#still too long for a warmup sigh

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #dad!remus lupin #dad!remus lupin x mom!reader #dad!rockstar!remus #dad!rockstar!remus lupin #rockstar!remus #rockstar!remus lupin #rockstar au #rockstar!marauders #dad!marauders #marauders au #marauders era #marauders fluff #marauders fanfiction

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nena IV

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: You always need your sister

Ingrid was glad that you were settling in at Barca. You were more outgoing with her teammates now. You played with them and you ate with them and you giggled whenever someone said something funny.

You were a possessive little thing at the beginning, attached to her in every way possible and pushing Mapi away when she 'interrupted' your sister time. You were like that in Norway too, wanting all of Ingrid's attention when she came home and unrelentingly pursuing it until you got what you wanted.

You were the same at Barca. You allowed Mapi grace occasionally, letting her and Ingrid snuggle up together as you ate or when you were playing with Bagheera but that could change quickly. Suddenly, you would decide that, no, Ingrid was your sister and that meant you got the monopoly over her affection.

At training, it was lesser and, somehow, that made Ingrid feel a little abandoned. She knew that it was a silly thing to feel but you were no longer attached to her hip as you ran around with Patri and Pina and snuggled up with Keira and Alexia during breaks.

You seemed enamoured with her teammates and broke away from your sister as soon as you entered the locker room.

"We see Patri and Pina today?" You asked, swinging your legs as you waited for Ingrid and Mapi to finish getting ready.

"Si."

"Because you are playing the ball game?"

"Yes, because we're playing football."

Mapi reached out to wrap her hand around Ingrid's waist and you quickly wiggled between them, trying to push Ingrid's Mapi back.

"No," You said," She's my Ingrid." You pushed her a bit harder. "Not yours. You're her Mapi but she's my Ingrid."

Mapi laughed a little and something inside Ingrid settled at the clear possessiveness you displayed over her. She knew that your parents were trying to break you out of it (they thought it was a horrible habit and not at all endearing like Ingrid thought it was) but she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief over it. Ingrid felt you were drifting a little away from her at training so it was nice to know that (at least in the privacy of the apartment) you still wanted her.

"Okay," Mapi agreed," She's your Ingrid."

You nod, reaching out for Ingrid's hand just for good measure and sticking out your tongue. You swung your joined arms and squeezed Ingrid's fingers extra tight. "We go now?"

"Yeah." Ingrid smiled at you softly, swinging you up into her arms. "We're going now."

You ran into the locker room in a whirlwind of energy, straight into Patri's arms. She swung you up instantly, balancing you on her shoulders as Pina excitedly talked to you about the upcoming game.

"Come on," Mapi nudged Ingrid, who remained frozen in the middle of the room," We need to get ready."

Ingrid's eyes moved back to you as she changed, to how you drifted between all of the girls happily but didn't once stray towards her.

You stayed away from her even during the warmup and stayed glued to Alexia and Frido.

"Hey," Ingrid managed to catch you before the teams headed out. She knelt down to your level, adjusting your new 'Engen' jersey. "You be good on the bench, okay?"

You huffed at her. "I know!" You grumbled, scuffing your shoes against the floor. "Gonna play with Ona and Jana."

They were your usual playmates on the bench when Patri and Pina were on the field and you tried to pull away from your sister to go join them, already growing bored of the usual spiel she gave you when she was about to start playing the ball game.

"Hey." Ingrid tugged you back. It was completely out of nowhere that the sense of heartbreak flooded her system at the way you were so adamant that you wanted to go play with Ona and Jana that you didn't even want to give her the usual good luck kisses you always did. "I love you."

You expelled a long, annoyed breath and mumbled back," Love you too."

"Hey, nena!" Ona cheered from where she was moving to head to the bench," Let's go!"

You wrenched yourself out of Ingrid's arms immediately and took Ona's, chattering away with her as soon as you got near enough.

You didn't pay much attention to the game as you sat between Jana and Ona, playing a clapping game with them. You didn't really feel the need to anymore. Barcelona always won so you took the time to play with your new friends and then your old friends Patri and Pina when the game was over.

Somewhere along the line, Patri had procured the ball from the game and was kicking it back and forth to you.

"Pina!" You shrieked, laughing when she appeared behind you and threw you up into the air.

"Careful, nena," Patri laughed as you were placed securely on Pina's shoulders," Pina's fast. She might run away with you!"

"That's okay!" You replied happily," Pina's my bestest friend!"

"What about me?"

"You can be my bestest friend too, Patri, 'cause we all wear the same shoes sometimes."

Patri grinned at you, kicking the ball up and juggling it. "You're pretty high up there, nena. Do you want to try a header?"

"Okay!"

It wasn't really meant to be.

Patri knew the moment she kicked the ball at you that it was with too much force. It whacked you straight in the face and you fell off Pina's shoulders backwards.

The scream you let out was loud and you sat up on the grass with fat tears rolling down your face.

"Ingrid!"

Patri and Pina rushed forward at your cries, feeling a little bit like older siblings who were desperately trying to stop their little sister from crying so they didn't get in trouble.

"Where does it hurt?" Pina asked quickly, looking around and swearing in her head when she noticed all the phones pointing at them and the way Mapi was turning Ingrid towards you.

You cried more, spitting out one of your front teeth.

Your gums bled as you sobbed. "Ingrid!" You flinched away when Patri tried to touch you. "Ingrid!"

You sister came skidding to a stop in front of you, moving your hands away from where they were hiding your mouth.

"Oh, elskling," She said softly, moving your top lip up to inspect the gap," It's okay. It's alright. I'm here."

You crawled into her arms, wiping your nose on her jersey as Mapi softly picked up your missing tooth. "Hurts," You whined.

"I know," Ingrid said," It wasn't really time for it to come out but it's okay."

"Lost my tooth," You whimpered pathetically, curling into the warm safety of her body.

"I know," Ingrid repeated. She rubbed your back and held you nice and tight. "I know. Let's get you some ice."

When she made to move away, you tightened your grip on her jersey. "No," You said," No. Ingrid, stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," She promised you, lifting you up easily in her arms before turning to Mapi," Could you get some ice for her gums?"

Mapi nodded, leaning towards you to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"Okay, you," Ingrid said as Mapi headed off," Let's sort that gum out, huh?"

"Bleeding," You said, running your tongue over it.

You've never lost a tooth before.

"It'll stop bleeding soon," Ingrid promised," What about your head? Does that hurt? Or your back? You took a bad fall."

"Just my tooth," You said sniffling.

"I'm sorry it hurts," Ingrid replied, taking the ice Mapi had arrived with and pressing it against your gums," It'll feel better soon."

She was right. Of course she was right. Your Ingrid was always right.

"How are you feeling?" Mapi asked when you had stopped crying.

"Do I still get a big girl tooth?" You answered with a question.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because my tooth didn't fall out on its own," You said," Do I still get another one?"

"Of course," Mapi said," You'll get your first big girl tooth soon. That's fun, isn't it?"

You shrugged. "Guess so." You slumped further into Ingrid, looking up at her as she smoothed down your hair and inspected your gum.

"Looking good, elskling," Ingrid said.

You looked at her intently, brushing your lips against her cheek. You smiled weakly at her, eyes still watering slightly. "We still put my tooth under my pillow? So the Norway tooth fairy can find me?"

Ingrid laughed softly. "Of course."

Your brow furrowed. "Even if I put it in my bed and sleep with you and your Mapi?"

Ingrid cupped your cheeks. "Even if you sleep in bed with me and Mapi. Would you like that?"

You nodded. "Sleep with you and your Mapi."

Ingrid stood up, holding you securely in her arms as you buried yourself into her neck. "Sleep with me and my Mapi."

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[tenmissedcalls]

What a Shame

So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that. (min ho x reader)

wc: 1.4k~

an: so i really didn’t think i would get this invested in this show... but here we are. this is a warmup for a longer fic i might end up posting. enjoy!

You’re starting to regret agreeing to come to this party.

The music is loud, bass pumping in your veins while you down your third mocktail of the evening. You’ve been camped out by the bar this entire evening, and you’re pretty sure the bartender is starting to feel bad for you. But Kitty and Q are nowhere to be seen, and your nerves get the better of you every time you consider joining the crowds on the dance floor.  

It doesn’t help that you’re increasingly insecure about getting all dressed up just to sit in the corner all night. Q had absolutely gushed over your outfit when you arrived, but suddenly it feels tight in all the wrong places and it hadn’t even been worth it, not when the guy you’d been hoping to notice you has barely looked your way all evening. 

But he certainly noticed Kitty, you think, trying to quell the bitter feelings roiling in your stomach. Not that you blame him. She looks incredible, really, and you’re more than happy for her that she’s starting to move on. You’ve never thought of yourself as the jealous type. It just has your mind turning over itself anxiously and you wave down the bartender for another mocktail to bury your feelings in.

This really isn’t your scene. You’re starting to consider taking the walk back to your dorm, given your curfew has already come and gone. You’re sure your friends wouldn’t mind, wherever they are. So you slide off the bar stool, legs stiff from sitting still for so long, when suddenly a hand grabs yours and you’re pulled face-to-face with a clearly intoxicated Kitty.

“How many drinks have you had?” you ask her, voice raised over the noise. Your mouth pulls itself into a frown when you smell the alcohol on your breath, and you do your best to steer her over to a chair. 

“Only… thirteen?” she begins, and the evident panic on your face has her own eyes widening. “No! Thirteen sips, not drinks. Thirteen sips,” she clarifies, and you heave a sigh in relief. You’re not even sure where she’s getting the alcohol from, but you’re sure more than enough students have smuggled in flasks of vodka.

“Are you having fun?” she shouts, louder than she has to, and now your expression is turning back into a frown. It’s not that you’re not trying - you’ve been to more than a few parties, and they’re usually enjoyable enough. But tonight is different, for reasons you can’t really put a finger on. 

Kitty notices immediately, even though she’s clearly verging on more than tipsy at this point. Her eyes narrow, and you try to backtrack as quickly as you can by forcing a smile onto your face.

“No! Yes. Yes, I’m having fun,” you blurt out, even though you’re starting to get a headache and the lights on the dance floor suddenly seem far too bright. 

Kitty shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me,” she pouts, and you suppress your laughter. “I know how to make you feel better- go find Min Ho,” she says, oblivious to the effect his name has on you.

Suddenly, you’re frozen. Right - he’s the reason you even came to this party in the first place (not that you want to admit it). It’s a strange dichotomy, the way he has you on edge and yet you’ve never felt more at ease than when you’re with him. And almost like it’s fate, you look up and there he is in the crowds.

He looks… good. Far too good. It’s unfair, really, the way he seems to glow in the lights. It’s effortless for him, the way his confidence spills over itself on the dance floor. You think you could lose yourself forever in the cut of his jawline and the spread of his shoulders. You don’t even like the color of the suit he’s wearing and yet he’s pulling it off in a way that makes you weak in the knees. You find yourself wishing for some of the alcohol that Kitty’s been drinking, because your nerves have your stomach twisting itself into knots.

“What do you mean?” you ask Kitty, voice wavering. She rolls her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is - you feel like you’ve never been vulnerable than when you look at him.

“You like him, don’t you? Go dance with him,” she says like she’s stating something as undeniable as the fact that the sky is blue. You stare at her, bewildered, for long enough that she physically grabs you and pushes you gently toward the dance floor. You don’t even dance, you think distantly to yourself. 

You forget that Kitty has this innate ability to pick up on people’s feelings - not that you’re willing to believe have any for him. Yes, he’s so pretty it makes your chest hurt. Yes, you’ve found yourself laughing at his stupid jokes in chemistry class more than you’d like to admit. Yes, you think that underneath his layers and layers of charm and charisma and defensiveness, he’s sweet and funny and smarter than he gives himself credit for. Yes, maybe you’d like to think that between the lingering glances and the lingering touches and the way he smiles at you, he’s caught feelings too. But you also know he’s not the type for commitment, and you’ve entrenched yourself firmly in the friend zone before he can hurt you. You can’t help but compare yourself to all the others falling over themselves for his attention, either.

So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that.

And then you’re there, pulled into the mass of people dancing. Whatever song is playing is the kind that’ll be stuck in your head for the next week, and when you suck in a breath it tastes like teenage mistakes and rose-tinted memories. It’s almost overwhelming, and you lose sight of him immediately, until-

“You’re here!” 

His hand is on your elbow as he pulls you through the crowd, and the physical contact feels like pure electricity running through your nerves. His mouth curls into a smile at the sight of you, and it’s like it’s just the two of you on the dance floor all of the sudden. You don’t know whether you love or hate the fact that he has this effect on you.

“I couldn’t miss the best party of the year, could I?” you tell him, tilting your head up to look at him. 

Oh.

It’s like he’s drinking in the sight of you, eyes dragging up and down your face and lingering far too long on your lips. You wonder how embarrassing it would be if your legs gave out right now. 

“You… haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” you ask, voice strained, even though you know he would never, especially at his own party. He laughs.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?” he replies, leaning down ever so slightly, and the sudden eye contact has you flustered beyond belief. “What’s got you so shy all of a sudden? Is it me? I have that effect on people.”

“No! Of course not-” you sputter, although you’re sure he can see right through you. Normally you’d laugh his cockiness off, but something about being in such close proximity to him has your thoughts scrambled. Your mind races to think of an excuse for your jitteriness. “I just - we’re trying to help Kitty have her first kiss, and -”

You slap a hand over your mouth. Bad excuse, you chide yourself mentally. You’re sure Min Ho doesn’t want to hear about it, especially since he’s firmly siding with Dae over the whole issue, and something about the phrase first kiss has you feeling almost nauseous. 

“Oh, a first kiss. You too?” Min Ho asks teasingly.

“No, I’m just…” you trail off. The truth is you don’t really know why you’re here, when you really think about it. Yes, Kitty had convinced you to come by mentioning that the party was being thrown by Min Ho. But now that you’re here, you’re more than painfully aware of your feelings for him, and you’re at a loss as to how to deal with them. And now you’re thinking about it - kissing him.

You turn your head back towards him, eyes sticking to the dip of his throat disappearing into his collar. 

“What a shame,” he whispers, hand still lingering on your arm and you swear you see stars when he leans in closer. Your hand instinctively reaches up to hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Come find me if you change your mind.”

And then he’s slipping back into the party with a wink, leaving you completely and utterly breathless.

#xo kitty x reader #min ho x reader #KINDA NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS... #pls im so embarrassed abt the effect this show has had on me /lh #i see all of u asking for min ho content tho. so i am here to hopefully provide #(BTW THIS IS A SELF SHIP BLOG DONT FOLLOW ME FOR FICS) #all my moots pls look away /lh #🎐 my writing

[earthtooz]

cw: fluff with minimal angst, reader and tsumu had an argument, msby4 is there, food mentions, probably bad writing like i just wrote this but i can't remember what i actually wrote which is a little alarming..., unedited and not proofread :,)

<bokuto3: hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: WHY DOES BOKKUN HAVE YOUR CONTACT AS '<y/n3'?????? OUTRAGEOUS.

<bokuto3: anyways hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: i miss u :( pls unblock me asap i'm sorry baby please i really am

<bokuto3: please don't be mad at me i thikn i'm lodsing my mind

<bokuto3: call me back. or text me back. unbloc k my email too thanx

<bokuto3: okay bye i luv u to the moon and back

<bokuto3: i'd do anything for u baby pls jyst talk to me again and i'd even swallow hot coals if you asked pls pls pls

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

you: give bokuto his phone back. get back to practice. bye.

<bokuto3: LOVE OF MY LIFE

<bokuto3: NO Y/N PLEASE I MISS YOU SO MUCH DON'T GO

you pocket your phone with a sigh, ignoring the way it continually buzzes with with messages and spam texts, probably just of atsumu professing his undying love for you and grovelling. pretty standard of him after an argument so intense that you had to walk out on before things escalated to places you would regret.

you can't deny that you miss him too, and it's been less than 24 hours since you saw him last.

in fact, you literally saw him this morning when sending him off to practice with a grumbled 'have a good practice' after he kissed over your forehead with a lightness rivalling a feather. a gentleness typically unseen from him.

really, the blond setter was just terrified of irritating you further.

then when you got up half an hour later, you're not pleased to see how atsumu was spamming you with messages, all conveying the messages he was scared of saying earlier. things like 'i love you', 'can't wait to go home to you', or 'did you see the photo of osamu's cat i sent'.

it's sweet, really; he is, but when you're still a little hurt from the harsh exchange you had last night, you didn't want him blowing up your phone this early in the morning.

so your only solution for a peaceful morning was to block him apparently.

something that clearly did not sit well with him because he then started spamming your socials and your emails with protests. did he not have practice to get to? where was all this time coming from?

you blocked him on those platforms too from the goodness of your heart because you had a feeling that he was skipping warmup in order to text you. if he pulled a muscle during practice, you don't want to begin imagining what a pain he'd be to look after.

glancing around the park you were currently strolling through to clear your mind, you only get a second to breathe when your phone starts buzzing again. this time, with a call notification from bokuto.

picking up, you immediately assume that it's atsumu who is bothering you after suffering the blows of how hard you've been ghosting him.

"atsumu for the love of-"

you're cut off of your own sentence when you hear somewhat muffled voices in the background.

"damn you messed up big time!" comes hinata's bubbly voice. you can indistinctly hear someone agreeing in the background- bokuto?

"stop rubbing it in!" atsumu exclaims, whining. you can picture him in your head right now, slouching against the wall as he deflates with each reminder of his mistake.

bokuto must have pocket-dialed you. you're about to hang up until you hear:

"how about you stop being miserable? your relationship with y/n will be fine as long as you apologise, this isn't the end of the world," lectures sakusa.

"for you maybe! ah already feel like y/n's slipping away from my grasp," cries your boyfriend. "and y/n is my world. so really, it does feel like the end of the world."

"you know what they say. love kills," mutters bokuto.

"literally no one has ever said that," sakusa deadpans.

"someone's probably said it."

"well if love does kill can it hurry up with atsumu?"

the dark-haired's simple statement makes you laugh, one that bursts suddenly before you have to cover your mouth from shame, hoping that it didn't disturb anyone.

"hey!" atsumu huffs before you can hear him groan dramatically again. except something's telling you that this isn't for show. "can't ya show a little sympathy to the guy who is having the worst time of his life? my partner doesn't even want to talk to me! i might as well rot right here and now."

"don't do that!" protests bokuto. "i'm sure y/n isn't as mad as you think. just talk to-"

"-what do you think i've been doing this whole time? i've been grovelling-"

"-no, you've been a bitch. i don't think telling y/n to 'text you back' counts as a proper apology."

the setter 'hmphs' and you can imagine the way he's crossing his arms. atsumu never did lose that immature side of him, but he tries, and you adore him for it. "is proclaiming my love not enough?"

"you can say 'i love you' to everyone, idiot, and you can confess your undying adoration for y/n any time. you do it on a regular basis anyways, atsumu, you don't need to double down on it just because you had an argument-"

"-but i'm scared that y/n will forget!"

the blond's outburst stuns everyone into silence. you hear a sniffle.

"what if i'm not worth the time? sometimes i get really scared that y/n might pack up and leave me because there's someone better out there. someone more patient and less of a hassle?"

it's so painfully silent, but each word that atsumu mutters is like a knife to your heart. how long has he felt this way?

hinata is the first to break the awkwardness. "c'mon man, you're literally high school sweethearts. i don't think you have anything to worry about."

"yeah, you're being silly right now, tsum-tsum!" bokuto agrees. "after all this time together, i think y/n has a reason to stay with you!"

"apart from my dashing good looks?"

"stupidity is temporary. get better soon," sakusa grumbles.

"omi-omi you're so mean!"

you hang up the call when you hear atsumu's chirpy tone again, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your own face. so long as he was happy, you were too.

that's what happens when you're soulmates, you suppose.

it's the same soulmate bond responsible for the fact that you were currently waiting outside the gym where msby practices were held, impatiently leaning against a small pole as you pass time on your phone.

then, just as you look up to check if anyone has left the building, your heart stops at the sight of a familiar faux-blond, animatedly chatting to one of his teammates. but when he meets your gaze, it takes him less than a fraction of a second to charge towards you.

instead of bracing for impact, you open your arms for him to tackle into, an offer he takes immediately.

as you both stumble backwards from the momentum, atsumu revels in your laughter and cherishes the feeling he gets knowing that everything is okay between you two. you chose to greet him after practice, you chose to go the somewhat inconvenient route all the way to his gym, you chose him and he hopes you never consider another option again.

and you won't. atsumu loves too hard and too well, warming you from the inside out to defrost any pain the coldness of life might leave you with. although he sometimes gets insecure about this overbearing trait of his, you get to show him each time just how beautiful it is; to wear your heart on your sleeve and love the world for what it is.

to love you for who you are.

"i'm sorry," he begins. "for what ah said last night, i was a real dick."

you smile. "well if you're really sorry, you'd let me take you out for some food, right?"

"only if it's your favourite."

"okay, sap. let's go then."

you think you hear atsumu whisper a 'thank you for letting me love you' before pulling him away.

#i wrote this while fighting for my life evidently #enjoy/?? i think???? idrk... #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq memes #hq drabble #atsumu fluff

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Puppy Fight: Chaggie ft. Emily

Puppy Love part 3 / Jazzercise part 2

Charlie: (hyping herself up and shadow boxing as she walks into the new hotel gym) Alright! I got this! I've been working on my cardio. Just a few more sessions before- *SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!!!*

Vaggie: (wearing even shorter spandex shorts than last time, wrist wraps, and her sports bra, grunting as she works through a set of Muscle Ups, body absolutely slick with sweat) Eighteen!!!..... Gah, fuck! .......Nineteen!!!

Emily: (hair tied up in a messy bun, powder blue, long sleeve, skin tight exercise shirt, and navy blue shorts that cut off just below her glutes) Come on, Vaggie! You got this! One more!

Vaggie: (takes a deep breath, scowls as she grits her teeth, and nearly roars as she muscles her way up and over the bar into a full extension) Twenty!!!

Emily: (jumps and squeals excitedly) Woohoo! You did it! (makes another check on a whiteboard) That's three rounds of twenty muscle ups, fifty mountain climbers, and 100 jump-ropes!

Vaggie: (drops to the floor with a sigh, wipes her face with her black sweat rag, and takes a drink of water) Thanks for helping me push through, Emily. I was kind of surprised you even showed up. Charlie didn't have another group exercise planned for a couple more days when the next meeting with Heaven came up.

Emily: (staring bashfully at Vaggie's muscles) Oh! Well, you know! I figured it would be good to come down early! You know. Catch up with Charlie. (eyes scour over Vaggie's abs and shoulders) See the sights.

Vaggie: (suddenly feeling a little naked) Riiiiiiiiight.... Well, I'm gonna go hit the showers. Thanks again for the help. (quickly jogs towards the door and stops as she sees Charlie) Hey, Babe! I didn't know you were going to be working out today. You should have said something. I would have waited for you. (shifts her eye back at Emily)

Emily: (awkwardly looks around to make sure she isn't being watched before she sneakily takes the sweat rag Vaggie left behind)

Vaggie: (whispering back to Charlie with a slight blush and a wink) We could have shared a shower after.

Charlie: (heart throbs painfully) Dammit! How did I not think of that before now?!

Vaggie: (chuckles before kissing Charlie lightly on the cheek) Another time. I'll be sure to save you some hot water. Love you. (slips through the door and jogs up to their room)

Charlie: Love you too~ (eyes dart to Emily as soon as the door closes and she zips over to the pull up bars with a smile painfully plastered on her face) Hi, Emily!

Emily: Yipe! (jumps and hides Vaggie's rag behind her back) Oh! H-Hi, Charlie! H-How are you?

Charlie: I'm good. I'm good. (obviously not good as her tail slithers along the floor behind her like a snake ready to strike) I wasn't expecting to see you for a few days.

Emily: Oh! Yeah, well, l-like I told Vaggie. I figured I'd come down a little early so we could catch up!

Charlie: (sickly sweet tone) Well, what better way to catch up and build a bond than by exercising together?! (wraps an arm around Emily's shoulder tightly and leads her over to the treadmills) How about it, Emily? I'm sure you guys up in Heaven exercise all the time!

Emily: (balks) Actually, Charlie, I'm suddenly not feeling the greatest. I think I got teleportation sickness.

Charlie: Then a light jog should help you get that good airflow that you need. (pushes Emily on a treadmill and takes the one right next to her before turning them both on and ramping up the incline and speed to 5/10 and 6/10) This should be a good warmup, right?

Emily: eeep!

-Later-

Charlie: (sitting and soaking her dead legs in an ice bath with a whine-growl)

Vaggie: (brings in a protein shake and hands it to Charlie) And what did we learn?

Charlie: (growling and baring her teeth like an angry puppy as she takes the shake) To mark every last inch of your skin the week Emily arrives. (all sad and sappy) She's still my friend! (back to snarling as she takes a sip of her drink) But she needs to remember that you're MINE!!!

Vaggie: (blushing) ......Did I completely miss something?

-In one of the guest rooms-

Emily: (whimpering as she soaks her noodle legs in a hot bath) Owie.... (stares at the sweat rag on the bathroom sink) ......*sigh* Worth it. I'll have to apologize to Charlie later. I think she liked those rainbow sprinkles back in Heaven.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel incorrect quotes #chaggie #rainbowmoth #charlie morningstar #puppy charlie #possessive charlie #vagie #emily #puppy emily #puppy love #crush #clueless vaggie #jazzercize part 2

[delcakoo]

im obsessed with hybrid aus i wish there were more ☹️☹️

what do you think hybrid!rikis or hybrid!taehyuns (either of them i rlly dont mind) would be when they found out they were getting adopted 😁

OOOO i decided to go w riki to continue my hybrid riki agenda !! consider it a warmup for the longer fic i have in the work for him 🫶 also i was thinking of picking up my pokemon riki fic since it was literally a scene from being done 🧌 sigh so many riki thoughts

3:41PM — “so, what kind of companion would you be looking for in a hybrid?”

you give the adoption centre employee a nervous smile, “um, i’m actually not too sure yet,” you confess. “sorry, i should’ve came more prepared.”

the boy with a nametag reading ‘mark’ giggles, leading you to the back where you assume the hybrids are located. “nah, we get customers like you a lot, don’t worry. just follow me and let me know if anyone catches your eye.”

with an appreciative nod, you follow him into what you assume is the bunny hybrid area judging by the long, droopy ears atop each hybrid’s head. one bunny with shining blue hair watches as you walk by with big, boba eyes, and you hastily lift a hand to wave in his direction. you grin when he shyly waves back, taking note of the name ‘soobin’ on his pen.

mark speaks up, vocalizing just what you’d been thinking. “these are our bunnies, the most common species of hybrid right before dogs and cats. they’re definitely nice if you want a cuddly and affectionate match, but if you decide on one, you’ll have to bunny-proof your whole house before taking them home,” he notifies.

you tilt your head, “what does that mean?”

“well just like real bunnies, they have a habit of chewing everything, especially if their owner isn’t giving them enough attention. i’m sure you can guess what that means for your furniture and well.. everything else in your house.”

you gulp, glancing back at soobin who’s now busy chewing on small carrot slices. “… i think i’ll keep looking.”

after getting through the rowdy enclosure of dog hybrids and silently independent cat hybrids, you sigh. mark’s brows furrow, sending you a sympathetic gaze, “still nobody?”

instea of replying you glance around the room, eyes locking onto a seperate grey door reading ‘enter with caution’. without a moment’s hesitation, you rush over in big, curious strides. mark’s footsteps quickly follow, grabbing the handle first right as you reach out for it. “hey, uh- ma’am, i dont really think there’s anyone in there suited for you,” he laughs awkwardly.

you give him a polite smile, and you can tell it scares the male a bit by the drop in his expression. “i’ll decide that for myself, please.” the boy swallows, pulling the door open for you hesitantly and trailing close behind.

some hisses and other strange sounds were heard as you walk in and gasp, taking in the sight of all sorts of unique looking hybrids. “these are our.. other hybrid options. all quite rare species, and of course way more expensive and challenging to look after,” he reminds.

you slowly walk by cage after cage, mark introducing you to a meek-looking deer girl, a giddy, cheerful penguin, and even one buff tiger hybrid along the way. most of them were either scared or curious at the sight of you, though the tiger seemed more determined to intimidate you than earn your ownership.

however, a moving figure near the back of one enclosure catches your eye before you can mention anything. you watch intriguingly as a pitch black tail swishes side to side under the dim lighting, gaze drifting up to meet the face of a tall, pouty-lipped black cat boy. unlike the other hybrids that rushed up to see you or pounced away in fear, he only sits there in silence, studying you curiously.

“oh, that’s riki,” mark informs from behind you. “he’s a panther hybrid, and he doesn’t care for humans much from what we’ve seen so i wouldn’t really recommend him.”

riki’s ears drop at the male’s words, but he doesn’t say anything. you inhale, “can i go inside the enclosure then?”

“uh.. yeah, i guess so. but ma’am, i really think there are better matches for you back at..”

mark’s words fade into the background as you focus on opening riki’s cage, slowly stepping inside until you were only a few feet from him. he makes no reaction to escape or attack; merely staring up at you with no emotion.

you clear your throat, abruptly feeling nervous as you tap your foot. the panther quickly notices your anxious movements, a tiny smirk growing onto his plush lips. “hi i’m y/n. it’s nice to meet you, riki. do you like it here?”

the panther blinks calmly, “i get free food and shelter, so it’s okay i guess.” his deep voice visibly startles you, and riki giggles breathily as he watches your eyes widen and lips stutter. he thinks you’re cute.

“well then uh- what would you think about coming home with me?”

you watch worriedly as the cat boy glances at mark, clearly weighing his options while his tail swishes animatedly behind him. “i wouldn’t mind.”

at his shocking response, you snap your head over to the employee for confirmation, yet he simply shrugs in reply. “alright then, i’ll go get you the paperwork.”

by the time you’ve slowly turned back to face him, ready to begin some basic small talk, your jaw nearly falls from your face. the hybrid - technically your hybrid now — has risen to his feet, realising in horror that he towers over you ridiculously. you estimate he’s around 6’2, and his cute, fluffy ears only make you look that extra inch shorter.

you choke at the smug, amused smirk now plastered across riki’s lips. “is something wrong, owner?” he asks slyly.

only a few minutes past your introduction, and you were already starting to question who was owning who in this relationship.

this wasn’t supposed to be that long why do i always do this 💔 other hybrid riki drabble heree

#delcakoo #delcakoo requests #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen fics #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen fic #enhypen reactions #enhypen blurbs #enhypen drabble #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #niki x reader #niki fic #niki #nishimura riki imagines #niki fluff #niki imagines #niki drabbles #nishimura riki fic #nishimura riki x reader #niki fics #enhypen niki #nishimura riki fluff #nishimura riki fics #nishimura riki #hybrid enhypen

[ilyasorokinn]

home sweet home , erik johnson

note, this is dedicated to @comphyjost. i'm sad, you're sad, we're all sad. also, this fic is part of the "life with the johnsons" series. check out this masterlist for more. pair, erik johnson x reader summary, for the first time in 13 years, erik johnson is playing against the colorado avalanche. warnings, kids/children, pain word count, 1516 words

(gif not mine. by @mattymartin <3)

The entire flight back to Colorado, you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was more of an excited/nervous. You were excited to be back and see all your friends.

Out of all three kids, only one wanted to come back to Colorado with you. Zach was the only one out of the three who wanted to come back, so you decided to let him miss two days of school and fly with you to Colorado.

When the Landeskogs heard you were coming with Erik, they insisted on picking you up from the airport. You still had your house in Colorado, but

You made your way out of the airport, one hand holding your suitcase and the other holding Zach's hand. You easily spotted the Landeskog's car. When the kids saw each other, they ran to greet each other, leaving their parents in the dust.

Melissa did the same and ran over to you, wrapping you in a hug, "All feels right in the world." She laughed.

"I've missed you guys so much." You squeezed her before pulling away and hugging Gabe, "Missed you, too," You smiled.

"How's Buffalo treating you?"

"Cold, but it's good." You smiled, looking back over to your kids, who were talking a million miles a minute as if no time had passed, "It's not here."

"That's for sure." Melissa looped an arm through yours, leaving Gabe to deal with the bags, as she led you over to the car and began catching you up on everything.

You weren't in Colorado for very long, so you spent the day catching up with old friends and doing everything you missed and couldn't do in Buffalo. You had lunch at your favorite restaurant with a few of the other girls, you visited some old coworkers and by that time, it was time to get ready for the game.

When you got home, Erik was also home and getting ready for the game. You smiled at the scene in front of you. It felt like old times, "This feels familiar." You hummed.

"Doesn't it." He smiled, "It's weird, isn't it?"

"A little. I've only been here for a day and it feels strange." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head on his back, "You ready for tonight?"

"No." He admitted, "But it's a game, just like any other game." He shrugged with a sigh.

"It is, but it's not." You shook your head, spinning him around so he was facing it, "Have fun tonight, enjoy yourself." You told him, helping him tie his tie.

"I will." He nodded, a smile on his face as he watched you, "You have fun tonight, too." He nudged you.

"I will. In between all the crying and cheering." You joked, wrapping him in a hug, "I'm so proud of you, EJ."

"None of this would be possible without you." He hummed happily.

Later that night, walking back into Ball Arena, you were having an intense sense of deja vu. Everything was exactly the same but felt new at the same time.

You made your way down to the ice with the Landeskog family, who had made a sign for Erik, which made you cry the first time you saw it. After Zach saw it, he decided he wanted to make one too, so you quickly bought supplies and made a simple sign that read 'We love you, dad' and had his number on it.

You waited by the glass, Zach standing in front of you, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the Landeskog family on either side of you with their own signs.

Zach looked up at you, gesturing for you to bend down to his level, "I miss it here." Zach whispered.

You pulled away and smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to his head and hugging him, "I miss it here, too." You hummed, hugging him. You danced around with Zach, waiting for warmups to start.

A cameraman stopped beside you and Gabe, asking if you wanted to be on the jumbotron, and before you could respond, Zach spoke up before you, "Yes!" So, before you knew it, the four of you were on the jumbotron, showing off your signs.

You heard the crowd's reaction to seeing their captain, but then also to seeing Zach Johnson and Linnea Landeskog in the arena. you kept your kids' lives private but not a secret so people knew about them.

You looked around the Sabres side of the warmup ice and saw a good amount of people with signs for Erik, which warmed your heart and brought a few tears to your eyes, "Oh no, it's starting." Gabe teased.

When the guys skated out, you easily spotted Erik. There was a loud cheer that you knew would only get louder as the arena filled with more people. He skated a few laps, spotting you on the 3rd go-around.

He skated up to the ice with a few pucks. He handed one to Linnea through the photo hole and gave Lucas a few fistbumps, then handed one to Zach and two more to you, which you would pack in your suitcase and bring back to Lila and Ivy.

He gave Zach and fistbump and blew a few kisses before skating off. You wiped a few tears as you watched him skate off, "Don't cry." Melissa pulled you in for a hug.

"It's only going downhill from here." You laughed, knowing that the tribute video was coming up later. You stayed for all of the warmups, watching and marveling at all the people.

You made your way up to your seats, where a few of the other girls were sitting. They greeted you the same way Melissa had, with big hugs. You took your seat and took everything in. There was a buzz in the air. It felt like home.

A little through the first period, the tribute video played. The video had barely started, and you were already crying. The video started and played the videos of him getting drafts, his best goals, winning the cup, everything. You were surprised to see a clip of you and him in the montage.

It was a short clip of you running up to him after they had won the cup and let all the families on the ice. You found him in the sea of people and jumped into his arms, hugging him. The audio in the video was a little busy due to the commotion around you, but your voices were clear.

"You did it!" You said, your voice muffled due to you shoving your face into his neck, but the microphone he was wearing caught it.

"We did it, baby.” He corrected you, squeezing you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head before shoving his head in your neck.

The montage ended with a video of celly's and the interview he did with Emily Kaplan after winning the cup and talking about how he thought he would have to retire and how proud he was of the team.

After the 'Thank you Erik Johnson' picture flashed on the screen, he skated away from the bench and skated around, raising an appreciative hand to the crowd, a thankful and proud smile on his face as he looked out into the sea of people.

Your phone was out the entire time, taking a shaky video as your hands shook. You couldn't stop smiling and only cried more when the crowd started chanting, "EJ, EJ, EJ!"

After the game, you made your way down to the locker room with Zach, who had fallen asleep halfway through the third period. You could see his eyes closing and then shooting open every few seconds before he finally crashed and fell asleep, his head in your lap.

You carried him to the best of your ability down to the locker room and waited for Erik. A few of the Avs (7 guys) came down to the guest dressing room to talk to Erik, but when they saw you, they changed directions and made their way over to you.

Eventually, Erik came out, and when he did, they all cheered and clapped for him. He smiled, setting his stuff down and hugging every single one of them. He talked with them for a few minutes before they all said their goodbyes and made him promise he would get lunch with them before he left.

Once they were gone, it left you and Erik alone. You stared at him, an overwhelmed look on your face as you thought about the events of the night, "They're letting me stay at home tonight again."

"Good." You nodded, wanting to spend a night with him before he would be gone again. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could without jostling Zach too much, "I'm so proud of you." You whispered.

"I love you." He mumbled into your hair, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"I love you, too." You pulled away with a smile on your face.

-

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[cuddlepilefics]

Three mistakes

Fandom: P1Harmony

Sickie: Keeho

Caregivers: P1Harmony

Prompt 'bloodshot' @whumpril

No one’s POV.:

He should’ve expected this, Keeho scolded himself, lightly palming at his middle to try and soothe the angry churning under his palm. As the leader of P1Harmony, he had been stuck in a meeting with their management for most of the afternoon, while the rest of the group was practicing. He hadn’t even really had the time to eat his meals over the course of the day, hurriedly forcing down a granola bar while they had a bathroom break. It always sucked attending meetings without any of the members present because it meant that he had the full responsibility to defend the members needs, which felt like an uphill battle for a single person versus a multiple people management team but he had known that this was what awaited him in his position as the leader. Still, he was exhausted and to say he felt starved once the meeting finally ended. That was also why he grabbed some takeout as soon as it was over, hurriedly digging in. Checking the time, Keeho realized that his group was probably already heading back to the dorm by now, while he finally ate dinner but he couldn’t afford to go home yet.

Having missed the group practice session in order to attend the meeting and represent his group, Keeho had already decided to stay back at the company building and practice by himself for a while. He barely took the time to really chew his food, mainly swallowing bite after bite, so he could head to the practice room faster and hopefully get to go home soon too. That was his first mistake. He occasionally struggled with indigestion when the group wasn’t given enough time to eat during busy schedules and he forgot to chew his food properly, so yeah, he should’ve known that shoveling down a full meal after barely eating all day would give him a stomach ache but that ship had sailed. All Keeho could do now was to try and slowly sip some water while stretching to warm up for practicing his dance moves.

Since Keeho really wanted to go home soon, he only went through a short warmup before selecting the song and playing it on speaker. That was his second mistake, Keeho thought bitterly as he doubled over after only the third run through. Bracing himself on his knees, he breathed hard and swallowed against the rising queasiness. He should really give his hastily eaten dinner a chance to settle before dancing but he so badly wanted to go home. The day had already been so long and he knew he couldn’t leave before polishing up some of his dance moves. Gosh, how badly he wanted to be back at the dorm. Keeho had barely seen the members all day and since they were so used to being around each other close to 24/7, it was weird practicing by himself, especially while knowing that everyone else was united and he was the odd one out.

With his stomach growing increasingly unsettled, Keeho was pretty close to caving and just calling it a day. If only there wasn’t that small voice at the back of his head reminding him that he needed to catch up on the practice time he had missed. Plopping down next to his bag, he pulled out his phone and slipped one hand under his shirt. As he read over their group chat, he felt how tight his abs felt despite his middle seemingly swollen. Apparently, the rest of the group had decided on having movie night and asked whether he’d be home soon to join them. Patting his chest, Keeho forced a burp and winced when it brought a rancid taste to his tongue. He had hoped it’d relieve the pressure a little but it had barely helped. Sighing, the leader accepted that with the way he was feeling at the moment, he wouldn’t make progress nearly as fast as he had thought, so he replied that he would still need a while and to start movie night without him.

Putting his phone down, Keeho struggled back to his feet and tried to give the choreo another try but his stomach cramped up so badly, all he could do was drop into a crouch barely able to breathe as he broke into a cold sweat. His hands trembled when he shakily pushed himself back up, only to limp back to his bag. There was no way he could keep practicing. He should’ve just gone home when he had still been able to walk properly. By now, every step was agony, the pain in his stomach so intense, it made him sweat like crazy.

“Oh, hyung! You’re back already?”, Intak exclaimed when the front door opened and Keeho tiredly kicked off his shoes. If he hadn’t felt so miserable, the leader would’ve laughed at the phrasing. ‘already’… As if it hadn’t taken him ages to drag his sorry ass back to their dorm. Slowly trudging to the living room, Keeho sighed: “Yeah, it wasn’t going so well and I wasn’t making any progress, so I decided I’d just work harder to catch up during our next group dance practice.” – “Are you okay”, Jiung asked, brows furrowed when he noticed the leader’s pinched expression. Nodding, Keeho have his stomach a quick rub and admitted: “I was really starved when I got out of that meeting and wanted to quickly practice, so I could join you. There was no way I would’ve had the energy to dance without eating something first but I also couldn’t waste any time. Forced down some takeout as fast as I could before dancing. Yeah, please congratulate me on my amazing life choices. I got a stomach ache now.”

Keeho had managed to downplay his current struggle well without having to lie to the members. They had asked him if he still wanted to join them in watching a movie although they were already halfway into the storyline. The offered cuddles and heating pad had sounded nice but all Keeho really wanted was his bed. Apologizing to the members for his stupidity, he said as much before shuffling to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed.

“Hey, I brought you tea. You really holding up alright?”, Taeyang asked softly, slipping into Keeho’s room while the leader was sorting out his blankets, “You look awful, honestly. Like, really pale and… are you sure you’re not running a fever? You look sweaty. Might be from dancing still but….” Dropping his head into his hands, Keeho sighed: “Feel awful too but it’s not right to complain when I brought this onto myself.” – “Awful how?”, the eldest pressed, handing his friend the cup. “My stomach’s killing me, so much that I keep sweating but I don’t feel warm in the slightest”, Keeho mumbled, shuddering a little as he clutched the warm cup, “Also feel really shaky but I don’t think I’m sick-sick ‘cause it only started after my rushed dinner.” Taeyang’s cold hand on his forehead sent a shiver down his spine, the older frowning: “You don’t usually run fevers like this from indigestion. Maybe you just really pushed yourself today and will feel better after a good night’s sleep. Can I get you anything?” – “Thanks, I think I’ll just try to sleep this off”, Keeho muttered, shifting a little in an attempt to get comfortable despite the pain.

He had fallen asleep not long after Taeyang had told him to get some rest, which had been a true blessing because he had feared he wouldn’t be able to sleep due to the pain. Sadly, he didn’t manage to sleep through the night, waking up drenched in sweat to a dark dorm. The other’s had long since gone to bed and it took Keeho a moment to realize what had woken him. The cramps in his stomach had eased, the pain almost completely gone only to be replaced with unbearable nausea. His mouth already watered, so there was no denying it. He was going to be sick and soon.

With his adrenaline surging, Keeho rolled out of bed. The movement triggered an empty gag and he was glad that he made it out of the room without waking his two roommates, who were sleeping peacefully. Already feeling the acidic burn in his throat, Keeho’s heart started to race. Almost there! Relief washed over him when his hand reached the bathroom door. He would not make a mess! With barely a second to spare, Keeho yanked on the handle but the door wouldn’t budge. There came a muffled ‘occupied’ from the other side of the door just as the leader’s stomach lurched, hot sick rushing up his throat. Registering the splatter and that he had in fact made a mess, Keeho burst into tears. Why couldn’t anything go right today?! His cries weren’t loud but the hitching sobs still messed with his already bubbling stomach.

Luckily, the door swung open before Keeho got sick again and he pushed past Jongseob in a panic. The maknae startled, watching his hyung crash to his knees in front of the toilet. Weakly clutching the toilet seat, Keeho heaved up a large wave of barely digested takeout. “Um, can I get you anything? Water maybe?”, Jongseob mumbled, feeling a little lost. Squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to hold off a gag, the leader drew a deep breath. “Taey-“, he managed to choke out before losing the fight, getting sick again. Glancing at the puddle by the door, chunky sick still trailing down the door, Jongseob promised: “Be right back.” No sooner than the maknae left, taking a large step over the mess at the door, Keeho stopped holding back his sobs.

It didn’t happen often that he cried this hard but he was feeling miserable and the day had already left him drained. Though it felt like forever, it had barely been a minute before a steady hand appeared on Keeho’s back. Crouching next to the leader, Taeyang soothed: “You’re okay. Deep breaths.” A harsh sob tore from Keeho’s throat, making him gaga again. “Ssssh. Try to calm yourself down”, the eldest shushed, “You’ll only upset your stomach more if you get worked up like this.” Drawing a shuddering breath, Keeho looked up at Taeyang and winced when the bright ceiling light stung his bloodshot eyes. “What happened? I see you weren’t able to sleep it off but did you get any rest at all?”, the eldest hummed, running his hand up and down Keeho’s back when the leader crossed his arms over the toilet bowl and rested his head on them. Closing his eyes, the younger rasped: “Been asleep for a while but woke up like this.”

“Are you sure this isn’t a stomach bug?”, Taeyang asked when Keeho hadn’t thrown up in two minutes. The leader flushed the toilet and hummed: “I felt fine before dinner, so I don’t think so though it’s worse than my usual indigestion when I eat too fast. Honestly, I swallowed my food so fast, I wouldn’t have been able to tell if something tasted off about it, so… could be food poisoning, I dunno.” Apparently, not paying attention to the condition of his food was Keeho’s third mistake. Feeling the back of Keeho’s neck Taeyang nodded despite his dongsaeng not able to see it. “That’d explain the mild fever you’re running. It can’t still be from dancing. Like, you’re not burning but it’s definitely there”, he observed, “Do you think you’re done? We should get you cleaned up and back to bed.”

Getting up on shaky legs, Keeho paled fast as his stomach churned. Only when he looked up did he spot Shota at the door, the younger having woken up when Jongseob came to wake Taeyang. Keeho’s bloodshot eyes met his dongsaeng’s worried ones and he mumbled: “I’m okay. Sorry for waking you up. You can go back to bed.” Shota only shook his head, watching the leader rinse his mouth and wash his face before following the two eldest to the room Taeyang shared with the two maknaes. The three of the were all up already, so why risk waking Jiung and Intak. “Alright, you lie down and try to get some rest”, Taeyang instructed, “I’ll go clean up and fetch a bucket really quick.” Nodding in defeat, Keeho couldn’t help but feel guilty for making a mess but a tap on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. Jongseob handed him a glass of water and encouraged him to have a few sips before Shota pulled the leader to bed and climbed him behind him. “I don’t think you want that”, Keeho slurred tiredly, “I’ll probably be up puking again soon.” The younger only commented that with a Minecraft sound while curling up against the leader’s back, shyly slipping a hand under his hyung’s shirt.

Under Shota’s light touch, Keeho relaxed and felt himself sink further into the mattress. With how drained he had been, was already asleep when Taeyang returned und placed a bucket next to him.

#whumpril #fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #sick #emeto #p1harmony #whumpril2024 #whumprilday8

[queer-in-a-cornfield]

Some of us on the discord were discussing what Dewey would be like as an adult yesterday, prompting this little fic (1325 words) based on my hc that Dewey would become a stage actor

Dewey walks down the busy streets of New York, humming some vocal warmups. While he appears as calm and collected as he ever does, his mind is racing a mile a minute.

Today was his Broadway debut, and he was equal parts excited and nervous. He’d done many a show in the past but those were different. This was BROADWAY, the gold standard of theatre. Sure, this wasn’t a principal role or anything, he was just replacing a departing ensemble member, but still! A Broadway debut is a Broadway debut. It’s a big day, and he’s freaking out a little.

He rounds the corner of the theatre and opens the stage door, making a pit stop to check in for the day and readjust his bag. He nearly drops his coffee but manages to set it down to adjust his grip before continuing on to his dressing room.

He swings the door open and finds that Rico and Alex, the castmates who share the room with him had already arrived.

“Hey, guys!” Dewey says as he walks over to his designated area. He pauses suddenly before he can put his things down. “What’s all this?”

Surrounding his mirror were a pair of blue balloons, some confetti, and a handwritten banner on top that read “Congrats on your debut!”

Rico speaks up, “It’s your first show tonight, Dewey! If that isn’t cause for celebration I don’t know what is.” Alex nods in agreement.

“Aw, thanks guys,” Dewey smiles, clearing away some of the confetti to put down his bag.

“So how’re you feeling? Ready to show the world what you’re made of?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he says, pulling out his notes to review once he finishes warming up.

He spends the next few minutes stretching, uncharacteristically quiet, before sighing and asking, “Guys, you’ve both done this for a while, so… how did you get over the nerves? It still feels insane that I’m even here, and I’m really worried that something’ll go wrong and ruin my chances of continuing here.”

Rico sighs, “I’m not gonna lie, that fear just takes time to get over. But trust me, you’re gonna do great tonight, and soon enough you won’t be so anxious anymore.”

The trio sit in silence for a moment before Alex pipes up, “Didn’t you mention that one of your brothers had a history with anxiety? Maybe he’ll have some advice for you.”

Dewey nods, then grabs his phone from his pocket, pulls up Huey’s contact, and starts a video call.

“Hey Dewey, what’s up?” Huey’s voice picks up through the phone speakers.

“Hi, Hubert. Did you guys just land or something?” Dewey asks, noticing Huey’s surroundings.

“Yeah, we just landed, oh… fifteen minutes ago? We just got to baggage claim- sorry, one sec,” he says, turning to talk to someone off-screen.

Suddenly Uncle Scrooge appears on screen. “Dewey, lad! Can- can ya see me- how does this thing- curse me kilts, what did Ah just-“ Scrooge says as he confusedly fiddles with the phone.

“Uncle Scrooge, I’ll hold the phone for you,” Huey interjects as he grabs his phone back and centers them both on screen.

“So why’d you want to talk to me, Dew?” Huey asks.

Dewey pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. But he pauses a moment too long because more faces suddenly attempt to crowd into the view of Huey’s phone camera, all trying to greet him at once. Dewey snickers a little watching Uncle Donald, the last one to get back from claiming their baggage, trying to squeeze into view with little success.

“Hey guys,” Dewey says. “I love you all, but if I could maybe just talk to Huey for a second? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Reluctantly the rest of the group backs out of frame, leaving once again only Huey.

Sighing amusedly, Huey asks, “Okay, so what did you want me for, Dew?”

“Okay, so, like, I was wondering, basically, like-,” Dewey pauses for a second. “How do you handle your anxiety? Cause I’m kinda freaking out a little right now.”

Huey thinks for a moment. “Well, different things work for different people, but whenever my nerves are getting to me I usually like to take some deep breaths, or you could do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, ummm… yeah, I’d say those are my go-to's. I’d also say that drinking coffee wouldn’t help with nerves at all but I don’t think you’d listen to that one, so…”

Dewey laughs, “Thanks, Huey.”

“Of course, Dew. And also remember, we’re all gonna be there cheering for yo-,” Huey gets cut off by a nearby thud, which he turns to look at.

“Uncle Donald’s suitcase just broke,” Huey explains, walking over to help. “You’re gonna do great tonight and we can’t wait to see you after the show! Break a leg!” Huey signs off.

“Bye Huey, see you guys later,” Dewey replies, ending the call.

“Man, it’s still so weird to me that the richest duck in the world is your uncle,” Alex says.

“I don’t know if that’s more surprising or the fact that he doesn’t have a private plane to get here on,” Rico adds.

“Well, we do have a plane but the pilot can’t make it out here until next week. Aaaaand I’m realizing how much of a spoiled rich kid I sound like right now,” Dewey starts laughing again.

“Nah, if you want a really spoiled rich kid that would be more of a… what’s his name? That creep who got all his money from his grandmeemawmaw or whatever?” Alex retorts.

“Doofus Drake?” Rico supplies.

“Yes, him!”

“Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it,” Dewey exclaims, getting back into his stretching.

——————————————————————-

Dewey opens up the stage door to exit the building. It was dark out now. He was one of the earlier cast members out of the doors, so there was a pretty good-sized crowd greeting him. As he worms his way through them, some congratulate him for making his Broadway debut, and one woman even asks for a picture, which catches him slightly off guard.

Eventually, he makes his way past the main crowd where he is finally greeted by his family, who all promptly give him a bear hug.

“Dewey!!! That was amazing!” Webby exclaims once they all pull away.

“I knew you’d do great,” Huey concurs, grinning.

“Theatre has never been my thing, so believe me when I say that that absolutely blew me away,” Louie adds.

“I’m so proud of ye, lad,” Scrooge says. “Ye’ve done well for yerself.”

Uncle Donald, at a loss for words, smiles and gives him another bear hug.

Della then pries Donald off of him to give him her own hug.

“You boys never cease to make me proud,” she says as she lets him go.

“Aw, you guys,” Dewey says, laughing a little. “You’re gonna get me emotional.”

“We’ve all been emotional since you came on stage, it’s your turn now,” Huey jokes.

Dewey laughs, “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to interrupt a nice family moment, but would you guys like a picture?” Rico says suddenly from behind Dewey, startling him.

“Oh my god, Rico! You can’t scare me like that!”

Dewey recollects himself and turns back to face his family.

“Guys, this is Rico, one of my castmates. Fam, Rico, Rico, fam. And yeah, I think we’d like a picture.”

An obscene amount of pictures later, everyone has their phones back with significantly less storage space than before.

“Thanks, Rico!” Dewey calls out as his castmate departs.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells back.

“Well,” Della says. “I think it’s time for some celebration! What time were those reservations for, Uncle Scrooge?”

“… In ten minutes.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get going then!” She exclaims, prompting the group to hurry off to this restaurant, dragging a confused but happy Dewey along with them.

#this does not have a name yet but the Google doc is called Broa-Dew-ay #because puns #wrote 80% of this on five hours of sleep and the other 20% on 4 hours #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #dewey duck #ducktales fanfiction #also bonus fun fact I named Dewey’s castmates after two of my friends from choir

[cyberneticasset]

Continuation of this[Ao3]

Notes at the end!

<3

God fucking dammit

Brock got the news right as he was about to take the first sip of his coffee.

It was supposed to be a.. Relaxing morning— His team was supposed to be running drills, making sure the Asset was in working order— Routine maintenance.

He was supposed to be sitting back, drinking his coffee, and supervising.

Now he had to go fix whatever mess they made.

“Why the muzzle?” Brock tilted his head, looking at the four men in front of him— The Soldier, escorted by the three men left on his team.

“Bite risk.” The one holding the Asset’s chain replied, eyeing the man uneasily. “We lost Esmond, Yates, and Fuller.”

Brock couldn’t help but close his eyes, running a hand down his face.

The other two were idiots— But Esmond? Fuck

Brock was looking forward to working with that one.

“He got too close,” The agent continued, “The Asset put his head basically through the far wall.”

All Brock could do was sigh, sadly shaking his head, “I’ll deal with him, go and clean up the mess outside.”

<>

“He was just a kid,” The already dark lines in the man’s face deepened, his voice barely a rasp.

“Three men.” He spat, the volume of his voice unchanging. “You got three of my men killed today.”

The Asset was a pathetic sight, even coated in gore. He stared blankly at the ground and Brock could see the muscles in his throat still twitching from the effects of the cattle prod.

He resisted the urge to curl his lip, as he watched the Asset’s head sink lower.

How was this the most feared assassin in history?

It almost made him sad, until he saw the look in the Soldier’s eyes.

Pure, unbridled hatred.. Rage blazed coldly in the Soldier’s eyes.

“You think you got one over on us, hm?” Brock half-regretted sending the rest of his team away, but he stepped forward, stun baton in hand. The Asset barely reacted, his gaze only flickering over to the weapon in his hand.

Brock’s fist across his cheekbone sent him stumbling back, though his balance was quickly regained— He saw the Asset brace against the ground and he set off the stun baton, “Not so fast.” He said, taking another slow step forward. “You’ve been thawed too long, and we still need you.”

One more step, the Asset stayed still, eyes locked to his.

“And we can’t use the chair to fix you,” Brock raised the baton, cocking his head to the side as he placed it under the Soldier’s jaw. “So this will have to do.”

He set it off once more, watching as the Soldier’s body locked up, his eyes rolling back in his head as he slowly collapsed to the ground.

“Будь еще,” Be still

The Asset did as instructed, settling down the rest of the way once he got control of his limbs again, because he had enough programming still in him or because he wasn’t completely braindead, Brock didn’t know, or care- He just knew he needed to get the Asset back in line.

And he wanted revenge.

Just a little warmup— That was fun! I’ve never written a Rumlow POV before

I also haven’t written ~*trash*~ in years, let alone smut, so I gotta work back up to that.

Prompts, ideas, and requests always open <3 [For Fic and Art]

#POV: Brock Rumlow #Anarchy Writes #no smut #not yet #winter soldier #hydra trash party #htp #brock rumlow #crossbones #the winter soldier #rumbuck #Kinda? #winterbones #not really? #bucky barnes #marvel #MCU #captain america: winter soldier #catws #trash #ficlet #hydra trash #hydra trash party adjacent #hydra #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump scenario #winter soldier whump

[tavyliasin]

Forbidden Papers - Drabble~

A short Raphael/Haarlep warmup from earlier - not too spicy, but there might be a little hint of a callout to those of us who fill our pages with art and fiction of our beloved fiends~ It was meant to be shorter, but as often happens when I start writing dialogue for these two they just took over and I had 350 words in a 15 minute sprint (my average is 200-250 usually). So, some mild smut below the cut, and if you feel like continuing from where this leaves off please be my guest and reblog with your additions! (Also I forgot to mention, Raphael is in cambion form here, but is still just half an inch shorter than Haarlep because it's funnier that way~)

Raphael pushed his glasses back up his nose to meet the crinkle above the bridge that began at his brow. The pages before him were unceremoniously slammed back to the desk with a heavy sigh, his hand moving up in a vain attempt to iron out his frown. “Oh dear, Archduke, are mere mortal words enough to vex you now? Here I thought you ready to take over all nine hells, a rule that will last eternally under a tight fist.” The smirking incubus peered over his shoulder, snatching a page from the top of the stack before the cambion could relax. “Ah, well I see there certainly is something to do with a fist here~” “Do not try my patience, Harlot, you will find it thinner than your control over your libido.” Raphael gave up on that page, quickly dismissing the others to some unseen locked drawer with a swift wave of his hand. “I thought these were some of your contracts? You gave them the inspiration to write, to create art, and…” Haarlep stifled another laugh a little too slowly. “You have to let me meet some of these clients. They are quite fascinating~” The cambion seemed to have a change of heart about letting the mocking incubus keep even a single page, swiftly standing and turning to grab it from crimson fingers, knocking his chair to the floor in the process. Unfortunately for him, his reach was just a fraction too short as Haarlep held it aloft, their other hand coming to grip his chin. “Remember your place, Master. You are in your House, but my room.” Their talons dug in to his skin, blood pricking along his jawline. “I’ve been needing some new reading material, won’t you bring more back for me?~” Their tone changed from threatening to saccharine in an instant, not dissimilar to how Raphael’s own voice would switch around manipulations with his clients. “Absolutely not.” “I’ll make it worth your while~” They punctuated the promise with a kiss, quickly deepening it to catch his tongue before he could utter any further protest, delighting at how swiftly he began to soften as he gave in to the lust. Their grip on his chin eased to a caress, drifting up his cheek, coming to rest with their fingers entwined in his hair. A lie of affection that was not to last long. The grip tightened, pulling on his hair to drag greedy lips away from their kiss once more. “Now, bring me plenty more of this,” they waved the paper in the air above them, “or I will keep you from pleasure’s bliss until you do.” Raphael looked about to complain, the crinkle at the bridge of his nose returning…but he soon relented. Pages appeared in his hand with a curl of heatless flames. “Fail to satisfy me and you will get no more than this.” “Fail? Me?” Haarlep did not hold back their laugh this time, wings rising behind them as a silent threat. “You are simply adorable, Archduke. Now, I suggest you remove everything from that desk that you do not wish to be broken, then place yourself upon it.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #haarlep #bg3 raphael #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #raphael x haarlep #bg3 haarlep #drabble #warmup drabble #short drabble #drabbles #please feel free to continue this and add to it!

[m0thmellow]

Nature's fine beings | Astarion x M!Tav

The shadow-cursed lands are no place for Tav, their dragonborn druid leader. Astarion notices the man having a hard time and lets him hang around for a bit.

Or; Astarion fixes his jacket while dragonborn Tav gets fed snacks and comfort.

All my warmups are beginning to just create their own story, so here's Tav the dragonborn in case anyone was curious. Cross-posted on Archive probably.

Sticking to the shadows was something Astarion had been used to for centuries, considering being in the light could very well end his second life as fast as it began. Though, trudging through the shadow cursed lands had him on edge just as much as the rest of their team, their torches were clutched close to their bodies with Tav carrying the lantern up front for better coverage.

The dragonborn himself seemed.. well, stressed. The lack of nature and the dreaded shadows had the man’s frills grow rigid whenever he picked up any kind of noise. Astarion didn’t blame him, there was no noise that was deemed good in this situation, as most wildlife and other noisy things weren’t present apart from the cursed ones.

Astarion did not want to encounter another shadow-cursed needle blight.

Still picking the remainders from his once lovely jacket, cursing to himself as the seams ripped from the small needle. That must’ve caught the attention of .. something, because within another second they were thrusted into another battle, this time surrounded by shadows and Harpers - which Astarion hadn’t even registered, too busy with his vanity project. 

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

The harpers had a protected Inn as a base, one that was now open to their merry band of weirdos. Astarion was delighted so to say, eyes scanning along the innards of the building, noticing the young tieflings that they had saved back at the grove. They had come across the carnage on the road, Tav had seen it but hadn’t spoken a word about the subject.

All the acknowledgement they got was a sad nod after Wyll’s comment about the poor bastards. Tav had a conversation with Jaheira, stupidly drank a klauthgrass tainted glass of wine, despite knowing that it had been drugged. It seemed to work though, as Astarion watched from a distance. The older half-elf had lowered her weapons below the table and seemed to be less on guard with the serum active. 

Tav still managed to choose his words rather carefully, systematically throwing in some words of Sylvanus to pull Jaheira in even more. The spawn had noticed this technique to be used on nearly everyone, at least everyone who let him. The dragonborn did it to him as well, trying to stir the conversation by answering in a way Astarion liked, but the spawn knew it wouldn’t be his utmost first response.

Perhaps the excuse they were given for the dragonborn’s slow replies was merely that.. an excuse to cover up his more calculated approach at conversation. 

Or Tav really could have issues with speaking in Common, surrounded by so many people who spoke it perfectly.

The conversation between the two druids was over as quickly as it began, Jaheira handed them a map and directed them to ‘pick a bed of their choosing’. So the group dispersed, wanting to find their favorite spots within the Inn, while Astarion wandered out to the barn. When arriving at the place, he noticed a small set of stairs leading to the upper floor of the building.

There he found a safe haven, setting down his bag and claiming the area as his. Sure the occasional blacksmith noises weren’t nice, but come ‘nighttime’ Dammon would also head inside the Inn to relax. And for the first time in a while, Astarion would be fully alone, without it being a punishment.

So he went to work, setting up his things on the bed, a raggedy blanket slipped under the dusty covers, before turning to his ruined jacket. A defeated sigh slipped from his lips, realizing the golden thread he had stored away, was nowhere near as long as he originally thought it was. The spawn debated just using a different color, but with the background being white, it would be too noticeable and too… damaging to his well-put together disguise.

He laid the jacket over his arm and moved outside yet again, now being met with a rather lively campfire, tieflings and companions chatting away about their adventures and mourning the lost, while the several Fists moved between the bar and the fire to hand out drinks. This wasn’t a time for celebration, their entire group had been wiped out and they decided drinking was their only option.

With a scoff, Astarion joined them anyway. Far enough from the fire so he wouldn’t be included in conversation, but close enough to still hear whatever was being said. Halsin and Jaheira joined them after their discussion and the party livened up a little after that. 

“Say, Jaheira?” The high harper turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised as she motioned him to go on. “You wouldn’t happen to have some gold thread, would you darling?”

The harper let out a dry laugh and nodded her head, slipping her hand into her well sewn pocket to pull out a small ball of thread. “I expect to get it back before sunrise tomorrow.”

The spawn scoffed but nodded anyway and that was that. His hands moved quickly, slipping the thread through the eye of the needle, scooting just a bit closer to the fire so he could see before opening the jacket to start his known routine.

By now this jacket should’ve disintegrated from the amount of abuse it’s taken, but with careful repairs and utmost precaution to not be hit with slashing weapons, Astarion was managing to keep it around for as long as he had been. As he poked the needle through the fabric for the first time, a rather heavy and scaly head laid down on his shoulder, the heat pierced directly through the thin shirt he wore.

Huff. 

The sheer velocity of the dragonborn’s exaggerated breath nearly blew his curls into all sorts of positions. The man didn’t relent though, keeping his head on Astarion’s shoulder as his mismatched eyes followed every movement the spawn’s hands were making.

“Well, hello to you too darling.” Not once did his hands stop their movements, eyes managing to catch sight of the dragonborn’s chin spikes and frills when he turned ever so slightly. Tav had always taken a liking to him, from the moment they took him along, the dragonborn held nothing but sheer admiration in his looks. “What troubles you on this fine day?”

The dragonborn huffed again, this time less hard before he moved to sit behind Astarion. Paying no mind to the rustling behind him, the spawn weaved the thread through the fabric, watching the embroidered pattern return the longer he kept going. This wasn’t the first time he had to repair that specific part and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but every time he did, he could see his skills improving.

“The curse.” A dragonborn of a few words for sure, Tav laid his head back on the vampire’s shoulder, carefully wrapping his arms around his waist and spreading his legs to shuffle in fully. The vampire stiffened a bit once the other heat engulfed his back, fingers momentarily stopping to glance back at a troubled Tav.

The sad look in those bright eyes had Astarion nearly buckle at his knees, returning back to his project to hide the feeling within his stomach. The pale elf reached over to grab one of the dried pieces of meat, breaking off part of it and holding it over his shoulder.

Tav let out a small noise of appreciation, giving his waist a small squeeze before gently trapping the meat between his teeth, frills twitching before he laid his jaw back down. 

“Tell me about it.” Tav shifted behind him, leaning up just enough to watch the spawn’s hands work. Then, silence followed and Astarion didn’t mind it for once. The poor man had talked a lot that day, trying to convince people they aren't a threat even with the tadpole in their heads. Frankly Astarion was always bewildered how such an intimidating man could pacify others so easily, dare he say he almost admired the dragonborn for his quick wit and awkward charms.

“Everything is dead or dying,” Tav began, large hands tightening their hold on the vampire, as if the curse would snatch him away any second. Astarion had endured the bulk of Tav’s affectionate ways, the dragonborn was rather touch-starved and well Astarion didn’t mind the warmth it gave him. “I can hear them, feel them.” 

An encouraging hum slipped from the spawn’s lips, grabbing another piece of meat for the dragonborn to chew on. Tav’s habits were easy to see, a couple of telltales were often enough to show how much of an open book the man really was. The habit of grinding his jaws when worried or stressed was a dangerous one, Astarion had already seen it go wrong once, where the man’s teeth slipped from their pointed edges and sawed into the scaled lip to bring blood.

But the beef jerky seemed to work, the dragonborn chewed on it aggressively, at least keeping his lips and gums safe from those razor sharp teeth. “Halsin spoke of a boy, a spirit of this land that’s been lost within the Shadowfell. Getting him back should restore the curse, but he mentioned it was a difficult mission just the two of us wouldn’t be able to accomplish.”

Astarion sighed softly, finishing off one side with a small knot and bringing the thread up to Tav’s lips for his teeth to cut. The dragonborn didn’t need to be asked twice, leaning over his shoulder fully to snip the line. Then, before taking back his place on his shoulder, Tav’s head turned and the soft part of his nose pressed against the spawn’s cheek hard enough to smush it a little bit.

“You won’t have to do it alone with Halsin darling,” Astarion hummed, frogging the other side of his jacket's golden thread to redo it as well. He was busy with it anyway and Jaheira had given him the thread to use as much as he wanted. “You have an entire group of misfits who are eating out of your very palm, you just don’t notice it.” 

Tav stiffened on his shoulder again, head raising to glance around the campfire. By now most of their companions had gone outside too, chatting with each other like they had known each other for years. “Really?”

This time it was Astarion’s turn to laugh, abandoning the jacket for a split second to flick his fingers against Tav’s white scaled nose. 

“Yes, you.. you oaf.”  The irritated tone in his voice definitely caught Tav off guard, his body sliding backwards to give Astarion space while his hands hovered over the vampire’s waist. “Half of them want to bed you, the other half are so utterly enchanted by you that they will glare at us now from this position alone.” 

A small glance to the side revealed the truth rather quickly, Gale was sitting off to the side, book in hand but he hadn’t flipped the page in at least 20 minutes, brown eyes peering just over the edge of the book, staring directly at them. When Tav looked as well, the wizard averted his eyes quickly, a red blush painting over his cheeks.

“See?!” A deep breath allowed Astarion to get ahold of himself again. Having an outburst to their unofficial leader wasn’t what he intended on doing tonight, but for Gods sake, this dragonborn was a handful to deal with on his own. “Now if you please, I would like to continue fixing my ruined jacket.”

Silence followed after that and Astarion went back to frogging the embroidered thread, throwing the dirty line away and moving to fix it with Jaheira’s lovely gift. The warmth behind him didn’t return, Tav seemingly shifting further away to completely disappear from the conversation and the campfire alike. 

“I never said you had to leave.” Barely above a whisper, Astarion wasn’t sure if the dragonborn had even heard it, but the soft shuffling behind him confirmed he had. Tav didn’t scoot closer than he had been, but he did peek over Astarion’s shoulder every now and then.

So the spawn continued, feeding and sewing for the evening while the rest of their group slowly began to trickle into their respective beds for the night. The campfire crackled in front of them, Alfira’s music filled the now dead air and once the last of their companions left, Astarion felt his shoulders relax.

Alone at last.

“So,” Or not. The spawn sighed but listened anyway as the dragonborn scooted to sit beside him, looking up at the dome above them with a nervous flick of his tail. “Which one do you belong to?” 

“Hm?” A flick of his eyes around the campfire confirmed the dragonborn was indeed talking to him, ruby eyes meeting green-yellow ones out of curiosity. “What?”

Tav laughed softly, hand moving to rub along the back of his frills as they shuttered in anticipation. It took perhaps a minute for Tav to respond, Astarion watching those eyes darting to formulate his words in the best way he knew how.

“You said half of them wanted to bed me and half of them are enchanted by me?” Astarion nodded slowly, connecting the dots way faster than he would’ve liked. He could still plead ignorance, but by his own words he couldn’t avoid the meaning of them. “What half do you belong to?”

Tav’s voice had softened to a tone so unlike the druid that Astarion wondered if they took the wrong dragonborn with them. A tone so feathery that the spawn would’ve mistaken it for a rustle of the wind, had there been any. There was no tension within his words and absolutely no urgency. He simply watched the spawn with curiosity and waited for an answer.

Astarion didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t give the answer he wanted to give, because it simply wasn’t true and at this point Tav would notice he was lying. Both options were valid, even if Astarion didn’t want to admit to the second one. Considering his options, bedding the dragonborn was the best answer. After all he was obviously in his seduction attempts and he surely didn’t want to put a name to the fluttery feeling he got whenever he was around Tav.

“What do you think darling?” A musical amused tone laced his words and caught the dragonborn off guard, his eyes widening at the question being returned to him. His eyes slipped down to the ground after, nervously fiddling with his hands before glancing up to see if Astarion was kidding.

He was not.

“Well?” 

Tav sighed, eyes closing for a moment as his maw opened to speak, those razor sharp teeth on full display as he started with a nervous stutter. “I-I would hope it would at least be one of them,” As he spoke, Astarion caught sight of his forked tongue slipping through his teeth, flicking the air and scenting if he could taste any kind of emotion from the vampire. “I’d say the bedding aspect probably, if it had to be one of them.”

Astarion’s chest tightened uncomfortably, his lungs shriveled and his heart quenched at the sound of Tav’s wavering voice. He hadn’t ever thought the dragonborn held such a high opinion of him. Tav’s eyes met his and the forked tongue slithered out to scent again, but the dragonborn didn’t take his eyes away. This time, Astarion smirked, noticing that Tav was most definitely taken aback by some of his teasing.

Perhaps he could make use of this as well. 

“Well, my love.” A purr unintentionally slipped through his words, Astarion grabbed another piece of jerky and turned around to the dragonborn with a smile. Tav flitted his eyes between the meat and Astarion for a second, eyebrows furrowing in silent question of what the spawn was planning. “Perhaps you deserve another treat for being so open with me.”

The spawn slowly moved the jerky up to his own lips, holding it between his fangs with a teasing look in those ruby eyes. Tav shuttered, the frills on the side of his head twitched and those mismatched eyes had trouble staying locked with Astarion’s.

“W-wha..?” Astarion leaned closer, Tav leaned back, eyes widening even more. “A-are, you sure?” His pale fingers slithered over the others chest scales, up to his neck and eventually they snaked their way to the man’s horns. He wrapped his fingers along the base of the keratin, dragging the man down to his level. Then, he nodded and Tav exploded.

The dragonborn growled, but leaned in, pressing their lips together and very gently prying the jerky from Astarion’s teeth, accidentally nicking his forked tongue against the larger fangs. Blood pooled onto Tav’s tongue and in return, he flicked it against the spawn’s. 

Instinctively the spawn pulled back, eyes blown wide with euphoria and lust mixing with the warmth in his mouth. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but the heat and tingling on his tongue definitely made up for it. Large scaled hands found his waist and a second later he was hoisted into the dragonborn’s lap, arms tightening their hold as Tav laid his head against his chest.

“Apologies,” The dragonborn purred. “I did not mean to do that.” It took a couple seconds for Astarion’s mind to reboot itself, eyes slipping down to meet the lizard on his chest. Then he raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile, one mimicked seconds later by Tav.

“Oh you oaf,” A flick of his finger against the dragonborns nose earned him a low rumble. “You definitely meant to do that.” Tav’s smile widened, another rumble followed and he closed his mismatched eyes. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Tav hummed, yellow eye slipping open to gauge the spawn’s response before letting his hands settle on the man’s backside. “More now than I was before, especially with one of nature’s fine beings on my lap.” Astarion snorted, let his hands slide across the male’s scaled head and brushed his fingernails behind the frills, having them fluttering in response. 

“Good, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

“Oh I fully intend to.”

And that he did, for the rest of the evening, Tav had his head on Astarion’s chest while the spawn managed to finish his forgotten sewing project.

#tav x astarion #bg3 oc #astarion one shot #astarion #astarion my beloved #tavstarion #dragonborn tav #druid tav #no triggers #small spoilers for act 2 #no beta we die like Ethel #sad tav gets snack time

[mythandlaur]

Code: July Day 7 - Sports

Martial arts counts as a sport, right? (Disclaimer, I don't know anything about martial arts. In fact, I'm absolutely on Jeremie's side, here.)

...

"Hey, guys. So...what did you need me here for?"

Ulrich and Yumi are standing in the very center of the unoccupied gym, with a foam mat by their feet. When Jeremie speaks, they both look over at him in such perfect sync that Jeremie finds himself checking their eyes out of paranoia before the logical part of his brain kicks in.

Though, with the way they both simultaneously smirk at each other like cats that have cornered a very unlucky mouse, Jeremie can't help but wonder if whatever they have in mind might be worse.

"Hey, Einstein." Ulrich sidles over with his fists on his hips (probably because he's wearing his tank top and has no available pockets to shove them in). He looks Jeremie up and down, nodding to himself. "Not exactly gym clothes, but it shouldn't matter too much."

Oh no. Jeremie bristles. "I didn't know I was supposed to change--what's this about?"

"Relax, Jeremie, it's nothing scary." Somehow, the reassuring smile Yumi gives him does not make him feel any less growing dread, especially coupled with the glint in her eyes. "Me and Ulrich were just practicing the other day, and when we took a break, we got to talking."

"She said hey, you know Jeremie's been getting clobbered in the laboratory a bunch lately--"

"Okay, I didn't say it like that."

"--and then I said yeah, I wonder if there's anything we can do to help aaaaaand..." Ulrich gives Jeremie a feral grin. "We realized we've both been practicing silat so long that we could probably give you a few pointers."

Yep. It's worse than XANA thrashing him around the gym like a dog's old chew toy. At least he can't disappoint XANA.

Jeremie takes a step back, holding up his hands. "Why didn't you tell me this before I came?"

"Because you wouldn't have shown up," Ulrich deadpans, correctly.

"Now you at least have to hear us out," Yumi adds.

They both look incredibly pleased with themselves over this little entrapment, and in his heart, Jeremie knows he's already lost--the other Lyoko Warriors are the only people he's met so far that are as stubborn as he is. Which is a good thing, because if they weren't, they definitely would've given up on all this by now.

Still. "I don't see how this'll help. You can't stop a spectre by punching it."

"But you can slow it down," Ulrich counters, "I've seen it."

"Plus it's a great boost to your confidence."

"I'm plenty confident!"

"Sure, but when an attack targets you you fold like a wet rag." Jeremie leans back, surprised by Yumi's suddenly sharp tone. She seems to realize how that sentence had come out and winces. "No, I didn't mean it like that--I just..." She shakes her head, letting her sentence trail into nothing.

Ulrich glances at her out of the corner of one eye, clearly concerned. "Uh--maybe it'd help get Jim off your back about not being good at athletics?" he tries to offer.

"I can't. I'm just not cut out for that stuff, I'm not like you guys."

"You don't have to be," Yumi blurts out. "We just want to teach you a couple basics that might help you out. At least try it. Please, Jeremie."

Yumi's eyes are pleading, and Ulrich's brows are still knit in worry, though Jeremie can't tell who exactly the worry is directed at anymore. He really just wishes he could clip through the floor and disappear, but that's not an option.

After a stalemate that feels much longer than it actually is, Jeremie sighs. "Fine. I'll try it. But I'm telling you it's not gonna work."

The two brighten, and assure Jeremie that he won't regret it.

Jeremie regrets it almost immediately.

Even their pre-workout warmup practically wipes Jeremie out. It's true that what they're trying to teach him is pretty basic--just some stances and movement drills--but the two of them just seem to feed on each other's energy until he can't possibly hope to catch up. Yumi's abrupt transformation from caring but aloof friend to perfectionistic taskmaster nitpicking his posture is downright terrifying, and on the other side, Ulrich just keeps getting more amped up and intense, to the point where Jeremie worries Ulrich's actually going to ask him to spar. Their teamwork regarding his training is admittedly impressive--something Jeremie wishes they'd use half of on certain missions instead of turning them into an Olympic-level social gymnastics routine.

Jeremie genuinely does give it his best attempt, but his hands and legs won't coordinate the way he wants them to, he keeps losing his balance and flopping onto the foam mat like a dying fish, and he's fairly certain his hamstrings are about to start a riot in protest. Frustration quickly settles in despite Yumi and Ulrich's encouragement--they keep telling him things he needs to do better or practice more and he's clearly not good at it why should he bother--

He's not sure how long they go for, though it certainly feels like an eternity. However long it lasts, Jeremie eventually wobbles trying to match Ulrich's wide stance, falls over on the mat again, and simply refuses to get up.

"C'mon, Jeremie!" Ulrich's practically bouncing on his heels. "One more set!"

Thankfully Yumi, though her criticisms had been many, comes to Jeremie's rescue. "Actually, I think that's probably enough for right now."

Jeremie makes a strangled noise that he hopes adequately conveys his relief, rolling over onto his back and throwing his arms out to his sides as if trying to make a snow angel out of the sticky blue plastic. Ulrich looks vaguely disappointed, but nods, stretching his arms over his head. Yumi sits down next to Jeremie, also stretching out to touch her toes. It's probably some fell post-workout ritual, but Jeremie's not particularly interested in moving any more. He's already going to need to wash his sweat-stained shirt.

They sit in silence for a few seconds while Jeremie tries to catch his break, angling his face towards the gym lights to trace the smears all over his glasses. His hair's definitely unsalvageable, sticking to his forehead in messy clumps, and he can feel his own heartbeat in his arms.

He hears the door to the gymnasium open and tilts his head back, worried about a classmate (or worse, Jim) seeing him like this. The blurry shape he catches out of the corner of his eye is a familiar shade of pink.

"Aelita!" Jeremie quickly turns onto his stomach and tries to push himself up--his arms promptly give out and he crumples back onto the mat, groaning. "Bury me with my hard drives."

Aelita clamps both hands over her mouth, though it does nothing to stifle her loud snort. "I was wondering why you weren't answering your phone--no reason, don't worry." She looks up at Ulrich with a raised eyebrow. "What did you two do to him?"

"We were just trying to teach him some self-defense basics."

"Oh boy. I know you guys are coming from a good place, but I feel like you two doing that is like one of us teaching you computer science basics."

So is this what they feel like when he starts talking about math? Jeremie would really like to argue that it can't possibly be the same because at least his rambling isn't physically grueling, but he honestly doesn't have the energy.

"She's right," he says instead, looking over at Yumi. "I appreciate you trying to help, but I'll never be able to."

"We wouldn't have asked you if we didn't think you could do it," Yumi says, somewhat pained.

"Yeah, you've definitely got the stamina for it. Didn't you swim like half the waterways under the factory once?"

"What? When did I do that?"

Ulrich scratches his head. "Um, I swear I remember Odd saying that..."

"No, I remember it too," Aelita hums, putting a finger to her chin. "Because Odd had to bring him all the way back to the factory to run the Return to the Past and neither of them looked very good. It was one of the really early attacks, something about a gas that got into the factory..."

Ulrich snaps his fingers. "The laughing gas attack, that was it."

Yumi grimaces, rolling her eyes. "Ugh. Talk about simpler times."

"Okay, first of all, that was two years ago. Second, it was adrenaline because my life depended on it--which, might I add, would also cover any other athletic feats you might be thinking about as examples. Third, that was swimming, it's totally different!" That was probably the only somewhat-physical thing Jeremie wasn't terrible at. "It still got me, anyway."

"Still..." Yumi trails off again, chewing on her lip as if she wants to say something else. "...This might've been a little...intense. Sorry, Jeremie. How about you get something sweet from the vending machine on the way back, my treat."

The prospect of candy in the near future is just energizing enough to get Jeremie to push himself into a proper sitting position. Aelita laughs quietly behind a hand, though he can't tell if it's at him or not.

"...m'sorry, too," Jeremie mumbles. "Guess I should stick to the computer, huh..."

"Hey, it was your first time. You can't be good at everything right off the bat."

Jeremie bites his tongue.

He drags himself back onto his feet with help from Aelita and Yumi, straightening his glasses and sweaty clothes. "At least you tried it?" Aelita offers.

"True," Jeremie replies with a shrug, rubbing his aching elbow. "But I think I'm gonna keep letting you guys do the fighting, if that's okay with you."

#code lyoko #codejuly23 #yumi's soooooo worried about him and both her and ulrich show it by really aggressively trying something that helps them

[siderealscribblings]

Devil Summoner Akechi Goro vs the Phantom Thieves

Canto III: Devils in the Details

S.E.E.S. Kyoto - Training Hall Kyoto, Japan 5:05 a.m. 

The sound of steel thwacking against wood could be heard from across the base and Sanada Akihiko knew there was no other place his commander could be at such an ungodly hour.

The traditional design of S.E.E.S.' master headquarters had changed little in the two hundred years since the Order of Yatagarasu was founded. Tokugawa Ietsugu had surpassed his legendary ancestor by uniting hundreds of secretive demon hunting clans under the banner of the Shogunate. While S.E.E.S. had long since outgrown the humble devil hunter roots and rebranded itself as a modern paramilitary organization, its history was on full display in the old capitol building.

“Akihiko-senpai?” Akihiko’s head turned as a young brown-haired man jogged up behind him, still dressed in a sweatshirt and warmup joggers from his morning run. A pale shiba inu nipped at his heels, jogging ahead and nuzzling Akihiko’s hand as he reached out to pet him. 

“Have we heard from Tokyo yet?” Amada Ken panted, tugging his earbuds out and stowing them in his pocket. 

“Just heard from Shirogane; looks like things went as smoothly as could be expected,” Akihiko said, scratching Koromaru behind the ears. 

“Niijima-san is alive then?” Ken asked. “What about-” 

“Yoshizawa is fine,” Akihiko said with a crooked smile. “Akechi too but I guess you don’t care that much about him .” 

“C’mon, don’t make me sound heartless,” Ken sighed, looking around and dropping his voice to a whisper as he leaned closer to Akihiko. “ Is it true that we had Fiends break through the barrier last night?” 

“Still trying to sort that out; I wouldn’t put too much stock in the reports coming out of Tokyo until we can get down there and figure out what the hell Narukami's people are doing,” Akihiko sighed, leading Ken towards the training hall at the far side of the base. 

Cold morning dew hung on the trees lining the open courtyard, breath coming in clouds from Kirijo Mitsuru’s mouth as her Polish saber thwacked against wooden training dummies, cutting deep grooves in the battered oak. Her hair was bound in a tight bun, scarred arms left bare as her sword glinted in the morning sunlight. If the chill bothered her, she made no complaint; Mitsuru darkly joked that she got all her crying out when she was ten. 

Given all that she had endured when she was ten (and all that she had endured since ), Akihiko wouldn’t begrudge her the odd tear every now and then. 

The only other figure in the courtyard sat perched on a wooden railing along the side, a cup of coffee in one hand and beanie shoved over an unruly mop of brown hair. His eyebrows raised in greeting as Akihiko and Ken slid on each side of him, tearing a chunk off a bun croissant and tossing it to the dog at Ken’s feet. 

“What a fucking mess…” Aragaki Shinjiro grumbled, sipping his caramel latte with a wince. “Way too early to deal with these unholy monsters.” 

“The Phantom Thieves or the Board of Directors?” Akihiko chuckled. 

“It’s never too early to take a bite out of a demon but it’s cruel to make us deal with Chairman Shithead before the sun’s even warm,” Shinjiro sighed, breath clouding in front of his face. 

“He called?” Akihiko asked. 

“Called, texted, emailed; the geezer even sent us a fucking fax when we weren’t prompt enough with our replies,” Shinjiro grumbled. “Of course, Mitsuru ain’t tripping over herself to indulge his curiosity which has only got his non-existent hair in a knot.” 

“The Board can wait until I’ve finished my workout,” Mitsuru called from across the courtyard, saber biting into the dummy’s wooden neck. “The way things are going, I don’t think the Chairman will begrudge me brushing up on my swordwork.” 

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#my writing #devil summoner akechi goro vs the phantom thieves #polythieves #akeshu fic #featuring comfy shutaba #makoto getting cooed over #And crumbling heterosexuality

[aquaticsoul]

@shiroi---kumo is on the loose:

♬ + puff: little guy edition

Singing a Tune || ACCEPTING

There's not a day that passes without a song. There hasn't ever been, save the occasional times he's been sick or needed rest.

Even then, there's always been music in his heart and on his mind, so it's only natural to find him doing anything except being silent. This morning is no exception.

He's been humming nearly since he woke, leaving Aamunkoitto and Valo to stay asleep.

The first morning in the palace had not gone very well due to him not having been able to sleep his first night. He'd been exhausted to the point of near heavy-headedness, but thankfully the prince and the prince's guard hadn't taken notice.

He's never slept a night on his own, so Valo and Aamunkoitto being kind enough to share their space has definitely boosted his mood by quite a bit. Good sleep does wonders in making him feel ready to take on the next day's tasks.

It's hard to find the kitchens and some water, but he does manage it. Maybe, if he does end up keeping his job, he'll learn the layout of the palace sooner rather than later. It's bigger than any other building he's set foot in, and while he has the typical Misterican inner compass, that compass doesn't tell him exactly every room's location in a place like this.

His gallon of water is gone fast and clears the fog out of his body by the time breakfast comes around, allowing him to get through it without much embarrassment. Never in his life has he been so eager to wake up early, but impressions are everything at this point... and he's more than a little excited at getting to spend another day with Pilvi as well.

The kid apparently has a few things to do after breakfast, which Revon informs him won't take too long. It leaves Sielu some time to make his way back to his classroom, his hummed tune returning as he goes.

Day three. About three more after this and he'll have an answer as to whether he gets to stay here as a permanent fixture.

It's been two whole days now and he still can't believe even getting a chance. His parents can try all they like to not mention finances, but he's grown enough now to know it's always been rough.

That's why he needs the job. Why he wants the job is another story with a million factors.

The acoustics of this classroom are one of them. Pilvi is the rest of them. He was hired because of his cello skills and he'll be the first to note how lovely the sound of it carries, but... he wants to sing.

Not hum. Not play around. No. He wants to seriously, actually sing today.

Now seems like the perfect time. His warmup goes by fast. Lip trills, arpeggios, octaves, slides, sirens, yawn-sighs, tongue trills, scales, done.

All of them sound almost like an entirely different singer in this room. The crystal carries every sound in such a way that it wraps around him and leaves the faintest echo behind. He almost cannot wait to get to an actual song.

The sound of his warmup ends. The piano stops. He sips his water, rising to his feet with energy he normally wouldn't have until several hours from now.

He decides to go with something slower to take advantage of the sustain and carriage, letting the song's notes flow past his lips and into each other in a blend he simply doesn't have words to describe past 'ethereal'.

Each phrase almost blends back into him. He finds himself totally unconscious to the world, getting blissfully lost in the music he sings. His eyes slip closed at some point, his hands moving to match the rises and falls in subtle motions that guide his voice along.

His eyes open again as his song draws to a close, met with the child he'd been passing the time waiting for. A smile almost immediately stretches across his own face as he holds his arms out for the floating boy.

"Päivä tervehtii! How are you today?"

#sing a round of love ; answered. #meme ; singing a tune #[[ i love. LOVE puff: little guy edition ]] #[[ baby puff is such a good reason to get up every morning. sielu is so right for it ]] #r ; maamuna [ pilvi ] #arc ; sing dear bird (misterica)

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

I have no idea what I've written here, it just sort of...happened.

Osamu angst drabble with a sprinkle of Christmas, I suppose? I'm calling it a warmup for some other fics I'm working on.

The weight of the day is crushing, yet another full shift at the restaurant, with little to show for it. He knew the business was competitive, knew he'd be in for it, but still, he and his girlfriend put everything they had into the place.

A year later, Onigiri Miya barely makes ends-meet, and (Y/N)'s salary is hardly enough to live off of.

They've been scraping by, and it's starting to grate on Osamu's nerves.

This was his dream, a dream he's dragged (Y/N) into, his heart aches with the memory of those shining eyes, whispering affirmation as she believes in him wholeheartedly.

Winter's chill has nothing on her warmth, but out here, on the pavement outside the restaurant, deserted and dark, he feels the cold more than ever.

He couldn't afford Christmas lights, hasn't been able to even think about the holidays as they crept nearer and nearer.

(Y/N) loves Christmas, she speaks so highly of the holiday in her childhood, surrounded by people she loves, people he took her away from.

Now, all she has is him, and this restaurant slowly sinking under. He took her from that, from a full house and people who loved her, he dragged her on after his dream, and now look where he's gotten her.

The guilt is unimaginable, and sinks into the pit of his stomach like a ball of lead; His dreams suddenly seem fickle in comparison to its weight.

With a heavy sigh, he twists the key in the door, and walks away, for once, unsure if he ever wants to see the place again as the bills stack up in his bag.

He arrives at their tiny apartment in a quieter part of the city to unexpected warm lighting, gentle flickering of unmistakeable Christmas lights in the living room.

A sweet little Christmas tree sits in the corner between the couch and the TV, decorated in mismatched baubles and tinsel.

It's such a small thing, coupled with the smell of chocolate from the small kitchen as (Y/N) pokes her head through the doorway to smile at him.

'Hey handsome! Sorry, someone was throwing it away and I just couldn't resist. My brother sent me the decorations so-'

She didn't get another word out, he scooped her up in his arms, desperate for some warmth after the long walk home with nothing but his own dark thoughts.

(Y/N) hummed and wrapped her arms around him, already well aware that his day hadn't been any better than the last 356. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then lips, gently melting the cold from outside.

Osamu sank into her, eagerly stealing the warmth from her skin, a brief respite from the reality sitting behind the counter in Onigiri Miya.

Three more days, and the power would be cut.

Three more days, and Onigiri Miya would officially be too far in to save.

The following day is surprisingly busy. It's as near as he's come to having trouble running the place on his own. Orders are coming in back to back, keeping his hands steadily busy.

A glance out in the dining room is a welcome sight, even if it's not exactly packed. Just a few businessmen on their lunch break.

That's when (Y/N) stumbled in, damn near stumbling over her own feet on her way through the door. 'OSAMU!?'

The chef startled in place, craning his neck to look at her. 'Jeez (Y/N), what's wrong?'

Panting, she scuttled around the back, thrusting her phone in front of his face. 'It's all over the internet! YOU'RE all over the internet!'

On her phone is one of the most credited food blogs in the country, it's one he himself has referenced several times, with a section written on one upstart Onigiri restaurant.

'They gave you five stars! There are offers in the email for more critics to come review the food!'

Osamu stared at the screen, eyes flickering to his girlfriend, brimming with excitement.

By the next day, he's had three phone calls from bloggers, critics, half the internet is looking for this mystery Onigiri restaurant, and word got out.

Almost overnight, Osamu went from having way too much time on his hands to needing to hire on staff in a rush. (Y/N) even gave up her own time and started helping at the restaurant through meal rushes.

Those bills got payed, things stopped piling up, and after a week Osamu got his first day off in years.

He slept like the dead, cheek pressed into (Y/N)'s bare back, placing kisses over the love bites he'd left there.

(Y/N) doesn't dare wake him, enjoying the rise and fall of his chest against her back, relishing the lack of need to move for once.

Her body aches, whether from work or Osamu, she doesn't know.

Her eyes slowly adjust to the rising sun slipping past the thin curtains and she thinks maybe now, they'll be able to buy some real curtains. She glances at the closet, and smiles to herself, recalling the little package she's tucked away beneath layers of summer clothing, waiting for midnight on the 25th.

Osamu stirred, wriggling up to hide his face in her neck, his arm tight around her, keeping her impossibly close. (Y/N) purred, eyes rolling shut once more.

Soon, soon he won't ever need to be sorry for loving her, soon she'll have a way to tell him that she wouldn't trade him for the world.

Until then, that little velvet box will stay tucked away.

#haikyuu imagines #osamu miya x fem reader #implied smut #angst #christmas drabble sort of #haikyuu #haikyuu hcs