if you were still in the mental ward." 

 Frisk rolled her eyes in exasperation. She’d lost track of time again. Dammit, why hadn’t someone called sooner?

 "Of course, tell Ms. Spinner I’ll be there as soon as I can. And tell her to wait until I get there to do anything. That poor little girl is still fragile and I don’t want her in any more pain than necessary.”

 As Frisk was ending her conversation, Sans was starting to get antsy. He pushed himself to his feet, head angled towards the floor. 

 He started mumbling under his breath, incoherent sounds and whispers flowing from his mouth as his hands clenched at the fabric of his pants. He stared at the ground, glaring, while his magic sparked in his socket and cast a blue glow in the low light of the padded cell.

 ”You’re going to leave now, aren’t you?“ 

 Frisks’ hand froze over the comms’ button.

 She slowly lowered it.

This happened every single time. 

 She’d spend close to three hours with Sans (more time than she spent with any other patient on a daily basis) and he’d still have a hard time letting her go. And while he’d never actually hurt her, the threat was still _very _real. 

Still, she furrowed her brow and turned to face him, determination sparking in her gaze. She just needed to be firm with him, like always.

“Sans, you know I can’t stay. There’s someone else who needs me right now.”

 no no no not more than i need you stay stay stay

 Sans let out a strangled noise in the back of his throat, more glowing tears oozing out of his sockets, down his face, and collecting in puddles on the floor. A sob shook him. 

He was trembling uncontrollably, looking about ready to collapse.

Frisks’ expression softened. Although she knew he was most likely faking it, Frisk couldn’t stand to see him so distressed. 

She went to the small monster, allowing him to cling to her. She rubbed soothing circles into the back of his skull. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow, like always. You know I’d never abandon you, Sans.” Sans sniffled, nuzzling his face into her shirt.

 ”Promise?“ 

 Frisk smiled at him when he looked up at her. “I promise.”

 Sans lowered his gaze back to the ground. 

He slowly, shakily loosened his grip on Frisks’ waist and took one trembling step back. 

 Frisk slowly stepped away from him, giving him plenty of space. She half-turned to the door, keeping an eye trained on the still-crying monster.

 It broke her heart to see him cry, it really did, but if she stayed to comfort him he probably wouldn’t let her leave for another couple of hours.

 Frisk opened the door and stepped out into the sterilized hallway. She closed the door behind as quickly and as quietly as she could. 

She swiped her ID card over the scanner, locking the heavy mechanism and sealing her charge inside. 

 Frisk started down the hallway.

 She got halfway to the elevator before the screams started. 

 Screams of agony and pain and anger, paired with the vibrant cyan of uncontrolled magic casting shadows in her wake.