Text-based Dividers -- U Can Copy Paste Them :3

sgt pepper ponies

Record player // George Harrison x reader

Warningz: Not revised at all, kinda rushed. Gn reader

Summary: meeting George and the other Beatles (only Paul + John) at a record store. 1962

Note!!!: this is my first time writing 4 George so if it sucked that's why!! This wasn't revised but I think it's fine lol

You  slip on your coat and your shoes, flicking the lights out before locking your front door and stepping outside into the chilled air. It was a nice, slightly breezy day out and You had decided to head out to a small record store you had seen downtown.

You're house wasn't too terribly far and, as aforementioned, the weather was surprisingly nice that day. You walked past your apartment, then down the street, the wind blowing lightly against your face. You turn a corner or two, leading you up to the front step of the small, brick building housing the record shop. As you step in, you find yourself inside a warm and dimly lit brick shop, filled with musical instruments and records of all genres. The place is dusty and a little dingy, but not at all in a bad way. A record player sits off to the side next to the checkout counter, and the wall opposite it is lined with various instruments, (mainly string) with one lone drum kit resting in the corner.

As you walk in, you greet the cashier politely and begin to walk around, exploring the unfamiliar store. You flip through the records closest to the counter, beginning with the jazz, just searching for anything that you might like.

    The shop was small and relatively empty aside from your quiet presence.The records were organized in alphabetical order, so that was the order by which you searched them, taking out and holding any that interested you. Through the A's, B's, C's, then to the D's and. .. . . You turn your head to look at who enters as the shops bells ring

A loud clamour interrupted the quiet atmosphere of the small shop as a group of three ragged boys walked in, instruments in hand. One boy, the one with an almost baby-faced look (Paul obviously) haphazardly set a guitar onto the front counter, asking if the guitar could be repaired. You tried hard not to stare as you eyed the instrument, it was in rough condition alright. The sides of it had burn marks on it and the whole fretboard looked as if it had been run over by a bike. Poor thing.

In spite of this condition, the boy just leaned a leather sleeve covered arm against the glass counter and gave the shop owner a cheeky grin. The taller One of his mates shakes his head at the boy, while the other seems to be looking away and smoking a cigarette, nonchalant about the situation. You glance back down, opting to focus back on the records and silently watch how this whole scenario  might unfold.

The lad with the dainty face, who you soon find out is named Paul, starts trying to convince the store owner that surely the guitar isnt beyond repair. Because of the small size of the store, you have no choice but to overhear all of this, listening to the interaction as your fingers trace their way over to the E section. ..Elvis. . .Ella Fitzgerald. . . You took notice of how some of the records were out of order, like someone had put them back that way and they just hadn't been checked. Without realizing it, you soon become engrossed in the task of looking at the records, picking up new ones every so often.

You don't look at the group any more because of your focus, and cease to notice how the group had mostly dispersed across the store. It seemed that Paul had shifted from trying to convince with the owner to just settling for buying a new guitar, and was browsing around along with one of his mates. The third one, taller with an obviously curled mop on his head for hair, was peeking over, eyeing the records just across from you.

You hardly notice him, then hear a sudden "thunk!" Which wakes you up from this focussed state. You look over to see the source of the sound, eyes falling upon the taller lad as he reaches down to pick up the record he dropped, at least that's what you figured considering the noise and the timing. his eyes meet yours for a long second before he reaches a lanky hand back to the shelf putting the record back in its place.

You try your best not to notice, but as you continue browsing, the same lad seems to be stealing glances in your direction. He hadn't noticed you prior to locking eyes with you when he dropped the record, and it had just then sunken in to him that there was someone so beautiful and eye-catching next to him.

Time had passed with you taking your time to look through the store. Soon enough, his friends take notice of his quite obvious interest in you, with Paul elbowing him and telling him to quit his staring, and the other saying he ought to make a move before you notice and think hes creepy.

    You begin glancing around the shop, searching for a title of a record you would recognize, looking, scanning, searching and. . . . finding it. You calmly walk over to the record, it was one from an artist you had enjoyed listening to in the past and wanted to hear more music from, so you were so happy to find that they had that. You try to pull the record out from the shelf it was on, only to find that it was so wedged in between others that it would hardly budge. You spend what had to have been at least two minutes tugging at the vinyl before you heard a "need any help?" Coming from the taller lad, who was now at your side. "Uh, yeah that would be great." You reply, glad to at least get the record out. He pries it out with ease, handing it to you almost in one whole motion. "There. Glad I could help ya"

   You look up at him as hes speaking, now noticing how cute his face seems, with his prominent canines that almost resemble fangs alongside his well shaped jaw and lovely dark brown eyes. He looks down at you in a caring way, passing the vinyl over to you. You then take it in your hands, your cheeks reddening slightly as he continues to gaze at you for a moment.

You notice that from behind him, one of his friends seem to be looking at the two of you, one snickering and the other half whisper half chanting, sort of cheering him on.

    He looks back at his friends before looking shyly back down at you. "Ey, . . . Good choice, that's a nice album, great listen" he motions to the record, now in your hand. you could feel yourself acting shyer than usual, considering how attractive he was "oh, yeah. Thank you. I haven't been able to find much of this artists music."

   "Right. They're pretty good though, aren't they?" He scratches the back of his neck when saying this. You nod back up at him, happy that he's sharing this with you.

    He walks to the glass checkout counter, with you following not too far behind, record in cupped in your hands. He gently handed the cashier the set of guitar strings he's buying, then turning back to look at you, holding his hand out. You look down at his hand, mildly confused.

  "The record." He paused, looking back up at your face, thinking about how pretty you looked "I'd like to pay for it, if thats alright with you"

You're eyes widen as you hear him say that, definitely not expecting him to make that sort of offer towards you, someone he had just met. He waits patiently for your response, a moment of silence passing between you two. His mates continue to watch the scene play out with you and him.

   As the silence continues, it nearly becomes awkward, though you cut through it when saying "I hardly know you, I don't even know what your name is."

   He pauses, taking a moment to let what you said sink in "it's George, and you seem sweet." He looks to the side, adverting his gaze out of shyness, his face reddening slightly "besides, you're real cute. I wouldn't mind buyin it for ya"

    Your eyes widen as you look up at him, still in a surprised state as you nod your head again, saying "I'm y/n, and uh, that's so sweet of you. Thank you" allowing him to buy. You look happily back up at him, his eyes meeting yours; cheeks flushing a shade darker at his kindness. He passes the money to the store clerk, then hands you back the record, slipping it into your hand suprisingly gently. He guides you outside of the store, exiting himself then holding the door open for you to join him.

   You step outside, noticing the rest of the lads staying behind to talk to the stores manager once again. You thanked him again for buying your record, to which he stops you mid-sentance, telling you that it was no problem and he was happy to for someone as cute as you are.

    As you tell him that you'll be walking back home soon since you've bought what you had planned to, he looks deep into your eyes. "Could I have you stay just a minute longer?" He inquired, taking hold of the cuff of your sleeve, pulling you a little very gently.

Your eyes meet George's, with his cheeks flushed a shade of red, and an awkward but longing gaze looking down on you. "Sure, but only if it's short" you respond

He hesitates for a moment, gathering up the courage to say what he wants to without embarrassing himself. "I was wondering if you'd like to be mine."

A shocked look spreads across your face, not quite expecting this. You continue to listen intently, with George finishing what he wants to say "I know. I know we only just met, but I've got a good feeling about you, you know? You're real cute, kind, have great music taste." He points a long finger down to the record currently being held under your arm. 

"You seem like you would make a lovely partner, y/n" George continues, looking off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness.

    Your expression shifted into one of sheer flattery and happiness, a smile spreading across your face as you heard his words. "I would love to!" You nearly yell, the excitement getting to you, almost forgetting you had only just met George. Though awkward, he came off as surprisingly charming and was so, so handsome in your eyes.

He smiled back at you, his fang-like canines poking out against the bottom of his pretty lips. "Ah, that's great love."

His gaze shifts back to the inside of the shop, where his mates seem to be paying for the instrument, almost a second away from walking out the door and approaching you.

   "In that case, how about you meet up with me?  Same place, this weekend? We could go out to eat after" George makes another offer, and its one you know you won't refuse. He seems to have slightly shaken off the initial nervousness, with a more comfortable tone to his voice.

You smile once more "yeah, that sounds great!" As you speak, Paul pushes his way through the door, guitar in hand, causing the bell on the shops door to Ring out. Paul starts chatting with George and as the lads get to talking,  you figure it would be best to start walking back. Turning around, you lift your hand, keeping it low as you wave back at George.

   Though hes being pulled in the opposite direction by both of the other lads, he turns his head around one last time.  Looking at you walk away, he half-shouts "I can't wait to see you again, y/n!"

   You feel your cheeks flush as you continue waving back in response, flattered by him. His words linger in the air and You cant help but smile at them, filled with excitement as you make the walk back to your apartment. You almost thought you were crazy, but you couldn't wait to see this beautiful, kind acquaintance again too.

Woah! Is that an Intro???

Call me either martian or Cas! - he/they -

I mainly draw but don't post much art =)

I used to be into fanfic writing a few years back and I'm trying to get better at it.

I am a minor but I have one draft that's nsfw,, I'll probably still publish it, Idk.

I'd take most requests for the shows/people below + more depending on the request.

Fandoms (aka what I'll write/draw for):

The umbrella academy

The Beatles (mostly George + Ringo)

David Bowie

The owl house

Buffy the vampire slayer

(Maybe) the Monkees

The arcana

Thought Tumblr would like my Altoid wallets of the Beatles. Gonna make one 4 Bowie or the other two if I can find more Altoids.

idk why George is sideways ignore him

George Harrison x classmate reader

Warning: I'm projecting A LOT here. I think this ones gonna b kiiiiinda long but I did take my time on it

Summary: you go to a small school and seeing George is the highlight of your day. Something happens and a simple chemistry project brings the two of you together

Your painfully small school had always seemed rather dull to you.

It certainly was quite the contrast compared to the big city you had moved there from, cramped and uncomfortable to your wide and spacious. You didn't know hardly anyone, and the people who did know you found you too strange to like all that much. Someone so big-city and upfront like was usually a bit too much for these small town people. All this made your school life more boring and bordering on miserable for you.

As the days ran their course, dragging on slower than anyone would think possible, and it seemed there might not be anything good to this school or area. Seemed.

Except for those few times a week that would seem to brighten up your whole week, maybe whole month. Maybe longer. Those were the times when you got to your favourite class of the day, which was chemistry. This wasn't because of the classroom, or the teacher, or the coursework, or the students, but because of one specific student in that class that would always manage to catch your eye.

Most of the other students would avoid him due to his appearance, the stand-out leather jacket, the hulking messed up mat of hair. That coupled with the quiet and reserved air he had about him, people were either too intimidated by him or fawning over him. but God. You couldnt help but admire everything about him.

He played in a band, one that had recently gotten popular down at the local club, the cavern club. Everyone in the class knew that about him but most didn't realize how much his work consumed him. his tendencies to get distracted all class, his habit of falling asleep mid-lesson, him always being jittery or out of sorts because he would either be up so late playing a gig or practicing for the next one.

Everyone in the class knew that the cavern was an exclusive-type deal, with few becoming members in spite of its popularity. Your classmates from period to period would talk about how popular they were getting, so even you knew about the upcoming gig that the already infamous Beatles were set to play the following Saturday.

You noticed all his tendencies much more than you would ever like to admit. He would always be stamping one foot lightly, or humming a tune -- making the melody of what might be a new song. He would always fidget with his pencil in between working and had the horrible habit of not hardly getting any classwork done for one reason or another.

You were the one who was usally assigned to work on class projects with him, partially to help him up his grade, partially because you were the most neutral one in the class. Or so most people thought. You thought that too, for a long time. After all, it was you who least expected to fall so very hard for him in the way that you did.

His every motion, every word had you enchanted. You did try to work hard as you normally would, but he proved a decent distraction from the daily monotony. Through classes, you stole glances but tried not to stare. Through It was when you were assigned to a massive group project together, one that most of his (and your) grade was leaning on.

you hoped it would pose the perfect opportunity to get a little closer to him.

The project involves you both making a surprisingly large poster. How this would benefit you, you werent sure, but he needed the extra boost to his grade. Getting to work you both began cutting, pasting, writing, researching.

"feels a bit like kid's work, eh?" He would joke, smiling up at you In that toothy way he did.

You nod back shyly. It did feel pointless, childish. But you weren't one to complain. Not when you got a good excuse to spend time with him, at least.

The assignment proved tougher than you thought it would be, especially with the small work space given to you. It's not like they had much to work with in the first place; it was a small school in a town that felt even smaller. To say that you had limited resources would be a harsh understatement, but you had to work with it.

Though, limited resources did mean a small workspace, crowded and jammed next to all the other students in the small and yet claustrophobic classroom.

This meant that you shared the same tiny table space with George. It was certainly close quarters, Elbow to elbow and with hardy any room to move.

He would tape or glue down a part of the poster, only to look up and make eye contact with you, his soft brown eyes meeting yours. He would reach around you to grab a pair of scissors and you could hear his breathing, feel him hardy centimeters away from your body.

Then when you spaced out and he would tap your hand lightly to get your attention, the contact making you flush and tearing your attention back to the present moment. You didn't realize it but you had practically been staring, stumbling and been acting a shaky mess the entire time you worked.

It wasn't like he didn't notice this, of course he did. He almost found it funny. He would chuckle under his breath so you couldn't hear it when he caught you staring at him. Then, when he noticed how frazzled you got when he touched you, even in the smallest ways, he began doing it more often. Brushing his arm up against yours when he reached across the table or touching his hand to yours when passing you a pencil, subtle motions so you could feel him at all times.

When work on the project slowed down and you stood up to admire the work, George kicked his feet up on the table, and it seemed he was fumbling for a cig.

Reaching through the pocket of his leather coat, rummaging in search of the box he stops to look up and ask you if you "had a light on ya."

Before you reach to grab anything he says again "could really use it after all that" and shoots a wink in your direction.

You almost miss the subtle gesture, and barely catch onto his flirtation.

A bit flushed, you rummage through your sweater's thick pockets in search for the box of matches that you knew was buried there. Flipping the small box open and fumbling to light the match, you hold the flame up to his lips.

George leans back in his seat, taking a casual drag from the cig between his teeth. When he exhales the smoke, You almost swear that his eyes linger on you. It seems like hes taking In the sight of you, all your features from head to toe. You don't have much time to think on his stolen glances, however, as your professor calls the class' attention to her, making you both turn your heads.

The project has come to a close and all the students have to clean up supplies in preparation for whatever you all do next. The teacher instructs the class to put everything back in its place and you offer to run some things over to the trash.

"should I take this too?" You motion to a pile of glue and scissors.

"fine by me, though I would hate to make such a pretty lass do all the work"

He takes another drag of the cigarette, deliberately leaning away so the teacher wouldn't catch him in the act, keeping his eyes focused on you while he did so. "I'll get the paper scraps"

You nod, face a little flush as you picked up the scissors and glue, making your way over to the opposite side of the room. Your mind couldn't help but linger on the way he looked at you; that glint in his eyes, the toothy way he smiled and the almost teasing way that he approached talking to you.

You liked him, for sure. It was clear you were over the moon but now it felt like something was changing between the two of you.

You put the scissors back into their place, then walked over to where the glue was sitting.

He seemed to be . . . flirting? You thought that had to be the case with how he was acting. Though your fear told you otherwise. You worried he had caught on to your subtle affections, how could he though? when you hadn't even hinted at them. You didn't think you came off as obvious, did you? The thought crossed your mind that he probably just had a genuine interest in you, Could he like you back? In the same way?

You rolled the idea around in your head as you set the glue down, your thoughts running a mile a minute. Which, was in fact too fast for you to notice that you had left your box of matches sitting on the table next to George. You hadn't time to notice how he, out of fear of the teacher catching him smoking, of course, had taken the box of matches in his hand. And you were far too focused to notice how he took the pen used for the project and scrawled out his phone number on the inside flap of the box.

So you turn around and you walk back to George to see him setting the matchbox down at your seat and standing up "ya left this" he said simply as he shuffled over to the trash can to toss the scraps out.

unaware of what he had done, you slip the box of matches back into their place in your pocket and think nothing of what happened.

as the project wraps up and the class prepares to leave, George turns to face you

“ey, thanks for the help. I’d be failing without ya”

smiling you say “not a problem. Always” as you slide back down into your chair, the bell for that period rings, signaling the end of the class.

As the day came to a close and you got home, you settled down back at your house.

You flipped out a cigarette, and, Rummaging through your jackets pocket, you pulled out your matchbox, opening it to find a number signed with "call me - geo <3"

your face flushes.

You had a spare minute and this almost gurenteed that he had been flirting. What else was there to do but phone him?

In more of a hurry than you expected to be in, you rushed for the phone and dialed each number on the box, anxiously awaiting his answer. Luckily, he was probably near the phone and picked up right away.

"y/n? This you? I can't believe you actually called!'

He seems excited. Oh he seems excited.

"of course I would. How could I not" You respond simply

"y'know, I wanted to phone ya to tell ya something. You ever hear of the cavern club, y/n?"

Was he about to ask you out to a club? Dancing with George sure sounded fun. You had heard of the cavern, of course you had heard of the cavern. Everyone knew of it and everyone knew George played there.

"course I've heard of it. Don't you play in a band there?"

"ya. The Beatles, we've been playing non-stop lately. Getting bigger, I think"

George pauses, leaving a small opening for you to say something but you stay silent.

"ever been?' he questions

"no, but I'd like to" you respond.

"you really should go, I'd love to have you there. We could have a bite to eat after?"

'Yeah! That sounds nice" you say, excited and surprised by his offer

"would be nice to have such a pretty bird keeping me company"

You rush to respond but before you get the chance George shoots you a hurried "hope to see you there!" And you hear the line go dead leaving you to assume he's put the phone down. In spite of him, his nerves had got the best of him as he set down the telephone and slumped over next to it. Nerves on high, the only thing George could do was hope that he didn't offend you and hope you showed up to catch his show.

And that's exactly what you would do. After he gave you the rest of the details in the middle of chemistry, you knew you wanted to go.

So that same Saturday you got ready to go to his gig. You put on what you assumed was the most rockin outfit you owned. Your same leather coat paired with a dark sweater that complimented it and your shoes. You fumbled through your pocket for the membership card to the cavern he had given you, pulling it out of your jacket pocket to eye it. Feeling the smooth surface of the pamphlet you had signed, you couldn't help but get excited for his show. Your heart raced at the thought of him onstage, his hands against the fretboard and his eyes lowered to look your way as you smiled from the audience. Would he wink up at you? And what would he be like afterwards?

You had to save these thoughts for later as you got to the club, music filling the air and people, some familiar and some foreign, crowding the surrounding area.

You checked in with the membership paper, then stepped into the crowded club, unsure of how things would all turn out but excited to finally get to see more of George.

As the music filled the air and people crowded the floor, you wandered over to your seat for the show.

George played and he definitely played well. They all did, of course they did. The performance was a few other bands on first, then they came on fourth. The Beatles did a few covers, none all that bad; you liked the show and you swore you could see George stealing glances at you as you smiled up at them.

The show came to a close and some folks stayed around. Fangirls, admirers, friends of the members and a handful of people there to cheer on the bands that had given their performances.

Glancing around, you scanned the small bar for any sign of George or the other Beatles. You stopped in your tracks when you heard a whistle come from across the cluttered area.

Turning around, you saw George winking at you and gesturing for you to walk over and join him. You noticed his mates were off making talk with some other fans, so that left the two of you alone together.

"y/n! Almost didn't think you'd come. So how'd you like the show?"

"oh, it was great! I can definitely see why you're all local celebrities" you nudge George, joking a little bit

George leans down to look you in the eye and motions over to the bar nearby "what do you say we get us something to eat, huh?" He looks over to his band mates, signaling for them to let him leave you to it, to which he was met with chuckles and whistles from John and Paul.

You nod up at him, a shy smile on your face. George guides you over to a table in a secluded area of the cavern.

George looked down at you, menu in hand " they've got real good sandwiches here, y'know. Good bar food too."

A short pause

He nodded at you "dyou know what you want?"

You glanced down at the menu, then back up at him. The two of you seemed to hold eye contact for a moment, long enough for you to catch a loving look in his eyes before you passed the menu back to him saying "I think I'll have whatever you get"

George walked over to get order, leaving you at the table alone, but only for a brief moment.

The food was quick to get to you, and, he was right. It sure was good, even if a little overcooked but definitely way better than you expected it to be.

George ate quickly, almost like eating the cavern's food had become second nature to him with all the long nights he had spent there.

"howre ya liking it?" He asked as you took your first bite, he smiled down at you between mouthfuls of food.

"it's good" you replied.

In one moment, the room filled with soft music as another band came onstage to play a simple melody, you assumed they were only there for the sake of background noise.

As the night winded down, you and George ate to the sounds of the soft melodies drifting through the air.

You observed the band from across the room. They seemed to be a jazz group, and a rather small one for the kind of music that they played. In spite of this, the tune they had going seemed to be both dance-worthy and soothing to all the people in the club.

You got so lost in the atmosphere that almost didn't notice when George spoke to you, absentmindedly

"y'know, I was right nervous to call you. Ya should've seen me, making the whole telephone shake like that"

You weren't sure how to respond but it didn't seem you needed to, since he had more to say

"I've always fancied you, y/n."

George picked up his fork and made like he was playing with his food as he looked up at you, a sort of longing in his eyes.

"you're so smart. Bloody smart, cute, Witty, all those nice words"

You look up at him in surprise, as you feel your face grow redder. you don't know what else to do. You had suspected something like this but had no idea he would be so open about it. Maybe he was only trying to flatter you?

"right. If I keep freting over this it's gonna eat me alive" he continues, setting down his food to look you right in the eye, then taking your hands in his own.

"y/n. Ah. . . I know this might be a bit soon but, is this be a date?"

You glance back up at him, slightly surprised. Now you don't think he's just laying on the flattery.

"I'd. . I would like it to be. If you want it to be" you hesitate, his nerves wearing off on you

"right. Wait, really?" He beams that toothy grin of his, leaning over the table to look in your eyes

"yes, really! I've had the hots for you for a minute, George."

His eyes and smile widen

"Bloody hell. I hardly noticed! I was worried that I was coming on too strong. Huh."

Shaking your head, you assured him that wasn't it at all.

-

The chairs scratching against the floor, George and you both stood up at the same time, preparing to leave.

George looks behind you, like he's just noticed something. Turning around in your seat, you notice paul motioning over to him.

He walks over to Paul, you guessed that he had to remind him of something.

"Well, I've gotta run back and grab my guitar. Looks like I left it backstage."

George was back, standing next to you and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

I NEED a hunter toh fic inspired by skin by oingo boingo

"This is someone else's story

Someone that I never knew

This is someone else's body

Am I getting through to you?"

Tw: revised only a little

Note!!: I'm mid rewatch of toh, but I haven't got to hollow mind yet + don't remember much of it. This takes place post hollow mind tho. Also LOVE oingo boingo!! Song is so good

Sitting in his room, hands folded yet with a tight grip, a mind racing from everything he had seen and gone through, hunter thought it all over. Everything.

It ripped him apart just to fathom. The torture, the lies. Beneath all the fond and horrible memories, who was he if not just a disgusting extension of everything that emperor belos built.

He could hardly wrap his mind around it. And how could anyone expect him to?

A carbon copy of someone you can't become.

"If you peel away the skin, is there anybody there?"

A recreation of something you never were. Shaking, shivering, and suddenly feeling like a foreigner to his own body, he subconsciously curls into himself on the bed.

Running a hand through his crooked hair, he shook subconsciously, slowly taking in the full gravity of his life.

Part of him knew that if he dwelled on it he would only sink deeper into it; losing himself in his own mind, but what did he care? What did he have to lose? Himself? He was already long gone. What could possibly help him out of this?

All these questions, all unanswered and doubts about his entire existence flooding his mind. It felt like an endless and undying pit of despair, ready to swallow him whole at any given moment.

Who was he? -- when it all came down to it, underneath it all, what could he be?

"If you peel away the skin, is there anybody there?"

Under what belos molded him into, physically and otherwise. He physically couldn't find a clear sense of his identity under the guise of the lies he had known his whole life

Taking a shallow breath in, his eyes lilt shut, his body forcing him into sleep with exhaustion finally creeping up on him.

"Over years the walls have grown

Is there anybody in there

In this self inflicted tomb?

If you peel away the layers,

Is there someone in this room?"

It gets better // Five Hargreaves x sick!reader

Summary: Five Hargreaves x reader where reader is very sick, only from a common cold. can be read as platonic!!

Warningz: this takes place in S3. Mainly bcs I'm rewatching it rn.

Note: rushing to get this done before I'm not sick anymore :/ divider by @enchanthings

It gets better - AlicebanD

you've been sick for almost a week now, which, for you, was odd. You were one of the members of the sparrow academy who had survived fighting with the umbrellas. Due to your powers being similar to Five's and rather useful to the group, the umbrellas decided (with some disagreeing) that you should stay with them.

you had been with them for only a few months now, which allowed some of the siblings to get to know you. You were on decent terms with most of them, and were more friendly, suprisingly, with Five; the oldest who appeared youngest. He would spend more time with you because he knew you had a time-related power like his, and thought of the potential that you could somehow, some way, fix up the kugelblitz.

now, in these few months you'd gone out to check up on your siblings once or twice, with Sloane or one of the Umbrellas always trying to talk you out of it. Those times, and the times when five would drag you out of the hotel on some mission were the only times that you even left the Hotel. And yet somehow, you had come down with a cold. A bad cold.

it had you sick for nearly a week now, and it didn't seem to be letting up in the slightest. This was unusual to the members of the umbrella academy, as they didn't get I'll very often. And even as a sparrow, the case was the same for you; And in spite of this, you couldn't seem to get any better.

Out of all the people you were staying with, five seemed to be the most worried about you in your current state. You wondered if it was because he saw you as his way home, or if he was using you in any way. Typically he would never act the way he was right now. He was completely out of sorts, hardly getting any sleep and constantly freting over you, making sure that you had any medicine you needed to get better.

All of his siblings were beyond surprised at his behavior, they didn't really know how to receive the way he's been acting. He's giving you almost round the clock attention and care. When he isnt checking up on you or refilling your glass of water or finding painkillers or preparing food for you, he is likely hard at work, brainstorming more ways to help you feel better. This was completely out of character for the typically stone cold boy who was sarcastic towards others at best. But to be caring and doting almost like a mother hen? What have you done to him?

But he couldn't help it. It was in his nature to try to find solutions to things that needed solving. But above all that, he was worried sick for you. And Five seemed to find himself caring about you in a genuine way that he expressed naturally, even more than he did with his siblings. Five had only known you for a few months, but had come to form a connection with you; the two of you bonding over your shared abilities and struggles regarding time travel.

It was due to this common ground you two had that he would develop this much care towards you. As he was tending to you, he would leave you to catch up on sleep during the nighttime and would dote on you during the day. It was during one of these nights that it happened, he finally did it! After weeks of you being bedridden under his care, five had found something that he thought would help. He wasn't totally positive about it, but it had to work this time, he thought. It was a medicine he had made himself that would enhance your power, channeling the strength from your abilities and using it to fight off the illness. It seemed like his best shot so far.

He immediately ran out of his shared bedroom, swinging the door shut before bolting to your room. In spite of the late hour, Viktor opens the door, letting his brother in while rubbing his own tired eyes. Viktor didn't need to ask why five was here, considering this had happened a time or two before, but he had never seemed to be in this much of a hurry. The boy rushed past him and over to where your bedside sat, gently shaking you awake.

"y/n, y/n" five sounded almost frantic. He knew this would work. It had to.

He shook you gently "I need you to wake up."

Your eyes slowly flutter open, and you feel the now familiar discomfort of trying to wake up when sick. Your bones ache underneath you as you do your best to prop yourself up in bed.

He passes a medicine cup in your direction as you strain to sit up.

"Take this. I made it different this time. It will help, trust me y/n."

You took it from him, taking a good swig of the medicine without question. You trusted him more than you probably should have, considering the short period of time you had known each other. But the feeling was mutual at least.

As the night passed by, you fell back into sleep, and five went back to his room, giddy with anticipation he didn't expect to have.

In spite of how many times in the past he had said the same thing to you, "it will help this time, trust me." This time, unbelievably, it seemed to actually take effect.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt refreshed in a way you had almost forgot that you could. Hell, you had been sick for so long that it almost felt strange to feel normal again.

The first thing five did when he woke up was check up on you, expecting you to still be as sick as you have been. To his surprise, you were sitting upright talking to his siblings; already awake, above all you seemed so much better than you had been. Upon seeing you, be was filled with an unexpected rush of emotions. All of his efforts, and he was finally seeing results. He had worked so hard to get you better, hardly realizing that he had grown to care more about you when tending to your needs so frequently.

Before he could think about how he would look, about it would damage his ever unwavering pride, he ran up to you. You almost jumped when he pulled you into a tight, remarkably stiff, but loving hug.

Now that he had you, he couldn't stand to lose anyone anymore. He wouldn't let it happen. And, Above all else, he was so, so thankful that you were okay.

He's so cutsie <333

idk what my first post should be but here's my favorite blinkies + ones th@ describe me !! :) + some are made by me

I'll probably add more later

Valdemar x hypersexual! Reader (headcanons)

Note: I'm not hypersexual myself (at least I think,, not sure) so if anything's inaccurate or off feel free to correct me! :) this could be read as romantic or platonic. I haven't written a fanfic in a while (years) so if this stinks that's why

- if you're friends or in a qpr with them and you opened up to them about being hypersexual, they would lean closer to you, asking to run tests with you, check to see if anything physical could have caused it, they would lay you down on the operating table and try to inspect you for any diseases that could be causing it

- if it's a mental thing or something that developed over time they tell you "I'm not particularly interested in psychology, but this does seem to fascinate me. . . Perhaps I'll look more into your condition" they would call you down to the dungeons semi regularly and

- if they're in a romantic relationship with you, they would try to work around your hypersexuality, and might be more distant about it, avoiding you whenever sex was mentioned, you would likely have to talk with them, explain that you won't make it weird and if they really don't want sex then you won't have to have it.

- they might let you use their more demonic form as a way to relieve this from time to time, and that's a big might. You would have to get really comfortable with them before they would even consider sex. At the same time, I do hc that they have a very high libido when in that form, to the point where they're a little uncomfortable with it, as it often feels unnatural to them since they don't really want sex with other people. At most you could relate to them on that topic, but not much more.