#hope you liked this anon and sorry it took so long

[the-palelady]

YAY REQUESTS ARE OPEN! :D can I please have a lil smth with Simon and his squadmate? I thought about this and ho boi now I feel all sorts of emotions.

I feel like Simon is the type of person to sometimes lose it and push himself to his limits, especially during training. And so he would be ok, but Y/n sees through the facade. And so BAM! Simon is laying down from exhaustion, with the summer heat making everything worse. He desperately needs water, but cant move and every recruit is staring.

We see Simon and imediately go Mama Bear ™️, almost scolding Simon for this despite being lower ranked than him. We bark orders at others to look away, while we give him some water behind his mask.

When Simon gets better and remembers, he is pissed that we might have looked at his face, and says so. We sass back that no tf we dont and that next time he should take care of himself. Simon can only be flustered by us, because 1. We are right and 2. We took care of him in the heat of the moment. He can only sit there like a scolded puppy

Guess who has a bigger crush on us now :)))

i’m so so sorry this took so long!! i drafted this up twice and never got it where i wanted it to go, but we’re finally here!!

It had been a week since he had collapsed in front of a group of recruits, and the whole thing replayed clear as day in his mind. A broken record repeating itself in his mind as he did anything and everything to try and forget about it.

Ghost could still feel the exhaustion that seeped into his bones that was somehow worse that day than it ever had been. The sweltering heat felt more like molten lava than anything. It didn’t help the recruits also seemed to get under his skin more than usual, primarily you, your already defiant nature seemingly ten times worse. Yet for some reason that day you were different. Your sarcastic remarks were instead replaced with quizzical expressions, eyes narrowed, assessing him. He could still feel your eyes watching the way his steps faltered, the twitch of his eye when his balaclava seemed to become one with his skin because of the sweat underneath.

He felt like an open book under the scrutiny of your sharp gaze, his patience dwindling at your rare silence.

Until everything went quiet, for just a moment.

Admittedly, Ghost could hardly remember who he was speaking to or what he was saying, likely terrorizing some poor recruit who had messed up their stance during training. All he could remember in that moment was one second he was standing, and the next he wasn’t.

His eardrums rang for a beat, then it was replaced by a voice.

Your voice.

You shouted to some recruit to grab some water, their rushed footsteps padding off somewhere Ghost couldn’t see. His vision was blurred, your figure above him just a shadow in his eyes even as you bent down at his side, grabbing the base of his neck and holding him up.

You mumbled something, your voice soft, caring, a contrast to what he was familiar with when it came to you. Then he felt the push of damp fabric underneath his jaw, moving its way up and over his nose.

At the time, Ghost didn’t register that you had lifted up his mask. Instead, he laid against the ground, neck comfortably cushioned by the palm of your hand that seemed so cool despite the heat that threatened to suffocate him.

“Hey!” He didn’t react to your screaming, only mentally begged that you’d hurry the hell up and press the bottle of water to his lips.

“What did I say? I said turn the around! Gawking like this is a fucking zoo.”

It was like heaven found home within that single bottle of water when it finally pressed to his lips, the cool liquid making Ghost’s eyes almost roll into the back of his head. He barely paid any mind to your annoyed grumbling.

“I have half a mind to kick your ass you know?”

What?

“Our Lieutenant, our superior, supposed to be an example for us, but instead you’re wearing yourself thin. I mean look at you: bags under your eyes, boots hardly tied when you showed up to training. Barely pushing 0900 hours and you’re already on your ass trying to catch a quick fucking cat nap.”

You continue to dig your own grave as you go on about how he isn’t taking care of himself, how he is supposed to be leading you and the other recruits. If Ghost weren’t on his ass he’d throw you off base himself.

However, that’s what he thought at the time.

Rather than ponder on the rage he felt at your words, he instead realized two things, the first being you were right. Ghost always put the job before himself. Things were easier that way. Instead of living in his mind he dedicated his entire life to his career even though it was as physically taxing as it was mentally.

The second thing he realized was that you had seen his face.

At least half of it. 

And for some reason this ate him alive more than the rest of the situation.

A week had gone by and he had done nothing, but allow his anger to grow. Admittedly, you were right. He didn’t take care of himself. Even so, he couldn’t live with the fact that you had seen something that was meant to stay hidden under the shroud of his mask. You had seen the man underneath Ghost, the man he had pushed down and kept hidden for so long.

The anger grew, festering like an untreated wound, puffy, hot, and seething red, blood boiling. Ghost knew anger could lead people to make stupid decisions, and yet here he stood in front of your door, chest rising and falling, fists clenched tight at his sides. His nails left crescent indents on his palms, those same fists coming up to bang heavily on your door.

The sound echoed throughout the hall. Ghost didn’t even notice some people had peeked their heads outside of their doors before retreating back inside. He finally heard the click of your lock before your door slid open.

You wore the usual military issued attire, grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. Your hair was damp, a hand running a towel through it to catch any excess water. Your expression was neutral even when your eyes met Ghost’s, and for some reason his words got stuck in his throat.

“Lieutenant?” He continued to stare at you, almost completely forgetting why he was here, “What do you want?”

The words were caught in his throat. What did he want? Why the hell was he here exactly? It was like all the hatred he held for you suddenly packed its things and vanished. Although he couldn’t say he necessarily hated you. There was just something about you that got under his skin.

The two of you never exactly got along. You questioned authority, his especially. Despite your ability to outperform the other recruits, your behavior was contentious. You were a thorn in Ghost’s side. You’d roll those sparkling eyes of yours when he’d have to adjust your hold on your gun, a rare occasion. He’d bark at you when you’d run ahead of the group during your morning runs. Your head would tilt back as you’d let out a laugh, a sound that made his fingers twitch, a song that he could get used to hearing. You always saw light in a world you knew was so full of darkness, and that just-

“Hellooo? Lieutenant?”

“M’face.”

Your eyebrow arched almost immediately at his words and lack of context, the confusion written all over the way your eyes darted from where his lips would be underneath the mask to his eyes.

“Other day, during training. When I collapsed, you saw m’face knowing damn well I keep what’s underneath hidden for a reason.”

The tone of his voice was accusatory, and he couldn’t help the way he took a step closer towards you. Even so, you didn’t make a move, hip pressed into the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. When Ghost continued to remain quiet, the only thing you offered him was a scoff, looking down at the floor beneath you as you crossed one ankle over the other.

“Didn’t see a thing, actually.”

There it was. The sass. Ghost could already feel a blood vessel coming to the surface right above his eyebrow, twitching, desperate to burst.

“Ya lucky I didn’t take ya arse to the curb the moment ya decided to mouth off, but looking at something ya have no busin-”

“For Christ’s sake…I didn’t see your damn face, Lt!”

Your shout echoed throughout the hall, but this time no one peeked out. Ghost’s searched your face, your eyes closed. Your hand came up to massage your temple.

A sigh left you, “What’s underneath…it’s none of my business. I would never step over a boundary like that no matter the situation. Kept my eyes closed…”

Ghost could still detect the annoyance laced within your tone, but your voice was softer now.

“Just wanted you to understand the gravity of the situation,” your gaze was resolute when you finally looked up at him, “Everyone here knows how…incredible you are at what you do, Ghost, but none of the dedication you put into this job will matter if you don’t take a step back.”

His ribs vibrated with the beat of his heart, his ears pulsated wildly, rendering him practically deaf as you spoke. Johnny and Price had told him a few times to take a break from work. He knew their concern was genuine, but this was different.

You weren’t them. They didn’t pry open a piece of his mind and make a spot for themselves there as you had, insistently taking up his thoughts like some clingy house cat. That anger he felt slowly dissipated into a forgotten mist, evaporating off of him as he deflated right before your eyes.

“But next time you want to accuse me of something, at least ask first before almost ripping the damn door right off the hinges, hm?”

You raised a brow when he failed to answer you, something foreign fluttering within the pit of his stomach when he failed to maintain eye contact with you. Rapidly blinking to disguise his sheepishness, he nodded.

“Y-Yea…”

He chose to ignore the smirk he was met with when he finally looked back at you.

[lovemepartly]

Do headcannons sfw and nsfw of gyeong-seok pleaseeee 🥺

gyeong-seok ✩ headcanons

warnings: 18+, smut.

a/n: thank you for the request anon!! sorry this took me a while to get up, but i hope it was worth it! i’ve never written for gyeong-seok before so any feedback is much appreciated.

sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• it took gyeong-seok a lot of courage to initially ask you out - he was terrified you were going to say no. when he finally asked, stumbling over his words, your eyes instantly lit up.

when the doorbell rang that saturday, you opened the door to see him standing in a polished outfit holding a bouquet of flowers. “i brought these for you.” he smiled, holding them out. you thanked him graciously, planting a small kiss to his cheek, which only made him blush. the date was spectacular and he was such a gentleman - always holding open the door for you, pulling out your chair at the restaurant, and finally racking up the courage to hold your hand as he walked you home.

• you are basically his muse. one random morning while you eat breakfast, you’ll feel his gaze on you and turn to look at him, smiling. “what?”

“you’re so beautiful,” he’ll say. “let me paint you.”

you’ll laugh at his compliment, brushing it off, as you feel your cheeks heat up.

• he loves to cuddle you. in the mornings, he’ll pull you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head before burying his face in your neck. his hands will lightly scratch your back and his legs will tangle with yours underneath the sheets.

• gyeong-seok is pretty introverted. however, whenever you go out to social events, he insists on coming with you.

“you don’t have to come.” you’ll murmur, cupping his face.

“no, no, i want to.” he’ll insist, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

he’ll stick next to you the whole night, politely introducing himself to your friends. he’ll hold your hand the whole night, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. sometimes, his hand will make its way to your waist. honestly, he doesn’t mind going out as long as you’re with him.

nsfw under cut ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• gyeong-seok is defintley a soft-dom, but he secretly loves it when you take control, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap. as you line up his length with your entrance and sink into him, head titling back, he’ll only look up at you transfixed, as his hands lightly grip your hips.

• he loves to kiss your neck. whether it’s innocent - the two of you at a grocery store and he’ll hug you from behind, placing a small kiss on the back of your neck - or it’s passionate, as his lips move breathlessly down your neck. he’ll leave marks on your neck, usually accidentally, but he secretly loves to see you wake up with small red bruises on your neck.

• as the kiss begins to heat up and his hands move their way up your thigh he’ll pull away and whisper, “tell me what you like.” you’re almost shocked. no guy has ever asked you that before. as his kisses make their way lower down your body, you can feel his hot breath on your core as he gets to work. he’s skilled, his tongue circling your entrance. as he hits a particularly good spot, your hands will gently make their way into your hair. “right there,” you pant breathlessly, and he listens, not stopping until you’re a shaking mess beneath him.

• gyeong-seok is such a gentleman, and that definitely translates in the bedroom. the first time you tried to give him head he insisted, “no, no, it’s fine,” and skillfully flipped you onto your back. the last thing he wants is for you to feel used. the more comfortable he gets, the less he’ll protest, and when you finally bring your lips to his shaft, his eyes will roll to the back of his head at the feeling. his hands will gently tangle into your hair, holding it away from your face, and within minutes he’s releasing into your mouth.

[silkythewriter]

I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—

Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.

Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎

Warnings!: Non!

Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!

Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID

Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

“Call me, you can call me

Boy, just call me (call me, call me)

While you stalling, I'm evolving

I'd give all me”

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!

First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!

No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.

Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!

Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.

The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!

He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.

All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.

Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.

He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!

Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”

Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,

honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.

Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.

“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”

It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him

The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!

Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.

Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω｀💧)

He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.

At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.

He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!

He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.

It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.

Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)

He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!

overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[komystda]

tim character animation practice! this took a lot longer than it shouldve

when first getting back into marble hornets last month a huge inspiration was the lovely @sickhoondr and their style of drawing the characters, so a huge thank you for the fantastic art 🐟 💙 and making me want to make these silly moving pictures

hopefully i can make more of these but this took a while HAHA

Here's some different versions and progress for anyone thats curious:

from storyboards to final, i hope you guys enjoy the little animation haha. more to come, so as always stay tuned

[stellar-haikyuu]

guardian deity ☆ nishinoya yuu x reader

synopsis: reader is incredibly unlucky with ball-related sports, but volleyball might be an exception, thanks to a certain guardian deity. details: silly/crack | accidental friends | opposites attract | first meeting | 1,277 words | gn! reader | requested by anon as part of my karasuno writing event | my entry for @phantasmaebg warnings: none!

You’re not exactly a sporty person. Why? Sports doesn’t seem to like you very much.

Regular exercise, running, swimming, cheerleading, and aerobics—those things were fine. But when balls were involved? You did not stand a chance.

It all started with dodgeball. The whole point was to avoid the balls, and for someone who sucked at ball sports, the fear should have made it easier. Unfortunately, you’re incredibly clumsy. You trip on a stray ball, falling to the floor. Within seconds, you’re pelted with more dodgeballs and called out of the game.

Basketball was terrifying, having to run into people and have them chase you. It was embarassing enough to be passed the ball, only to run in the opposite direction. That was the one time you were glad to be horrible at shooting. After that, you never tried to go for the ball. Your teacher was kind enough to never call you out on it—he quickly learns it’s not worth another clinic trip.

As if the close contact and chasing in basketball wasn’t enough, you’re thrown into soccer. With two left feet, this is the worst-case scenario. Now you’re definitely more aware of what direction you should be running in, but you cannot believe how easy it is for the opposite team to steal the ball. And the one time you’re running towards the right goal, you kick the ball way out into the field.

You beg for a break once high school rolls around, but it seems your prayers weren’t answered.

Handball…soccer but using hands, you think. With your lack of coordination, you often volunteer to be the goalie; at least you could block something with any part of your body. Alas, you’ve taken a couple of handballs to the face. 

And get this, you weren’t even in school for this one: somehow, you managed to damage bowling alley property on an afternoon hangout with friends. That also involved slipping on the bowling lane, countless balls in the gutter, and almost dropping a ball on your foot.

At this point, almost everyone knew about your laughable luck with ball sports—or lack thereof. You just sigh, hoping to see the day you are no longer obligated to do these activities.

“Would you mind giving this to Takeda-sensei at the gym? He’s coaching the volleyball team at the moment.”

You take the paper envelope from your teacher and nod. “I’ll get it to him.”

“Thank you, dear. See you tomorrow!”

As you leave the faculty room, you’re immediately filled with unease. 

You’d rather not enter the gym while a team is actively practicing, but you don’t really have a choice.

At least you’re not playing the sport, you think.

You step out into the open area, quickly locating the school gym. The squeaking of sneakers are audible from a distance, followed by some rather harsh hits. It’s enough to send a chill up your spine.

Slowly, you walk, trying to prolong the distance between you and the gym door. Eventually, it’s within arms reach, and you take a deep breath before opening it.

And goodness.

Aren’t you just lucky?

“Look out!” 

At first, you don’t register the warning, but the sight of a volleyball hurtling toward you is enough to snap you back into reality.

You raise your arms to protect yourself, hoping that for once in your life, your reaction time can save you.

But the ball never hits you.

Smack!

The sound of ball meeting flesh echoes through the gym, and it takes you a second to realize you’ve just been saved. 

A whistle blows, and the game stops. In the corner of your eye, you see the volleyball rolling away on the floor.

When you put your arms down, you see someone in front of you—a boy with his knees bent and arms outstretched. He must have taken the hit.

“Are you okay?”

“M-Me?” You stammer. “I should be the one asking if you’re okay!”

“Pfft, of course I am!” He gives you a reassuring grin. “Receiving volleyballs is my thing.”

You blink, unsure what to say to that.

“Hinata, you dumbass!” A yell takes you by surprise. “Look where you’re spiking, you nearly hit someone!”

“Huh? I still have to close my eyes, remember?” 

“Oi, oi, calm down you two!”

You’re momentarily taken aback by this display of team dynamics. You hope it’s not serious, considering that you’ve sometimes been on the end of a hotheaded teammate.

Thankfully, nothing escalates. In fact, Hinata—if you assumed correctly—bounds over to where you’re standing. “Noya-san! That was so cool! You moved so fast like zoom!”

Another team member with a buzzcut follows suit, clapping your savior on the back. “That’s our guardian deity.” Then, he acknowledges you with a rather unsubtle waggle of his eyebrows. “This guy has killer reflexes.”

“I see…” You respond, a little speechless.

The orange-haired boy somehow materializes at your side, jumping up and down. “Right? Right? Senpai is the best!”

You glance at this Noya-san. He seems to blush at the praise. 

Though he tries to act cool about it, you can tell it means a lot to him.

“Hey, uh thanks,” you state, finally finding the words. “For saving me.”

“No problem! It’s what I do!”

His glee is so infectious, you can’t help but feel energized. 

“Hello there, I’m Sawamura Daichi.” You realize that another boy is approaching all of you. “I’m the team captain. I sincerely apologize for this, we’ll be more careful next time.”

“Ah, it’s alright, I promise,” you shake your head. “I’m used to this stuff.”

“Used to it?”

“I’m really unlucky with ball sports.” You clarify. “If you’ve heard the rumors, then that would be me.” 

“Ah, I see.” Some sort of recognition appears on his face, though he doesn’t comment any further. “Anyway, is there something you need from us?”

You suddenly remember the envelope you’re holding in your hands.

“Ah. I was looking for Takeda-sensei. I had to give him this?”

“Oh, he’s over there.” He looks towards the other end of the gym, where two adults watch your group with curiosity. “Sensei, they have something for you!”

“Go on ahead,” Sawamura smiles. “I’ll give the team a break to avoid any accidents.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you bow to him before approaching the literature teacher.

As you hand over the letter and engage in some small talk with him, you can feel Noya staring at you from the distance. You try not to think much of it until your interaction with Takeda-sensei ends.

After making your way to the gym entrance, you give their team captain a thumbs up to resume practice.

He calls everyone’s attention, but Noya remains by the door, almost as if he wants to tell you something.

To your surprise, you decide to beat him to it.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

His eyes widen. “Repay me? What? No, that’s…uh-”

Buzzcut passes by and dramatically whispers, “Garigari-kun popsicles. Soda flavor.”

“Ryuu!” Noya hisses, drawing a laugh out of you.

“Is that your favorite? I wouldn’t mind treating you to one.”

Noya seems to hesitate at your offer. “Only if you insist, but you really don’t-”

“I insist,” you cut him off. “You’re my one stroke of luck after years of being involved in ball sports. I feel like I should be honoring you.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out.

“Anyway, I’ll be at Sakanoshita until the evening to study. Meet me there, yeah?”

“I…okay.”

“Alright,” you turn to exit the gym. “See you after school, guardian deity.”

Before leaving, you pretend not to notice how his face flushes once more.

masterlist

[luminique]

if i may... late night bike rides with lighter 🫶

whether you know how to ride a bike or not, most of the late night bike rides are on his bike. he makes sure that everyone is asleep before heading out with you. this way, he could have your arms wrapped around his waist as he drives out of blazewood. the road is pretty smooth for the most part so he takes this as a chance to sneak his hand onto yours, as if to fix your hand placement. in reality, it’s his way of knowing that you’re there, holding onto him.

it gets colder during the night in the outer ring. no blazing sun, the skies are clear, the iridescent edges of multiple hollows. he knows the perfect spot to stop at that had the best views. he clumsily removes his gloves off before putting a hand out for you to hold as you got off the bike. he has all these sharp parts on his gloves and he does not want you getting poked by it.

the stars twinkled across the night sky, it was breathtaking. with the outer ring depending on oil rigs, carbon emissions were high and yet it seemed like this was the only area untouched by it. your eyes may have been on the stars but his eyes were on you. you’d tell him to take his shades off because what’s the point of wearing them at night but he doesn’t want you to see how smitten he is.

it started off with just sitting on the ground. then it progressed to laying down side by side while talking. after a while, he’d notice your change in speech. how you’re talking slower and quieter. that was when he knew that you were getting a little tired. so as usual, he makes sure you’ve got something comfy under your head.

using his arm, he’d guide you to place your head on it. he’s definitely going insane at this moment but you were too busy trying to fight off your sleepiness to even notice his flushed face. you were practically talking nonsense now at this point and then a sudden silence mid sentence.

he doesn’t dare wake you up, instead choosing to watch you sleep. the way your chest goes up and down with every breath, your body unconsciously moving closer to his, searching for some sort of warmth. with his scarf, he’s slowly wrapping it around your neck instead. it’s not that big but it’s enough for the time being. the sound of your breathing and the sounds of wind in the outer ring, he finds it serene enough to rest his eyes, falling asleep right next to you.

you’re woken up by the soft light of the sunrise, eyelids fluttering open. you don’t see lighter next to you but his scarf is still wrapped around you. his voice calls out to you, casually leaning against his bike. he’s facing the sunrise but his eyes are on you. he wouldn’t mind doing this again, as long as it means he gets to spend time like this with you.

[lokh]

what do you think toshiro's version of laios would've been like if he was still with the group during the shapeshifter shenanigans

there have been a few speculations in the tag and among the fans and they are all very good SO i am going to take this opportunity to insert a bit of my shipping bias as i like in my interpretation LMAO agdsfgdfgv

i noted that in actuality shuro seems to have a very good grasp on laios' character??? this is most obvious in the manga later on but even seeing how he criticises laios in their fight... iirc nothing he says is actually untrue or wildly exaggerated, and while he does express frustration over something he feels like laios Should have control over (noticing his cues), he is also aware that laios isnt being malicious and that hes Just Like That. what i mean to say is that while i think his version of laios may seem more pushy and in-your-face, i dont think it will be overwhelmingly so. if its post-fight, i think the idea of laios (and marcille) being willing to do anything to get falin back made a big impression on him, as well as the idea that they need to eat and rest in order to succeed in their goals, so those aspects would be prominent in his version. he seems pretty observant, so i think for the most part the physical traits would line up, but i think there would be specific things that stand out to him that would appear strangely striking on his version of laios (like. idk something about his eye colour or the subtle contrast of his armour and chainmail. he seems to have a weird sense of aesthetics if extras are anything to go by lmao). if hed actually been paying attention all those times laios had gone on about what the hell ever, then it might be even MORE hard to tell apart his version since he would also have a good grasp on what laios should know. so either his version of laios is pretty difficult to pick out, OR despite the character being accurate his appearance is too. stylised lmao (exaggerated features or something) OR!! they just get him to pull out his monster gourmet guide thing and are able to tell from there. iirc everyone was surprised at its appearance so its possible toshiro had also never seen it before

IN MY IMAGINARY SHIPPING SCENARIO............ lets say that his laios isnt able to be picked out immediately and that the monster guide thing also doesnt immediately occur to anyone. what the real laios Specifically notices is how close this other laios keeps getting to shuro. and hes like. ??? why is he getting so close to him, theres no way i get that close to him??? but no one else seems to be picking up on it as weird, so hes having a small crisis like do i REALLY get that close to him???? and now that hes on the outside he notices shuro subtly leaning away and he feels both a wave of shame and..... protectiveness??? (JEALOUSY??????) and he immediately steps in and grabs him like Hey!!! cant you see hes uncomfortable???? weve been through this already!!! and like. ok i cant believe im doing this again but i need to separate this into different endings

a) the whump route: i dont think shuro ever envisioned Actually Telling laios about his frustrations outside of being basically cornered into it. has he ever spoken up against what was expected of him?? has he ever been confrontational???? i think part of what held him back from expressing his frustrations, along with the cultural norms, could be fear of what the reaction would be. if he had done the same in any other aspect of his life (his family, his inheritance), i think he would expect disappointment, disapproval, more proof that he doesnt add up to expectation. to be honest i dont think he Truly believes that laios is the type of person to react like this. but it was strong enough to prevent him from acting and i think would be projected onto his image of laios. maybe fake!laios says something dismissive like Well if it really bothered him hed say something right? what, he cant even stand up for himself? cmon, shuro, prove that you cant handle it just like everything else. and thats pretty much the fastest giveaway that it isnt really laios. of course this would be a HUGE tonal departure from what the actual episode/chapter was, so:

b) the dumbass route: both laioses break into fisticuffs, and, yes.... barking. and so they speedrun the entire encounter as the shapeshifters true form appears and, after laios points out that thinking too hard about others versions of you can tear apart groups and peace of mind, they pointedly do not speak of it again. they think about it though. a LOT

c) the normal route: both laioses argue normal like and the group ends up being able to tell them apart because the fake laios goes on a little too long about how theyre all here for falin and everyones like ok its not like he DOESNT love his sister but.......... the rest of the scenario probably goes like canon, though then i would want to see what everyone Else thought of shuro

[aelswiths]

Aethelflaed and Uhtred in 3x04

Requested by Anonymous

[paceyjoeydaily]

DAWSON’S CREEK | 3x22 - “The Anti Prom” 

[juiceofmoons]

They are called kitsune, and some are divine and some are mischievous or wicked.

skz as mythical creatures:

˚ʚ🦊ɞ˚

Yang Jeongin -> kitsune

requested by -> anon 🐾

･ﾟpins･ﾟ

[marqenobi]

EP 07, BERLÍN 2023

[mumms-the-word]

Maybe for an angst one shot could you please write Minthara x human fem!tav? How Minthara knows her girlfriend will get older quicker and won’t be able to live for hundreds of years like her

Hey anon!!! I am SO sorry it took me forever to get to this but here you go!! Some unexpected Minthara angst for your day :’)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Immortality

It began the day Minthara saw her lover staring at her reflection in the mirror. The beginning of a long, drawn out ending that was paradoxically, frighteningly, all too close.

She had paused in front of the mirror, Minthara’s lover had, lifting a hand to tuck some of her long hair behind her round ear when they both saw it. The first gray strands, standing out starkly against her lover’s dark hair.

Minthara said nothing that day. She simply watched as her lover pulled back more of her hair, silently counting the strands, before leaning in to examine other features. The tiny lines around her eyes, the lines around her mouth. She dragged her hand absently down the column of her throat and turned her head this way and that, simply looking.

Looking for signs of age.

The examination had taken mere seconds. After that, her lover had merely frowned briefly in the mirror before fixing her hair and turning away, moving on to her next task. But the memory burned into Minthara’s mind, bringing with it thoughts and fears that Minthara had never yet dared to entertain.

She wouldn’t live forever. Minthara had always known that. With lives as dangerous as theirs, always dodging a blade in the dark, always attempting to stay two steps ahead of the next poisonous scheme, they were not guaranteed tomorrow, let alone a lifetime with each other.

But that wasn’t what bothered Minthara. To live a few months with her lover and lose her to an assassin’s blade or the schemes of the drow matrons was simply the threat of reality. She had lost countless lovers in such ways before. Though this woman, her beloved, meant so much more, Minthara was prepared after a lifetime of loss to deal with the grief of losing her to war.

Minthara had not been prepared to face the possibility of losing her lover to mere time.

She was over two hundred years old, while her lover had barely a few decades to her name. Her lover would be fortunate to make it, bent and worn and gray, to the end of a century. At the end of a century, Minthara would merely be a century older, looking little different than she did now.

But she would be without her lover.

It was pathetic, how much the thought burrowed down into her brain and squirmed there, like that wretched tadpole had once done, whispering old half-truths and prejudices of her time in Menzoberranzan. Old memories that had lain dormant, until now. She recalled the priestess of House Vandree, how she had shared her bed for countless nights, and how she had held her close, whispering comforts in her ear as the poison took over her body.

Poison that had coated Minthara’s lips, transferred with a kiss.

She would not let Menzoberranzan take another lover from her. She would not let blind duty steal the joys of her love for her beloved. She was determined to stand between her lover and every killing blow, to go out first, if at all possible.

But her beloved was human. If Menzoberranzan didn’t take her, time would. 

Time was not something Minthara could stop or silence or stab. But perhaps it was something she could out-scheme.

She had brought up suggestions to her lover in the following days. Vampirism, perhaps—if Astarion could be convinced, after a hundred favors and deals, to make her a full vampire. Or perhaps a dark ritual, some spell that was just out of reach. Perhaps the new God of Ambition would have ideas, or another of their allies would find a solution. They could depart for the astral plane, to live un-aging among the stars.

But her beloved hadn’t shown interest in any of these ideas. “I don’t think I would stay myself if I traveled down that path,” she would say to almost every suggestion. “I promise, I am content.”

But Minthara was not. They had battled against gods and monsters, men and beasts. They had felled dragons together. They had raised armies together and pulled each other from the jaws of death. 

To lose her in war, Minthara could handle. The loss would be great, driving her nearly to madness, and the vengeance greater still, but in vengeance perhaps there would be relief. What vengeance could she take against time?

Once more, poison lingered in her mind. Vials of exquisite, rare poison, glittering gem-like in their crystal bottles. One drop on the lips would be enough. A kiss of death.

Perhaps they ought to go out together, lying side by side, counting their final breaths as their skin cooled and their heartbeats grew slow and faint. Perhaps someone would find them, still lying together. Perhaps in two hundred, three hundred, one thousand years someone would find their bones untouched, the skull of one laying against the ribcage of another.

Obscurity did not seem so terrifying when she thought of the future like that.

The treacherous thought lingered in her mind until at last her lover said something that changed her mind.

“Promise me something, Minthara,” she said, as they lay together in the darkness. “Promise that once I’m gone, you will carry our name for us.”

Minthara sat up. “My love—”

“Swear it,” she said, sitting up too. “An oath, Minthara. That no matter when I die, you will live on. That you will carry our house and burn our name into the annals of history.”

“I will not let you die,” Minthara said, her voice full of rasping pain. “I will find a way—”

“My love,” her beloved said, cradling her cheek. “We all die. I do not fear death. Nor do I fear the ravages of time. I know you do, because I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me. I think you fixate on these gray hairs more than I do.”

Minthara said nothing. There was no defense to make against such a statement.

“Swear an oath to me that no matter when I die—and make no mistake, I hope to live for many years with you at my side—but that when I die you will live on and that you will keep our house and our name alive. For me.”

“I cannot. To face the centuries ahead without you at my side—”

“You can.” Her lover held her face in both hands now, eyes full of tenderness and quiet strength. Confidence and sorrow. Full of love, for her. “You keep asking me how I might prefer immortality. This is how. By you going forward and carrying my name with you. Carve my name—our name—on the pages of history, over the doorframes of your homes, into the very foundations of Menzoberranzan itself. Carry our banners across the continent and establish the empire of your dreams with armies bearing our crest on their armor. Make it so that long after I’m gone, there is not a soul on this earth that doesn’t know our name. That is how I’d prefer immortality.”

Her beloved dropped her hands and faced her fully, sitting on her knees, and held out her hand. “Swear it, my love.”

Minthara stared at her hand. “But the future will be empty without you.”

“Swear it.”

“What use is an empire without its empress?”

Her lover just smiled. “Minthara. Swear.”

Minthara struggled again but finally broke, taking her lover's hand. “I swear it. On my oath, I will not rest until our name is known on every continent.” 

With the oath sinking into her bones, Minthara bent forward, pressing a kiss into her beloved's palm. She lingered there, soaking in the warmth of her skin, the feel of her battled-toughened fingers curling beneath her chin. Her lover raised her face and kissed her, deep and tender, tasting the oath on Minthara’s tongue. Minthara let herself be lost in that kiss, in the fantasy of this moment never ending. When they finally broke for air, it was too soon.

“And now, my love?” Minthara whispered.

“Now we make every day count.”

[sappymix1]

Okay writing prompt -> office au dnf where George is the front desk worker and Dream is in sales and they meetup in the break room and always flirt

hi anon so funny thing it did not occur to me that you meant office au as in the show the office until I turned on the tv earlier today and it was there lmao. but anyway here is 1.3k words of dnfies working for a company that supplies textbooks to high schools lmao

[12:14] 🐈‍⬛: Dream

[12:16] 🐈‍⬛: Hellooooooooo

[12:16] 🐈‍⬛: This is so messed up why are you ignoring me

[12:19] 🐈‍⬛: Dreeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaam

[12:21] 🐈‍⬛: Stop ignoring me, idiot

[12:25] 🐈‍⬛: I’m so bored. I haven’t had to do anything all day. This is so boring.

[12:27] 🐈‍⬛: And now you won’t even text me back. You hate me. 

[12:31] 🐈‍⬛: You should come talk to me so I don’t die of boredom. 

[12:34] 🐈‍⬛: This is me because of you

[12:34] 🐈‍⬛: Ignore the caption

[12:37] 🐈‍⬛: I’m going to start texting Foolish instead of you. I’ll find his number in my computer.

[12:38] 🐈‍⬛: I’m doing it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to find his number and text him asking if he can show me his muscles

-

“Thank you, Ms. French; I’ll make sure that gets worked out for you. Have a good day.” Dream hung up his phone, posture immediately worsening as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to force down the headache that had been brewing since about the third question about the difference in price between the fourth and fifth editions of the biology textbook some forgettable high school in Vermont was attempting to purchase before the new school year began. 

Dream was pretty good at his job, mostly because he was pretty good with the people. He thought he had a good voice, one that made him good at dealing with people over the phone because it prepped them to like him by that alone. He was a bit more awkward in person, yeah – a bit too tall, not quite sure what to do with his arms or his feet – but clients were already endeared to him enough that at that point his slight awkwardness just ended up being charming. That wasn’t the point though; the point was that he was ordinarily really good at phone sales, customer service, that sort of thing. This particular call had just been a bit exhausting. He had barely even passed his own high school biology class; he definitely did not know which text book was the better option even though he had to at least sound like he did. 

Dream glanced over across the office, over to the desk up by the door. His vantage point, unfortunately, wasn’t that great these days. His boss had gotten it into his head that some change of scenery would make everyone more productive as they got deeper into the hot months of summer and, as a result, Dream had traded his desk conveniently within eyeshot of the front desk for one much farther away, and all he could see over, of all things, the fucking broken printer was a little bit of curly dark hair that drifted back and forth in a way that made it obvious that its owner was rocking back and forth in the swivel chair. 

Dream wasn’t quite sure that this rearranging was having the effect on productivity his boss had desired. He reached into his pocket, and he slid out his phone.

His lock screen was covered in a long chain of texts, all coming from a contact saved simply as a familiar emoji. Dream scrolled through them, automatically smiling as his stomach buzzed with strawberries and oranges. Apparently, he was not the only person struggling to focus.

[12:47] me: get better bait. you would text foolish telling him to die before you asked to see him shirtless.

[12:47] me: besides, you’d never do that to tina

Dream went to flip his phone over, not wanting to risk someone noticing that he was off task, but immediately, his phone buzzed with a response. 

[12:48] 🐈‍⬛: What are you doing?

[12:48] me: i was on the phone. 

[12:49] me: lunch?

This time, he didn’t bother putting his phone down, just watched the three little dots indicating someone typing on the other side of their conversation. He realized quickly that he was holding his breath, and he forced himself to let the lingering air leave his lungs. Don’t be stupid. 

When the text came, it was much shorter than the time spent typing it would have implied. Dream could imagine him going back and forth and back and forth, fingers freezing on the same anxiety that both worried and excited Dream. 

[12:50] 🐈‍⬛: Yes

Dream got up from his desk, heading to the break room to get his lunch. Once the door fell shut behind him, cutting off the low buzz of the lights and computers and air conditioning of the main office with a tight thud, he went to the fridge and pulled out the container of sliced up mango and half a sandwich in a baggie. A green sticky note with a smiley face adorned both of them, identifying them as his. He was in the middle of trying to crack the seal on the lid of his drink when he heard the door swing again and quickly felt arms encircle his waist.

“You’re so, like, needy, today,” he said without turning around. “What’s wrong?” Half teasing. Half so sincere that it made both of them squirm a little bit. Dream had always been good at that – caring about people. Especially certain ones. 

“Nothing.” George – the receptionist, the cute British guy in the office, the most important person in Dream’s phone – pressed his face against the back of Dream’s shirt, muffling his voice. “I’m bored. You were ignoring me.” 

Dream scoffed. He set his lunch down on the counter and turned around to face George. George was looking up at him, lips pressed together like he was trying and failing to keep himself from smiling. Failing, both because George wasn’t particularly good at hiding his happiness and because Dream could read his emotions from a single movement of his rich dark eyes. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was working. I spent, like, half an hour stuck on the phone talking about biology textbooks.”

“Wow, poor Dream,” George teased, reaching to open the fridge and find his own lunch – left over chicken nuggets, apparently, as well as a plastic bag filled with apple slices – before settling across from Dream at the table. “Forced to spend all day on the phone, while I’m dying at my desk.” 

A bite of his sandwich. “Dying? Of what?” 

“Boredom and neglect,” George said, sounding extremely put upon. “It’s so messed up that you’re letting your stupid job get in the way of our relationship. Just so that you can, like, have money or whatever.” 

“I can’t believe you’d let Patches go hungry like that.” Dream reached over to steal a sip of George’s peach ice tea, and George just grinned at him before sighing. 

“I guess that’s a good enough reason.” They were both quiet for a few seconds, ankles brushing under the table as George chewed on his apple slices and Dream picked at his mango with a plastic fork from home. It was comfortable, or at least as comfortable as lunch at a tiny breakroom table that was so short that Dream banged his knees against it every time he sat down could be.  It was, arguably, one of the least remarkable days of Dream’s life. Tomorrow, he would put back on his scratchy work clothes and the shoes that pinched his toes, make a million more phone calls to talk about textbooks he couldn’t care less about, and eat another dry sandwich in the shitty breakroom. The same mundanity that he had found, despite the big dreams that he had had growing up, to be his life these days. And, just like he eventually did today, before they threw out their trash and tried to leave the breakroom far enough apart to make it inconspicuous, George would ask if he could come over after work, and everything would feel a little bit more special.

[agardenofbasil]

hiiii can i request "you're a bad liar" with gavi/pedri pleaseee🥺 thank youu

A bit... frisky...

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Sushi. Since we’re at a sushi place.”

Pedri rolls his eyes. “I meant to drink.” They’re seated next to one another at a very fancy sushi bar. The kind that requires several months to get on the reservation list, let alone the reservation in itself. Pedri should know. “Any reason why you’re being extra bratty tonight?” 

Gavi shrugs. 

“Did you want to stay home that badly?”

Gavi sighs. “No.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I’ll take that over being a bad boyfriend. I know you were looking forward to this.”

Pedri can’t help but soften at Gavi’s admittance. Gavi doesn’t always do well in new places, but somehow, he finds the courage to sit through whatever Pedri throws at him. Like upscale Japanese dining when Gavi is perfectly fine with ice cream out of a carton as dinner.

“Can you order me whatever you’re eating?”

“The reservation is for the set menu, love. I don’t know if we can change that.”

Gavi sighs again, leaning back into the seat. “Okay.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? We can go home, too.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll have sparkling water.”

Pedri busies himself with another look through the dinner menu. Technically, it’s an eight to nine course meal, starting with something with chestnuts and ending with lemon basil flavored ice cream, with samplings of fish and wagyu in between. Just looking at the sheet makes Pedri’s mouth water, so much that he has to swallow. Gavi doesn’t always like the really fishy stuff, so he’ll definitely be nabbing-

Something brushes against his ankle, causing Pedri to jerk. “What the-”

Gavi furrows his brow. “Uh. You okay?”

Pedri looks down, but the tablecloth hides his feet. He rubs the toe of his left dress shoe into his right ankle. “Something just tried to grab me.”

“What?”

“I said-” Pedri lowers his voice. “Something just touched my foot.”

Gavi also drops his voice. “Like… a rat?”

Pedri swears. He hates rodents. “I really hope not, considering I’m about to dish out 200 euros for dinner.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Gavi shakes his head. “Maybe you knocked into the table by accident.”

“Yeah…” Pedri shifts in his seat before picking up the menu again.

Then he feels it again. Something tracing up his ankle.

“Fuck!”

Other patrons turn around to stare. Gavi has a hand over his mouth as a waiter rushes over.

“Are you okay, sir?”

Pedri looks at Gavi, who is suddenly so interested in the menu.

“I’m okay,” Pedri stutters out. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you ready for your drink order?”

“Yes,” Gavi cuts in.

Again. Again. This time, crawling up and under his dress pants.

He looks at Gavi.

Gavi smirks. “A sparkling water,” he says innocently, eyes not leaving Pedri’s.

“And you, sir?”

“I… uh…”

Gavi’s foot. It’s Gavi’s foot, slipped out his shoe, and moving up his calf.

“Sir?”

“Water,” Pedri croaks. He clears his throat, then repeats, “Water, please.”

“Be right out, sir. And will you both be choosing our tasting menu?”

Gavi rests his chin on his hand and looks at the waiter. “Can you tell us more about how the chef chose this menu?”

“Yes, sir. The tasting menu is a careful curation of Chef’s Oh’s years of study and devotion to fine Japanese dining. Chef Oh derives her works…”

Pedri can’t hear anything more, though Gavi is, somehow, so interested in the waiter’s speech while stroking his leg. The soft tickle of Gavi’s cotton sock and the very purposeful target of the underside of his calf has Pedri’s face growing warmer by the second.

“And where do your ingredients come from? Because,” Gavi gestures with a laugh. “We’re in Spain, so…”

“There are many markets…”

Pedri’s breathing gets heavy as Gavi discreetly unbuttons his suit jacket and takes it off while he discusses fish with the waiter. Only Gavi could look this good while still being fully clothed. His chest and arms are embellished by his dress shirt, and his tie is just a bit loose around his neck. Gavi’s neck. The same neck that Pedri kissed all last night-

Oh fuck.

“And you really fly in other ingredients?”

Pedri grips the sides of his chair as Gavi’s foot inches up his thigh. He can’t be sure that the tablecloth covers their legs, but any reaction will either result in them getting kicked out or his utter humiliation. Pedri has a feeling that Gavi is perfectly fine with either scenario.

“You know, I think I might need another few minutes to look at your other menu. I think my boyfriend wants the tasting menu, though? Right, Pedri?”

Pedri tries to naturally release the breath he’s been holding, but his response comes out as a squeak: “Yes.”

The waiter stares but bows his head respectfully. “I’ll give you both some more time.”

As soon as he’s out of ear shot, Pedri hisses at Gavi. “What are you doing-”

“Nothing,” Gavi muses, the same innocent look on his face. Though his foot is doing nothing of that nature, still stroking him. “Why do you ask?”

“Gavi,” Pedri groans quietly. “We’re in public.”

“I know,” Gavi says nonchalantly. “I hope you’re a better liar than me.” He pulls his foot away.

Pedri sighs in relief as he straightens himself out. “Do you know what you want?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Meat.”

Pedri groans. “Gavi.”

“Pedri.”

The waiter comes back all too fast. “Have we decided?”

Pedri opens his mouth, and that’s when Gavi strikes: his foot skating up and nudging right between Pedri’s legs.

Pedri slams his hand on the table, causing the waiter and nearly every other patron to jump.

“Sir?!”

“Actually,” Pedri pulls out a black card from his wallet. “Here. We’ll take the check.”

“Check? It’s a 55 euro cancellation fee-”

“I know. But I have to go home.” Pedri’s eyes stay fixated on Gavi, who has a wide grin spreading on his face. “I forgot to feed my pet.”

[dolliepiled]

Is it ok to ask for a fluffy blurb of Seira and Daria from Misolade? :0

{ :0 awe yes ofc i can anon!! }

♡ hisui daria x hoshimi seren fluffy blurb ! ♡

seren's grasp on her girlfriend's waist tightened just slightly, her cheek leaning against daria's shoulder.

the two of them were cuddling in their shared bed, comfortable silence filling the room.

seren let out a soft hum, pressing a kiss to daria's neck. and then her hand, and her cheek. and finally, her lips before peppering her face in love.

daria's giggles sounded the quiet room as her partner kissed her all over, a soft blush creeping over her face and neck. seren grinned cheekily before giving her one last kiss on the forehead.

"i love you sooooo much ria!"

daria giggled once more before kissing seren on the lips this time.

"i love you too, 'ren."