#counter measures pfft

[wigglebox]

Destiel Month - Day 9;

Sunshine ☀️

[brandogenius]

Christmas?? Last Christmas I made cookies that looked like the boys! maybe reader and phoebe make cookies of each other and the boys, and they take a a photo and post it like a family photo! Maybe readers cookie is like an angel lol -💛

omg!! i love that so much that sounds like so much fun! i’m actually making gingerbread men tomorrow so i wanna make the boys 😭 if i succeed i’ll show y’all!

this is so cute i wanna cry 😭 i love it!!

(edit: i had two requests actually of baking with phoebe so i mashed them the two fics i wrote together 😭)

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT - phoebe x reader - christmas cookies

Word count: 761

“i think this one is perfect as her” phoebe held up a gingerbread. it was the smallest out of the batch you both made.

“for julien?” you looked up at phoebe. she grinned over at you. eyes twinkling with the bright light above. it was the middle of December at 5pm on a friday evening. the sun has already set. snow was falling outside. the small snowman both of you made was staring directly at you from beside the wall. lopsided smile made from stones. carrot slowly falling off its face as snow accumulated around it. you glanced back at phoebe who was piping black icing into a bag.

“it’d be funny! i think she’d like it”

“i think she’ll threaten to hit you with it” you teased, working on lucy’s hair. “how many did you do so far?”

“four” phoebe gestures to the decorated gingerbread men on the rack by the oven. “i wanna make one of you” she pulled her sleeves up, wiping away some leftover flour from her face. you shook your head, grabbing the small towel and wiping away the icing from phoebes nose. “thank you for helping me with these today, baby”

“i’m glad you trust me enough to measure ingredients” phoebe chuckled. “these turned out perfect. i thought it was going to flop.” she held up the finished julien cookie, excitedly showing you.

“not when i’m here. i’m the baking expert here. you want some more hot chocolate?” you moved past phoebe, taking out some of the instant hot chocolate making kit, your mom gifted you and phoebe early for christmas

phoebe nodded her head. humming softly to the christmas music playing from your phone. the kitchen was a mess. baking utensils littered the counter top. trays of gingerbread men, decorated to represent phoebe julien and lucy sat neatly on a baking tray. the smell of cinnamon, ginger and chocolate wafted through the air.

wrapping paper was spread out all over the kitchen table. gifts stacked one on top of the other with cards splattered around. it was a mess but the familiar nostalgia filled your chest. a warm christmas that’s what it was.

it reminds you of when you were a child. playing with your dolls in the living room by the christmas tree while your parents wrapped the gifts and your grandparents baked cookies. it was a sweet feeling. you were in that spot now. wrapping gifts for friends and family members.

phoebe made sure to make it very clear what wrapping paper belonged to what gift. “that doll set for your baby cousin? it goes with the pink wrapping paper- sit it on top so we don’t forget. your parents get this nice champagne gold coloured wrapping paper- lucy might like that rich blue one. we’re giving julien the kids one because she’s a child-“ “you’re stressing out too much about this, my love”

“honey?” you shook out of your thoughts, smiling over at phoebe who held up one of the cookies. “i made you!”

“did you?” you walked back over to phoebe, leaning your head on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her waist. she was warm. she relaxed in your hold, giggling to herself. “i look different than the rest”

“i kinda fucked it up a bit”

“i can tell”

phoebe pouted as you chuckled, kissing her cheek. “it reminds me of an angle though. if you squint you can see the wings” phoebe squinted her eyes before a small grin appears on her face.

“it does- pfft” she smiled, turning around so her back was pressed against the counter. “- that’s what i was going for. that was the plan.” “really?” you teased, your hands finding their place on her hips. she leaned in to place a small kiss to your lips. “of course”

“why don’t we start cleaning up? we need to get started on wrapping the gifts” you broke away, grabbing the towel and turned on the sink, washing your hands under the tap.

“i’ll start wrapping. you can write the cards” phoebe wiped her hands with the towel, walking over to the table.

“on it. what are we doing this year? from reader and phoebe? from the two gays?” you questioned, making your way to the table, looking at the card before writing a small merry christmas message.

“from the wives.” phoebe looked up grinning. you looked at the small ring on your hand as you chuckled.

“yeah that sounds good. merry christmas and happy holidays. from the wives”

“it sounds very gay. i like it”

[junixbugg]

Little Toga Cg Ochaco!!

(Im going to cry i love them so so much)

🫧🔪: himiko's little age range is 2-5

🫧🔪: toga loves when Ochaco does little things for her (tying her shoes, holding her hand in stores, wiping her face and fingers after she eats , etc)

🫧🔪: Uraraka has cute aggression, and literally, Toga will just exist, and Ochaco is hugging her and giving kisses all over her little's face

🫧🔪: It's not unusual for toga to use uraraka's hand as a personal teether

🫧🔪: needs constant reassurance.

"You're so pretty, baby."

"Am I cute, Mama?"

"The cutest little girl in the world!"

(AN/: ^^BAHHH IM CRYINGG😭)

🫧🔪: Ochaco decorated all of Himiko's pacis (her collection is huge)

🫧🔪: Ochaco is crazy about safety/ health and is constantly floating himiko when she doesn't need to or triple (lets be honest quadruple) checking if her little one has brushed her teeth after sweets

🫧🔪: Himiko makes Ochaco take naps with her :3

🫧🔪: AUDHD toga (i dont make the rules)

🫧🔪:Toga is a semi verbal baby ♡♡

🫧🔪: THEY BAKE TOGETHER!

Onto the imagine/oneshot~

"What's on the menu, baby bat?" Ochaco smiled sweetly at her little one while she tied both their aprons. "PANCAKESSS! wiffff Bluebewwies!!!" Toga squealed, bouncing up and down in place. "Alright, alright! Excited today, are we? Blueberry pancakes it is!" She kissed the little's head and picked her up , balancing toga on her hip. The fridge was almost magical as it opened, but himiko zeroed in on the blueberries and made grabby hands. "Did you find the blueberries lovey? Here, grab em!" Ochaco tilted toga closer to the fridge so she could retrieve them from their cold prison (fridge). "Hyup! Got em mama!!" Himiko beamed at her caregiver and was met with soft giggles and a boop to her scrunched nose , and another forehead smooch for good measure. Ochaco casually shut the fridge with her foot, and they made their way over to the pantry to grab the pancake mix. Ochaco put toga down, causing the little to whine "pfft you're so cute when you're pouty - wanna help Mama?" Toga nodded excitedly."Can you get me the biiiiiig mixing bowl?" Toga immediately ran over to the cabinet coming back quickly."Here you goes, Mama!" Ochaco placed the mixing bowl on the counter and poured the dry mix into the bowl while toga was clung to her arm, biting her nails and watching her mama with big eyes. "C'mon himiko, let's wash your hands, and then you can pour the water in. How does that sound?" That caused the little to perk up as she was walked over to the sink. Ochaco gently lifted the little's hands to the soap dispenser and turned on the faucet. She rubbed togas hands, but toga was only focused on her mama. "All done!" The caregiver dried himiko's hands and then handed her the measuring cup "careful now, love bug. We need 3 of these, okay? Let me grab the bowl so you dont spill. " Ochaco sat next to the sink, giggling at how focused the baby bat was. "1..... 2.... 3!" Toga clapped for herself, bouncing up and down again."I did it, Mama! Didja see!!" Ochaco ruffled Himiko's hair,"I did! You did an awesome job, little one. Thank you so much for your help! Want to help with the blueberries too, or do you wanna watch something while Mama does it?" The little contemplated ",, help mamma peaseee" she flashed the caregiver her best puppy eyes.Ochacos's face flushed as she coo'd "WAHH!! Okay! Let's go mix and put the blueberries in!" Ochaco let Toga carefully fold the blueberries in, they sprayed a pan down , and spent the rest of their morning flipping pancakes and filling up their bellies.

YAAAAY they are so precious 😭 i kinda went crazy on the imagine, but uhm, i miss them <3 love them <3

[eeboshmeebo]

🤜 Malleable Mochi 🍡

Tried out writing a fierce but domestic reader character... don't know how well I did. No beta, like always.

It was nearing December already, despite it feeling like September had just passed. How time flies, huh?

You pondered over it as you nibbled on your snack, scrolling through HeroTube videos mindlessly until you saw a video with a thumbnail that featured a cute porcelain rabbit, a wooden pedestal with wax paper and ornamental decorations on it, and most importantly...

Mochi. In a small corner of the thumbnail, there was even a mochi cut in half to display the dark adzuki bean paste filling and the gentle yellow chestnut, which was supposed to look like a full moon at night.

Maybe it was too late for the harvest moon festival, but who cared. It looked tasty, easy, and, well, when Monoma came back, you could make it with him after measuring out all the ingredients.

That sounded good, and besides, there's been enough of fall spices and peppermint going around. Time for a change of taste!

================================================

Monoma sighed after closing the door behind him and putting his casual jacket on the clothes hangar, finally back home after a long day of hero work and paperwork. Both were tedious and enjoyable (more the hero work than the paperwork), but he did need something comforting...

"Sweetheart, I'm hooooooome~!" He yelled, hearing his voice echo in the house's walls before he heard your response.

"Honey-buns! Come to the kitchen, I got something I want'cha to help with!"

"Alright, I'll be there in a second!" he replied to you, smiling wistfully to himself as he palmed the small ichigo* daifuku he bought on the way back. A small treat for you, but judging by the smell in the house, it'd be in the fridge for a little while.

He took off his shoes and walked to the kitchen, to be greeted with...

You, who had portioned out the ingredients already and were in the process of cooking them, were mashing the adzuki beans you had just boiled (evident by the pot in the sink that was slightly steaming somewhat) with some sugar using the potato masher that, honestly, had gone forgotten for weeks until now. You didn't seem to notice him yet.

Seeing this, Monoma crept up behind you slowly and every so silently, internally anticipating your reaction as he inched closer and closer...

"I can hear your watches jingle on your belt, honey-buns."

"Tch..."

Oh well, he'd get you next time. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on the crook of your neck as he admired the view.

"So, what're you making? It smells better than I expected."

"Mochi! I saw a video online, and watch your mouth. I only burned that popcorn once because I hadn't made it for a while!"

He cried out in mock-pain as you bit onto his cheek gently, leaving pinkish shallow marks on his face that'd fade away in minutes.

"Ah, my darling, you disfigure me! How will I show myself on the streets now that my face has been rent asunder?" He put a hand on his forehead, leaning backwards and away from you with 'despair' on his face.

He slipped.

You scrambled to put the bowl on the counter to catch him right before he hit the ground, his heart racing from the surprise scare. Your heart was evidently racing, too, from how you were dry-laughing from stress and from the scare he had just gave you.

"..."

"..."

"...I'm sorry..?"

"You better be, dumbass..."

Then, you kissed him fiercely, allowing his stress to melt away along with his fear that just spiked for a few moments before you pulled away.

"You're so lucky you have a kissable face, or I'd have punched you already."

"...pfft- hahahahaha! Oh, don't worry, Kendo does all of the physical lecturing for you so you don't hurt your pretty hands on my head."

He then threw the most lovesick, puppy-eyed look he could muster. Monoma loved how your blush rose onto your skin despite the fact that you were still mildly angry, and how easy it was for you to give in.

Eventually, after five or so seconds, you sighed and placed the half-mashed bowl of bean paste into his hands.

"I'll deal with the mochi. Don't slip again, okay?"

Your tone was rough, but your eyes gave away the worry and the mild annoyance you felt as you stormed to the stove and took out the freshly-steamed mochi from the steamer in the pot, hissing from the heat as you hurriedly placed it on a large cutting board caked with rice flour.

Monoma grinned as he stood up, mashing the beans as he looked over.

He saw you punching and folding the mochi dough quickly, as if you did this multiple times before. Or maybe you punched and slapped a training dummy so many times it translated into mochi-making skills.

Either way, his eyes sparkled with every punch you delivered and every blow you landed, even if you stopped sometimes to cool your hands down, that he eventually finished mashing his own beans but was still doing so even if they were already done.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too, honey-buns! Now, help me make some mochi, eh?"

================================================

You sat on the couch, nibbling on some slightly lumpy mochi as your head laid in Monoma's lap while you watched TV with him. The show on was something about a pink-haired guy and a white-haired guy with a blindfold and they were supposed to be very important, but right now, your focus was locked on Monoma.

Who was dozing off right now, and there were a few more marks on his skin. You had bitten a bit too hard earlier after you both were done making mochi, but it was fine.

This was the life, nibbling on slightly warm mochi and savoring the sweetness of affection and sweet treats. And a good kiss on the cheek every few minutes.

[*Ichigo is Japanese for Strawberry]

[Apparently this rabbit's name is Daifuku, or something close to it. It's cute so I kept the GIF.]

[drarrily-we-row-along]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known (Part Three)

Draco was itching to see Potter, desperately curious to know what he might learn next about the other man.

And, if he was being honest, a bit desperate to see if Potter would let him touch him again. Nothing untoward, just... it had felt nice to let his fingers tangle in Potter's curls, to know that his hands were helping instead of hurting.

He found himself, for possibly the first time ever, leaving early to arrive at Potter's house for movie night. The normal hum of anxiety, making his skin a hint too tight, seemed to have been reduced to a mere pinprick in the trips of his fingers at the prospect of learning more about Potter.

When he showed up in the living room, Potter was nowhere to be seen. Casually, he greeted everyone who made eye contact on his way through, heading to the kitchen, hoping to find Potter there.

He pushed the door open, and there he was, standing on the other side of the island, working diligently at several different spreads of food. "Gin, can you grab the olives from the-" he said before looking up and seeing Draco standing there. "Draco," he said in surprise and something pleasant flared in his stomach at the sound of his name in Potter's mouth, "err. Malfoy," he corrected, trying to look anywhere but at him. "Sorry. I thought-"

"I can help," he said, moving toward the cupboard and pulling down the can of olives.

"You're a guest," he argued.

Draco shrugged, "I'm woefully single and," he added, lowering his voice and raising an eyebrow, "Ginerva and Pansy seemed rather busy when I walked through a moment ago."

Potter groaned, "not the mental image I needed right now." He shook his head, "Well, if you don't mind would you grab that punch bowl from the counter?"

"Still hung up on Ginerva?" he asked casually as he moved to get the red punch bowl for the other man.

"Pfft," Potter snorted as he set out the juice, ginger ale, and gin on the top of the island. "Don't be ridiculous. We're friends, when I say she's like a sister to me, I genuinely mean it."

He hummed, something easing in his chest at the admission, he wasn't going to look too hard at that.

"What about you and Pansy?" Potter asked, glancing up at him before going back to measuring liquid in the punch bowl.

"What about us?"

Potter lifted a shoulder, "Ever feel like you might want that again?"

"With Pansy?" he asked incredulously. "Disgusting."

Laughing, Potter replied, "you didn't used to seem to think so, all that lounging in her lap and having your hair stroked."

"Potter, I don't know what I have ever done to give you the impression that I am attracted to women. Aside from being a touch and affection starved teenager, apparently."

At that, Potter looked up at him, blinking a few times, "You're gay?"

"Yes?" he replied. "I thought literally everyone knew that." He glanced down where Potter was still pouring gin into the punch, "You're overflowing your bowl," he said.

"Huh?" Potter asked, still staring at him uncomprehendingly.

"Your punch bowl," he said, nodding at it, "You're overflowing."

Potter followed his gaze, "Shit," he gasped, ceasing pouring and casting a quick charm to clean up the spill.

Draco cleared his throat uncertainly, it had been a long time since he'd felt anything akin to embarrassment about his sexuality.

"Sorry," Potter said, glancing up at him. "I didn't mean to-"

"You apologize a lot," Draco commented.

Potter tilted his head, "I put my foot in my mouth a lot," he said.

He chuckled, "I suppose, but you also apologize for existing."

His jaw clicked shut, clenching. "I don't know what you mean."

Draco realized that he'd stumbled onto something seemingly sensitive without exactly meaning to. "I mean," he said carefully, "That you've apologized to me for being surprised about something, for having basic human needs like someone to help with all of the work of hosting a party every week, for not knowing who was walking in your kitchen, for telling me about your life as though it's some sort of burden-"

"You sound like my therapist," Potter said, shoulders tense. He avoided making eye contact and Draco felt his heart twist uncomfortably.

Potter had been honest with him, had handed Draco little bits of himself like a gift. Taking a deep breath, he decided to return the sentiment with a little vulnerability of his own. "Yes, well," he said, voice light, "I've spent enough time with mine to know what one sounds like."

The other man tilted his head at Draco, "I didn't know you saw a therapist."

"No one does," he said with a shrug. "But I needed to," he continued. "I was really fucked up after the war, still am if I'm being honest. He helps me straighten out my thoughts, you know? Get things into order a bit."

Potter nodded, "Yeah. I get that."

He gave the other man a tentative smile, "So," he said, intent on changing the subject, "What needs to go out there?"

"Oh, none of it," Potter said, waving a hand. "This is all stuff to refill later. Sometimes we get busy playing games or I don't want to miss the movie," he hurried to add like his needed an excuse. "Plus at the beginning of the night, I feel like I'm intruding," he added, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh come now, Potter," he teased, "Don't you simply love being the third wheel?"

The other man laughed, "Or fourth in the case of Ron, Hermione, and Blaise."

"And who doesn't love the lectures about putting yourself out there more?"

He nodded, "Or the pitying, 'you're next.'" he added with a shudder. "Merlin I hate that."

"So, instead of enduring their advice and pity, you were hiding in the kitchen-"

"I wasn't hiding!" he protested, but he was laughing, eyes bright.

Draco continued like he hadn't been interrupted, "-and doing what exactly?"

"Daydreaming," Potter replied, a little shyly, tipping his head down and glancing up at Draco from under his eyelashes.

"Anything interesting?"

Potter shook his head, "Never. They're all terribly mundane-"

"Tell me?" he asked softly, barely daring to hope the other man might because the truth was that both of the daydreams Potter had given him had made him feel more feelings than he could even name.

He tilted his head again, looking curiously at Draco. "There's this one I have in the kitchen a lot, actually," he said, voice soft, wrapping Draco up in the cozy, casual intimacy of a soft confession.

Draco sat down on the stool across from Potter and leaned his chin in his hand to listen.

Bemused, Potter continued, "It's just this daydream of him coming into the kitchen, seeing that I'm working on something that I'm not particularly enjoying, and putting his hands over mine. Sometimes it's dishes, or cooking, or cleaning up, or prep work," he said gesturing to the counter full of things to be brought out later. "But he gently empties my hands and holds them in his as he turns he around to look at him."

He said nothing when Potter paused, waiting with baited breath for him to complete the picture.

With a little shake of his head Potter continued, "I expect that he'll kiss me and I lean my body into his to receive one but he just pulls me into his arms and dances me around the kitchen. We sway and turn to music that only he can hear and I don't mind not being able to anticipate where he'll lead. It's nice just to be held and cared for," he finished with a little shrug.

"You've got a lovely mind," Draco murmured, because it was true and he really enjoyed hearing about the ways that he daydreamed.

"It's a trauma response," Potter replied, matter-of-factly.

"Sorry?"

He shrugged, eyes on Draco's left ear as he said, "I learned how to dissociate when I was pretty young. I was always trying to imagine a better world than the one I lived in as a child," he added. "So I just got good at imagining things that made me feel better."

"What were you trying to dissociate from?" he asked as the door to the kitchen opened.

Potter's attention snapped away from Draco and to whomever had just entered the kitchen, "Hi Blaise," he said with a smile. "What are you looking for?"

"You, actually," he replied as he sidled up next to Draco. "We were wondering about getting a game of Exploding Snap going?"

"Yeah," Potter said, grinning at him, "No problem. I'll be out in a sec to get the cards."

Blaise rapped his knuckles on the table, "You're the best," he said with a wink before he disappeared.

Potter turned to look at Draco, "Sorry-"

"Why?" he interrupted.

"Why what?"

"Why are you sorry?"

His brow furrowed as he looked at Draco, "I just trauma dumped on you."

"You didn't," he replied. "Why are you sorry?" he pushed.

"Because I spent five minutes talking about a daydream that wasn't even based in reality."

"I asked you to," he replied steadily. "Why are you sorry?"

"Why are you pushing me?" he asked, hands on his hips as he scowled at Draco.

He shrugged, "Because I want you to stop apologizing for being a person."

"I-"

"Harry!" Ron bellowed from the other room and Draco could have strangled him.

"For Merlin's sake," he hissed under his breath. "Yes, coming!" he called. "Fine," he snapped at Malfoy, "I'm not sorry. Is that better?"

"Much," he replied with a smirk.

"You're impossible," Potter replied but the corner of his mouth was turned up in a pleased smile.

He nodded, "I know, if you ask Pansy it's probably one of the reasons I'm single," he said with a wink.

Potter picked up one of the bowls of chips, "Really?" he asked. "I find it rather charming," he said before pushing his way out into the living room.

Draco had to stand in the kitchen and pick his jaw up off the floor before he found himself able to leave the kitchen and join everyone else.

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

(Part Two) | (Part Four)

[giggly-squiggily]

Bruuh when I saw that you read/re-read Chronicles of Vladimir Tod, I was like 'yaaaas'. I started re-reading it again (literally bought all 5 books), and I am literally dying for a ticklish!Vlad and tickler!Otis fic!

It has been 89 years...but finally, on this day...I have done it! I have written this fic! :D @nutzgunray-lvt I believe this was you? If not well- here you are anyway! :D I haven't read Vladmir Tod in so long, so this was a blast to write. I hope you like it!

“Vladimir.”

“What-hey!” The mentioned boy yelped when Otis’ hand came around him, snagging a cookie off his plate. “What the hell, that was mine!”

“Uncle Tax.” Otis grinned around a mouthful of chocolate goodness, shooting a wink as his nephew pouted. 

This was a running gag for them- the notorious “Uncle Tax.” Well- it wasn’t THAT notorious. All of Otis’ antics were fairly minor, ranging from stealing a sip of Vlad’s drink (“It’s O-negative!”O) or borrowing one of his many t-shirts (“Were the same size, Vladimir, and besides- how often do you see a vampire walking around with a ‘I went to Slayer School’ T-shirt?”). Really- Vlad didn’t mind them all that much.

But when it came to Aunt Nelly’s famous cookies though…

That’s where the line is drawn.

Watching his uncle with the grand stink eye of all the Tod bloodline, Vlad turned back to his plate and carried on his way, one cookie unburdened. He’d get his revenge in time. For now- let it seem he’s just being a bratty teenager over sweets.

It was as Uncle Otis taught him; diversion is the best sneak attack.

~~~3 weeks later~~~

“Oo, are those what I think they are?” Otis’ breathed in the warm smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, all but floating into the kitchen. Nelly had already gone to work, it seemed, a note on the counter letting the boys know she’s doing a double shift and how to heat up the dinner she left.

Also, on the back of the note- a clear instruction: “No cookies before dinner, Vladimir.”

“Good thing I’m not Vladimir, then.” Otis snickered in delight, carefully picking at the plastic wrap around the plate of sugary treats. He was pretty sure his mentioned nephew was over at Henry’s tonight, meaning he’d have the house- and these delectable treats- all to himself. For a brief moment, he considered leaving a few for Vladmir to find in the morning.

And then he thought about the sass the younger vampire had been giving him the past couple of days and decided against it. Can’t award bad behavior afterall. Giddy in mischief, he brought the cookie to his lips, taking a bite.

And immediately spit it out into the sink.

“Pfft- Oh god! Oh my word!” Otis grabbed the sink hose, rinsing his mouth out in a desperate attempt to rid the salty catacomb he bit into. What happened? Nelly’s baked treats were never this salty! It was as if she went mad and forgot sugar exists! How could-

“Well well, look what we have here.” Otis froze, eyes widening at the sound. Turning slowly, he found Vlad leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and brow raised. Something smug was in his eyes despite his expression being flat. “Uncle Otis- to spit out Aunt Nelly’s hard work like that- and into the sink. How shameful.”

“V-Vladmir! I thought- it’s not- why aren’t you-” The blonde sputtered, looking at the front door and back to the young man watching him.

“Henry’s out visiting his cousin this weekend.” Vlad jerked his chin towards the plate. “And I lied. Aunt Nelly didn’t make those cookies. I did.”

“What?” Otis reeled back in shock, betrayal cutting into him like a stake.

“Yep. I used her recipe, but I accidentally mixed up the sugar and salt.” There was nothing accidental in that tone. “Maybe I dropped an additional cup in there too for good measure- I’ve never been much of a baker.”

“You poisoned me!” Otis declared in horror, backing away into the stove. “Why, Vladimir?”

“It’s like you’ve taught us in class, Uncle Otis. If you unfairly tax the people of a country, they’re gonna fight back.” Vlad let his lips quirk up in a small victorious smirk. “Your Uncle Tax has reached a high point it shouldn’t have crossed.”

“Oh…so this is how I die…” Otis sank to the floor, a hand grasping his chest. “Betrayed by my own blood, at the mercy of my greed.” He closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward. “Eu tu, Brute?”

“Liberty, freedom. Tyranny is dead.” Vlad replied, fighting down a grin as he watched his uncle fake-twitch in death. “You weren’t even gonna share, either. I could hear your thoughts without even having to read your mind!”

“So it seems…I’ve been bested.” Otis peeked up at him through blonde locks, a smirk of his own starting to form on his lips. “But alas, I am no mere mortal Vladmir. For I…am a god!” He was across the room in seconds-

The space Vlad once held was empty. Looking up, Otis turned to the living room, finding the younger boy on the defense.

“What kind of death scene was that?” He cried, yelping when Otis sped towards him again, just evading an outstretched hand. “What are you, a zombie?”

“No, but I am a vampire! A vampire who feeds off the betrayal of his own!” Otis darted again and again, each time just missing Vlad but getting closer. “And you’ve proven to be quite the feast I’m looking for, Vladimir!”

“You’re so freaking- AH!” Vlad yelped when the back of his hoodie was snatched, stopping him from bolting around the couch a third time. There was a tussle, limbs flailing and the world spinning. Finally, Vlad found himself pinned to the couch, eyes wide as Otis loomed over with long, wiggling fingers. “U-Uncle Otis! You don’t need to dohohoho this!” He giggled out, trying to squirm away.

“What’s so funny? I never thought you’d be the type to laugh in the face of death, Vladimir.” Otis smirked, all teeth before he attacked, hands flying over his Nephew’s torso. Vlad arched before letting out an honest to god scream, the sound dissolving into relentless laughter as he flailed and kicked beneath his uncle’s cruel clutches.

“GEhahahahahahhahahha! Whahahhahit! Whahahhaait Uncle Ohoohohohotis I’m shahahhhahahrry!” He cried out, cheeks already flushing a pretty shade of pink as he laughed. “Coohohoohohme on, quuhuhuhuhuhuit ihihihiihihihiht!”

“What? You’re sorry? After all that planning? My you give up too easily, Vladimir!” Otis chuckled alongside him, his fingers finding that awful spot along his lower ribs just to hear those adorable bird chirps. “Then again, this could just be your way of sneaking away for your next line of attack!”

“Maahahahhahybe it is, mahahahhaybe it ihihihihihisn’t!” Vlad wheezed around a snort, his hands shooting down when Otis prodded at his belly. “Nahhahahaha doohohoohohon’t!”

“Ah, so a non-answer eh? I know how to handle these!” Otis shot his hands up and under Vlad’s hoodie, further driving his nephew into hysterics as his fingers danced across his belly. “Now, are you ready to give up, Vladimir?”

“GHEHAHHAHAHAHAHA! OHOOHOHOHOHOHTIS PLEHEHEHEHAHAHHASE!” Vlad squealed, his laugh going near silent from just how ticklish everything was.

“I’m waiting, Vladimir.”

“FIHIHIHIIHNE FIHIIHIHIHINE YOU WIHIHIHIIHN! I GIHIHIHIIHVE UP!” Vlad cried out, gasping for air when Otis retracted his hands, ending his tickling. The smaller vampire curled into himself, rolling onto his side and falling off the cushions. “Gahhaha…ahahaha…mehehehean!”

“So is tampering with goldy relics.” Otis reminded, making his nephew giggle. “Did you really do that because of the Uncle Tax thing?”

“Hehe…heh…y-yeah?” Vlad rolled onto his back, pushing his bangs back with a tired hand. “And I’d do it again too.”

“Pfft- a true rebel in the making.” Otis laughed, poking Vlad in the belly before standing up, offering a hand. “Really though, I am sorry if I pushed it too far, Vladimir.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for eh…poisoning you.” Vlad snorted sheepishly, smoothing out his clothes. “Though it was kinda funny watching you rinse your mouth out with the sink hose.”

“It’s quite- hey!” Otis mock glared as Vlad cackled, shaking his head. “Fine fine, all is forgiven. Now, come help me put in dinner. We’ll make a proper batch of cookies after all our hard work.”

“Sounds good! I’ll add the sugar!” Vlad grinned, doubling over in mirth when Otis gave him a stink eye. “I’m kidding!”

The second batch turned out much sweeter.

Thanks for reading!

[prongsfootandco]

Incendio

Day 22 of @prongsfoot-microfic

Unrequited crush for this one

On AO3

_

Grimmauld Place had always been a prison, even before Azkaban and then what was essentially house-arrest. Sirius had never thought of his house as a home, only ever a prison. Hogwarts was his first real taste of freedom, and after that James’ house then their flat. 

And then James had left him to get married, which Sirius was totally fine about and definitely didn’t drink himself into a stupor for nearly a year after the wedding. 

Even then, he’d had his flat. Grimmauld Place had been a faded memory until his entire world had shattered around him. 

James.

Dead. 

Impossible. 

Azkaban had been horrendous, but as he sat in front of that stupid fucking tapestry, he almost wanted to be back. 

Merlin, his life had been a mess. The only light point was James, and after thirteen years in the dark, his guiding light had returned. James and Lily both stumbled through the veil, older as if they’d been alive the entire time, and for the first time since that dreaded Halloween, Sirius could fucking breathe. 

He’d embraced his oldest friend in a frenzy, sobbing maniacally until James had been torn from his arms. Still, eventually James and Lily had moved into Grimmauld Place, a temporary measure until they could get Sirius’ conviction overturned. 

And here he was, with his best friend by his side, staring at his ancestors, his relatives… his lineage. 

“No second thoughts?” James asked as he clapped Sirius on the back. 

Ha! 

Did James really think that they’d spent weeks disarming the wards around the tapestry, just for him to back out now? 

Fuck, he’d been dreaming about this moment for as long as he could remember. 

“Pfft. Did death knock out your brain, Potter?”

James laughed, and oh god, had Sirius missed that sound? His laughter was a beacon of hope, and anyone that heard it (Slytherins and Death Eaters excluded) couldn’t help but smile at the very least. It wasn’t necessary a pretty laugh, James had a tendency to snort and guffaw loudly, but it was so full of unabandoned joy that it felt like the sun radiated from James himself. 

“I’ll have you know, I’m as brilliant as the day I died,” James countered, pressing his head against Sirius’ shoulder. 

“You mean the day you forgot your fucking wand?”

“Nah, just my ordinary wand… the fucking wand was-”

“I don’t want to know!”

Lies. Sirius absolutely wanted to know, but it was better for his sanity and unrequited crush if he never found out. Sharing a dorm had been torture enough. Sirius did not need any extra details to fuel his pervy dreams about shagging his best friend and his wife. 

“Spoilsport,” James teased and gripped tightly onto Sirius’ arm. “Come on, then. Let’s burn this motherfucker to the ground!”

Sirius flipped his wand to his other hand, as he laced his fingers with James’. Together they raised their wands. Years of pain and regret, and all it took was one word:

“Incendio!”

[pics-and-fanfics]

Oops?

Pairing: Friend!Loki x F!Reader

Warnings: Reader is about 15! Tony is a shitty dad, dirty talk, slight violence, people being… inappropriate (mainly men), dumb jokes and stupid nicknames, light cursing, mentions of attempted SA and attempted rape

Summary: You dad, Tony Stark, made you go to a gala with him and the other Avengers, where you get into a little trouble…

Find my other works here!

You took a sip of your apple cider, wishing you hadn’t been forced to come to this stupid party. You glare at the back of your dads head, wishing you could drill a hole into a skull. You didn’t want to be here, and last time you’d come to one, you’d gotten in so much trouble.

Spilling juice on a guest, knocking over a table full of food, and accidentally unplugging the sound system when you tripped over a cord.

Yeah, not fun being grounded for 2 weeks because of all that. “Enjoying yourself, my lady?” Loki asks, and you whirl around, the skirt of your dress flaring. You smile, shoving his shoulder before giving him a side hug.

“Why, good evening, dickhead!” you say, and Loki laughs. “Wow, you really clean up well. Look at you, all dapper and shit. Looks nice on you, Lokes.” You see Loki smile, and you cross your eyes at him, making him laugh again.

“You look very nice yourself, m’lady. I see you got a new dress.” You snort, leaning back on the counter, taking a sip out of your sparkling apple cider. “Against my will. I didn’t even wanna come. These are always so dumb, dad remembers what happened last time he dragged me to one.”

“What happened?” Natasha asks, suddenly at your other shoulder, making you screech, putting a hand to your chest. “Oh my god, don’t do that!” you say taking a deep breath.

“What happened last time?” Natasha asks again, and you groan.

“Accidentally unplugged the sound system after I tripped, flipped over a table trying to hide, and spilled my juice on a very disgruntled man who demanded that I, a 7 year old, pay to replace his suit.” you say, listing them off with your fingers. “At least, that’s what I remember. Yeah, I got grounded for 2 weeks.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go beat Tony up-“ “No!” you say, grabbing Nat’s arm before she could stalk off. “It’s fine.”

🍾🤬

“I’ll give you three seconds to apologize before I make you need to go to a hospital.” you say, flipping your bottle upside down and catching the neck.

“Pfft, as if I would apologize when I know that’s what you want.”

“One.”

“Oh wah, did you not expect that? Come on baby-“

“TWO.”

“I know you’ll love it, your pretty little lips wrapped around my-“

SMACK!

The sound echoes throughout the ballroom, then a dull thud as the man hits the floor. You look down at him, hitting his leg with the heel of your stilettos.

“Hahahahahaha, I’m sure everything’s fine- Y/n what did you do?” Your father asks, and you crinkle your face.

“I only gave him what he deserved, Daddy. Such a vile man shouldn’t be around children, I’m sure his wife would love to know that.” you say, raising your voice. “He tried to rape me.”

You saw the way his face fell, then anger filled his eyes with fire. “He what, honey?”

“I believe his exact words were, and I quote, ‘Come on baby, I know you’ll love it, your pretty little lips wrapped around my fat cock while I fuck your throat until you can’t speak for a week.’” You see Loki stalking towards you through the crowd, people moving out of his way, almost like the air around him was poison.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked when he reached you, looking you over. If there was so much as a scratch on his best friend, he may just end back up in the dungeons on Asgard.

“Oh no, I’m fine. But he’s probably not.” you say, and Loki looks down as you kick the man for good measure. “Didn’t know an apple cider bottle would do that much, though. Would’ve thought it’d take a few more hits to knock him out. Which would have let me beat his face in with no consequences, but oh well.”

Your last three words were higher pitched, almost like you were upset. Oh wait, you should be, this man just tried to rape you. Yes, Loki was about to commit an act of murder.

🍾🤬

You didn’t get in trouble, you were actually applauded for defending yourself.

You flop down on your couch back at the Tower, sitting next to Loki. You’d finally gotten out of the dress, and changed into a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt. Within seconds you were snoring.

Loki smiles, shaking his head as he went back to his book. Some things never change.

🍾🤬

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and I’m glad I got this shit off my brain. It seems as if all I’ve done today is think of writing, but I’ve only written two things! Don’t forget to lmk if u wanna be tagged in the future! (Ignore the fact I’m being lazy I wrote this at 7 and I wanna read. tryna finish quicker)

@vbecker10 @silverfire475 @huntress-artemis @vickie5446 @sheris532 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @stupidthoughtsinwriting @crimson25 @peaches1958 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose

[bluemusickid]

A request for Jake Jensen x reader, reader is baking and Jake tries to help to only end up in a big mess and them all over each other on the surfaces in their kitchen 😏🍆🤤😉 smut please an lots of it please and thank you 😊

Oh woooow, digging the Jake Jensen love. Sorry it took me so long lol, my brain won't comply. I added a lil' twist, nonnie, hope you don't mind! (Provided you're still reading, heh.)

Pairing: Chef!Jake Jensen × Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), Jake being Jake, kinda filthy lolol

A/N: Join my taglist here. Minors not allowed, pls heed all warnings. You are responsible for your media consumption, and you alone. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I only post my work on AO3 and Tumblr, nowhere else. Reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Peace and love.  Dividers by the wickedly talented @firefly-graphics . Hope you enjoy this lil' lighthearted piece. xoxo Lexi

Baker’s Delight

You huffed, a small cloud of flour forming as you did. You'd stayed back after hours at school, determined to get good at crème brûlée before leaving. Chef Jensen had been kind enough to explain it twice, but somehow your brain wouldn’t register the steps. You were determined to get it right, even if it meant staying up all night, even staying at the school.

You poured the ingredients in a huge bowl, measuring everything to the last milligram. You would make the best crème brûlée the world saw, better than that damn Julian, who just wanted to get Chef Jensen's attention. Pfft. You'd show him.

You were about to start mixing when a noise startled you out of your thoughts, the bowl nearly falling off the counter. Your stomach plunged at the thought of your hard work going to vain, but thankfully, by divine providence, it was caught by a hand which popped out from behind you, grabbing the bowl and swiftly keeping it back on the counter.

You gasped and turned with a whoosh, your chest bumping against a hard wall of muscle, as you looked up into the eyes of your lover. Jake looked at you, amusement evident in his eyes.

“Hey baby.” he crooned, giving you a peck on your cheek. You smiled. You both had agreed to be professional during class, but you had to admit, seeing him in action and being in complete control, made him irresistible.

His meringue class was the the best; his strong muscular arms beating those egg whites by hand, it could be categorised as porn. You’d heard a few girls swoon about how his bulging biceps were flexing with every turn of the whisk. You couldn’t help feeling a little jealous; that night, you rode him like it was the end of the world, in his uniform no less. He was bemused at first, but didn’t complain (obviously).

You did want to make it as a good chef, no doubt, and it did help that he was a renowned Chef, who took his job seriously. But sometimes you felt like if you weren’t together, he wouldn’t pay attention to you. You knew you weren’t the best student, which is why you spent extra time after school, honing your skills. You’d show that kiss ass Julian what a real crème brulèe looked like. Without kissing ass. Well, maybe only a little.

You turned around, returning to the task at hand. You couldn't afford to get distracted, no matter how hot he looked with his tousled hair and chain hanging loosely from the confines of his tight t-shirt. Whisking the egg whites, you faltered as you felt his hands settle over yours, setting the appropriate speed. His hot breath tickled your ear as you felt him hot and hard against your hip, slightly undulating as he helped you whisk. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes closing as you let your emotions wash over you.

"I guess they're done now." You whispered, letting go of the whisk. Jake was now nibbling on your earlobe, his hands resting on your hips. "Good." he mumbled, roughly turning you as he pulled off your apron and shirt in a frenzy, leaving you in your bra. You gasped, alarmed at his alacrity. Everyone had already left the school by now, but the security in the building could very well walk in at any moment.

Pulling off your bra, he took a nub in his mouth, laving it with his tongue, as his fingers skilfully caressed your other nipple, leaving you breathless. Your fingers moved to his pants, trying to undo his belt buckle but failing. He stopped his ministrations, turning you around to face the counter. Undoing your jeans and pulling them down along with your underwear, he dipped his fingers into the bowl of sweetened condensed milk, trailing them down your back. You moaned, unable to stay silent any longer. The asshole knew that your back was one of your most sensitive parts and drove you wild. Leaning down, he licked the condensed milk, softly biting down on the flesh after every caress of his tongue. You keened, moving your hips against his clothed crotch, his arousal very evident. Moving his fingers lower, he slipped a finger into your weeping channel, a muffled groan escaping his mouth as your walls tightened around his finger. He fucked you with his fingers, all the while thrusting himself against you for relief. Breaking apart, you pulled away his hand as you reached behind and undid his pants with urgency, pulling down the offending item in a great hurry.

Letting out a throaty chuckle, Jake pushed you down onto the counter roughly, your ass in the air, bare for him to marvel and appreciate. With a low growl, he took himself in his hand and pumped himself before grinding along your slit, gathering the moisture. With a grunt, he plunged into you, burying himself inside you to the hilt.  You wailed as you felt him enter, the burn a welcome feeling. He pulled out for a bit and thrust again, letting you absorb the feeling of fullness. Your soft moan turned him on following which, he let himself go. He began fucking you, really fucking you, with abandon. Your nipples pebbled against the cold counter, in contrast to the heat that was spreading within you, emanating from your core. 

Pulling your arm, Jake doubled his speed by using your appendage as traction, his thighs squeezing yours, causing your walls to grasp him even tighter. He groaned, rasping, “Wanted to fuck you on your table since yesterday, princess. Seeing you bend around and lick ​chocolate from those delectable fingers got me so fuckin’ hard, gorgeous.” Thrusting harder, he elicited a whimper from you as he pulled you upright, whispering in your ear, ordering you to come for him.

And with that, you were a goner. You came so hard, you saw stars burst behind your eyelids as you screamed his name for the world to hear. He shouted a few moments later, his release coating your walls, every last drop inside you. You both fell forward, knocking down the bowl. Jake raised his head after a few moments, dropping a kiss on your shoulder, “This crème brulèe was wayyyy better than Julian’s, but I’d like to check if you’ve thoroughly understood the method.”, pulling you to the floor for your next lesson.

Tagging: @donutloverxo @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @worksby-d @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @chris-butt @patzammit @chrissquares @a-little-counter-esperanto @starlightcrystalline @jbreenr @readermia @harrysthiccthighss @ozarkthedog @tenaciousperfectionunknown @savior-adriana @whosmarisaaarw @melli0112

[obeiii-mee]

How will the bros react to MC self-doubting themselves? Like saying bad things about them or can't be serious someone give them compliment.

Supportive demon bois coming right up! Sorry I took so long to write this anon! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, thank you all for the love on my previous posts!)

————————————

The Brothers with an MC who self doubts themselves:

Lucifer:

-As the embodiment of pride itself, Lucifer has an overwhelming amount of confidence, almost all the damn time

-So, he was flabbergasted to learn that you weren’t the same

-He always insisted that you aren’t anything but perfect, yet you always seemed to brush the compliments off with a shrug and an awkward smile

-Well, shit, we can’t have that

-Lucifer just got 10x more serious about the matter

-He pulls a really stupid concerned face whenever you insult yourself and he looks more and more like a 48 year old man/dad each time it happens

-He, as of late, increased the number of pet names he has for you and the amount of compliments he gives you each day

-He refuses to let you talk badly about yourself anywhere, at any point in time and encourages every little step you take towards bettering yourself like crazy

- Lucifer wants to prove to you that you are an absolute ray of sunshine and he will go to any lengths to do just that (do not ask)

-He’s even more affectionate than usual which confuses just about everyone in the House of Lamentation, yourself included

-His brothers are feeling a disturbance in the force and they don’t know how to feel about it

-You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he fell as angel and Lucifer is ready to do whatever he can to help you realise that

Mammon:

-“You’re an idiot!”

-“*Sigh*, I know.”

-“Wha-Wait! Y-you can’t say thAT!”

-The Great Mammon is seriously worried about his human

-Being the dense motherfucker he is (i still love him tho) it took him weeks to realise you’re not all that confident in yourself

-At some point in your relationship, he jokingly called you annoying and you just went “Yeah I’ve been told. Sorry.”

-His jaw literally dropped and he almost cried

-He would have choked if he was drinking something

-Tsundere Mammon has gone bye bye and here comes the cuddling teddy bear that is your boyfriend

-He also doesn’t have as much self love for himself as he sometimes pretends to have so he’s kinda in the same boat

-Which means your boat is leaking and you’re perfectly fine with it while he’s panicking and trying to throw water overboard with his hands

-His brothers call him an idiot a lot but he’s a very sociable guy with people skills that he uses all the time in order to coax you out of your self pitiying shell

-Will whine every time you call yourself ‘useless’ or disagree with his compliments because what the hell, you’re literally the most gorgeous being ever let me love youuuu

-When it comes to you and your happiness, he ain’t fucking around. He will snarl at anyone that even looks at you in the wrong way

-Did that to Lucifer once, guess a what happened

-You’ve definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that he is loveable and not a good for nothing scum

-So now it’s your turn!

-Let him kiss your insecurities away please

-Your presence makes him feel wanted so he wants the same for you!

Levi:

-Well then

-It takes two to tango ya know?

-He is the KING of self loathing and no confidence whatsoever in anything he does so every time you put yourself down, he counters it with a self deprecating insult as well

-“I suck.”

-“Nah, you’re pretty awesome normie. I’m the shut in, disgusting otaku who can barely set foot outside his bedroom without having an anxiety attack.”

-It’s like you’re trying to outdo the other on who is worse

-Truth is, he really admires you, especially knowing you chose to date him; an anime nerd with no social life and no communication skills whatsoever

-It hurts a bit, every time he builds up the courage to actually compliment you and you not taking it seriously

-That’s because he recognises that he’s the same and just as harsh on himself as you are

-Levi knows self hatred is something that takes time to demolish

-But you are his Henry after all (also his partner but whatevs)

-He’s not gonna leave you hanging when you need him the most

-He also gradually stops calling you a normie as your relationship progresses, though it still slips through every now and again

-Basically, the first time he realised that you think negatively of yourself, his immediate reaction was: Haha lmao relatable

-But now, every time it happens, he gets all serious

-Puts his controller down and everything, it’s like witnessing a very rare phenomenon and it’s creepy as shit

-He’s also made an effort to be more physically affection though he is kinda shy about it because damn it he just wants to hug you every time you speak badly of yourself

-Probably writes a list at some point stating all the reasons why you are better than him and Ruri chan combined, it’s rlly sweet

Satan:

-He’s a bit curious as to where that mentality has come from

-What triggered you to be so self doubtful?

-He’s basically your psychotherapist and asks you a lot of questions trying to find different causes and solutions for your issues

-Honestly, he puts so much effort into trying to understand, reading books about it from the human realm and whatever he can find in order to help you

-He scrunches up his nose every time you call yourself an idiot or anything of the sort

-Satan knows that insisting you’re wonderful won’t exactly help you overcome this problem of yours

-But that doesn’t stop him from doing it

-It’s not like you can ignore his comments because he will keep complimenting you until you accept them

-He also repeats a lot of pick up lines but that’s just part of being his partner

-What do you mean you’re worthless?!! He would literally give away all of his books and his hatred for Lucifer in exchange for your well being!

-Satan is possibly the smartest out of all of his brothers, so he uses a tactical approach on this one

-Direct affectionate gestures don’t work on you so he’s gonna be more subtle

-Would slightly hint that you are amazing every time you do something for him, like fetching him a book or something

-“Ah thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you love.”

-He’s a lot smoother than he gives himself credit for

-He just appreciates your existence and that there’s someone out there that he doesn’t need to be act hostile or fake toward

-Satan is ready to sit down and listen to you talk about your insecurities for hours on end

-You would quietly say something bad about yourself and he would run through the House of Lamentation before bursting into the room you are in, shouting ‘No! That’s wrong!’ (going Danganronpa on your asses)

-“Welp, I fucked up again. I can’t do anything right.”

-And then, in the distance you hear boss music starting

Asmo:

-*Shocked Gasp*

-How could you say such things about yourself???? Is that even leGAl?

-Of course, the literally prince of Lust, with all of his narcissism, has never experienced things like ‘self doubt’ of ‘bad self esteem’

-Pfft, the fuck is that?

-He only uses the most positive of words when he describes himself

-So obviously he almost falls off the bed when he hears you insulting yourself for the first time

-But ya know, that would leave bruises on his beautiful skin

-“Oh darling, you’re not annoying or a moron! You’re not anything like Mammon!”

-That was a below belt fatal hit, press f in the chat for the second eldest

-At some point, he just genuinely believes you’ve been spending too much time with Levi and that his negativity started rubbing off on you

-But then you tell him you’ve always been like this and he almost has a crisIS

-He’s like ‘Haha, no, we’re going to get a spa day out tomorrow and a few shopping sprees so I can prove to you that you are magnificent in every way imaginable.’

-Asmo loves pampering you in general but on the days he sees you feeling extra sorry for yourself, he goes above and beyond

-Gets very hurt when you brush off his compliments because he just wants you to accept the fact that you’re beautiful

-He’s like a supportive mom lmao, whenever you’re feeling self doubtful, he goes “You’re doing great sweetie, keep it up I’m really proud of you.”

-It’s up to you to decide whether that helps or not

-He’s such a sweetheart in reality, it’s hard to remember that he’s supposed to be horny all the time

-Well he is but that’s not the point, you’re way more important

-Asmo is so much fun to write cuz I can make him so dramatic it’s hilarious

Beel:

-Oh no :(

-He gets very sad everytime you self deprecate yourself

-You can’t do it with him in the room because he’s going to start crying and give you this kicked puppy stare, it will break your heart

-Beel kinda comes over and goes “If I give you some of my food will you please stop saying bad things about yourself? Because it’s not true.”

-Well you can’t say no to that face

-He feels like it’s his fault you’re this self doubtful even though you’ve tried to explain to him you’ve always been like this

-He goes crying to his twin half the time because he doesn’t know what to do

-“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop it! Fucking hell, I’m such a fucking klutz.”

-“Sniffle no you’re not.”

-He’s like, giving you large portions of his food now

-Because food makes him happy so he wants you to be happy too

-🙂

-His brothers go in shock every time because the only other person Beel has ever shared his food with before was Belphie

-Physical affection goes through the roof with this guy

-Bone crushing hugs btw

-Your self worth is so immeasurable with him, you can’t even measure it

-W h o a

-I’m being serious, don’t talk badly about yourself in front of him unless you want to be hugged into next week

-You are a literal angel in his eyes, of course he thinks highly of you

-He’s just hoping his presence isn’t making your self esteem worse, that’s the thing that keeps him up at night

-Idk why but he does think that he is a bad influence on your mental well being since he’s a demon

-Beel gives you compliments all the time and it confuses him when you laugh them off uncertainly because he wasn’t joking or lying??

-He’s always supportive of your choices and encourages you to be more confident

-The same way you show your support everytime you come to his games to cheer him on

-Overall, he just wants you to feel special and appreciated

-Because you deserve it

-IneedmyselfaBeel

Belphie:

-He feels like absolute shit

-Becuase he’s well aware he‘s called you a few...not so nice words in the past

-Back then, he only thought he meant everything he said but now that he’s hearing you accept his insults and actually repeating them yourself?

-It hurts his brain and he wants to smash his head against all four walls of the room for being such a cretin

-You do tell him it’s not exactly his fault you think so badly of yourself

-But he still believes he fueled it

-So now he needs to fix it

-He’s tried everything and I mean everything

-It’s kinda working, slow progress is made which he’s really happy about but you know, it’s gonna take a while

-He finally settles on physical affection as the best way to communicate his gratefulness for you being youself

-Oh, he wasn’t hugging you before? He is now, get your ass next to him and let him cuddle you

-Handholding has increased by 69% in the last month, sorry for the loss of your right hand with how much he squeezes it

-Sometimes, he can’t help but a throw an insult at you in a playful manner, because he’s an asshole

-But he always makes sure you understand that he was just joking

-He’s such a little shit, you would be having a chat with him and you would subtly drop a insult at yourself hoping he wouldn’t notice

-But then he stops dead in his tracks, kisses you, says “Shut up, you’re stunning” and then he goes right back to the previous conversation like nothing happened

-Accept his compliments damn it otherwise he will continue to bug you about it for the rest of the day

-He’s an eboy and he’s a dickhead a times, but he just goes soft for you tbh

-If you’re feeling really bad about yourself, he won’t even say anything

-He will just big spoon you for the next 24 hours, good luck going to the bathroom or any meals during that time

-Because once you’re in his grip, you’re not getting out that easily

-He gets so pissy if anyone says something even slightly negative about you to your face

-One time, a random demon called you stupid in one of the classes at RAD and he was like ‘bïtch excuse me what?’

-Snapped his head around at him and everything

-He would have done something worse but he was lazy and feeling really petty

-So Belphie kicked him in the privates from under his desk like a damn spoiled brat

-And then he turned his head back to you, all smiles and rainbows and puppies

-I’m simping so hard for a fictional character wtf

-I had to write more protective Belphie cuz I can’t find anything of the sort anymore and I need flUFF

(Haha, I don’t know what this post is, my writing has officially taken a shit lmao. Sorry this took so long to finish, I kept going back to edit all of them)

Al~

[juhakxyeon]

Can you please write about a threesome w nahyuck... I can imagine like donghyuck being ur bf but jaemin kinda finds you hot so one day u three are alone in the dorms and... they end up spit roasting you or some crazy shit like that lol THANK U I LOVE UR WORKSSS

TITLE: SPIT GONE WRONG

PAIRINGS: DONGHYUCK X READER X JAEMIN

GENRE: Fluff

WARNINGS: None.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for months but I really like this combo and concept, so these two may become a regular together. Wasn't sure if I should include smut in here so a part 2 is coming soon...

"Ew," you say as you set your things down on the counter. Shifting your eyes towards the member in front of you you cringe. "This isn't even your dorm why are you here?"

Donghyuck's eyes peirce yours with irritation.

"I should be asking why your here?" He throws back making you fiddle with your fingers as your gut wrenches.

"Jaemin's my friend, a better friend then you ever were," you pause. "And your my boyfriend."

A hand flies to his chest as he closes his eyes.

"Went to far," he grasps out.

"Shit, sorry. I got to into it," you confess wrapping around the counter to peck his lips. "How are you? Where is Jaemin, anyways?"

"Right here, watching you guys roleplay... Again," he sighs out pushing you to the side, fingers lingering, to get to the fridge.

You lift you head towards him making eye contact as you wrap your arms around your boyfriend!Donghyuck putting your head against his chest watching the other.

"You should join sometime, its really eventful," the older boy says.

Jaemin eyes you both in disbelief as he closes the door and begins to walk out of the kitchen muttering something you couldn't hear.

"What was that?" You ask loudly.

"You both disgust me," Jaemin rasps out, heading into his room.

Gripping Donghyuck's hand, you both follow after the youngest as he sits in his chair facing his computer.

Taking a seat on the bed your boyfriend sits on Jaemin's lap as he gets a game ready to play. His arms wrapping around the others neck as he let's a pout spread across his face.

"I want to play too," he whines kicking his feet a bit.

You smile at his antics while Jaemin barely flinches, being use to this type of behavior. Even though, you were also familiar with this side as your boyfriend was a playful kid at heart, it never fails to spark an excitement within you.

Pushing yourself off the bed you wrap your arms around the youngest neck as his game continues to load.

"Me too! Can I please, please, please play?" You beg shaking the chair.

Jaemin let's out a sigh and closes his eyes.

"You don't even know how to play," The youngest states.

You scoff.

"Maybe, I want to learn. I didn't say anything when I taught you how to properly cook," you shoot back. A defensive tone overtaking you as you step back.

Donghyuck scrunches his face.

"You taught Jaemin how to cook?" He interjects.

"Not really, she just tried to teach me to use measurements," he grumbles as he clicks the keys on his keyboard.

"Nobody uses measurements," Donghyuck insists.

"I do!" You argue.

"The more reason why you don't cook," your partner says, letting go of Jaemin's neck.

Eyebrows furrowing together you open your mouth to respond but Jaemin beats you to it.

"Don't tell me you're the type to read at parties," Jaemin snickers.

Your lips seal together in guilt as you slump on the bed.

"Unfortunately, she is," Donghyuck confesses for you.

You feel your face heat up as your boyfriend outs to your friend. He was suppose to be on your side, or so you thought. With Donghyuck there was no telling what he was planning on doing in any situation.

"It was one time!" You input loudly of the cars racing on Jaemin's computer.

"Pfft," he waves you off. "Sometimes I forget just how much you act like a grandma."

You purse your lips as you suppress a smile.

"Sometimes I really wonder how you were the fastest out the millions of sperm," Jaemin ponders.

Donghyuck howls in laughter.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. So funny, let's all just roast, y/n today," you mock standing up to occupy yourself.

Fixing the blanket you hear your boyfriend sober up as he begins to talk.

"No, but really sometimes you do the most oldest shit," he admits.

Dropping the pillow on the bed you turn with your hands on your hips.

"Like what?" You question, truly confused.

"You schedule when we have sex," he points out.

"Schedule your sex?" Jaemin questions.

You spin on your heel and pick up the pillow putting it in place. When he says it out loud you can't help but think how ridiculous that sounds. You'd assume not many people should have to schedule their sex lives or even think out it as an option (unless you're trying to get pregnant).

"I mean we- we have busy schedules," you defend.

"Wait, you schedule when you have sex?" Jaemin repeats in a louder tone. "What else do you do really? Hold on-," he gets up from the chair, shoving Donghyuck off, grabbing his phone.

Sitting down for the third time you lift your hands as Jaemin points his camera at you.

"What are you doing?" You shriek as the light to his camera go off.

"Seeing if I can photo shop a better personality for you," he speaks with a shrug of his shoulders.

You gasp out loud as the oldest once again trembles in laughter.

Jaemin smiles at his joke as you launch for him having enough of their jokes.

"You guys suck.. Big time," you express hanging on Jaemin's back, ignoring the tightness of his grip on your thighs.

[ragewerthers]

Relaxation Therapy

Summary:  Iwa has gotten himself so caught up in his paper that he feels he doesn't have time to relax. Luckily his boyfriends know just the way to get him to listen to reason. A little relaxation therapy is definitely in order!

A/n: Hello there!

This is written for a prompt sent to me from @lady-namo​!

She asked for:

'matsuhanaiwaoi? iwaizumi is really, REALLY stressed by whatever and they try to relax him. actually i don't mind how exactly you do it, i'd just be happy with teasy af mattsun!'

This was so much fun to write as I've never gotten to write these four before, but they are ridiculous and amazing to write banter between! I hope that you enjoy it, my friend!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599321

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 3937

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

Iwa growled in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair, staring hard at the readings laid out before him on the kitchen table.

If this civilization wasn’t already lost to history, he would be cursing the ancient Minoans as the texts he looked over spoke of them.  How dare they be so god damn interesting that he decided to write his history paper on their mysterious disappearance?  How dare they lure him into trying to read through dusty old texts that only offered up the same three conclusions each and every time?!  Three conclusions does not a paper make!

With another deep growl he let his head fall to the table with a resounding thud that he immediately regretted more than the Minoans existence.  His pen had been in just the perfect spot for his forehead to land against, sending a nice little shockwave of pain through his forehead and making him reel back in his chair with a shout.  Sadly the force that he’d pushed himself away with was enough to send said chair tilting backwards at lightning speeds and his life flashed before his eyes.

Sadly the only thing his mind supplied was the Minoans.

The bastards.

Squeezing his eyes shut he waited for the cold, hard impact of the floor, but soon just found himself suspended mid-air.

Slowly, almost fearfully, he let his eyes peek open only to be met with the amused and gentle smile of Mattsun.

“Issei?” Iwa said a little dumbly, having thought his boyfriends were still out of the apartment for a grocery run.  When Oikawa was involved this usually meant that the trip could last hours and it felt like they’d only just left a few minutes ago.  Oikawa shouting something sassy from the hall, Hana rolling his eyes and Mattsun promising that they wouldn’t lose Tooru… again.

Now, it seemed, they had all returned just in time to see the Minoans attempting to take him out with his own pen.

“The one and only.  Appears we didn’t get back too late for me to be your knight in shining armor, Hajime,” the taller man said lightly, ducking down to press a careful kiss to the red line already starting to appear over Iwa’s forehead.

“What was that thud we heard when we came in, Iwa?” Hana called, carrying in at least four grocery bags collected on his arms and trying to carefully place them on the table and avoid Iwa’s work.

“Yeah, Iwa-chan!  Mattsun literally jumped the sofa to get in here when he heard you yelp,” Oikawa said with a teasing smirk, putting his own single bag of shopping right on top of Iwa’s work and spreading out his papers even more.

Matsukawa quirked an eyebrow at Oikawa before carefully setting Iwa’s chair back down on the floor.

“This coming from the man who literally elbowed Hana in the face trying to unlock the door when we heard the commotion in the hall.  Don’t act all cool and collected now,” Mattsun teased, watching as Oikawa’s ears tinged red and he puffed his cheeks out into a pout.

“I did no such thing!  I know Iwa-chan is more than capable of handling himself in any situation,” Oikawa huffed, turning around and heading back toward the living room to drop off his coat, scarf and shoes.

“I thought he was going to cry,” Hana whispered to Iwa as he passed by with a few frozen pizza’s in hand, apparently deciding to put away their frozens before taking off his things.  Though he also seemed incapable of dropping a kiss to Iwa’s brow before continuing on and making the man's cheeks warm up more at all of this attention.  Though the thought of Oikawa blubbering in the hallway did make him chuckle a bit.

Soon Iwa felt a strong hand lightly starting to massage the back of his neck and the chuckling instantly quieted down into a soft hum of content.  Closing his eyes, he tilted his head forward reflexively, feeling the way Mattsun’s hand worked its way up to his hairline before soothing gently circles back down toward his shoulder.

“You still didn’t answer the question though, Hajime,” Mattsun said softly as he watched Iwa slowly melt in front of him from the simple contact.  “But if I had to guess, I’d say this paper is putting up a fight?”

Iwa gave a little nod, though he tried to stay as still as possible to enjoy the gentle attention he was receiving.  “The Minoans have decided to haunt me from their graves.  But be careful what you think of them.  They’ll attack you with pens and tipped over chairs,” he grumbled, getting a little snort from Hana who was somewhere near the cupboards now.

“They also seem to be able to turn your muscles into nothing but knots and stone,” Matsukawa murmured softly, bringing his other hand up to start massaging along Hajimes shoulders properly and earning himself a deep groan of pain and contentment.  “Why don’t you take a break?  When the ghosts of dead civilizations start to attack, it’s usually a sign you need to take a step back.”

“Did I hear that right?  Iwa-chan is allowing papers to attack him now?” Oikawa cooed as he came back in, grabbing one of the other grocery bags and the table and carrying it to the counter.  “That’s what turned Issei into a track star?”

“And you into a panicked mother hen?” Hana teased, getting a swat to his arm with a bag of milk bread Oikawa had moments before had cuddled to his chest like a gift from heaven.

Iwa blinked his eyes open to give him a little half-hearted glare.  “No, Shitty-kawa.  I just… got a little stuck in my thesis and it got away from me a bit.  But I’ll still conquer this paper.  I just have to focus more,” he mumbled before giving a little whimper as Mattsun’s fingers kneaded deeper into the muscles of his shoulder.

“Hajime, I can actually feel your muscles coiling up again as you speak,” Mattsun murmured in his calming baritone.  “I think it would do you some good to take a small break with us.  Just a little breather to get your thoughts refocused?” “I can’t,” Iwa said quietly, a little scowl starting to reappear over his features.  “I only have a couple of days to get this all sorted out and I know that if I keep going I’ll be able to break through this little writer's block I have.  I’m sorry, but… maybe later once I get some thoughts on paper I can take a break with you all.”  Leaning forward slightly, Iwa gently broke the wonderful contact of Mattsun’s hands from his shoulders. He could hear a little exhale of air from behind him as he picked his pen back up and knew that wasn’t what the man had wanted to hear, but it’s what he needed to do. Reaching forward he began to try and reorganize his papers from the mess Oikawa had made of them.

“Oh Mattsun-kun.  You should know better than trying to get through to Iwa with gentle words,” Oikawa said as he drew closer to the table.

“Yeah, Mattsun,” Hana teased from his spot by the sink, turning to watch with a little smirk playing over his lips, his arms crossed over his chest.  “You know that Hajime is only just slightly less stubborn than Tooru.”

Iwa grumbled at that, hunching his shoulders to try and ignore his boyfriends talking about him as if he wasn’t there.  ‘ Now where did that pen go? ’

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” Oikawa chuckled and Iwa could hear him moving around the table to stand next to Issei.  “But… if there’s something I’ve learned about our sweet Iwa-chan it’s that there are better ways of getting your point across.”

Sadly, Iwa was now starting to get back into what he hoped was a groove for this paper and didn’t notice the shared look between his three ridiculous partners.

“That’s right,” Mattsun said, his voice still sounding measured even as the hint of amusement tinged his words.

“Gentle words aren’t enough,” Hanamaki agreed, his voice sounding closer and making Iwa hunch more into himself.  God, why didn’t he grab his earbuds to drown out these idiots ?

“That’s right,” Oikawa’s voice purred, making the back of Iwa’s neck prickle slightly.  “Hajime needs to be persuaded out of his bullheadedness…,”

“Pfft… you’re one to talk, Trashy-kawAHAHA!” Iwa startled as he felt two strong hands send a couple quick squeezes against his lower ribs, making him jolt out of his seat and sending some of his books and papers tumbling down to the floor.  Turning around he saw Oikawa’s hands still extended forward, Hana and Mattsun flanking either side of him with twin looks of mischief and determination on their faces.

The world seemed to pause in time for a few heartbeats as Iwa’s eyes looked over the three of them… his mind racing to catch up with what was happening when all of a sudden the moment of stillness was broken with two words.

“Get him.”

Hana and Mattsuns smiles turned devious as each of them took flight.  Taking off from either side of Oikawa to race around the table toward Iwa and looking for all the world like those evil winged hell monkeys the wicked witch of the west had sent off after Dorothy.

Though to be fair, Oikawa’s accompanying menacing cackle would’ve even sent a shiver down that witch’s spine! Iwa instantly turned and ran out of the kitchen and toward the hall, his heart beating thunderously in his chest as he realized what sort of doom awaited him if he were caught.

“Fly my pretties!  Fly!!!” Oikawa cried from a little further down the hall as Iwa heard Mattsun and Hana slowly starting to catch up to him as they neared the living room.

Oh yeah… Oikawa was never allowed to watch the Wizard of Oz again!

“Get the hell away from me!” Iwa called over his shoulder, only hearing a rumbling laugh far closer than he expected.

“Sorry, Hajime… not gonna happen!” Mattsun called back, his fingers just brushing the back of Hajime’s shirt and making Iwa yelp as he raced around one side of the coffee table… only to find the pair once more splitting up to give chase.

“Damn it!” Iwa shouted, though he was surprised to find the barest hint of a smile tugging up at the corners of his lips from this stupidity!  “Kn-Knock it off!  I’m trying to get some work done!  OOF!”

Iwa had glanced behind him for only a second and that was apparently all it took for Oikawa to make his grand entrance, quickly catching Iwa up in his embrace as he attempted to make a break for it toward their bedroom.

“Oh, what have we here?” Oikawa cooed in that far too smug voice, practically bearhugging Iwa to his chest.  “Why... I think it’s someone in desperate need of a study break!”

“I told you!  I don’t neheheed a breahahahak!  AH!  Stahp it!” Iwa instantly bit down on his lower lip as growly giggles already started to bubble up from his chest.  Oikawa’s fingers dug lightly into that spot under his lower ribs making his legs already feel like jelly as his body tried to twist away from the tingly touch. “Was that grumpy and sassy Iwa just now?” Hana teased as he and Mattsun drew closer.

“M’nahahat!” Iwa giggled despite his best efforts, a little yelp escaping as he felt a third hand reaching up to lightly tickle against the side of his neck as another hand began to squeeze near his hip.

“What was that, Iwa-chan?  Did you just say you weren’t being grumpy?  Because I’m positive I heard you trying to defy me and not take a break,” Oikawa murmured back dangerously as Iwa tried to weakly swat at the hands seeming to come at him from all angles.

“Stahahahap it!  I… I hahahave to gehehet back!” Iwa gasped out between giggles, soon finding himself being lifted off the ground as another pair of arms wrapped around him.

“Oh no.  I think you are in desperate need of a bit of relaxation therapy,” Mattsun said softly, seeming to be the one doing most of the lifting now before Iwa found himself unceremoniously dropped onto their sofa.

Before he could sit up he found Oikawa already straddling his thighs, Mattsun pinning his wrists overhead and Hana settled on his calves.

“And if I remember correctly, a little bit of laughter can go a long way in helping someone relax,” Mattsun teased.  The look in his eyes instantly making Iwa try to wriggle his hands free from the former blockers grasp.

“No!  R-Really!  You guys don’t have to do thi-HIHIhihihis!  Hahahana nohohoho!“ Iwa gasped out as he felt the light scribbling of fingers against his arches, his legs trying to weakly kick out, but with Oikawa and Hana both settled on his lower half he knew he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Oikawa turned to catch a glimpse of Hana’s focused attention on Iwa’s poor feet, chuckling at the reaction it was already causing.  Turning around he caught Issei’s eyes and gave him a devilish smile as he listened to Iwa’s giggles already bubbling up so sweetly. “Well, Mattsun-kun… we can’t let Hana have all the fun.  We need to be here to help our sweet, Iwa-chan too!” he teased, his fingers sneaking under Hajime’s shirt to start lightly fluttering along the sides of his tum, just barely scribbling as they moved lower and lower toward his hips.

“NO!  NO nahahahat my hihihips, Tooruhuhuhu!” Iwa squeaked out, his body already starting to shimmy side to side in the hope to block some of what was to come. “Oh, Hajime,” Mattsun crooned in his deep voice.  “I think you have so much more to be worried about then just your hips.” Iwa only had a moment to try to register what Mattsun was saying before he felt the man's fingers settling on one particular rib on his left side.  His eyes instantly widened and he began to squirm more as he knew what was coming. “WaitwaitwaitwaAHAHAHAGAHAHAD!  NOAHAHAHA!” Iwa instantly cried out as Mattsun began massaging and vibrating his fingers deeply against that particular rib.  Years ago he had cracked it during a match and a bad collison and somehow upon healing it had managed to become far too sensitive to even the lightest touches.  He regretted ever letting these bastards find out about this particular weakness!

“I think Iwa is really enjoying his study break!  Look at how big he’s smiling!” Mattsun called over Hajime’s laughter, bringing his hand up to flutter against one of his exposed armpits and making the poor man try to tug his arms free once more.

“Look at that sweet blush!  Oh Iwa-chan I wish I had my phone to capture this!” Oikawa crooned softly, his hands moving to settle into the little dips of Hajimes hips, his thumbs starting to rub deep, quick circles right against the hyper ticklish spot and nearly sending himself and Hana flying off the sofa with the way Iwa jolted.

“NO PLEHEHEHEASE!  I CAHAN’T!  I CAHAHAN’T!” Iwa cackled wildly as Oikawa’s thumbs found a rhythm that had him bouncing what little he could on the sofa.  His head was tossed back against one of the throw pillows and his entire body felt like one giant sensitive spot. Hana snickered from where he was lightly tracing his fingers over Iwa’s socked arches, making the man's toes curl and his feet twitch from the light contact.  “Can’t what?  Escape?  We know that already, silly Iwa,” Hana teased, finding a nice little spot right in the center of his partners arches that seemed to make the poor guy shriek. “Oh!  I think I definitely have the best spot!”

Tooru huffed from his spot on Hajime, looking down at the mans face already turning pink from laughter.  His own hands had paused as the light tickles to his feet from Hanamaki seemed to be driving him into hysterical giggles.

“That’s not fair, Hajime!  How come you let Hana have your best spot?  You always told me it was your hips!  Were you lying to me, Iwa-chan?” he asked with mock suspicion, narrowing his eyes and fighting a smile as his hands gave Iwa’s hips a few warning squeezes.

“NO!  NO Tooruhuhu!  I… I didn’t lie! I dihihihihidn’t!  AHahahagahahad!” Iwa cackled, turning his head into his outstretched arm to try and hide a snort that escaped him when the squeezes turned into scribbling fingers that raced up his sides before quick and nimble fingers began to vibrate over his tum.

“Hmmm… I don’t know.  Sounds like this is also a good spot!  Have you been hiding them on me?!” Oikawa gasped dramatically, though this time he didn’t bother hiding the soft smile he had on his face as Iwa laughed so brightly and openly.

Mattsun had paused his own tickling as well as he watched Iwa losing himself to his laughter from the other two.  His goal had been to make Iwa relax and really this was already having the desired effect.  Iwa’s brow was no longer furrowed in grumpiness, his expression soft and bright with laughter pouring out of him.

However, this didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to truly drive home how much Iwa deserved this and how much he needed to listen to his boyfriends every once in a while.

“Oh, Hajime.  I think you were keeping secrets from us,” Mattsun teased as he lightly fluttered his fingers against his right armpit and then his left, making Iwa jump with each soft attack, his giggles always intensifying when he did it.

“Nehehehever!  I w-wouldn’t!  I prohohomihihihihise!” Iwa squeaked out, his laughter already starting to become quieter as he neared his limit.  Unlike Tooru, who seemed to gain energy during their tickle attacks on him, Iwa always seemed to have one big burst of energy before becoming absolutely compliant in their arms.

Mattsun chuckled at that and shook his head.  “Hmm… I don’t know… you’re getting pretty jumpy with these tickles here.  I think the best way to make sure you aren’t hiding any more secrets from your boyfriends is to attack all these good spots at once.  What do you guys think?” he asked, watching as Oikawa and Hana both perked up with bright smiles, their resounding ‘YES!’s’ easily covering up Iwa’s frantically giggled ‘NO!’

“I think the majority wins!  Ready, Hajime?” Mattsun murmured fondly, though judging from the way the man was already giggling so hard his cheeks were turning pink he knew he wasn’t about to get a proper answer.  “Then here we go, on the count of three!  One!” he counted, fingers wiggling just above Iwa’s torso and making him shiver.

“Two!” Hana called, letting both of his index fingers zip up Iwa’s soles in warning of what was to come, a startled squeal and wriggle the only answer from Hajime.

Oikawa glanced down at his Iwa, watching as the man peeked his eyes out from where he had been trying to hide against his arm, his smile bright, carefree, but still with that little bit of challenge behind them.

Oikawa’s smile grew at that in return.  Never one to take a challenge lightly.

“Three!” he cried, and instantly, all of their hands were on the attack… and Iwa lost his mind.

Hanamaki’s fingers scribbled and traced all of his soles, moving from his arches to under his toes and drawing out the ugliest snorts Iwa had ever heard himself make. Tooru’s fingers exacted lethal attacks against his stomach, sides and hips.  His fingers would massage and vibrate against the bones of his hips before moving up to massage deep circles against his lower ribs and then moving to scuttle around and vibrate against his sides and tum making him bounce and jump at the deeply ticklish touches.

And finally there was Mattsun, the instigator to all of this if Iwa had to name someone.  He’d abandoned his hold on his wrists to use both hands to attack his upper ribs and armpits with fluttering fingers and scribbles that had made Iwa shriek before dissolving into wild and carefree laughter.

His arms had instantly clamped down on Mattsun’s hands and he tried for all his worth to try and wiggle away or curl into the sofa, but there was no escaping three evil boyfriends hellbent on teasing him into relaxation and oblivion all in one.

“NOHOHOAHAHAHA!  PLEHEHEHEASE I… I CAHAHAHAN’T!  IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAD!” Iwa cried out through his hysterical laughter, his mind completely taken over by nothing but ticklish sensations and absolutely nothing left to remind him of his earlier troubles, the Minoans, the paper… nothing but how terribly his boyfriends were wrecking and how much it tickled! “Do you think Iwa’s had enough?” Mattsun chuckled, already starting to slow his tickles as Oikawa and Hana both smiled softly at Iwa.  Even their fingers started to turn from terrible tickles to lightly soothing over those spots.

“I think Iwa has learned his lesson,” Oikawa cooed softly, his hands soothing against his boyfriends sides as Iwa slowly regained back some sanity, giggling and panting even as he felt the tickles starting to subside.

“L-Lehehesson?” he giggled, voice a little hoarse from his laughter as Mattsun nodded. “Yes.  To listen to your boyfriends.  To take a break.  To enjoy some relaxation therapy.  To not take your papers so seriously they almost hurt you,” Mattsun listed off, carefully removing his hands from under Iwa’s arms and making him shiver before starting to sooth his fingers through his messy hair.  “This is really all we wanted to achieve, Hajime.  For you to have a moment to just let loose and step away from those things that were stressing you.  Apparently we can only get that across that stubborn brain of yours with some well placed tickles.” Iwa felt his cheeks flushing a bit, giving a little hum and closing his eyes as his breathing started to calm more and more as he felt the gentle touches now moving over him.

“I’m… sorry I didn’t listen sooner,” he chuckled, melting a little more as Oikawa began to lightly massage down his arms and Hana moved, lifting Iwa’s legs so that he could sneak to sit on the sofa, letting them rest in his lap so he could soothe along his feet, ankles and calves as well.  

“No need to apologize, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmured softly, ducking down to press a few soft kisses against his boyfriends pink cheeks before carefully moving off of him, sitting beside the sofa as he watched Iwa starting to relax more and more.  “Besides… we achieved what we wanted.  You’re relaxing and taking a breather now, right?  So we’re really all winners here.”

Iwa gave a gentle, tired chuckle at that, his eyes already closing as he was pampered so lovingly by them all.

“Re… Remind me… to do this… more often,” Iwa murmured, his voice already growing softer as sleep carefully called to him after his intense tickle attack.

“I think we can do that,” Mattsun murmured fondly, giving Iwa a soft tickle behind his ear, making the man giggle softly before his breathing evened out and soft snores could soon be heard.

If this was the end result of their efforts to get Iwa to relax, they would definitely have no problem reminding him time and time again.

[waveypedia]

and now, for my next number, i’d like to return to the classics

Rymin Week Day 7: Domestic

1 2 4 5 6

Ao3

~

It’s been years since he lived primarily in his van on tour, but Ryan will never not be grateful to always have a kitchen.

Early morning sunlight streams through the soft white curtains as he goes through the motions of breakfast. The curtains were a gift from one sister, the cookware a gift from their old manager before she got promoted. The sleek fridge, which Ryan opens next, was a careful purchase he and Min worked together to carefully pick out, as is the same for most of their furniture. The eggs he pulls out from inside it are from their local farmer’s market, where all the vendors know them by name. Not because they used to be semi-famous rock stars, but because they come by every week toting instruments to serenade the shoppers with.

Ryan coats the pan in nonstick cooking spray and cracks the eggs into it. Salts it. He puts the ingredients away while he’s waiting for it to cook and pours two glasses of water.

Then, all that’s left is the waiting.

Ryan finds one of his guitars leaning against the wall in the next room. Their apartment is chock-full of all kinds of musical instruments they’ve accumulated over the years. After all the fuss Ryan had to go through to get his first guitar as a teenager, it feels both strange and gratifying to see how far he’s come.

One instrument they do not have is a viola. Min has played it on his own, usually on lease from friends, but he won’t play it regularly enough to buy one. Ryan is more than happy with that.

Ryan sits down on top of the counter and plucks a few, soft notes on his chosen guitar. He doesn’t have any particular melody or song in mind; he just lets his fingers play what they wish.

In no time at all, the eggs finish cooking. Ryan regretfully sets down the guitar to flip them and slide them onto plates. Just as he’s turning off the stove, the sound of a door opening down the hall and resounding footsteps reaches his ears.

Ryan snorts.

His husband emerges into the kitchen, hair still messy from bed. Even after all these years, Ryan’s heart flutters at the sight of him.

Min leans down to steal a kiss off the top of Ryan’s head. “Ooh, eggs. Are those for me?”

Ryan swings the plate away, nearly spilling the coveted breakfast. “Of course not. I cook for myself. Never for my handsome husband.”

“Hmm, too bad.” Min grabs a fork and leans in for a bite. “Hey, these are good!”

Ryan laughs and leans against Min’s chest. “Almost as good as your ability to come running as soon as there’s food ready. I swear, Min, it’s superhuman.”

“Only if it’s your food,” Min promises, struggling not to laugh.

Ryan cackles. “Of course. I see how it is”

Min kisses him again and steps away. “I’ll get the table set if you plate the eggs and get some fruit, dear.”

“I can do better than that!” Ryan dishes out the eggs on two plates and cuts some oranges up. He walks over to the toaster and drops two pieces of toast in. “A full breakfast. How about that?”

Min laughs and pulls a tub of butter out of the fridge. “Lovely, thank you.” He peers at the plates. “Eggs and toast. How downright American of you. Would you like some bacon with that?”

 “Hey, at least it’s not post-war,” Ryan quips back. He stretches his arms over his head and sets the plates down on the table. “Eh, that would take too much time.” He leans over to peck Min’s cheek. “After all, I would hate to miss breakfast with my lovely husband.”

Min beams. “Good choice.” His wedding ring twinkles in the early morning sunlight.

Ryan sighs dreamily. “Man, am I glad I married you.”

“Me too.” Min’s smile is fond and so full of love it makes Ryan’s heart swell. When he smiles, all his wrinkles soften and curve upwards like little smiles themselves. Ryan loves to kiss each one.

“So.” Min straightens out and pulls out his phone. “We have a practice session at 4 today, booked at the venue for Saturday’s performance.”

“Okay, good.” Ryan nods. “I want to run through the new arrangement Train to Nowhere.”

Min shakes his head, chuckling. “We’ve been playing that song for forty years, Ryan. Shouldn’t you know it inside and out?”

“I just want to tweak some things for this arrangement,” Ryan shoots back, not unkindly.

“Ryan.” Min reaches across the table to lay his hand on top of Ryan’s. Their wedding rings make a soft clink sound when Min’s hits his. “It’s going to be fine. The fans love that song, as do we. We know it well.”

  I know, I know.” Ryan squeezes Min’s hand and glances away. His eyes catch on a vase of beautiful purple flowers. I need to water those today, he notes offhandedly. “That’s why I want it to be as good as it can be.”

“It will be,” Min promises.

Ryan smiles. “I believe you.”

Min laughs, reaching across with his other hand to squeeze Ryan’s cheek gently. Ryan laughs, batting his hand away. “Of course you do. You should listen to your husband more often, Ryan.”

“What are you talking about? I always listen to you,” Ryan snorts.

Min waggles his finger. “Ah-ah, that sheet music you bought last week would beg to differ,” he says. “I told you we already had it in a songbook somewhere.”

Ryan crosses his arms, faux-affronted. “Excuse me for wanting more music to play!”     

“I don’t care about that. Just spend our money on music we don’t already have,” Min says, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

Ryan shrugs and lets out a small huff of laughter. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Min gets up to clear their plates. “I’m going to go grocery shopping and then call my parents. Do you need anything?”

“No, but I’ll pop on that call if you don’t mind,” Ryan replies, standing up. “And can you grab some cheese? And the-“

“Those crackers you like, the ones that come in the blue box, I know, I know,” Min says, laughing and shaking his head affectionately. “It’s on the list.”

Ryan walks over and wraps an arm around his husband. “Ah, you know me so well. Thanks, babe.”

Min shrugs him off, laughing. “Stop calling me that! It’s not classy!”

“Pfft, okay.” Ryan kisses Min on the cheek before releasing him. “See you in a few hours?”

“You know it.” Min waves and kisses him goodbye before he’s out the door.

Ryan hums softly to himself as he cleans up the kitchen. It starts out as a B-side from one of Chicken Choice Judy’s earlier albums - their third, if memory serves correctly. Four years after they’d escaped the train, when their career was steadily taking off and they started touring outside of North America.

Ryan shook his head, chuckling softly to himself as he wiped a dish clean. “Man, what a time.”

As he works, the tune slowly shifts into something more original and unique. Something new. When he notices the change, he immediately scrambles for a pen and paper. Luckily, there’s a large notebook of blank sheet music in the drawer under the microwave for this exact reason.

Ryan flips past pages of sheet music penned from similar scenarios to a blank page. He leans against the counter, writing down notes and chords and lyrics as time slips away. Before he knows it, he has a full song on his hands and Min’s returned.

“Hey, honey,” Min says, dropping the grocery bags on the kitchen table and leaning in for a kiss. “Whatcha got there?”

Ryan tips the sheet music notebook over so Min can see. “A new song. I’m calling this one ‘Sunsets’ for now. What do you think?”

Min hums thoughtfully as he peruses the notes. “It sounds pretty, Ryan! May I suggest a ukulele rift here?” He taps the third line down as he talks. “I think that would add to the image.”

Ryan grins. “You’re a genius, Min.” He’s said similar statements many times over their forty-year music-writing career, but it never gets old.

Min preens, laughing. “Oh, I know. I’m gonna call my parents in a few, okay?”

“Sure. Call me when you’re ready.” Ryan doesn’t take his eyes off the music as Min leaves.

When he eventually hits a block, he puts away the groceries. He’s just finished when Min pokes his head out of the office door and beckons.

 “Hello, Ryan!” Min’s mother greets when he steps inside. “Lovely to see you.”

“You as well, 어머님,” he replies, squeezing into the office chair next to Min. It’s not supposed to be big enough to fit them both, but they always seem to manage. Min laughs and tries to bat him off, but it’s halfhearted at this point. Ryan has been doing it for long enough that Min gave up a while ago. Besides, they both know Min likes the subtle affection.

“Just get another chair,” Min’s father grumbles, not unkindly. His wife gives him a small nudge on the shoulder.

“Leave them alone. Let them enjoy each other’s company,” Min’s mother replies, shaking her head in mirth. “If they’re still in their honeymoon phase after all this time, that’s on them.”

“엄마, please,” Min sighs, burying his head in his hands. His mother just laughs.

--

At precisely four P.M., he and Min are settled onstage at Saturday’s venue. It happens to be a beautiful outdoor amphitheater with vines and greenery gently climbing up the pillars holding up the stage’s ceiling. The audience area is open-sky and curves gently downward, like a bowl.

Ryan stands in the center of said “bowl”, guitar hanging from his shoulders by its strap. He raises his arms to the sky and spins, taking in everything.

From his place onstage, behind his synthesizer, Min laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Just taking in the sights.” Ryan does a final spin for good measure before turning to face Min. “It really is quite pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Min gazes up at the orange-tinted sky with a soft smile. “Our manager really outdid herself with the booking this time. We’ll have to thank her.”

Ryan clambers up on the stage, silently wincing at the height gap between the audience floor and stage floor. He’s really not as young as he used to be, is he? “Should we send her flowers?”

“I think she really liked the sunflowers we got her last time. They were on her living room table when we visited her.” Min places his fingers on the keys, hovering just above them. “Maybe chocolate, too.”

Ryan laughs. “How cliché. Is there something I should know?” He waltzes over to Min and wraps a lazy arm around his husband, leaning all of his weight into Min’s shoulders.

Min laughs and shoves him off. “Please, do I have to come out to you again? Not all of us are interested in women, you know.”

“And what a great loss to the female community it is. The ladies of the Min-Gi Park fan club will have to go in mourning,” Ryan giggled. “But really, flowers and chocolate sound nice. She’ll like it.”

Min gave him a thumbs-up. “Sound check?”

Ryan gives his guitar an experimental strum. It echoes across the amphitheater beautifully, filling the bowl with sound and vibration. He whoops. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Not until Saturday, or else we’ll have some very unhappy neighbors to contend with,” Min admonishes, laughing. His fingers fly across the keys. “I’m good too.”

Ryan taps his mic. “Then let’s get ready to rock!” His voice booms across the venue. A few peacefully roosting birds take flight, squawking indignantly.

Min rolls his eyes. “Leave the poor birds alone, and you have a deal.”

“Please, we all know they just want to hear us play.” Ryan fishes his guitar pick from his jacket pocket and holds it poised over his guitar strings. “How do you feel about Train to Nowhere as a warm-up?”

“Fine by me,” Min says. His eyes don’t leave his synth. “It’s my favorite song to play with you, Ryan.”

“Well, of course,” Ryan says. “It’s what got us together, after all. In more ways than one.”

Min laughs. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Care to count us off?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to ask.” Ryan raises his pick and grins. “Five, six, eleven, twelve!”

Somewhere in Canada, the sun sets over a practicing music duo in the early 2020s. They laugh and goof around on an empty stage as birds and a few curious passerby stop to watch. The notes of their original hit song, “Train to Nowhere,” grace the evening air.

In the middle of the song, their eyes meet. They do not speak outside of the song lyrics, but an entire conversation passes through their gaze. It’s all they can do to not run to each other and hug each other right then and there.

After all, Ryan and Min-Gi Akagi-Park have lived a lifetime with each other. And they will live out the rest of their lives with each other, happy and content beyond imagination. 

~

i'm not korean so i'm not sure if the words i used for min's mother are right. if anyone knows better and sees i'm wrong, please tell me! the website said the word min uses ( 엄마 / eomma) is the informal way to say mom, and you only use it for your own mother. the word ryan uses ( 어머님 / eomeonim ) is formal and often used for mothers-in-law. eomma is really similar to the hebrew word for mother, which is amma. i think that's fascinating because hebrew and korean are not similar languages at all. lingustics as a whole is fascinating because you can see where languages and dialects split off from each other and where/why that happened in history. it's also really cool to see languages so similar to each other you can communicate with someone else in two different languages. languages also have cognants (not sure if i'm spelling that right) where a word is basically the same across multiple languages. it's really interesting to see in this modern world of quick and easy communication how many cognants we have, especially for semi-recent terms (the technology unit in french was SO easy). anyway sorry for the tangent i just really love linguistics

man i wasn't planning to write for today until i realized i'd overestimated the chapter count and it felt weird to not write aksdgfjs. i hope i can keep to this schedule of writing every day but school will probably put a hard stop to that. gotta get out as much writing as i can before then! i started writing this at like 9pm i'm so sorry if it's messy dkfhjfkd

we've come full circle! this started with baby rymin and now we have much older rymin. poetic cinema........

the euphoria i got everytime i wrote "his husband"......... they are MARRIED gamers!!!!!

this is a callout post for every time i pour myself a bowl of chips at my aunt and uncle's house and all five of them suddenly think my bowl is a free-for-all even though the bag is sitting right there. stop i am not a chip dispensary. do not be min-gi akagi-park leave my chips alone

title is from uhhhh i don't know what it was called (some indie thing) but it was in my last winterguard show (fuck covid i wanted a senior season) and it just popped into my head. or it might have just been a voice line from something i heard it in another show with different music. whatever it's almost 1 am i'll look it up later. i put it on my titles doc (which is 90% song lyrics and which my brother likes to call the "song lyric moodboard" even though it's just a bullet list) out of impulse and nostalgia and never really intended to use it but it actually fits really well here?? who knew

it didn't make it in but i imagine that ryan and min have a parrot named kez and they've taught it some of kez's favorite and most iconic phrases. imagine you are visiting acclaimed musical duo chicken choice judy's house and you hear a parrot squawk at you "Why do you hate fun, Min." another thing that kind of made it in but not quite was that ryan has all those weird guitars. im picturing this one my temporary songleading teacher at camp, who's a professional musician and probably the most famous jewish folk artist out there (which is a very niche group so he's not really famous), brought out once. it was really small and had like eight tiny strings all crammed in together and it both fascinated and terrified me. i have no idea how you can play that without accidentally pressing all the wrong strings all the time but dan nichols can do it so i've decided ryan can do it too

tomorrow is au day... you know what that means... *shoves rymin into my current hyperfixation*

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or on twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a reblog/like/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[dweetwise]

Deathslinger x doctor or deathslinger x oni? Headcanons or fluff for whichever one you choose, I don’t mind :) (happy birthday to your blog!)

oh it’s been a long time since i’ve written sparkslinger! thanks for requesting <3 i made this as a continuation to my previous fic of them, i hope that’s ok!

word count: 1740

Caleb X Herman: Accidental martyr

Since starting his arrangement with Herman, Caleb had to admit that his time in this neverending hell had become a lot more entertaining.

Whether it was getting roped into questionable experiments, late nights drinking cheap whiskey in the saloon, or his own sporadic visits to the old hospital, being around the doctor was a great way to alleviate the boredom between trials.

Unfortunately, that often came at the cost of Caleb’s sanity.

This moment was a prime example of such an occurrence. After Herman had showed up to their latest encounter with a torn jacket and fresh wounds, Caleb was practically forced to play doctor to make sure the man didn't succumb to his injuries.

That didn't mean he had to be nice about it, though.

“Figures ye’d be cocky enough to try to take the bitch out on yer own,” Caleb snarked.

He attempted to clumsily dress one of the numerous gashes marring the doctor’s shoulders; the Entity’s handiwork, no doubt.

“What can I say? I’m a man who likes to push the limits—shit!” Herman hissed out a curse when Caleb tightened the bandage a little too forcefully.

“Don’t do it again,” Caleb growled, masking the uneasy feeling in his chest with anger.

Herman waved off both the threat and concern with a simple "Yes, yes, now get on with it" and Caleb went back to his mediocre job of caring for the wounds.

Since that first night in the saloon, they’d never talked about whatever this was between them. And that suited Caleb just fine; he was a man of few words, and if anything, he should thank his luck that the blabbermouth he kept for company hadn’t deemed it a subject worth discussing.

Apart from a few snide comments of Herman getting his ass kicked by the Entity, Caleb didn’t bring up the incident again.

And he’d probably have forgotten about it completely, if he hadn’t happened to pick up some spare parts from Autohaven a few days later.

“Are you alright?” Philip asked as soon as Caleb arrived at their designated meet-up spot.

“Just dandy,” Caleb drawled, inspecting the Wraith’s latest haul of scrap from the junkyard.

“You don’t have to act tough, Caleb,” Philip insisted, clearly not getting the hint.

Caleb whipped around to give the other killer a properly disgusted look that he hoped conveyed just how little he appreciating being coddled like a damn child.

“It’s okay; we’ve all been there. I understand,” Philip said, giving a look of sympathy that made Caleb’s skin crawl.

“The fuck you on about, boy?” Caleb spat.

“The Entity,” Philip said.

The Wraith flinched at his own words, quickly glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.

“It… punishes us when we’re not brutal enough or efficient enough,” Philip said, lowering his voice. “And after your leg—there have been rumors, you know.”

Caleb felt the anger bubbling up. Not only did he hate people bringing up his brief time of injury and subsequent uselessness in trials, he also had an inkling of just who had been spreading these specific rumors.

“What kind’a rumors?” Caleb asked.

“You’ve been going to the hospital a lot to treat your wounds,” Philips said. “Herman even had to borrow ointments from Sally, since you’ve been coming in so often.”

Caleb’s eye twitched as he tried to reign his temper. Herman knew damn well that Caleb was insistent on keeping their whatever-it was a secret, yet he seemed to happily gossip to anyone he came across.

“‘Scuse me,” Caleb said. “I’ma need to have a chat with the good doctor.”

When Caleb slammed open the door to Herman’s office, the man didn’t even flinch.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t break my furniture,” the doctor merely offered, not even looking up from his book. “I could hear you stomping here from across the hospital.”

“You,” Caleb snarled, grabbing Herman by the collar. “What did you do?”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Herman said, infuriatingly calm even when face to face with a very dangerous and very angry gunslinger.

“Why does Phil think I’m gettin’ beat up by spider-bitch?” Caleb spat. “Why does Sally know I’ve been comin’ here and you need a bunch’a salve for it?”

“Oh,” Herman said, finally getting his point. “That’s not something you should worry about.”

“Try me,” Caleb snarled, tightening his grip around the man’s jacket collar.

“It might be easier to talk without the strangulation,” Herman countered, his voice strained from the pressure on his neck.

Caleb released his hold but didn’t back off, crowding the man against his office chair.

“Then talk,” Caleb commanded.

“Very well,” Herman said. “As you may or may not know, our Eldritch overlord closely monitors our performance in trials. However, if said performance isn't up to par, it isn’t afraid to take disciplinary measures.”

“So ya didn’t fight it, it fought you? That what yer sayin’?” Caleb asked.

“In a way, I suppose,” Herman said, still annoyingly secretive.

“So what’s that gotta do with me? And stop fuckin’ horseshittin’,” Caleb said.

“Well, in a nutshell,” Herman paused, as considering how to phrase the message simply enough for Caleb to understand. “There was word of the Entity being more agitated than usual. I concluded it was only a matter of time before it chose you as its target, and as a precaution, I deliberately attempted to draw its ire.”

If Caleb was confused before, he was even more so now. The doctor had… volunteered to be the Entity's pincushion? And for what?

“Why?” Caleb asked, hesitantly stepping back from the man and his unknown motives.

“You’re my patient,” Herman simply answered.

“Oh, like these sorry fuckers?” Caleb said, pointing at a human heart sitting neatly in a jar on the desk. “You wanna cut me up yerself, that it?”

“...No.”

“Then what? Ya get off on bein’ tortured?” Caleb prodded, angry at still not getting a real answer. “Well, what is it!?”

“I don’t know!” Herman snapped, slamming the book shut.

It was the first time Caleb had seen the doctor lose his composure, and on reflex he reached for the empty holster on his hip.

“I’ve spent over a decade studying the human psyche, and I don’t know,” Herman said, moving to stand up. “I have no illusions of morality, yet seeing you in agony over your leg—”

“I was fine!” Caleb rebutted.

“The thought of inflicting more pain on you was simply out of the question. So I offered myself up in your stead, until you were recovered. And then I… just kept going.”

“Hold on,” Caleb realized. “You’ve—for all this time!? It’s been, what, months?”

“Fifty-three days, according to my calculations,” Herman said, so matter-of-fact.

“You’re fuckin’ bonkers,” Caleb said. “That shit ends now! ‘M not about to let you deal with my punishment!”

Herman was silent, for once, and Caleb could see his jaw clenching and unclenching. There was a sudden realization that Herman probably felt the same way that Caleb did, a few days ago when he saw the man badly hurt.

Protective.

The anger slowly released from Caleb’s body, and he took a step toward the doctor in a silent peace offering.

“I’ma big boy, doc,” Caleb said. “Been through shit none of yer experiments even come close to. I'm not fuckin' made o’ glass."

"I realize that," Herman said, sighing. "It wasn't my intention to patronize you."

"Pfft, like that ain’t your goal most days," Caleb shot back, the good side of his face drawing into a smirk.

"Well," Herman said with a dry chuckle. "Not in this particular instance."

An apology was left unsaid, but Caleb didn't want one. Still, he kept unwavering eye contact, waiting for a promise that never came.

"And?" Caleb asked when neither of them were budging.

Herman sighed in annoyance, most likely peeved at having been out-stubborned.

"I will make sure it doesn't happen again," Herman reluctantly assured.

"Good," Caleb said, and then inexplicably felt unsure about where that left them. "So, uh… we good, or…?"

Herman smiled. He usually just grinned, or giggled or laughed like a psychopath, but now he looked stupidly handsome with a smile stretching over his lips and making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Splendid," Herman said.

Caleb could only withstand another few seconds of looking at the damn smile before his patience ran out.

"Get over here," Caleb said, tugging the doctor closer by his lapels and into a kiss.

They didn't do this often, and feeling the warm, chapped lips against his own, Caleb couldn't help but think what a damn shame it was. After the injury to his jaw that felt like a lifetime ago, Caleb didn't think he'd be doing much kissing for the rest of his days, but Herman never seemed bothered by it.

Large hands settled on his hips and Caleb could feel the dormant energy lying underneath, electricity always at the doctor's fingertips. It was absurd to think that their hands, constantly used for killing and more often than not caked with their victims' blood, could be used to hold each other this gently.

Realizing he was getting alarmingly sappy from nothing more than a kiss, Caleb pulled away from the liplock and reluctantly stepped away from the doctor's embrace. He adjusted his hat in an attempt to hide the reddening of his sickly pale cheeks.

"Alright, now come on," Caleb urged, cocking his head in the direction of the door.

"Are we going somewhere?" Herman asked.

"Yer comin' to Glenvale where I can keep an' eye on ya," Caleb said. "Don't trust ya not to break a promise."

The words came out harsher than he meant to. Luckily, Herman didn’t appear to take it personally, instead going to grab some of his things without any further fuss.

"If you wanted a romantic getaway this badly, you should have just asked," Herman teased.

"Shut up," Caleb said half-assedly.

Watching Herman pocket a jar of an unknown substance, Caleb suddenly remembered something crucial.

"Oh, one more thing," Caleb said.

"I'm all ears.”

“Tell Sally to keep ‘er fuckin’ trap shut,” Caleb snarked.

He received a fit of maniacal giggles in return, and Caleb realized that the sound that once grated on his nerves now brought a sense of belonging.

He still didn't know what this was between them, but he'd be damned if he let it go.

[the-voltage-diaries]

You’re my Mocha Lisa - Eisuke Ichinomiya

Disclaimer: Coffee Shop AU. Also has shameless self insertion. It’s basically an indulgence on my part lmao.

Word count: 1860

Author’s Note: Congrats on the 1K, @leoamber66​​​! Here’s a li’l something as my congrats~ Also, thank you @akaiiro-yume​ for proof-reading this at like the last second LOL. P.S. Thank you for just like... existing. You pulled me out of my writer’s block every time, leove. Every time I couldn’t write, I remember you doing something - ANYTHING - which made me wanna write for you. And for that, I’m eternally grateful. Love ya.

“Are you certain?” I ask, dubious. I raise my brows at the woman standing on the opposite end of the counter for good measure while I wait for a reply.

Yuki - and I know her name not because I’m a stalker but because she comes here every morning, just saying - looks from her thoroughly rummaged purse up at me and blinks once.

Cute. Very cute.

“Absolutely,” she nods just as her fingers start sorting through the bills again. This woman has no idea how badly I hoped she was kidding, does she.

“So... a grande cup of black coffee. Will that be all?” I might seem all cool and calm on the face, but on the inside, it’s like I’m praying to her conscience to at least order a chocolate pastry to go along with this disaster. Or like a cookie. Heck, I’ll even give it to her for free.

“Yep.” She looks up again and smiles, and I can’t help but notice the way her heels don’t really do much to hide how adorably short she is. I find it almost endearing, the way she has to look up at me every time she needs to say something. It makes me want to ask her more questions just to get her to do that.

Wait. What am I even thinking? Focus on the damn order, Ichinomiya.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking,” she begins while handing me the change, “how long have you been working here? I think I’ve seen you around ever since I started coming to this place.”

My brow twists into an uncertain furrow at that, not used to receiving any personal questions from her. I pause, tearing away her copy of the receipt, and take a glance around to make sure there’s nobody else to whom the question could have been directed. Much to my relief, there aren’t any other customers waiting in line, possibly because it’s still very early in the morning and the cafe is pretty quiet, to interrupt what could potentially be our small conversation.

But apparently, I take too long to reply and Yuki takes it as a sign that she’s tried to cross an invisible boundary. “You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable, of course,” she hurriedly adds, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear in embarrassment. 

“That’s alright. And to answer your question, I’ve been working here since the place was established,” I answer honestly, without missing a beat. But god do I hope she doesn’t try to probe any further into what I said. That’d be a little embarrassing.

“That long? Wow...”

I scoff quietly, smiling. While she bites her lip with her eyes swimming in a pool of faraway wonder, I turn around to get started on her coffee. A certain calm descends between us, with just some light music playing in the cafe.

“It must be nice,” she mutters a little later, mostly to herself before speaking louder. “Being the only employee here, I mean. It’s so quiet in the morning. Feels calming, doesn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

On the inside, I wince at the nonchalance of my response. I’d have loved to correct her that ‘No, I’m not the only employee here,’ but that’d make the explanation a little awkward.

Why? You’ll come to know soon.

After that, we fall into another quiet bubble of our own, and soon enough, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts along with the air, touching every little cranny of the space it manages to cross.

If only I could add some damn milk into this bitter concoction...

Once the black coffee is read in all its biting glory, I pick up the marker to write her name on the cup. “Oh! It’s Yu-”

“Yuki, right?” I cut her off, smirking. “My memory is not so bad as to not remember the name of the one person who recites it every morning to me, you know?”

“O-oh... right..”

One glance in her direction is all it takes for me to catch an embarrassed red pop across her cheeks, and she bites her lip adoringly, directing her gaze away. I know I’ve said it before, but I find this woman absolutely adorable and her blush is probably the icing on the cake.

So, I decide to prod a little further.

“I hope you find it in you to actually finish this today,” I wink, handing her the warm cup. “It does take some effort to make, after all.”

“What... What do you mean?” She questions and I don’t miss the way her blush deepens. She knows what I’m talking about.

“Mm, I wonder.”

“Hey, I like black coffee, okay!”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well,” I shrug, “I don’t exactly blame you.”

She gives up and huffs - of course, I find it endearing - and sits down at a table nearby, taking out her mobile to text someone - it better not be a boyfriend- wait why do I even care - with the drink in hand. I know what’s about to happen in less than a second and I keep an eye on her, thoroughly prepared to savour every second of it.

Yuki takes a sip of her drink and, almost immediately, makes a face like that of Baby Yoda provided he sucked on a lemon. It’s weird and shows blatant disgust. “Pfft,” I scoff, amused, but not loud enough for her to hear me.

The reason why I predicted this would happen is because she has been coming to the cafe and ordering black coffee every morning for the last three weeks, but every single time I catch her making weird faces as she sips it. Every single one of those times when I leave to check my mails, I come back to an empty cafe with a half-finished cup of coffee in her place.

I wonder, is she trying to look mature or something?

I’m still watching her quietly but reluctantly sip her drink when the door chimes, welcoming a new customer. The woman walks straight past the order station and to Yuki’s table once she spots her and sits down, sending a quick greeting her way.

Oh, so the one she was texting earlier was a friend.

Wait, why do I care again?

“So,” the friend begins, and I can’t help but overhear what she says. “Have you asked him out yet?” At that, my ears perk up. Asked who out?

“Would you be quiet!” Yuki whispers, glaring. She’s all fidgety and blushing.

“You haven’t, huh?” the friend smirks. “I saw him, he’s hot. Be quick, or he’s gonna be off the market soon.”

“Zela!”

“I’m being honest.”

“I know...” I pretend to wipe some of the glasses kept nearby when I catch her sending a quick glance my way, but my eyes or ears don’t divert their attention. “But what if he already has a girlfriend?”

For some reason when I hear the touch of desperation in Yuki’s voice, I feel a mild jealousy bite at me. After all, who IS this guy she wants to ask out?

“His name was Eisuke, right?” the friend, Zela, asks and for a second, I cease all movement. 

Was that my name I heard?

“Shut UP, he’ll hear you!” Yuki whisper-shouts, and I wait with bated breath for her to continue. “But.. yeah.. that’s the name.”

“Damn, the name’s just as hot.”

“ZELA!”

“WHAT?! I’m just appreciating the goods. Unlike a certain someone.”

The friends continue their banter, but I’m much too distracted by what Yuki said earlier to pay heed to it. My name isn’t so common, and I’m about a hundred percent sure I heard my name.

Does that mean she wants to ask me out?

The thought makes me smile, and I register the reason why I didn’t want her to have a boyfriend. I’ve been taking her order every morning, making an attempt to see her every single morning since the first time three weeks ago because I want to see her, even if it’s for a handful of minutes. I find her cute, and I definitely would want to see more of that gorgeous blush swim across those supple cheeks.

Wait, is that creepy? I hope not.

The realisation that she has an interest in me is a happy one, and I scoff at myself, waiting for her friend to leave her for like ten seconds for me to make use of this opportunity.

And apparently, the universe agrees because just then Zela gets up and walks over to the restroom, finally leaving Yuki alone. I quickly brew another cup of coffee and add the milk I’d been dying to add with three cubes of sugar. I walk over to her with the cup in hand, and she looks up in confusion. “Allow me to treat you to a much better coffee. Today, 6:30 PM in front of the Tres Spades.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” She mumbles and she absentmindedly grabs the cup.

“I’m asking you out on a date. That’s what’s going on,” I wink, and just then the cafe door chimes for the second time. "I better see you there, Yuki.”

“O-oh...” Another wave of red colours her cheeks before she takes a deep breath and looks at me, right in the eyes. “You will see me there, Eisuke,” she smiles.

“Glad to hear it.”

I turn around with a smile and see Zela coming back out of the restroom in my periphery. My gaze shifts to the person who walked into the cafe just moments ago, and I acknowledge him with a nod when I realise it’s another employee.

“Good morning, Mr. Ichinomiya,” he mutters, bowing his head a little.

“Wait, Ichinomiya?” 

The split confusion makes me look down at the ground with a smirk while I untie the apron and set it on one of the tables. I stay still, patiently waiting for the dots to connect in her head.

“Isn’t this cafe owned by the Ichinomiya Corp-”

Heh. About time.

“Oh god. Are you THE Eisuke Ichinomiya?” She whispers, shock lacing her tone like the most avid of blues. “Like, the owner of this place?” At that, I turn my head to look at her.

“Welcome to Ichinobeanya. I hope to see you again soon.” My lips curve up in a half-smile when I see how awed she looks, and without wasting another second I grab my jacket and make my way towards the door, sincerely hoping to see her again in the evening. “Don’t forget your promise.”

I’m pretty sure I hear her mumble, “I won’t...”

And it’s when I’m almost out of the door and onto the street when I think I hear Zela say “He gave you this new coffee, didn’t he? See, I’ve been telling you, you don’t need to drink that yucky black coffee to impress him!" 

An embarrassed "Shut up Zela!" is the last to reach my ears as I finally close the door behind me with a laugh, looking forward to the evening with an excitement akin to that of a child.