Okamukoshitsuji - Sleepyhead - Tumblr Blog

It would be really bad If i actually wished that they put the myth cards (like Rafayel Good of tides) on the "eternal" pool? Like, someone POST some videos of the backstory or start to talk about It and i'm like "Girl, WTF? What the hell atentou talking about?? 😭😭"

I Just really want to understand more they backstory... The only thing i know is Xavier is an alien, Zayne betrayed god, Rafayel is alone for 800 years, that's all

Well, guess it's now time to Hug my cat and sob, brb

Don't worry, I’ll always be with you

The evento it's almost finished and i'm afraid i can't get Rafayel outfit 😭😭😭😭

Oh that little....

Love and Deepspace: Look at your grandma and childhood friend, you like them right? :3

Me: Yeah :D

Love and Deepspace:

For good Luck!

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

This card got me screaming, trowing UP, running around my whole Room!!!!!!

Hello dear friends! ❤🤍🖤💚

🍉I am Mahmoud Ayyad, a Palestinian from the besieged and destroyed Gaza 😭😭, coming from an extended family of young children, women and elderly people ❤❤ who have been suffering😭😭 for 300 difficult days from an aggressive war.

Our lives are harsh because we lack all the basic necessities of life. Everything has become scarce and unattainable. There is no food, no water, no medicine.

So, I ask you to help me keep my family safe and alive, especially after we had lost all our sources of livelihood.Please do not leave my family to struggle and suffer these difficult days alone. You can support my campaign by donating whatever you can or by sharing my posts to reach others who can help us survive the war to safety and peace. You are helping the lives of many people with your small contribution. Every donation makes a difference in our very difficult lives. But this is a legitimate campaign and has been checked by 90-ghost.

https://gofund.me/31c5cbe3

Can't do much, Sorry

Hello My dearest friends,🌟

My name is Mahmoud Jihad, from Gaza. My home, my university, everything has been destroyed. I now live in a flimsy tent with my family after losing everything. I was studying Information Technology while caring for my family, and now we have nothing. 😔

We are living amidst indescribable destruction and desperately need your help to survive. 😭 Even a small donation can make a huge difference. Every contribution is a spark of hope in the darkness of this war. ✨

My campaign is verified by: @beesandwatermelons ✅ #190 and @gazavetters ✅ #63.

My GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Let's rebuild our lives together. 🙏❤️

Sorry, can't do much....

Please!

manifesting this for the girlies during the next l&ds banner ✨🙏🏻 he WILL come home

‏Hello, can you please reblog or publish a post for my campaign? Due to the weakness of donations, they pass slowly as ice. I hope you can help me. A small amount like $10 will be more than useful to help me and my family. Thank you for everything💔🙏

‏Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundrais‼️💔🍉🍉🍉

Farah is #310 on the Vetted Fundraisers List‼️

‏Right now, donated money is being used to help us survive this war. Food is very expensive and my family has to pay rent for the land that our tent is on. However, I want to save up enough money to evacuate my family to a safer place where we can rebuild our lives. I dream of returning to university to finish my computer science degree. I want to provide a better life for my family than is possible in Gaza. My family and I have many dreams we would like to fulfill after this war. We are grateful to everyone who donated and helps us during this time of suffering. Thank you for reading

‏https://gofund.me/73d4b003

I will try my best

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

I can't do much, but i Hope this reach more people...

Forget to post It yesterday, but i got two more cards

They love me, truly and i'm really happy about It 🤭

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH I GOT IT!!! I GOT MY TWO FAVES AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

This Will never happen again, but i'm happy anyway

I don't know If anyone here have cats, but as an cat owner myself, i would be devasted to see one of my cats hanging because of this deathly, Crazy and not well done litter box, spread more of thoses for everyone!

PSA: BAD LITTERBOX

i don't usually make posts like this, but this is a truly upsetting topic to me as a lifelong cat owner, so i feel i have a duty to share my knowledge with others.

there is a type of automatic litterbox for cats being sold that is EXTREMELY dangerous and has killed numerous cats through blunt force trauma, suffocation, etc. this litterbox is being sold under different brand names and logos, so i will include the picture of the model and two links to informational videos with more evidence and eloquence than i am able to provide.

please consider not having this type of litterbox in your home for your furry friends. me and my 16 year old tortie, puddy, want the best for all your kitty friends

image of litterbox below:

here are my two video links that provide proof and testimonials of this harmful product:

This Scam is Killing Cats by penguinz0

The DEADLY self-cleaning litter boxes that have flooded the market by One Man Five Cats

Read, read this!

How can i move on?

minho x reader x jisung!! han jisung x fem.reader x minho!! fluff and angst! word count: 3.5k

summary: How do you move on from your ex who hurt you? Jisung knows, but it seems you have another way.

an: this just enters my imaginary senses that i have to write it. enjoy btw. this is oneshot guys

“How are you?

Are you getting what you deserve?

You deserve love…

Love that will break you

Like how you broke mine!

You piece of—"

Your hands shook as you stared at the angry words on the screen of your computer, your heart pounding in your chest. The unfinished message to your ex-boyfriend, Minho, burned into your eyes. It felt good to type it, to imagine how he would react if he read it. But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t send it. You couldn’t.

Because even after all that he did… you still loved him.

“Ugh! You’re such an idiot!” you groaned, slamming your head down on your desk. How could you still have feelings for him, after everything he put you through?

But you had to get over it. You were determined to move on.

That is… until you found out Minho was now working in the same office as you.

Of all the places, why here? Why in your carefully built world, the one you’d managed to keep free from the wreckage of your relationship?

You clenched your fists, staring across the room as Minho moved effortlessly through the office, chatting with a couple of coworkers. His smile—that damn smile—was still the same, as if nothing had changed. As if your heart hadn’t shattered.

How could he look so unaffected? Did he not feel anything?

You quickly averted your gaze when his eyes met yours, the familiar smirk spreading across his face. It made your blood boil. You hated him, hated the way he made you feel so small and foolish. And the worst part? You hated how much you still cared.

You were done. Done with his games, his charm, his casual disregard for the pain he caused.

Done.

“Ready to leave already?” a voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts. You blinked and turned, realizing your coworker Jisung was standing beside your desk, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

You hadn’t even noticed that you had started packing your things.

“No,” you lied, dropping your bag and sitting back down. “Just… organizing.”

“Uh-huh,” Jisung said, his tone playful but knowing. He had been working next to you for a year, long enough to recognize when you were hiding something. “So, what’s the deal with you and the new guy?”

You stiffened, your eyes instinctively darting back to Minho, who was now stirring his coffee at the pantry. His eyes flickered toward you again, and that damn smirk appeared, as if he could sense the tension building inside you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you muttered, returning your attention to your computer screen.

“Sure.” Jisung laughed softly, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh. He could see right through you. “You always glare at people like that, right?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned to face him. “What do you mean by that?”

Jisung chuckled again, but his tone softened. “I’m just saying… If looks could kill, Minho would be in the hospital by now.”

Your lips twitched, but you fought back the smile. Jisung had always known how to defuse your temper, but you didn’t want to admit that he was right.

“You’re imagining things,” you muttered.

“Mhm,” he said, clearly unconvinced but too kind to press further. “Well, whatever it is… you should probably be careful. The last thing you need is for him to know he’s getting to you.”

You glanced at Jisung, surprised at his perceptiveness. He was right, of course. But it was easier said than done.

Minho had been your boyfriend for three years. Three long years where you thought you’d spend the rest of your life together. You had plans. You’d graduate, find your dream jobs, buy a place together, maybe get married one day… have kids, one girl who looks like you and one boy who looks also like you because that's what he wanted. It was everything you wanted and promised.

And then… he broke your heart. One stupid mistake, and everything you’d built came crumbling down. You couldn’t forgive him. Not after the betrayal.

Yet, here you were, still trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you as you watched him now—calm, collected, and completely unfazed.

As if on cue, Minho approached your desk, holding a piece of paper. You felt a jolt of something deep inside—anger, hurt, and maybe a twinge of something more—something you hated yourself for feeling.

“Ms. Kim wanted you to do this,” Minho said casually, placing the paper on your desk. His voice was smooth, professional, but there was something in the way he looked at you. Like he was testing the waters, seeing how much he could push you.

You didn’t bother looking at him, simply nodding as you picked up the paper. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes on your computer, focusing on the task in front of you. But you could feel him still standing there, lingering. Waiting for… what? A reaction? An acknowledgment?

You refused to give him that satisfaction.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer now.

Your stomach twisted. He had asked you that so many times before, back when things were… different. When he cared.

Or when you thought he cared.

You didn’t answer, hoping he’d just walk away. But he stayed, his presence hovering over you like a storm cloud.

“Hey, you should eat this,” Jisung’s voice broke through the tension like a ray of sunshine. He appeared out of nowhere, placing a lunch box in front of you with a proud smile. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Thanks,” you said, forcing a smile. Relief washed over you as you took the box from him, grateful for the distraction.

Jisung turned to Minho, his smile widening. “Oh, hey! I didn’t realize you were here.” He extended his hand toward him. “I’m Jisung, by the way.”

Minho hesitated for a split second before shaking his hand. His expression was unreadable as he nodded but offered no introduction in return.

Jisung didn’t seem to mind. He flashed Minho a friendly smile before turning his attention back to you. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Minho stood there for another moment, his eyes flicking between you and Jisung before he finally turned and walked away.

The second he was gone, you let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Jisung shook his head and sat down next to you. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, still feeling the weight of Minho’s presence lingering in the air. “He just asked if I’d eaten.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t answer?”

“Of course not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good.” Jisung patted your head affectionately. “You need to stay strong. Don’t let him get to you. If you ever need help moving on, you know I’ve got your back.”

You stared at Jisung for a moment, his offer unexpectedly lifting your spirits. “How?”

Jisung smirked, leaning in closer. “Oh, I’ve got my ways.”

-

It was lunch break, and you were sitting in the cafeteria with Jisung, absentmindedly picking at your food. Your mind was elsewhere, swirling with thoughts of Minho. Ever since the news that he’d be attending tonight's team celebration, you hadn’t been able to focus.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Jisung commented, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth as he watched your expression closely. “You sure you’re okay?”

You sighed heavily, dropping your fork onto your plate. “It’s just… Minho,” you admitted, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing him tonight.”

Jisung’s brow furrowed, his chopsticks pausing mid-air. “You knew he’d be there. This isn’t new information."

“I know, I know,” you said quickly, “but every time I think about facing him, I just—” Your voice cracked, betraying your emotions. You hated how easily the mere thought of Minho affected you.

Jisung rolled his eyes, putting his chopsticks down with a soft clink. “Listen to me,” he said, leaning forward, his voice serious. “You need to show him that you’ve moved on. No more pining, no more sad looks. You need to act like you’re perfectly fine, like he doesn’t even exist in your world anymore.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Easier said than done.”

“I’m serious, " Jisung insisted, his gaze unwavering. “If you let him see that he still has an effect on you, you’ll never be able to move forward. You’ve got to play it cool. Laugh, smile, act normal. Show him you’re better off now.”

You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach tightening. Jisung made it sound so simple, but the thought of pretending like everything was fine when you were still hurting seemed impossible.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” you admitted, your voice small.

Jisung sighed, but his expression softened. “I know it’s hard, but trust me. If you show him that you’ve moved on, it’ll hurt him more than any words you could say.”

You glanced up at him, doubt lingering in your eyes. “And what if I haven’t moved on?”

There was a pause, the weight of your words settling between you both.

Jisung looked away for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. When he looked back at you, there was a flicker of pain in his eyes, but he covered it quickly with a reassuring smile. “Then fake it till you make it. Eventually, you’ll get there.”

You let out a heavy sigh, staring down at your untouched food. Jisung’s words rang true, but pretending to be unaffected by Minho felt like lying to yourself. Still, he was right. You couldn’t keep letting Minho control your emotions.

“Fine,” you muttered, pushing your plate away. “I’ll act normal. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Jisung grinned, his playful side coming through as he nudged your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

-

Tonight was a team celebration.

The department head insisted on treating everyone to drinks. Normally, you would have declined, but when Jisung nudged you with a reassuring smile, saying he’d take care of you, it was impossible to say no. Your friends chimed in, encouraging you to join. You didn’t really have a choice.

As the night wore on, you found yourself getting drunk—drunker than you anticipated. The alcohol wasn’t strong enough to numb the ache you felt after seeing Minho again, though. Each glance in his direction reminded you of the past.

Jisung, who sat beside you, silently observed the way your expression shifted whenever Minho laughed or cracked a joke with your other female co-workers. You told yourself not to care, but it stung anyway, the memories too fresh. You couldn’t let him see that he still affected you, that you were still tethered to him by emotions you wished you could bury.

But as the alcohol coursed through your veins, your emotions began building up, dangerously close to overflowing. You fought the tears stinging your eyes.

Before a tear could slip, Jisung was on his feet. “I think it’s time for us to head out,” he announced to the group, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder.

You wanted to protest, but the words didn’t come. Jisung’s arm wrapped around you firmly as he led you outside, and once you were away from the loud chatter and clinking glasses, he finally let go.

The silence between you both was heavy. Without a word, he let you cry.

“I still love him,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

Jisung inhaled deeply, his gaze soft but filled with pain as he let you spill your heart out.

“Even after everything he’s done… I still love him,” you cried louder, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of it all.

Jisung guided you to his car, gently supporting you while you vented, calling Minho a jerk, but then confessing how you still remembered the way he loved you—the way you loved each other.

“You know…” you said between sobs, “there was this one time, he rented out my favorite park for our anniversary. There were flowers everywhere, and in the center… there was this table. It was one of the most memorable moments of my life…”

Your voice trailed off, the memory twisting the knife deeper into your heart.

“I thought… I thought he was the one. I thought we’d get married, that we’d be together forever,” you said, and the fresh wave of tears spilled over as Jisung opened the passenger door for you. He guided you into the seat, gently fastening your seatbelt.

Before he could move away, you reached up, cupping his cheeks, holding him in place. His eyes widened in shock, unsure of what you were about to do.

“I wish… I wish I had fallen in love with you,” you whispered, voice raw with regret.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other. The world around you seemed to slow down, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Jisung whispers your name, his voice cracking slightly.

Before he could finish, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. It was soft, hesitant at first, but the pain in your heart surged forward, and you kissed him harder, trying to drown out the lingering feelings for Minho.

Jisung froze for a split second, caught off guard by your actions. Then, he closed his eyes, kissing you back, but there was a hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours. His hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure whether to hold you or push you away.

It had become a pattern—getting drunk, crying over Minho, and kissing Jisung in the process, that end up you making out in his car. Jisung knew about Minho -- from the start, he knew how much he still haunted you, and now, after seeing Minho in person, a deep fear settled within him.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. His eyes, still wide, searched yours for an explanation, for something to hold onto.

“Every time…” Jisung whispered, his voice trembling. “Every time you kiss me… I know it’s not really me you’re thinking about.”

The honesty in his words stung.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes again. “I wish it was you…”

“I know,” he replied softly, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “But it’s not. And it never will be, will it?”

You didn’t have the heart to answer him, so you simply leaned your head against the car seat, eyes closing in exhaustion. The drive back was silent, the tension between you and Jisung suffocating.

-

The next morning came, and you were running late to work. The events of the previous night flooded your mind—crying over Minho, kissing Jisung. Shame twisted in your chest, but you tried to brush it off. Being late once wouldn’t hurt.

You hurried towards the elevator when suddenly, a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you back.

“Let’s talk,” Minho’s deep voice commanded, sending chills down your spine.

“Let me go,” you protested, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. He dragged you to the emergency exit, closing the door behind you. The sudden isolation made your heart race.

Now you were alone with him—again.

“We don’t need to talk,” you snapped, trying to walk towards the door, but Minho’s arm slammed against the wall beside you, blocking your path.

“We. Need. To.” His voice was calm but forceful, his eyes dark as they bore into yours.

“Minho…” Your voice wavered, all the anger you wanted to hurl at him caught in your throat. You weren’t ready for this.

But Minho wasn’t going to let you escape.

“Do you still love me?” he asked bluntly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You stared at him, your lips trembling. You wanted to say no. You wanted to lie, to tell him he meant nothing to you anymore. But the truth was lodged in your throat, refusing to let you speak.

Minho’s gaze softened, a hint of sadness slipping through his cold exterior. “I know you still love me,” he whispered. “I can feel it. I still have an impact on you.”

His words snapped you out of your trance, anger bubbling up. The audacity.

You laughed bitterly. “How can you say that after everything you’ve done to me? After leaving me in the dark, after breaking me?”

Minho flinched but didn’t move. “Because I know you. And I know you can’t forget me.”

Your laugh turned hollow. “And if it’s true? What then, Minho?” you spat. “What does it matter?”

“If it’s true,” Minho stepped closer, his breath fanning your face, “then we should get back together.”

You stared at him in disbelief, laughter spilling out as tears blurred your vision. “Just like that? After everything?”

“I…” Minho faltered, his confidence wavering. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Liar!” You pushed him back, fury spilling out. “I saw you with her. You kissed my best friend.”

“I was drunk,” he muttered, his voice low with shame.

“Being drunk doesn’t excuse it!” you screamed, your voice cracking. “You still knew what you were doing.”

“I didn’t know… I didn’t realize it,” Minho insisted, his hands gripping your shoulders, eyes pleading. “I didn't know it would happen.”

“You’re lying, Minho. If it wasn’t true, you should’ve explained it then. But you didn’t. You just left.”

Minho’s eyes dropped, unable to meet your gaze anymore. “I…” His words failed him. Minho has a lot to tell but then he was now the one who can't talk.

“I wish I never saw you again,” you whispered, tears falling freely now. With that, you pushed past him and left the stairwell, slamming the door behind you.

Instead of going to your office, you headed straight for the exit. You couldn’t stay here. Not anymore. Not after this.

As you stepped outside, a familiar figure approached you—Jisung. He didn’t need to ask what happened. One look at your face told him everything.

Wordlessly, he guided you to his car, letting you cry in the passenger seat. The only sound in the car was your quiet sobs.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jisung,” you whispered after a long stretch of silence. “I can’t stay here. I need to leave. I need peace.”

Jisung’s heart clenched at your words, but he simply nodded, his voice soft. “I’ll come with you.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “No. I can’t drag you into this. I can’t keep hurting you.”

“You’re not a burden to me,” Jisung said, his voice raw with emotion. “I love you. I would do anything for you.”

You already knew he loved you, but hearing it still took you by surprise.

“If my heart was ready… I would choose you,” you whispered. “But right now… it’s too tired. It’s too hurt. I can’t just forget Minho and love you. I wish I could, but…”

Jisung nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I’ll wait,” he whispered. “For as long as you need.”

-

You stood in the middle of the bustling airport, your suitcase by your side and your heart heavy with the weight of everything you were leaving behind. The noise of travelers passing by, announcements over the intercom, and the occasional laughter from nearby families faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you.

The sunglasses you wore hid the emotions you were trying so hard to suppress. You glanced around the busy terminal, trying to remind yourself why you were here, why you made this decision. You needed peace. You needed to be far away from Minho, from the memories, from everything that hurt. This was your chance to start over, somewhere no one knew your name or your past.

You took a deep breath, your hands tightening around the handle of your suitcase. You could do this. You had to. For your own sanity, for your heart. It was the best way to move on.

-

an: sdjahdj

I love the designs and the deep they put on the characters personality, and i really like How Ortho dealed with Braces, he shouldn't be ashame to wear his smile

Extremely self indulgent au posting...hai..

Y'know... I love thoses kinda of crossovers, it's só interesting

The cruel angel's thesis Will soon take flight through the window With surging, hot pathos If you betray your memories Embracing this universe and shining, young boy, become the legend!

After a huge cataclysmic event, S.T.Y.X. will have Idia pilot a giant biomechanical mecha to fight original Phantoms known as Titans who have escaped the Underworld.

Okay so this hyperfixation has consumed me for 3 days or so. Right now as I write this I don't know how to put this to words, but Shroud brothers would fit so nicely to NGE story and vibe. And the themes of isolation, loneliness and the search for connection. And cool mechas. :) There was many iconic screenshots I would have wanted to draw too but I really want to get this out and move on with my hyperfixations. Hopefully : D

Thank you for @snbn for helping me with the designs, giving feedback and most importantly: Listening to me yap about Twisted Wonderland even tho he doesn't play it. <3

Sshhh... Don't worry, Just some reference for body

240824 DominATE in Seoul ©️pomelo_914

That

He's outfit is so cunt, like 10 across the board

demon king laios, who made the world his enemy

I found it cute

*Random Texts W/ Boyfriend Bangchan*

-🩵

This is my first first text series on here

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Ok so... I actually find this fic really good? I think the person who wrote must have searching for an while before writing the bruises and the repairs that could be make on his body, PLUS boxer bangchan is hot

pretty boy; bloody nose

fem!reader x bangchan 

synopsis: you're a doctor at a hospital where Chan comes after a fight. 

warnings: 🔞!!! boxer!chan, blood, broken bones, bruises, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding if you squint, 'pretty girl' used once, choking (m!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 4k

an: all the photos of chan at or for the Fendi show have me gagged lol feedback is appreciated!! :)) [m.list] check out my other chan fic :)) [am/pm]

It was your starting shift when Chan came in. clutching his bloody nose with one bruised hand and pressing his other one to his wounded side. “my savior,” he smiled, dimpled cheek prominent even through the pain. He had blood in his mouth, teeth tinted pink with it. 

“Someone had a good night,” you laugh flipping open his chart, “says some minor pain but you seem to have lied seeing as you are currently bleeding right in front of me and you didn’t log it,” 

“my nose is fine, it was checked out by my coach, it should stop bleeding soon,” the rag he has to his face soaked through with red. “and I’m not a liar it’s only a bit painful and I wouldn’t have come in if I wasn’t contractually supposed to,” 

“uh huh,” you nod, tapping your pen against the clipboard you held. “So your nose doesn’t need to be set because your coach, who may or may not have any medical background, said so?” 

his smile widened and the cut on his eyebrow started to leak again from the movement. “exactly,”

“and I don’t need to see what you’re hiding right there,” you point with your pen to his fingers cupping his hip. 

“nope, I’m mainly a bit sore around the arms, so minor pain. I am not a liar,” he shrugs and you let yourself fully take him in past his injuries. He's slouched back against the hospital bed, his white tank splattered with his blood, gray sweatpants slouchy on his hips. if you could see his whole face without his hand in the way you’re sure he’s gorgeous essentially with a smile like that. what you didn’t like was to watch someone's cocky ass waltz in and say they aren’t hurt when it’s obvious they are. 

“well I am also contractually obligated to give you the best care I can offer and as your doctor, I’m here to say I can’t let you go without an exam,” 

“full body?” his tongue running across his teeth as you roll your eyes. it wasn’t exactly professional to let your annoyance show but you didn’t think he would run and tell someone. 

“let's start with your nose,” you turn placing your clipboard down and picking up a pair of gloves, “lean your head back,” 

Chan follows your orders as you walk around the bed to his side. 

“How did you end up here?” you ask, lifting the rag from his face. His nose wasn’t bleeding as much as it must have been earlier but it was still messy. And even with blood smeared all over, he was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen especially as he grinned up at you. 

“fighting,” he shrugs. 

“Is this the part where you tell me that I should see the other guy?” you reach over to grab some clean gauze before cleaning up his upper lip. 

“Maybe,” he dragged out the word, the smile as flirty as ever.  

you lightly press your finger to his nose to check if it’s broken but only feel a little swelling. “keep your head back to stop the bleeding. let's now see your side and then we will tape up your eyebrow,” 

“I’m perfectly fine,” 

“Not unless I say you are, come on let me see,” 

Chan is slow to lift his shirt but when he does his side is covered in deep purple bruises. “you're going in for a CT,” 

“what? no, I'm fine it was a few hits nothing I haven't felt before,” 

“better safe than sorry I'm sure you've heard that saying before. next time don't go getting into fights,” 

“It's kinda my job,” 

“pretty boys like you shouldn't be fighters, and they shouldn't be putting their perfectly healthy bodies in distress, we need to check for any internal bleeding,” you peel your gloves off tossing them in the bin along with any bloodied gauze, chan's head still laid back as he watches you, “a nurse will be in to take care of your eyebrow and take you for the CT,” you pick up his chart, penning in the request. 

“You're not going to take me?” 

“I'll be back in to discuss the results it shouldn't be too long a wait it's slow tonight,” you didn't look up from his chart as you said it but you did when he said, “I want you to take me,” it's not suggestive in any way but the way that he says it is, deep and throaty like an invitation. his head lobbed to one side watching you, eyes leaving a trail of heat up your body as they trace your figure. 

“I will see you after your results come back,” you say, rushing to get out as fast as possible. it was frowned upon to flirt with patients no matter how hot they looked or how willing they seemed to flirt back. you went on your rounds before getting Chan's results, the nurse bringing them to you with a smile. 

“he will not stop talking about you,” 

“What?” but you can feel your heart thumping all of a sudden. 

“asking questions and whatnot,” she giggles as you pull out his scans. “Does she usually work Thursdays? Is she seeing someone? going on and on,” 

“about me?” You're a little shocked but trying to play it off. 

“if you don't give him your number I will hand mine over,” 

“We cannot give our numbers out to patients,” but your blush is hot on your face. who would know you gave him your number? no one. “we will both be out shortly please have his discharge paperwork ready,” 

“Should I put your number on it?” she jokes and you roll your eyes before pushing his room door open. 

“no internal bleeding,” you say once you close the door. “but you should ice your side the swelling will go down soon,” 

“I told you nothing was wrong, he couldn’t hit hard enough to cause internal bleeding anyways,” Chans sitting up now with his legs off the bed. 

“you should be getting checked regularly for damage that is visible, especially if you have pain,” 

“It was only a little pain,” he rolls his shoulders back making his tank top stick to his pecks. 

“you should take an over the counter pain med and then try to avoid fighting,” 

“Now where’s the fun in that? if I hadn’t been sent here I wouldn’t have met you,” dimples on display just for you. 

“uh huh sure,” you wave at him to stand, “Let's get you out of here before you steal the hearts of the nurses,” 

“the only heart I’m interested in is yours,” it’s cheesy but you can’t help the smile it gives you. “Let's go,” you laugh, pulling open the door for him. when he walks out he turns to face you moving backwards. 

“if I got into another fight would I be able to ask for you specifically or would you need to give me a number to hold onto just in case?” 

“flirty and shameless,” you say, walking him to the front desk to check out. 

“that did not answer my question,” 

“I’m sure you could find me in the hospital directory if you looked hard enough,”

“and if you’re not working? will it go straight to voicemail or will I somehow be able to get you over to take care of me?” 

“for someone who didn’t need my help at all for his little bit of pain, he sure is worried for his safety now,” 

“I was told by a gorgeous doctor that I should be concerned with putting my perfect body and pretty face in the line of fire,” 

“I said you had a perfectly healthy body,” you shake your head at him.

“You did say my face was pretty tough,” he leans against the desk elbow propped up to the perfect height to flex. “And I'm sure I can show you how perfect my body can be,” 

“goodbye Chan,” you wave your fingers in his direction walking away before you embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers. 

-

It's only a week later when you see Chan's chart in front of you again. “This one was asking for you by name,” the nurse comments. 

“of course he was,” but even as you say the words you can't help but feel the fluttering in your stomach. most people who came in you didn't see again and if they flirted you were happy to see them gone but Chan wasn't making you feel that way. 

he was alone in his room when you went in. laid out on the bed with his hand to his nose. It was like deja vu only now his tank was black instead of white. blood dripping down to his lips that smile directed at your heart. his eyebrow looked better but was still slightly discolored from last week. 

“I think this time it's broken,” but he's not showing any pain if it's the truth.

“your nose again? you’re too pretty to be taking punches to the face,” you pull on a pair of gloves walking over to inspect him. 

“That's why they do it, they are jealous,” he lifts away the gauze the nurse must have given him. 

His nose is clearly broken and needs to be set. you press your finger lightly to the bridge checking out the bone. Chan's eyes flutter shut and he lets out a weak moan, so soft that you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to his face. you try to ignore the sound feeling along his cheekbones but when you press to the corner of his eye he lets out another soft whine. 

“I'm going to have to reset it,” you say pulling your hands away from him, “you can set up an appointment-“

“can't you just do it now? I don't think I'll need all the fuss of local anesthetic i think I can handle it,” 

“It's going to hurt,”

“it didn't hurt much when I was hit I'm sure it won't be too bad the other way around,” 

“You know it's okay to admit when it's painful,” you say, prodding again at his nose, he gives another soft moan at the touch, shifting his hips and leaning further back. 

“I like it, so even when it's a little painful I don't mind,” 

you move to grab a splint for his nose before preparing him, “I'll be quick so you shouldn't feel much but it will still hurt,” this wasn't the first time you've had to fix someone's broken nose but it would be the first time you were worried about messing up someone's face. you had full trust in your abilities but your anxiety was not helping. 

Chan crossed his arms nodding before you pressed the heel of your palm to his nose, “Deep breath,” he followed your instructions and without warning you reset his nose. He flinched knuckles bleached from holding on so tight to himself, moaning as you pulled your hands back. you grabbed the split to finish the job, “see quick and easy,” his voice thick before he clears it. “I think I need a minute,” 

“I can get something for the pain real fast,” you say tugging off your gloves already moving to get the meds. 

“no no I don't need that, I just need a second,” his head is leaned back, throat exposed, arms still crossed while he shifts his hips again drawing your attention to his waist. you can clearly see the outline of his hard bulge through his gray sweatpants. 

“Oh!” you turn around fast to try and give him some form of privacy feeling your face get hot. “I um- I'll just-“ you cut yourself off picking up his chart and moving to the door.  you close the door as he tries to say something but you’re already down the hall trying not to think about what you saw. you don’t really care it’s not the first time you’ve seen someone turned on in the hospital although all the other times you rolled your eyes. Now you’re stuttering and trying not to think of Chan in a way that could get you into trouble. 

but it’s all you can think about.  

how long would he need? would he be actively trying to get rid of his problem mentally or physically? what would have happened if you had stayed? would it have been beyond awkward or would you officially have to resign for having sex while on shift? 

you give Chan's chart to another doctor to check over your work and send him off. you didn’t want to go in and embarrass him or embarrass yourself for that matter. so you hid like a coward. 

-

it was a rare night off for you and you took the opportunity to spend it with your old friends. 

at a nightclub on a busy strip downtown your friends decide to bar hop. you had a late shift tomorrow anyway and didn’t care about sleeping in. At the third bar, your friend's boyfriend starts talking about a fight happening across the street. “the guy's undefeated I swear I just wanna see the end,” 

“If you’re dragging us along you’re paying the entrance fee,” your friend says before another pipes up, “and a drink each!” 

“Fine, fine let’s go, it's already started!” all of you rush across the street joining the moving queue as people file into the building. 

You can hear the cheering already, the announcer shouting over the speakers, your shoes sticking to the floor as if you were still at the bar. but this is far from it, people are jostling each other around, and the seats all first come already full. it’s not until you’re making your way up the steps of the bleachers that you see who’s in the ring. 

Chan is shirtless and glistening with sweat, hair stuck down across his forehead, lip bleeding around his mouth guard. muscles rippling as he delivers a blow to his opponent. 

you’re almost shocked still and unmoving in your walk up to a seat. someone behind you tries to move past you and you stumble, unaware of your surroundings. 

Chan doesn’t know why he looks up because he always tries to focus solely on the person in front of him determined to beat him. but he does let his eyes flicker up to the stands to see you apologizing to someone moving past you. He's caught off guard by your presence and the right hook that makes his head snap away from you. 

the crowd shouts in disapproval as you take your seat. Chan is now bleeding from his nose like every other time you’ve seen him. The droplets of blood fell to his toned stomach each breath pushing the trail of blood further down. 

you’ve never been into fighting, not watching or participating but now you’re fully invested. you don’t even want a drink when your friends ask if you need anything. your eyes follow Chan as he delivers hit after hit to the man in front of him. and when they call a winner you’re up out of

your seat cheering along with the rest of the watchers. 

“omg is he looking at us? I swear he’s looking right at us,” your friend laughs next to you. 

Chan is in fact looking up the stands at you. That dimpled smile on full display after he’s taken his mouth guard out. when he sees you looking back he mouths ‘Wait for me’ and you’re putty. you don’t even try to think that he could have been talking to someone else because you’re delusional enough not to give a fuck. 

when you make it down to where Chan is signing autographs you’re a little nervous after how you left things. but that goes away when he grins, split lip reopening. “my favorite medical professional,” 

“I thought I warned you not to get your pretty face in the way of someone’s fist?” 

“How else am I supposed to see you if I don’t come in needing your assistance?”  

the crowd around you is clearing and you’ve already told your friends not to wait on you so when Chan asks, “Can we talk?” nodding his head in the direction of the locker rooms, you don’t turn him down. 

He leads you to the hallway just out of the way from everyone else. “I wanted to apologize for the last time I saw you,”

“no no, I should apologize I shouldn’t have given you someone else to work with,”

“no really I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable I swear I was trying really hard not to have any kind of reaction I just-“

“It's okay truly I wasn’t uncomfortable it’s natural although I've never reset someone’s bones and had that happen-“

“I'm sorry,” he chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck, arm flexing and you realize he’s still shirtless. all finely toned muscles on display the damp towel used to wipe away any blood and sweat thrown over his shoulder. but a spot of blood had been missed right at the band of his shorts. without thinking you reached out to brush it away with your thumb. 

Chan and you stood frozen, his breath shallow as he watched your finger wipe at his skin just low enough to send a shiver down his spine. 

“Are you doing anything else tonight?” he asks when you pull away. 

“you were just in a fight and you still want to go out?” 

“with you? yes. With anyone else? no,” you’re standing close together and when someone walks past to reach the locker room door Chan moves in blocking you against the wall. your hand comes up and rests on his ribs, his bruises gone from his first visit only now to be replaced with fresh ones. 

he’s leaning down close to you as another person moves around you two to enter the locker room. Chan's breath fanning your ear before he whispers, “We don’t have to go out, we could stay in…” 

he technically was not your patient, you weren’t at work and you weren’t obligated to deny yourself anymore. not when Chan was standing here willing and you were wet from just watching him win his match. 

“Okay,” your voice was low and weak but all the confirmation Chan needed to pull you along after him. 

past the locker rooms are a few offices and Chan knows there’s a secluded restroom right by there. you don’t even think twice as he shuts the door behind you locking it. you’re both on each other the second Chan turns around. hot and heavy kisses down your neck and over your collar as Chan palms your ass over your short skirt. your hands tugging at his hair but not the way Chan likes, “harder,” he breathes between kisses, “I want it to hurt,” and when you do his moan is music to your ears. 

Chan walks you back into the wall pressing you against the tile next to the sink. 

“When I thought about fucking you I never imagined you dressed like this,” Chan lifts your leg to his hip, hot hand running under your thigh and up under your skirt. 

“disappointed we can’t play doctor?” 

“I don’t care as long as I finally get to have you,” Chan's free hand slides up under

your shirt palming you over your bra. his mouth is back on yours as he wedges his knee between your legs. his thigh placed right against your clothed clit. 

Chan's hand fits right in the pit between your hip and thigh, fingers digging in as he pulls you forward on his thigh. 

your hips start to move against him, moaning into his mouth as you rock back and forth against him. “My pretty girl wants me so bad,” he breathes, planting kisses down your jaw. “I can already feel how wet you are for me,” 

with anyone else you would have been embarrassed about how needy you were but you didn’t care with Chan. not when he had been on your mind for weeks now, when every time you got off recently you had been imagining Chan's fingers doing the job instead of your own. 

Chan taps your other leg muttering, “Jump,” and you follow his orders, Chan moving to set you down on the sink’s countertop. He pulls away, hooking his fingers in your panties and tugging them down your legs. He stays on his knees leaning over to kiss you on your inner thigh. you tug off your shirt tossing it on the counter next to you. 

you cup Chan's jaw letting your thumb run over his bruised bottom lip, your finger moves over his nose brushing down the slope. Chan's smile is lazy, his gaze pouring over you. “you’re healing nicely,” 

“to have your hands all over me I’d make a million more visits, and,” he lifts himself until his lips are brushing yours, “I love the pain,” 

you slip your hand into the waistband of Chan's shorts wrapping your fingers around his stiff length. He moans loudly against your cheek as you stroke him. Chan's hand pushes under your skirt pressing his thumb into your clit, circling slowly. 

“I can’t wait anymore,” Chan grunts pushing your skirt up higher around your hips, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter before you remove your hands from his already leaking cock. 

Chan pushes down his pants to free himself before he’s lining up with your entrance. 

he doesn’t hesitate to thrust in fully pressing his pelvis to yours. both of you moan out your arms wrapping around his shoulders. chan inches out before slowly pushing back in. You whine, laying your head back until it’s laid against the mirror. 

you wrap one of your hands around Chan's neck, “is this okay?” 

Chan nods, “Harder please harder,” you squeeze enough to make his eyes flutter, the same way they had when you were back in the hospital fixing his nose, his hips finally picking up pace. every drag of his cock makes a bolt travel down from your spine to your knees. your back arching, Chan drags his teeth down your throat. 

your free hand scratches down Chan's back and you move your hips to meet his, trying to build any friction. 

“you feel so deep,” your voice not sounding like you as Chan angels himself up brushing against your g-spot. your legs wrapped around him shake at the contact, your walls squeezing around his cock. 

“I wanna hear you cum for me,” Chan moves his fingers between you rubbing your clit until you see spots, knowing exactly what you needed. 

Chan picks up his thrusting pace, punishing you with his cock, tip pressed right against the deepest part of you. “cum inside me please,” you beg, your nails usually nicely kept for work scratching him like they weren’t shortened. 

His thrusts falter at your words, his moan in your hair loud and echoing in the small room. “please I want it, I want to feel it,” your fingers around his throat give a squeeze and Chan knows he won’t be able to deny you.  

with a few sloppy thrusts, Chan is coming hard enough that his upper half gives out, laying on you. your hands leaving his throat and twisting in his hair as he shoots out ropes of hot cum inside you, hips jerking. 

The feeling of his release and his fingers on your clit send you over the edge, your legs locking around him as you cry out his name. Chan's slow thrusts help you ride out your high. both of you panting arms wrapped around each other not wanting to let the other go. 

clarity starts to set in as you catch your breath, your hair sticking to the back of

your neck. chan pulls out, the slick sound making you pulse around nothing. Chan watches as your combined cum slides out. He lifts your leg under your thigh using his thumb to spread your pussy lips apart watching as more comes out. “Next time I’m at the hospital I won't be able to forget this,” he drags his thumb up to your clit making you jump. spreading the slick around, “I might even ask for you to treat me this well again,” 

Ok, ok, hear me out, i'm fixated in passion fruit because of my mom who (surprisingly or not) eat an lot of passion fruit when she was pregnant of me.... That baby will have an passion fruit fixatition

passion fruit.

"you're supposed to scoop it out with a spoon," chan mumbled from behind you.

his hands made their around your next, his face pressed against your hair. you didn't know when he woke up, but didn't want it to be a consequence of your overwhelming desire to eat passion fruit.

"i'm sorry i woke you up channie," you pouted as you turned to look at him.

sleepy eyes and a lopsided smile was the beautiful sight you were witness too. chan's curls sprang up and he started peppering your face with kisses, his breath minty from toothpaste.

"i didn't wake up because of you," he said in between his attack of smooches, "i woke up because i smelled passion fruit."

you couldn't blame him. your rabid passion fruit consumption had caused your shared apartment to retain it's sweet smell. it was nice for the first few days, but living in a state of permanently smelling like you has just checked into caribbean hotel got annoying fast.

"go sit down, i'll bring it over," chan insisted.

you tried to argue, but he ushered you onto the sofa, all your protests submerged by the sound of his voice telling you that it's his solemn duty to spoil you.

loving chan was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. it felt like sunshine and everything nice, like soft moments and heavy yet fleeting touches.

loving chan didn't make you feel on top of the world; it made you feel like you could lose yourself in your world.

chan brought over a bowl of passion fruit and two forks. he held it out for you and you grabbed them from his hands eagerly.

"i love you," he announced, "but if the baby gets a passion fruit obsession, i'm moving to alaska."

you giggled against his chest as he snaked his arms to drum his finger on your very pregnant belly.

"you really mean that?" you snorted.

"no," said chan against your hair.

"for you and for the baby, i would buy every single passion fruit there is, just to keep you both happy."

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