Dating Xavier Means Naps, Good Food, Cuddles, Playing Games, More Good Food, More Cuddles, And Just Cozy

Flower prompts exchange

For @tillichan

Amaryllis- How would they act if you got sick or injured? How do you take care of them if they get sick or injured?

Xavier is somewhat of an airhead not gonna lie. Unless it concerns his lover aka you. When you get sick he’ll act somewhat like a mother hen but not a very good one. Xavier will insist on giving you some obscure medicine that he swears always helped him get better. That’s when you break it to him that…

“Xavier…baby…you are basically an alien”

Will he listen? Yes. Will he take it into consideration? Not really. Especially if the sickness lasts and isn’t getting better.

“Hey drink this tea I made you. Is there some medicine in it…? Maybe. Come on I even added honey so you can’t feel it!”

Now for food…Give him a star, this man learned how to cook your favorite dishes and even healthy snacks! Did he spend weeks training in his apartment and became the bane of existence of the fire department? Why are you asking questions you don’t want to know the answer.

But yeah, Xavier absolutely refuses to let you, his princess, do anything other than rest and get better when you’re sick. Unless it’s walks to have more fresh air. You even saw him speaking with you cat and dog, a serious expression on his face to explain the situation.

“Okay listen you two. She’s sick. Which means she needs to rest. You can’t demand snacks all the time now, yes I’m speaking to you adorable cat. Your mission is to cuddle with her, keep her warm and warn me if she’s trying to do chores. I’ll take care of the food- Why did you two whine?”

Even your animals fear him handling food. But as you can see, he takes over everything. Preparing tea just the way you like it, making sure you rest, even handling your responsibilities if possible. He is lowkey good at taking care of your garden. Your cat and dog immediately gravitate toward him, sensing his protective presence, and he doesn't mind at all. In fact, he makes sure they stay close, knowing their warmth and company bring you comfort.

At some point, he sits beside you, his presence both grounding and reassuring. If you struggle with the discomfort of being sick, he quietly soothes you, whether through reading aloud, playing soft classical music (he probably figures you’d appreciate that, given your background), or just staying near enough that you know you're not alone. And though he won’t admit it outright, you catch glimpses of how deeply he cares—like the way his brows knit together when you cough or how he lingers a second longer when tucking the blanket around you. Even when you’re sick, Xavier insists on cuddling. His excuse?

“I haven’t gotten sick in years. I doubt you can give it to me”

Famous last words.

Now if you’re feeling unwell due to an injury…it’ll be the same except he’ll have a guilty look in his eyes and will be more protective afterwards if it’s not a house injury of course. Xavier can’t help but think that this could’ve been prevented.

Now now now…a sick Xavier is a very stubborn Xavier. He’s still in denial that he got sick. It’s worse if he got injured, he’ll try to hide it but one of your animals will snitch on him by rubbing against the exact spot. Xavier will stay silent when you scold him for the reckless behavior. But you can see in his eyes that he’s touched by the concern and will let his guard down, letting you take care of him in his vulnerable moments.

By the way, if he gets sick right after you, he’ll tease you about it.

“Ah I seem to have caught the same illness as you how strange. And at such close interval. Perhaps this is the famous in sickness and in health”

Does he insist on taking his weird medicine? Yes. And they work on him because again it’s for his specie. So Xavier stop trying to argue.

It takes some effort to make him rest, but your patience and soft insistence are impossible to refuse. You prepare a warm drink for him, making sure it's not too sweet since you know he prefers subtle flavors. Your touch is gentle when checking for fever, but your concern is unwavering.

While he rests, you bring your cat and dog to sit near him, their calm presence acting as an unspoken comfort. You don’t overwhelm him with chatter, but you keep an eye on him, occasionally teasing him when he tries to downplay how bad he’s feeling. If he so much as tries to work while sick, you’ll give him a knowing look, one that silently says…

“Love. I dare you to accept that mission. I know you’re just looking for an excuse to buy snacks…ah ah! Don’t try to argue about this. Just sits down and sleep”

When he finally gives in and rests, you sit beside him, reading aloud from a book you know he might enjoy. The warmth of your presence, the softness of your voice, it’s more soothing than any medicine. And though he might not say it outright, the way he eventually closes his eyes and allows himself to relax tells you everything.

Xavier gets better rather fast. You’ve never seen a man rush faster to buy snacks in so called secret…But he also gets you a huge bouquet of flowers and your favorite food from the few restaurants that you like.

Begonia- Their reaction to you wearing their clothes

The moment Xavier sees you wearing his clothes, he freezes. His sharp eyes flick over you, taking in the way his jacket or shirt drapes over your smaller frame. There's no immediate reaction, just a pause, like he’s processing something he didn’t expect to affect him this much.

Then, his expression shifts. His eyes widen, mouth agape. Then he furrows his eyebrows. If you’re paying close attention, you might even catch the way his ears tint faintly pink.

“…did you lose your clothes? Not that I mind. I never thought my shirt could become such a cute dress”

Tease him about it. Maybe spin around or casually pull at the oversized sleeves. You’ll notice him trying to keep his composure in check. But ultimately failing.

“Did you pay for the rental? Or are you planning on excusing it with your cute face? You know what. I’ll forgive you if you pay with cuddles and wear my jacket so it smells more like you…”

Cue to him wrapping his arms around you for a long afternoon. He can’t properly explain it but it just makes him so happy when it’s you wearing his clothes. Despite Xavier often lending his clothes with no second thought to others, from now on he’ll refuse to do so unless it’s dire. He sees it as a you two things.

Fun fact, Xavier sometimes purposefully let you forget your jacket so you can wear his. He’s not being sneaky.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄

⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

You wake up early, stretching lazily before grabbing Xavier’s hoodie from where it hangs on the rack like it’s routine. He’s still sleeping soundly as you slip out of the bedroom. The hoodie envelops you completely, sleeves hanging past your wrists, carrying his distinct, comforting scent.

In the kitchen, you prepare a simple breakfast for yourself, and a plate for Xavier that you know will likely go cold. The morning news plays quietly on the TV as you settle onto the couch, legs tucked underneath you, swimming in the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling wrapped in Xavier’s presence despite his absence.

Movement catches your eye as Xavier appears in the doorway. His eyes find you immediately, taking in the sight of you wearing his clothing.

“Good morning,” you say, offering him his plate. “I made you breakfast.”

Xavier glances at the food but doesn’t take it. Instead, he shifts closer, arm sliding around your shoulders to pull you against his side. “Later,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.

His fingers trace absent patterns on your arm through the fabric of his hoodie, and you can feel him breathing in deeply, as if taking in the sight of you wrapped in something that belongs to him.

You nestle closer, and within minutes, his breathing becomes more even. Looking up, you find his eyes have drifted closed, his posture completely relaxed. You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. Even in sleep, his arm remains securely around you, keeping you close as if unwilling to let you go now that he’s found you this way—comfortable, content, and wrapped in his clothing.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The mission had been longer than expected, and you’re exhausted as you make your way back home. Zayne had returned from his shift a few hours ago, and you’ve been looking forward to seeing him after days apart. You’re wearing his jacket—the black one with the subtle white trim that you’d taken from his closet before leaving. It’s become a comfort object during your mission, the lingering scent of his cologne providing reassurance during stressful moments.

You stop at the corner store for snacks before finally unlocking the apartment door. The place is quiet but warm as you kick off your shoes and pad toward the living room.

You find Zayne on the couch with journals spread around him. He looks up as you enter, his eyes immediately locking onto his jacket draped over your frame. Given his preference for professional coats, his collection of casual jackets and hoodies is small and meticulously maintained—making the absence of even one immediately noticeable to someone as detail-oriented as him.

“So that’s where it went,” he says. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he sets aside his work, creating space beside him.

You drop down next to him with a tired sigh. “Found me out.”

Zayne reaches out, fingers brushing against the collar of his jacket where it meets your neck. The touch is gentle, almost reverent. “It suits you better than me,” he murmurs.

His hand moves to your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. “Next time,” he says, voice low near your ear, “take more than one. You know I don’t mind.”

His arm remains around you, a subtle but clear indication that while you may have his jacket, he’s pleased to have you.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The gallery opening had been exhausting—too many people packed into too small a space, all of them wanting a piece of Rafayel’s attention. You’d smiled and nodded and played your part perfectly, but by the time you returned to his seaside home, you were completely drained.

Rafayel had stayed behind to handle some business with Thomas, insisting you go ahead without him. You’d grabbed one of his hoodies—the soft blue one with white pattern of waves—and changed into it the moment you got home. Now, curled up on the couch with the artsy duckie plushie he’d won for you clutched against your chest, you’d finally found peace in the quiet of the evening.

The sound of the door opening and closing barely registers as you drift between sleep and wakefulness. You vaguely hear the soft footsteps approaching, then a delighted sound that could only come from Rafayel.

“Oh, look at you,” he coos, his voice soft. “Absolutely precious.”

You hear the click of his phone camera and crack open one eye to see him standing above you, a fond expression on his face as he takes another photo to set it as his home screen later.

“Are you documenting my crime?” you mumble sleepily.

“I’m documenting perfection,” he corrects, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Move over a bit.”

You comply, and he squeezes onto the couch beside you, pulling you half onto his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, and you feel the tension in his body from the event slowly release.

“Did Thomas give you a hard time about leaving early?” you ask, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“Thomas always gives me a hard time,” Rafayel replies with a dismissive wave. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

You snuggle closer, the artsy duckie plushie squished between you, and feel him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both settle into the comfortable silence.

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

Snow falls in thick flakes outside the window, blanketing the forest view in pristine white. You stand before the floor-to-ceiling glass, mesmerized by the winter snow cascading from the gloomy sky. Sylus’s dark jacket envelops you like a protective shell, the sleeves long enough that you can curl your fingers into them. It smells like him—a blend of expensive cologne and something uniquely his—and wearing it feels almost like being wrapped in his embrace.

You’ve been standing there for nearly twenty minutes, lost in thought, when you hear the door to the residence open and close. You don’t turn, knowing exactly who it is from the footsteps entering the room.

“Enjoying the view?” Sylus asks, his voice closer than you expected.

You glance over your shoulder to find him watching you with an expression that makes your heart rate quicken. His eyes track from your face down to the jacket you’re wearing.

“It’s peaceful,” you reply, turning back to the window. “Everything looks so quiet from up here.”

“Indeed,” he agrees, though you can tell from his reflection in the glass that he’s not looking at the snow at all. He moves to sit behind you, close enough that you can feel his warmth. “Though I must say, my jacket looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

You smile, watching his reflection. “It’s warm.”

“If it’s warmth you’re seeking,” Sylus says, his hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders, “perhaps I could offer something more comforting than a piece of fabric?”

You turn to face him, still wrapped in his jacket. “Is that an offer or a command?”

His lips curve into that familiar smirk as he pulls you closer. “With you? Always an offer.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The DAA jacket is practically a relic now—Caleb hasn’t worn it in years, not since he became Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. But it still hangs in the closet of your shared place, and on the nights when he’s away on missions, you find yourself reaching for it.

Tonight is one of those nights. The bed feels too big, too empty without him, and the jacket is a poor substitute but better than nothing. You’ve wrapped yourself in it, breathing in the faint traces of his scent that somehow still cling to the fabric after all this time.

You’re reading through reports on your tablet when the door slides open unexpectedly. You look up, startled, to see Caleb standing in the doorway, still in his Fleet uniform, a day earlier than scheduled.

“Caleb! You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” you say, sitting up straighter.

His eyes immediately zero in on the jacket you’re wearing, and a slow, teasing grin spreads across his face. “Well, well. What do we have here? A thief in the house?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “Hardly stealing when it’s been hanging untouched for years.”

Caleb fully enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to finger the fabric of the jacket’s collar. “I don’t know,” he says, voice dropping lower. “Looks like theft to me. I should probably report this.”

“I’ll give it back,” you offer, starting to shrug it off.

“Don’t you dare,” he says quickly, catching your hands with a grin. “It looks better on you anyway.” He pauses, then adds with mischief, “In fact, I think you should raid my entire closet. Take it all. Every last shirt and sock.”

You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. “Welcome home, Caleb.”

“Home is wherever you are,” he replies, pulling you closer. “Stolen jacket and all.”

Based on this request.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ how they kiss you — love and deepspace

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

genre. fem! reader, making out (quite sexual), body fondling, established relationship

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne

there's always a subtle silence before you happen to feel it— you know? the way zayne watches your lips like he's studying anatomy again— not clinically, silly! but reverently, like he might carve the shape of your mouth into his memory.

so precise, so devout, it borders on madness. soaked in tension and lust— quite obsessive, don't you agree? almost grotesque in how deeply he desired you.

the man leans in, close enough for his breath to ghost over your skin as he abruptly stops, catching himself in the same course of action he tends to take, every damn time.

zayne held himself back like the act of restraint was the only thing keeping him from collapsing into you completely, succumbing to those pretty, warm lips of yours as something deep inside of him broke that night.

he's going deeper before pressing into your lips at last— his psyche, his shadows, the way the hunger on his tongue felt different than anyone else's as he cups your face like he's afraid of shattering it, mouth crashing into yours.

not messy, not wild, instead, devastatingly precise— and every stroke of his warm muscle felt like it's been rehearsed in secret, fantasized about in sinful dreams as his hand slides down your throat, thumb resting on your pulse like he's checking it— not for medical reasons, but for control.

the kiss deepens and sharpens at the edges of each lap and suckle of your bottom lip between his teeth as his body presses you to the nearest surface with a force just edging on subtle bruising— and when your fingers suddenly thread into his hair to taste him more, when you pull him harder into you— he groans low, a sound rattling from somewhere hidden and forbidden, yes, like something sacred within him was being exposed.

and well, in that exposé, zayne finds a terrible, exquisite relief in each slip and slide of your tongues intertwining, bodies stroking each other as though this was the only way he's ever known how to feel alive.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier

xavier touches you first— although not to grope, yet to ground himself with his palm on your shaking hip while his other hand brushes against your soft cheek, and that look on him which was revealed next haunted you— like he's seeing a future he doesn’t believe he deserves.

slow, searching, his lips coax across your bottom lip, the tension behind each suckle on it unbearable as he continues to trace yours like he's adamant to make it everlasting. your boyfriend grunted like restraint stretched thin inside his frame, like one more kiss might tip him over the edge into something more, well, feral? ugh, but he holds himself back of course. 

yet just barely.

those kisses you shared weren't just random pecks here and there, they felt like confessions, truly, like a collapse of two loving hearts forming a dance of possession— each movement sharpening to the truth of what this relationship meant to him, all of it rooted in desire and lust, shadowed with emotional gravity and physical intensity of hands squeezing your flesh.

and you felt it, all of it— the tremble in his fingers, the quiet threat of his teeth brushing just behind every soft tug at your lip, as though even the smallest motion could unravel him further.

you arch into him, obediently feeling the low, guttural sound that escaped his throat— a half moan, a sound so faint it could almost be mistaken for a prayer, whispered to no god at all, but to the madness he cannot escape.

your lips stay close at all times, breathing hard against each other with foreheads pressed together, "i don't want to hurt you," his voice, thick with restraint, was taken hostage somewhere between a confession and collapse, yet his hands disobey him at last— sliding beneath your shirt with a quiet desperation, mapping the ridges of your shape like he's meant to be.

truly, if you let him keep going with those addictive kisses, he'll worship you until he forgets where he ends and you begin.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel

hands in your hair, rafayel's lips were already open and panting, breath warm and uneven and jaw slacked, well, it's all then and there with no waiting, no warning— just the sudden, dizzying sensation of being devoured by the man you loved.

his tongue was everywhere on you— teasing you, curling and invading your mouth as he moans into your parted lips, pulling your lower lip between his teeth and laughing when you gasp out in slight shock— quite literally, the man loved to push you over the edge, he lived for the sweet, little responses you'd grace him with in return.

from being tangled in your hair to squeezed within your clothes, rafayel slides down further to cup your ass, squeezing the addicting mounds of flesh as you wince into his hold, "ugh, you taste like a bad decision," he smirks, whispering against your mouth, yet already leaning right back in.

before you could even response to him he kisses you harder, deeper, lapping and lapping and lapping his hefty tongue against your own as your hips were grinding against him just enough to make the room spin and your eyes roll back into your skull.

without a doubt, every second with him felt like falling and screaming and shattering all at once— fast at that, disoriented and inevitable when all you needed is for him to imbed you with his scent until there was nothing left of you to claim.

it's there when you realize that rafayel tasted like the sweetest sin that has ever existed, not kissing to seduce, but to ruin— and make sure you’re begging him for it.

for a slight second he pulls away just enough to look at your lips and what he's done to them— and would you look at that? your boyfriend adored the lusting sight of swollen, glistening, needy lips parted and puffed up, "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

rafayel says it like it's a promise.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus

you can’t call this a kiss— no, not with the way sylus's mouth drags across yours like he's already lost the war against wanting you.

to call it a claim would be closer though, but even that sounds too civilized. there is nothing civil about the way his tongue parts your lips— wet, scorching, impatient, nothing gentle in the sting of his teeth catching your mouth, just enough to pull breath from your lungs and copper to your tongue.

he tastes it— even better, tastes you— and it makes something violent bloom in his chest as he growls out embarrassingly loud, not like an animal but like a man who's tasted divinity and was furious that he ever lived without it in the past.

his grip on your hips tighten as he drags you against him, feeling you up like shame didn't exist in his vocabulary, in fact, it quite literally didn't.

not a flicker of hesitation, not even the illusion of pause— only the dreadful inevitability of a hunger given form around his tongue, his lips moving with the certainty of something long premeditated, as if his body had been waiting its entire life for permission to devour you.

he doesn’t ask for allowance to be rougher, sylus knows he doesn’t need to.

his mouth licks into yours with a frenzied rhythm, like he’s trying to bury every unspeakable thought inside your throat as every shove, every bitten gasp, every ragged exhale that leaves his body was a hidden confession disguised as a dominating sin.

the man was not delicate. he was not kind. but he was true.

terrifyingly, brutally true.

furthermore, his tongue traces a wet line from your bottom lip, creeping toward your jaw, then dipping lower to your neck— infused with desperation and something dangerously raw.

his teeth find your skin at last— not out of need, no, but out of some dark impulse deep hidden beneath his heart, as if marking you up was the only act left that can prove he existed, that he's here, tethered to a body that's already unraveling.

"you have no fucking idea," he pants, his breath a jagged rhythm against your skin as if the act of inhaling and exhaling was the only thing that kept him secured— each exhalation a tremor, a faint admission of the madness threatening to spill over.

he smirks, "what you’ve done to me."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb

in the language of a yearning man, caleb doesn't speak— instead the silence clung to him like a second skin, as if words would shatter whatever fragile shell still held him upright.

as an alternative, his hands found your waist as he exhales deeply from his mouth when he feels your body— yet tentative at first, but with a pressure that deepens and sharpens, afterwards he leans in to kiss you.

not in a haste, no, not like a man chasing basic pleasure, but like a man aching with his mouth against yours— slow, burning, unbearably tender.

his lips taste of quiet torment, of years spent repressing the thing now trembling beneath his touch and the longer it goes on, the more unraveled he becomes— now here, his breath falters, his jaw tenses and when his tongue brushes up against your own needy one, it is with such aching slowness that it felt like a sin.

he grips your jaw softly, almost fearfully, as if he cannot believe you're letting him touch you as his other hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants— fingertips skimming over your bare flesh and squeezing at it like he's utterly worshipping you.

more and more, you want more but the kiss breaks open, becoming wet and open-mouthed, desperate and messy and ugh— caleb cannot stop and neither can you, even less when you whine at him all quietly and overstimulated, the kind of sound which made a man fall on his knees.

okay, he should pull away, correct? uh, before you'll both be unable to stop and take it further, you see the truth in that?

well, he doesn’t.

and neither do you.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

Forget xavier I gonna make memes on xavier little stars instead ✨️

Bored 😴🥱 (My jobless behavior era 😌)

On a serious note why are we so similar collectively its scary like are our 🧠 brains wired alike ? 🤔

I wish you can write me a comforting Xavier fluff? I felt emotionally tired in the past few days of moments of things don't go well or as originally well planned. 😞

Hii you!

As a devoted Caleb stan, I may or may not have briefly short-circuited when I got your request for Xav fluff. But I’m also deeply honored you trust me with this mission. So here you go: 300ish words of Xav being sooooft. I tried to give you what your heart desires—with love, from a Caleb girl doing her best.

Hope you feel better soon,

Maps 🫶🏻

——————————————————————————

🩷 His light (Xavier)

The apartment is quiet when you come in, your body heavy from the day. You don’t say anything—and you don’t need to.

Xavier’s already on the couch, his book resting unread in his hand. The soft golden glow of his Evol begins to light the room, warm and gentle, like it’s reaching out to you. “The lamp’s too harsh,” he says simply. “This is softer.”

You nod, too tired to speak, and sink down beside him. He shifts wordlessly, letting you curl into his side. His arm comes to rest behind you, not quite a hug, but close enough that you feel the intent.

His light wraps around you both, dim and steady. It doesn’t buzz or flicker—it hums quietly, like it knows this is what you need.

The weight of the day starts to fade. You feel his hand gently brush your hair back, the touch warm and unhurried, as if he’s afraid to disturb you. Then it lingers—his fingers moving slowly, drawing quiet circles against your back in a rhythm that calms your heart more than any words could.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs quietly. “Just rest. I’m here.”

You breathe in the warmth of him, the soft scent of clean cotton and something faintly sunlit. His hoodie brushes against your cheek, worn and familiar, and you sink into it like a sigh.

“You’re safe now,” he adds, his voice even softer than before. “You’ve done enough for today. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

Then, you feel it.

A soft kiss pressed to your forehead—slow and grounding. He lingers there, just long enough to make your chest ache.

“You can fall apart with me, if you need to,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I’ll hold the pieces.”

You drift.

And when you stir again, just for a moment, his head is leaning against yours. His Evol is still glowing softly, casting lazy golden patterns on the walls. His hand has never stopped moving—still tracing those gentle circles against your back.

He never moved. He stayed.

And somehow, that says everything.

——————————————————————————

Can you...

Read 📖⬅⬅

...give me one last kiss?

🎵 One Last Kiss - Utada Hikaru 🎵

===

Just in time before Dec 7... another song lyric inspired piece இ௰இ I can't tell if my heart is ready or not

This brings comfort rn 😭😭😭

🗡️ “That time of the month again?”

because we all know that periods suck and characters are not immune to the horrors 🗡️ prompt list of comforting actions

Character A is bedridden from the cramps and Character B becomes their living heating pad (cuddles with arms wrapped around the waist >>>>)

B buys A their favorite chocolates a couple days before their period starts and keeps beverages with electrolytes on hand

A takes a day off to rest, bingewatch some episodes of a good show, and care for themselves (maybe do some yoga, and by yoga I mean curl up in the fetal position for a couple hours)

B thinks that making a nice bath for A will help and prepares everything for when A gets home (A laughs and explains why that’s not a great idea)

Searching for Shark Week’s episodes online to deal with shark week in person, but getting distracted by cute animal shows

B can’t be there for A in person so they send A $30 to cover extra snacks and/or medicine

Instead of getting emotional over posts online, A digs out an old book series and gets emotional over that (they are reliving their childhood, they swear it’s cathartic THEY SWEAR)

A can’t sleep with the back pain so B gives them a light back massage with several check-ins to make sure the noises are in relief and not pain

B keeps the lights dim and and TV volume low as A battles a headache

All meals are made with ahead of time and cravings humored (“You can’t just eat straight salt.” “I know that, which is why I’m putting all of it on this.”)

A asks for B to get more pads/tampons at the store, B calls and sends many pictures as they try to figure out what will work best for A

B quietly scrubs out any bloodstains from A’s clothes as they do laundry (and they’re really efficient at it, why are they so good at getting blood out of clothing—)

A snuggling up with their pet who knows the exact spot to be in for maximum comfy (B thinks it’s adorable and takes a picture to show A later)

“I’m sorry if I’m not really conversational right now…” “Dude you’re on your period and barely slept last night, you’re good. We don’t have to talk, we can just chill.”

B brings home a machine for homemade ice-cream and all the ingredients needed for A’s favorite flavor (they spend the evening making it and declare a “dessert before dinner” day for when periods strike)

L&DS LI as fantasy historical manhwa tropes: pt. 1

Summary: What would happen if the game you once knew suddenly turned into a different kind of otome?

Content: SFW content + headcanons + non proof-reading; Xavier + Caleb.

Note: I love reading them, it's such a shame that most aren't finished when I read them. I have a lot of stuff to do for next week and tbh I'm so so exhausted even if I don't really do that much. I hope everyone is having a good week! I'm sorry if it isn't that well written... I keep trying to improve my use of English but it's so difficult to use more formal English...

Comments: Let me know if you want a part with the good endings + bad endings (that is, accepting or rejecting their proposal). I'm planning on making the rest of LI in a few days!

Xavier as the crown prince:

Prince! Xavier who you meet while he is working as a mercenary. He is covered under a heavy cloak, together with a silver mask which conceals most of his face. He doesn't talk much, eyes fixed to the front as the two of you walk to the mission you had been charged to.

Prince! Xavier who far excels the rest of the team. While the rest of the members struggle to kill a few of them every now and then, Xavier is able to slash them on a single blow, their limp bodies falling to the ground as Xavier was already making his way towards the next.

Prince! Xavier who soon disappears after completing the mission, not even allowing you to thank him for the potions he had given you after you had almost gotten cut by the sword of the enemy. You feel kind of disappointed, as you didn't even get the chance to properly thank him by buying him some kind of treat after the mission was completed.

Prince! Xavier who doesn't appear until the incoming ball. This time, he makes an appereance as the crown prince, his icy blue eyes scanning you from afar as he takes a sip from the glass on his hand. He is always surrounded by different families, all too busy presenting their daughters to him to notice how he kept stealing glances at you, his lips sligthly curving up as he kept remembering the night that the two of you spent fighting. It takes a couple of hours for the party to become a bit less tiresome, with many nobles already sat around the ballroom due to the alcohol. It is then that Xavier chooses to sneak away to a balcony, giving you a quick glance as if inviting you.

Prince! Xavier who looks even more breath-taking under the pale moonlight. His hair shines as if it was made of silver while his blue orbs make him look as the personification of the moon itself. You close the glass door behind you, which makes him turn rapidly, relaxing once more after he realises it was you. "I suppose there's no point hiding it anymore." Xavier left the glass on the railing, getting closer to you with a strange glint on his eyes. "How did you know I was... me?" Xavier looked quite suspicious, after all, you hadn't been the best actress, your eyes constantly looking at his own, even screaming his name when he almost got attacked from behind. You tried to poorly explain yourself, telling him that you held no ill intentions towards him, and in fact wished to become friends, not as the crown prince and his subject, but maybe with his other self. He looked quite doubtful at first, but well, the two of you hadn't seen for over a month, if you truly had wanted you could have run with the news to some noisy reporter, so he simply sighed, his steps getting even closer. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Xavier, but when we meet I will simply be Lumiere, not anyone else." He had kneeled, kissing your gloved hand with extreme care. "I am nothing more than an adventurer who works to gain some money." You cursed at the fact that you were unable to keep this scene for the rest of your life.

Prince! Xavier who begins to work with you as a permanent pair, always choosing the same missions of killing the monsters that kept reaching the small towns far from the city. These missions always forced the two of you to spend the night together in some lost inn around the town. The interesting thing about this is that it is quite often the times that the two have to spend the night in the same room, as all the rooms were completely filled, that is except for one last room, the one that had a single bed. The two of you look at each other with a slightly embarrased look... at least in the outside. Who would have guessed that this was all planned by Xavier as a way to get closer to you? He never intended to do anything to you, but come on, he was the crown prince, he had more than enough money to rent the whole inn, could you really blame him?

Prince! Xavier who finally asks for your hand in marriage at his coronation, the whole kingdom is watching him when he suddenly looks at you, eyes glistening under the pale moon light as the first time you saw each other. He is still wearing his ceremonial outfit, together with the bejeweled sword when he suddenly gets on one knee, at your side, his deep blue eyes looking at you with pure devotion, his voice only reaching you: "I was planning on waiting some time until I was settled as king, but I do not wish to keep these feelings hidden any longer, I want to become yours, not as mere partners, much less as your king. I tried to hide it, as I was aware of what it meant for you, for your family... I do not wish to force you into it, nobody else is able to listen nor see us from this distance, I can wait as long as you need to. Let me know when you are ready." Xavier took your hand with extreme care, leaving a cast kiss on it, his fingers interlocking for a few seconds, leaving a silver ring on the palm of your hand. "If you do not wish for me to covet you, do not freat. I would never wish to harm you."

...

Caleb as the loyal knight:

Recommended song: Love Story - Taylor Swift

Knight! Caleb who has been with you since you were young. He was lucky enough to be born into one of the most powerful families of the kingdom, that is, if you ignore the tragic that soon knocked on his door, with his parents dying when he was still eight years old. This forced him to quickly grow up, having to get away from each of his relatives, as they simply wanted to get their hands on his family's wealth. This situation ended up with him living with your family with the excuse of your mothers being extremely close, allowing Caleb to keep his surname so he could become the head of his family when he came of age.

Knight! Caleb who becomes almost a kind of older brother, with him always carrying you around each place he went, his hand tightly wrapped around yours as he takes you on walks around your garden, sometimes even allowing you to sneak out to visit the city while your parents were too busy. He lets you buy those not so healthy meat sticks, his mouth biting on the first piece of meat before even letting you grab it. He keeps laughing telling you that it's just some kind of tax for him buying it for you, how could he tell you that he was actually testing if somebody had poisoned the meat?

Knight! Caleb who leaves your house as soon as you come of age. He doesn't tell you in advance, in fact, it was merely because you were eavesdropping around your father's office late at night, it was then that you heard him talk with Caleb, barely being able to hear how he was planning to leave tomorrow. You had to clench your hands as hard as possible, your nails digging into your skin as you kept trying to stop yourself from bursting inside and crossing Caleb's face with a slap. Instead, you simply chose to sneak back to your room, fat tears falling down your eyes as you tried to stop the hiccups from being heard. This was to no avail, as a few minutes after Caleb appeared in your room, his purple eyes glistening under the moonlight, his expression having a mixture of remorse and guilt as he kneeled in front of you. "I am sorry, I was planning this since I was young. I do not wish to become a nuisance, that is why I need to become as strong as possible, someone strong enough to defend you from anyone." Caleb took your hand, moving it to his face and snuggling against it. "I promise I will come back as soon as possible, will you wait for me?" You looked at Caleb through the tears, a knot forming in your stomach just from imagining all the things that could happen to him while he was on the battlefield. You could feel the mixture of anger and sadness bubbling up your throat, but unable to do anything else, you simply laid your head on his shoulder, letting the tears fall down your face as he kept petting your hair.

Knight! Caleb who returns after more than five years. You were walking around the garden as you used to do with him when both of you were younger, suddenly you heard something comming from the small gap that Caleb and you had found long time ago. Just as you were about to rush towards safety, two strong arms wrapped around you, a calloused hand covering your mouth before a velvety voice spoke in your ear: "Guess who?" Before you were able to respond, your whole body moved, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck as you had done many years ago, Caleb soon corresponded, his arms now wrapping around your waist and giving you a few twirls before letting you softly on the ground. Just as he was about to speak you hit him on the chest, burying your face on it as you kept punching him on the chest, blaming him for not answering the many letters that you kept sending in hopes of getting any news from him. He let you do so, his warm hands petting you while the other kept rubbing up and down your back almost as if wanting to reassure you. "I know I was a fool, but know this, I tried to make it as fast as possible. I would never want to keep you waiting that long, I promise." Caleb looked at your face, now puffy and red from all the crying, he teased you a bit, his fingers rubbing against your reddened nose. "I missed you dearly..." Caleb suddenly let out, the words barely being audible despite the lack of background noise, merely a whisper that could have been carried by the night wind. "If you would grant me the honour of sharing the time that remains to me by your side, I should count myself as the happiest of men." Caleb looked deeply into your eyes, letting you take a peek into his feelings, the one he had kept hidden for all those years.

Knight! Caleb who makes his first appereance on the high society the next morning. He is now wearing his heavy armour, face still covered in marks as he simply rides on his horse with an extremely cold expression, only smiling the moment he saw your face among the crowd. Before you were able to tell him anything, Caleb had already spoken with the king, allowing you to be moved to the front so you could clearly see the moment Caleb was acknowledged by all nobles, soft petals falling around him and the other knights as the king provies them the highest reward possible.

Knight! Caleb who becomes one of the youngest dukes among the empire. Contrary to what many people expected, Caleb had no issue executing each and all of the members of his family that had been taking advantage of his abscence, with no nobles even thinking about stopping him in fear of him retaliating against their family. After all, who would even dare to confront the crazy dog of the empire? That was the titled that Caleb had won after the years he spent in the front, with all the soldiers feeling both hopeful and extremely scared each time Caleb was chosen to comand the soldiers. That was something you shouldn't know, of course, and rest assured that he made sure that the rumor was kept away from most nobles, good thing he had been able to quickly win the favour of the young king that had been crowned, right?

Knight! Caleb who proposes to you in your family garden. It had already passed over a year since he came back from war, his body still covered by the different marks done by the monsters, now being easily seen with Caleb's sleeves rolled-up . It was a warm afternoon of July when he suddenly kneeled in front of you, with the sun hitting the two of you just right, his hair shining under the amber glow of the sunset. Suddenly, he took you by your hand as he usually did, his face turning slightly red as his gaze kept drifting between looking at you and the grass under your feet. "I am nothing more than a knight, a man that has only known war most of his life, yet this time I would like to present myself as something much more than that, not as a knight, but as a man who vows to guard you as fiercely as possible. Tell me, do you wish for me to become your husband?" Caleb presented you the ring he had been waiting to be made, a silver ring decorated with three gemstones, all of them belonging to his family's heirloom.

Xavier is for the people who have always listened to other’s woes but themselves never been on the receiving end of the same gratitude. He will hear you out and let you cry and rant to your heart's content.

Xavier is for the people who have always had to do everything on their own and have become used to only relying on themselves. He’ll let you do your thing but will always have your back when you need him.

Xavier is for the people who have always been in positions of responsibility. He’ll let you take the lead but will also be there to himself lead and take care of things if you ask him to.

Xavier is for those who enjoy museum dates and book fairs. He will share random historical facts with you. He will read to you as you two cuddle in bed. He will discuss and rave about those minor characters in obscure book series that no one talks about.

Xavier is for those who sometimes just don’t wanna head out and would rather chill at home. He’d order your comfort food, co-op with you on your games and join you for movie nights, and warm snuggles.

Xavier is for the people who sometimes don’t wanna talk and simply enjoy the comfortable silence. He'll lay out with you on the rooftop or join you at the balcony/window so you both can quietly stargaze, and enjoy the serenity of each other’s company.

Xavier is for those who find it difficult to express themselves, who have always been so guarded, who feel a lot but simply can’t find the right words to say. He will be patient and wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

Xavier is for the foodies. He will never judge your weird eating habits and will even join you for a late night snack.

Xavier is for the people who cherish small, seemingly insignificant gestures. He’ll place his hand on the sharp corners of a table when you bend your head to pick up a fallen spoon/fork. One look into your eyes and he’ll do that task that you wordlessly request him to. He’ll twirl your locks around his fingers, play with your hair, and kiss you out of nowhere at random times ♡

this was requested by someone on reddit DMs ♡ who saw similar posts for other LIs..

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In honor of the Ithaca Saga and Epic the Musical in general🫡🫡

Ody and Penelope have my heart🖤🖤