#it is so endearing because he stopped being a lap cat when I am at my pc

[ipcearn]

May you all have a cat that is so determined to lay on you in their quest for cuddles

Ruvik has a habit of half laying on me when I am curled up in bed, it usually starts with a paw on my arm or side - depending on how I am laying

And then some time later he will get up and resettle, like currently his front half is laying on my back, his back half sprawled along my side

A few days ago he tried curling up against the back of my neck - I was laying on my front, half twisted to the side - and he kept sliding off because that made my back be at an angle, and he was so disgruntled about sliding off, he just kept repeating and repeating trying to find the right position so he could lay there (and he did at some point)

[nucleo-bang-tan]

The Uisa's Daughter | Chapter 1v : Her Grief

Pairing/s: Kim Taehyung X Reader, Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Medieval Korea AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

Rating/s: 18+ Mature Themes

Warning/s: Grief and lots of it, King tries to sleep with her, the real Jungkook... And ofcourse, wouldn't be a nucleobangtan fic without shitty ass writing and really bad pacing.

Summary: In the 1700s, the Jeon Dynasty spread all across the Korean peninsula.  Happiness quadrupled with the founder Emperor's presence, or so it seemed. Secrets scattered over the palace in the capital city, Hanseong were known to none except a few.

Chapter Summary: Curiousity did not kill the cat. Atleast not yet.

A/N: Not proofread!!! Please leave comments, I would love to hear from you guys. Critique my writing and tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, really appreciate it.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Teaser Prologue Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The morning sun rose, casting a gentle light on a world that felt colder without your lover. You sat quietly on the window sill, surrounded by memories, each one a bitter reminder of his absence.

The ache in your heart was painful, a silent testament to the love you shared and the deep void his death had left in your life. It had been exactly three weeks since your wedding day, but it felt like an eternity without him. Every day dragged on, the minutes stretching into hours.

You couldn't help but tear up. The syllables 'Taehyung' gave you flashbacks of your bloodied lover. The nights were sleepless and even if you did manage to close your eyes, the flashbacks didn't spare you.

Amidst everything, Yoongi's life was taken because he wanted to protect you. How you unapologetically wished it was your father who was slain.

The emptiness in your heart grew bigger and bigger with each passing moment. Every night, the King would visit your chambers. He hoped that you would give in to his demands, let him use you the way he had hungered for years.

But you never let him. You were always closed off and barely talked to him. He didn't wish to force you but you were surely making it difficult for him. King Jeon knew you never wanted him, but he never stopped pursuing.

"Why are you sad?" An endearing voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You smiled, wiping the tears on your cheeks.

"I just... I lost someone I loved." The little child climbed onto the window sill as well, sitting on your lap.

"I lost someone too, once. But I don't remember anything." He said, slightly frowning.

"Was it the Queen? Your mother?" You patted his fluffy, brown hair.

"How did you know, Y/n? Oh, I'm sorry! Father said I should call you my mother."

"We are barely 12 years apart. I'm more like your sister. You don't have to call me your mother if you don't wish to, Jungkook."

He giggled, "I love it when you call me that!"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Call you what?"

"'Jungkook' of course!" He said, slightly jumping out of happiness in your lap.

You figured not everyone called him by his name, either addressing him as Prince or majesty.

"I'm more than happy to call you by your name, Jungkook."

"Yes! It's my name! I am the great warrior, Jeon Jungkook." You laughed slightly at his excitement. His innocent soul found delight in the littlest of things.

Over the past couple of weeks, little Jungkook had been your source of joy. He had a lot of energy, whenever you didn't feel like getting up, Jungkook forced you to play with him. Unknowingly, it helped you to handle the grief a lot better.

Ofcourse, he was a bit spoiled, being the Prince of an entire country does come with a lot of luxuries. But the kindness and bright nature overtook his spoiled attitude. The kid was the type to throw a tantrum when the chef didn't make his favorite food but then apologize for his behavior in the cutest way possible.

"Oh! I have a letter for you." He said, pulling out an envelope from his hanbok.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "A letter? Did you write it?"

"No, that person told me to give it to you. They got it from your friend." He said.

According to Jungkook, there was a person in the palace worried for your well-being. It was probably a maid who used to work for your father, you thought. You weren't allowed to leave your chambers, so letters were the only mode of communication.

You took the envelope in your hand and carefully opened it. You hoped it was who you thought it was: your childhood friend.

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing this two days after your wedding with the King. But I would imagine it will take a few days to reach you considering all the security. But I was promised by my friend that it'll reach you, no matter what happens, and I trust that.

I cannot fathom the pain that you are enduring. Losing two people in a single day, seeing them lose their light in front of you. I am sorry I couldn't be there. I understand why you hate the King. I am sorry for the times I shushed you when you were speaking ill about him. He isn't kind at all.

Yoongi was a great person and my friend as well. And about Taehyung... I am writing this letter to tell you what he wished you knew. He had kept this in the past but I am sure he meant to tell you this in the time to come.

He was no ordinary farmer. Taehyung used to be an assassin in the royal army. He climbed up ranks as soon as he joined the army. Ofcourse his identity was and is a secret to the mass. He was a brutal man, assassinating whoever wronged the King. He was loyal to the Jeon family.

There were also rumors that wives and women of aristocratic families paid him to sleep with them, and that is how he knew a lot of the secrets of the royals and high class families. The rumors were proved to be true and that made King Jeon furious. He was eventually removed from his position and was sent back.

This is all I know about the matter.

Y/n, how I wish I could be there for you. Your parents have no maids and servants now after what your father did. Although I am trying my best to get work back at the palace to be closer to you, the King is stubborn. He is not taking any chances and his trust in me has dwindled due to your father.

I believe in you. There are talks of a revolution inspired by Taehyung and Yoongi, talks to save you. Until then, I believe you will hold on. My friend at the palace will treat you well.

For now, all I can say is keep safe and do not let the King get to your head. You have seen worse now, have you not?

Do not lose hope.

Love,

Jung Hoseok

You read the letter slowly, each word sinking in. Hoseok’s message was a lifeline, a reminder that you were not alone. He was out there, fighting for you, and there was a glimmer of hope in the talk of revolution. You clutched the letter to your chest, drawing strength from his words.

Jungkook watched you with wide eyes, sensing the importance of the letter. "Is it good news?"

You smiled through your tears, nodding. "Yes, Jungkook. It's good news. Thank you for bringing it to me."

He beamed, his innocent joy a balm to your wounded heart. "I'm glad!"

As you tucked the letter away safely, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You would endure this, for Taehyung, for Yoongi, and for the future Hoseok envisioned. You would not let the King break you.

You remembered Taehyung fighting the palace guards masterfully, his moments were fluid and graceful. He was formidable until that soldier 'defeated' him on King's command.

You remembered Taehyung often telling you a thing or two about the aristocrats and high ranking officials. How the husbands were unfaithful and all the wives could do was sit there with a smile, because if they held any other expression, they would be beaten and bruised. He also mentioned the wives paying men for some satisfaction as their husbands found solace in anyone but them.

You remembered the way he held you whenever he made love to you. His movements reflected clear experience. You never asked him why it was.

He hated the nobility and the privileged yet he slept with wives. You couldn't help but wonder what made him go through with that. King Jeon, who had several affairs, would not remove Taehyung from his post simply because of what he did. There had to be more to that.

"Who is the letter from?" The patiently awaiting Jungkook asked.

"A friend of mine, Hobi. He is the sweetest person there is." You smiled, patting his head, "Thank you for delivering this to me."

"Will you play with me now?" He asked eagerly.

"Do you have a game in mind, little Prince?" You were more than delighted to have Jungkook. He kept you busy and didn't let you think much about the happenings.

"Hide and seek? But your chamber does not have places to hide." He pouted.

"That's alright. We can play something else."

"Can we go play in the courtyard? Father is visiting the kingdom. He won't know of it."

Knowing what the King can do, you didn't want to put Jungkook in trouble. Even if a single soul caught you outside of your chamber, you could face the King's wrath. But you could handle it, the 7 year old could not.

"Jungkook, you know I cannot. Let us play something else, yes?"

"I am the Prince, I promise you father would never know." He said haughtily.

"But you would get into big trouble." You sighed, trying to convince the little boy.

"I have people to protect me, do not worry."

"Against your father? I don't think so, Prince."

He shook his head, "I have people to protect me against anyone in this world."

"Jung-"

"No! You are playing hide and seek with me and I won't hear anymore from you."

You held the Prince's shoulders, trying to stop him from throwing a tantrum, "What if the King hurts you? What will I do then?"

He laughed, "He will be killed before he touches me."

You furrow your eyebrows, who would be foolish enough to kill a man like that? But then again, Jungkook was the future of the Jeon Empire. He must definitely have loyal guards.

"Are you sure about this? If we get caught, you say nothing. I would take the blame on me, alright?"

He nodded, "Yes! I am more than sure."

"Then let us play in the courtyard for an hour or so."

He jumped off of your lap in excitement, almost stumbling and falling. But he caught himself just in time.

"Try and catch me." You said, getting up from the window sill and running outside your chamber.

You knew the palace well enough to navigate through the confusing corridors. Somehow, it was exactly like the recurring dream you have about the non-existent prince and his dog, Bam.

The two of you laughed as you ran through the hallways of the palace. Mindfulness was long forgotten as your voices echoed. Everyone who crossed your paths didn't bother you when they saw the Prince running with you.

"Alright, do you want to hide?" You asked as you both reached the courtyard.

"Yes, but promise you won't peek." He said, clearly having experienced dishonesty while playing this game before.

"I won't, do not worry. I will count to 50, that is enough time for you to hide." He nodded as you closed your eyes and faced a large tree.

Time passed and you played with the child for more than an hour, after which you retired back to your chamber.

You were tired to say the least. Following a bath, you cuddled up to a large cushion, your hair still slightly wet. And as per usual, thoughts flooded your mind. Thoughts which made you cry out in pain.

Every single one of them consisted of your lover. The image of his smile as King Jeon pushed the sword deeper was etched into your brain.

You regretted meeting Taehyung. It was his fault you learned how to dream. It was his fault you dreamt of a better life, a life with just him and you. But it was your fault you held him with you. You were curious what love was, so you held onto him with everything you had.

Love always leads to misfortune. You never believed it existed until you met him. But seeing how the two of you ended, proved to be a constant reminder that it shouldn't exist. Love seemed much better when you thought it was a myth.

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You looked out the window, it was dark outside. You knew who it was and you were ready to do anything to stop him from doing as he wished.

"Today was really tiring." He said, closing the door. You didn't move at all and stayed facing away from him.

You felt the bed dip behind you but you still didn't move. But you did visibly flinch at his touch on your shoulder. His large hand rubbed against your upper arm.

"All of my subjects adore me, tell me, why is it that you tremble at my touch? Perhaps the excitement?" He laughed.

"Stop being delusional." You whispered.

"What was that?" His aged ears did not pick up your words.

"I said, stop being delusional." You said in a firm tone, getting up from the bed and stepping away from it.

The King looked up at you and his laughter grew in volume. He was clearly entertained by your withdrawal.

His laughter seized and his gaze turned dark, "Delusional? My Queen, you are the one deluding yourself. You thought you could live a perfect life with that lad? He used you for money and pleasure."

"Get lost, I plead with you. Do not speak a single word about him. He never wanted me for my money. He was a real man, unlike you." You were agitated by his words. Your voice trembled with anger, yet you tried to keep a strong expression.

He got up from your bed and walked towards you, "You have not given me a chance to prove myself yet, have you now?"

"Leave." You gritted, hands clenched into fists.

His tall and wide frame towered above yours, "Oh, what if I don't, what if I..." He raised his hand to touch your cheek but you swatted it away.

"You are fucking disgusting."

The King turned his head to the side and let out a bitter chuckle. Without a word, he turned around and walked out of your chamber leaving you trembling with fear and anger all over.

Your labored breaths slowed down. You were supposed to hold on till someone rescued you, but he made it increasingly difficult to do so.

You laid on the cold bed. Hatred was boiling inside of you. How you wished Taehyung was there to comfort you, guide you through it all. You were tired but it seemed sleep evaded you.

On nights like these, you always imagined Taehyung was holding you tight and secure. You had never gotten a chance to sleep with him overnight, but your imagination proved to be a good companion.

You sighed, letting your tears fall once again, "I hate you so much for leaving." You whispered to your imaginary Taehyung.

You felt so broken, so cursed. Your own skin felt foreign.

"I suppose I have to hold on... for you."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I am the undefeated Jeon Jungkook." The little child jumped around waving his wooden sword. His energy truly surprised you. Maybe you were just lazy but the boy played from sunrise to sunset and he still wished to play more.

You were sitting on a bench in the courtyard. The cherry blossom trees overhead provided enough shade for you to relax. Jungkook was fighting with the falling pink leaves.

It had been exactly 2 months since your wedding day. Spring had almost come to an end. The Korean Peninsula experienced a monsoon which seemed to be arriving soon considering the wind. You remembered when your father taught you about various seasons across the world. You didn't find the information interesting, always leaning more towards human anatomy and science.

You could see Jungkook's caretaker arriving in a hurry. You weren't afraid of being spotted by her outside of your room, she was the type to scold you for it but would never tell the King. The frail lady was Yoongi’s mother and you could see the resemblance in her cat-like eyes.

It wasn’t long ago when you had first met her. She had approached you with a stoic face, similar to that of Yoongi, but she was the sweetest woman you had met. She introduced herself as Mrs. Min, caretaker of the youngest child of the Jeon family.

Immediately you asked if she knew Yoongi, to which she hesitated to answer. After a bit of coercion, she admitted she was the mother of a traitor. She was ashamed of her son but knew he had his own reasons to rebel. You could tell she loved him dearly. She was taken aback when you embraced her and said that Yoongi was a brave person and fought for what he believed.

"My Prince, my Queen..." The old woman bowed.

You pressed your lips together and gave her a small nod in return, "What is it, Mrs. Min?"

"If I may, Eunuch Kang has requested the little Prince's presence." She said. Her small and wrinkly smile seemed the most trustworthy in the entire palace.

Eunuch Kang, though, always seemed a little too suspicious. Always keeping an eye on everything and everyone, supporting the Emperor's evil deeds and always advising him to do the cruelest thing possible.

"I shall be back Y/n, wait for me." Jungkook said, handing you his sword.

"You must not call her by her name, she is your mother." His caretaker gasped.

"Alright then, I shall be back, mother." Jungkook's tone made you silently laugh a little. He didn't want to call you his mother, but he had to in front of everyone.

You waved with a smile until Jungkook and Mrs.Min were out of sight.

It had been so long since you had been alone with nature. You decided to take a walk barefoot to feel the grass between your toes.

There were all kinds of flowers, trees and herbs in the garden. There was a tiny path amongst the herbs through which you decided to stroll.

You enjoyed the walk until you found yourself in an unfamiliar part of the garden. The palace grounds were vast and intricate, making it easy to lose your way. They were connected to various training areas, lakes and even a forest.

You had no intent to escape, though. Where would you escape to? All you knew was the capital city of Hanseong. Hypothetically, you would have to travel a distance of 150 km to escape the Jeon Empire. Even then, there was no guarantee that the border guards would let you pass.

Your eyes sparkled when you spotted a rare imported herb, saffron. These weren't naturally grown in your country, and this was the first time you saw a saffron plant. You squatted down to get a better look at the delicate flowers.

“You should get a better grip on the sword.” You heard a faint voice from a distance. The person was with someone else, you could tell. Your hands subconsciously touched the flowers as you heard their conversation. Maybe you could find some crucial information, you thought.

“How are you so good with the bow and not the sword, Jimin?” The same voice groaned.

The second person, supposedly Jimin seemed extremely annoyed, “I do not fucking care, I am leaving.”

You were so focused on the conversation, you failed to notice the increasingly clouded sky overhead. The clouds were already full and ready to pour.

You slowly walked to the direction of the voices, mindful not to step on dried leaves. As you drew closer, the figures came into view—a young man, possibly Jimin, and another whose face you couldn't quite see.

Quickly, you ducked behind a nearby tree, peering out cautiously. The branches provided a decent cover, allowing you to observe without being noticed.

Jimin was visibly frustrated, pacing back and forth, while the other person, a taller, stern-looking man, tried to reason with him. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves, but you remained perfectly still, straining to catch every word.

Your breath caught as the man turned around, revealing his face and his topless torso. His toned muscles glistened with sweat under the clouded sky. He held a sword with effortless grace, the weapon gleaming in the dim light.

You couldn't help but admire his chiseled features and strong arms, a testament to years of rigorous training. His strong jawline moved as he spoke to Jimin. His dark, obsidian hair fell in damp strands over his forehead, and his doe eyes, which reminded you of the little Prince, were focused on his comrade, a mix of frustration and concern evident in his gaze.

You tore your eyes away, feeling your cheeks warm. But curiosity killed the cat, and you were much like one. Your curiousity always led to trouble, you knew it. It was best to leave, you thought.

The downpour was relentless, you tried your best to see ahead. The smell of fresh rain filled your senses. The entire garden turned into a muddy mess not long after. You needed to find shelter, the trees weren't much help.

However, in your hurry, you slipped, and fell knee first on the ground, letting out a squeal. Not your best moments, you could say. Great, your hanbok was dirty, you were drenched and lost, and now you were probably bleeding.

“Fuck, what are you doing here?” A voice called out, concerned yet surprised. And now you were caught.

You looked up to see the topless soldier from earlier, his eyes wide with alarm. Before you could say anything, he swiftly picked you up, one hand under your knees and one around your back. You gasped, instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck for support.

“We need to get you out of this rain.” He yelled over the loud thrumming of rain. He carried you as if you weighed nothing. He moved quickly through the muddy garden, his steps confident and sure despite the slippery ground. Within moments, he reached a nearby stable.

He was barely panting as he let you down on your feet. You could sense him staring at you with his round eyes as you shivered due to the awfully cool climate. His presence, though casual, brought a strange sense of comfort amid the chaos.

"Who are you?" You looked at his drenched form, mirroring yours. The only thing that differed was his bare torso. A sudden realization made fear shoot through every nerve of your body. He seemed to be a commander of higher rank and you just made him save your clumsy self from the rain. What if he tells the emperor? You could be put to death for just being here.

"I am sorry but you need to be more aware of your surroundings." He said trying to sound nonchalant. He could see the fear in your eyes but chose to ignore it. Did he scare you?

"I-I'll keep that in mind." You bowed fervently.

"Jungkook..."

"What?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"I am Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook." Prince Jungkook?

You chuckled, “Ofcourse you are.” You rubbed your arms briskly to generate some warmth.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“You are not Prince Jungkook. But you do look like him, I must admit.” You removed the outer coat of your hanbok, the wet clothing being a bit too uncomfortable.

“Why do you think that, my Queen?” He was amused.

“Because, you are not Jungkook. He is the 7 year old Prince of the Jeon Empire.” You pressed.

His amusement reached new levels, “That little kid? You think he is Jeon Jungkook?”

“Yes! Are you jesting me?” You looked at his very, very familiar face. It was as if you had seen him a million times, but you hadn't. Keeping your eyes on him was dangerous territory, yet you couldn't help but continually glance at him.

“I need to have a talk with him.” He laughed.

You raised your eyebrows, “You sure do have some arrogance.” How could a soldier like him stand on equal grounds with the Prince?

“Why is it arrogant to have a talk with my baby brother?” He folded his arms over his chest, biceps flexing as he did so.

“B-Brother? He is surely not-” You had second thoughts, though. His eyes? “Oh, his cousin?” you asked.

He shook his head, “I hope not. We are siblings.”

Surely the man was lying. How did you not know about the existence of another Prince, who could be the heir to the Jeon Empire? But then again, you didn't know the younger Prince existed until a few weeks ago.

You cleared your throat, you were still the Queen, you had superiority, you needn't be afraid, “And your name is?”

“I was not lying when I said I was Jeon Jungkook.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“You are not Jungkook.” Your mind was processing a million things at the moment. If the man in front of you was Jungkook, who was the child you had befriended?

As if he could hear your thoughts, he answered, “I am the heir to the throne, Prince Jungkook. And the kid, he's my brother, Jeon Junghyun.”

[6okuto]

hello i saw you tags and am here to ask you about akaashi i cannot stop thinking about him he is so everything

fun fact his name (akaash) means sky in my language 🫢🫣

THANK U. u get it. also sky that's so cutieful omg? gahhh.. keiji thoughts...

he isn't a very confident person, at least not in high school, and i think watching him become more confident would be endearing and?? attractive?? it's a quiet confidence. he's as kind as always, but he learns to take compliments better, shares his opinions a little easier, gets used to small talk with strangers. with you it means less hesitation before asking if he can kiss you, a satisfied smile when he catches you off-guard with a compliment, rolling his eyes and joking when you teasingly ask if he's jealous.

& you'd be a huge factor in this!! whether it's him catching you staring as he rolls up his sleeves, or calling him hot when he combs his fingers through his hair and stretches. he isn't used to being called hot especially. like, pretty or handsome or good-looking, sure, but hot? keiji's never really seen himself that way. he gets flustered, but subconsciously relaxes and stands a little taller when you shoot heart eyes his way :-(

advice/comfort/compliments from akaashi would be very well-thought out and sincere. look at him with bokuto. like he thinks a Lot, about you ten-fold. it's easy to say exactly what you need to hear—he prides himself on knowing you as completely as you know him!! on loving you like you love him!! your imposter syndrome and anxiety will hit and keiji will be there, reminding you of the last time you felt this way and how it turned out alright. he'll tell you no matter what happens, he knows, and you know your passion and worth, and he'll be with you the whole time.

on a lighter note if you said you felt awful and miserable and angry and it was past 9pm he'd quote that thing about never trusting how you feel about life past 9pm, and also ask if you've 1) eaten 2) showered 3) slept. LOL.

!!! miscellaneous akaashi thoughts.... I alwayshave them. alwayndsk...

cat person of course. likes stray cats. he often forgets to bring treats but he feeds them when he remembers.. & meows at them (he looks around nervously because it'd be a little embarrassing if someone heard LOL). when a cat rubs against his leg or purrs he's energized for the rest of the day!

he likes laying his head in your lap while you work. you don't have to talk or anything, he might just take a nap. gets kind of nervous that he's bothering you the first few times though. he's also happy when you lie down on/near him!

i was thinking of photographer!keiji.... him struggling to find inspiration or to take photos he's really proud of.... him seeing u and going ..! and he hates going up to people. it's nerve-wracking and he usually works with nature or close friends.... but you've noticed this pretty guy pacing nearby a couple of times and he's pretty sure if he doesn't approach you he'll regret it forever. GAH!

in a world where i don't ship bokuaka akaashi doesn't date until he's in his 20s at least.. like my self ship world that isn't with bokuaka. god bless my heart. uni au! uni au! uni au!!!

has flipped a coin to see if he should skip class or not. a uni class not high school just for clarification. except he didn't actually have a coin so he had to google Coin flip. was devastated when it told him to go

mm i think timeskip keiji might be a little insecure about his appearance/fitness actually.. being on the volleyball team was an easy way to exercise in hs but he finds himself too busy or tired to go to the gym a lot of the time now :') i think it'd be nice to work out at home or go on walks together... also reassuring him and showering him with compliments and seeing his face turn red ☹️ my keiji.....

keiji will push around the shopping cart for you if you're shopping and fold the clothes you're getting for sure while he waits Just because. has definitely found a few of your favourite things ever...he denies his thrifting luck but He has it

gets embarrassed and tries to stop crying while watching a movie. he's sniffling but then you start crying for real and he laughs a little and cries harder too.

touches water and watches it ripple... keiji in the morning... still so sleepy... messy hair... shirt lifted so u can see his stomach... him humming or mumbling responses while he stays curled into ur side... furrowing his brows and groaning and holding onto u when u try to get up.. my chesthurts. WHY

not keiji. my bad. but This bokuaka comic has genuinely changed my life and even if you don't gaf about bokuaka you should read it for me. please. please. i need you to gaf about bkak for me for a minute. sometimes i go NIA SHOCK as a reaction because of it

[dwaeki]

— felix as ur bf (random headcanons)

pairing: felix x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none other than maybe some slip ups and just poorly written fluff, not proofread, lower case intended!!!

a/n: i'm just bored and need to post so i decided to make this at like 3AM 😩🤝🏻 genuinely dont knownwhat i was writing here but i went with the flow so 😞

ok lets completely disregard the fact that felix is my ult and i am absolutely whipped for him.

he doesn't sleep early at night especially if he had a bad day at practice or made a lot of mistakes while trying to memorize the choreography to one of their new songs,

so he usually stays up for a little while playing video games on his PC while you sleep over at the dorms.

you're most likely there sitting on his lap, sleeping peacefully while your boyfriend tries to restrain himself from raging and absolutely destroying his expensive keyboard </3

(p.s he has a keyboard that lights up. most likely rainbow cuz idk HE GIVES OFF THOSE VIBES.)

the first time you sat on his lap while he was playing games he just fell in love with that idea

the feeling of your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you rest your head in the crook of his neck is just :(( y/n ure making him feel so loved :((

he's just rlly comfortable and feels at peace.

also when he feels a bit too overwhelmed or just frustrated he stops the game for a little while and wraps his arms around you tightly while inhaling your scent :((

he feels better right away <33

but you dont know that bcuz ure ✨asleep✨

but if he's feeling particularly tired he just plays on his phone

while you're both in bed, cuddling <33

PLUSHIES !! you guys collect a bunch of plushies <3

he likes plushies a lot so if u like plushies too you guys are just a perfect duo. you two are always on a look out for stuffed animals,

felix keeps a bunch of cents in his pockets just in case u find something.

if one of u spots a claw machine outside while you're going out or during an arcade date you're going to drop whatever you were doing before and literally run, leap, fly towards its direction.

"Y/N A CLAW MACHINE !!!!" "OH MY GOD GOGOOGOGO RUN FELIX GO DONT LET THE KID GET THERE BEFORE WE DO"

you two are competitive as hell when it comes to winning a stuffed animal & believe me felix doesnt go easy on you

especially if youre a sour loser cuz he teases you a lot.

it starts off with u two being competitive but ends with the both of you basically throwing all of your money away just to get a single plushie.

one time u hogged the claw machine for a little too long and you didnt even notice the line of kids waiting for the two of u to finally leave for good.

yeah... ure banned from using the claw machine at one of the arcades ... 😬✋🏻

he also lays his head on your lap... a lot.

he just loves feeling close to you so if he's sleepy and wants cuddles he usually just lays his head on your thighs (no matter the shape or size cuz we love all kinds of thighs here, love <3) , grabs your hand and plays with ur fingers.

you already get the message so you're quick to get up and move to the bedroom to cuddle

but if you don't get the message then he starts pouting and sighing dramatically, waiting for u to take the hint

but if ure still not budging then he just lifts you up and quite literally throws you onto the bed so you two can cuddle

(one time u bounced off the bed and hurt your arm... felix almost cried...)

he grumbles a bunch of incoherent words while getting under the covers

squeezes the living soul out of you the second he's under the covers. like ure literally left soulless.

HE'S LITERALLY A HUMAN HEATER SO BEWARE WHEN U CUDDLE IN THE SUMMER !!!

felix doesnt rlly have a favorite position to cuddle in, he likes any and every.

he loves being the big spoon, he loves being the small spoon

but he also rlly loves cuddling face-to-face <33 or maybe ur head buried in his chest :((

loves placing kithes all over your face or pecking your lips during cuddle sessions.

yeah... he's a sucker for physical contact 😚😚

he's also SO whipped for you you don't even understand.

everyone around him can tell that he absolutely adores you and everything you do

one time jeongin mentioned how utterly in love he was and how "disgusting & painful" it was to watch you two interact 😔

and felix was low-key like HELL YEAH IM WHIPPED AND IM PROUD !!!

doesnt care if anyone points out how much he loves u & doesn't deny it either bcuz YEAH!! HE DOES INDEED LOVE U VERY MUCH!!! WHAT ABOUT IT!?!?!!

he also gives the best presents !

he just always knows what to buy anyone he's very close with and the list ofc includes you :D bcuz youre his lover mwuah <3

buys you the best birthday presents, anniversary presents, holiday presents.

it's because he's observant !!

especially when it comes to you. if you eye an expensive outfit that you can't really afford at the moment or there's a fancy restaurant you want to go to, he will keep it in the back of his mind and will take it into consideration ;))

there doesn't have to be a special occurance for felix to surprise you with a present !!

even if the present he's getting you is pretty expensive its still for u and he wants to make u feel as appreciated and as loved as he can. so wasting money on you is never a problem as long as you're happy :((

the fact that he is observant also comes in handy a lot, because he can tell when you're uncomfortable by the small changes in the way you act like the furrowing of your eyebrows or you shift even closer to him, etc.

if it's a public space or an event where you have to socialize and interact with others and he notices you feeling uncomfortable he will take you to a less crowded place to give u a bunch of kisses and reassure you that everything will be just fine <3

he also knows what you like and dislike very well, so it's easier to avoid any arguments in your relationship.

virtual dates !!

he takes you on a bunch of dates on minecraft, roblox, animal crossing etc.

the dates usually happen while he's away on a tour and you two really miss each other </3

the first time he went on a tour he just really really really missed you and your voice

so he called you on discord and suggested that you play minecraft together. you created a new world and just started everything from the scratch.

so every time felix goes on tour you guys call on discord, get on minecraft and add new things to your world <33

your world includes but is not limited to: a huge pink mansion with a pretty backyard filled with flowers, a dog named "seungmo" and a cat named "lino" (as felix suggested you named them ✋🏻)

he once told you that one day you two are gonna get married (if you're willing to ofc) and live a perfect life just like in your minecraft world :((

even tho it was over the top to assume that you two would live in a gigantic pink mansion, it was still endearing and it made your heart melt <3

he really wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he knows you're the one :(

[whereistheonepiece]

Missing You

Quick summary: Sanji misses Zoro.

Note: I haven’t outright stated it before, but my collection of short Zosan oneshots is connected to my fic “To Run.” This one makes a few references to it.

-

Sanji woke up to the feeling of Zoro’s lips on the corner of his mouth. His eyes flitted open and his lips curved upward in a groggy smile as he took in the sight of Zoro, partially hovering over him in bed, smiling down at him. Sanji made an amused sound in the back of his throat, laying a hand on his love’s bicep. 

“Hi,” Sanji said, his voice still thick with sleep. Sanji wound his arms around Zoro’s solid, warm torso, and pulled him down so Zoro lay on top of him. He chuckled softly as they both repositioned themselves to be more comfortable. “Morning breath,” Sanji whispered, putting his palm in Zoro’s face and pushing him back when Zoro leaned in for yet another kiss.

Sanji let out a small, undignified yelp in surprise when Zoro’s tongued darted out of his mouth and pushed between the gaps between Sanji’s fingers, poking out at Sanji in defiance. Zoro’s grin grew as Sanji withdrew his hand from his face.

“Child,” Sanji said accusingly.

“You had to know getting licked was a possibility when you put your hand there,” Zoro, incorrigible as ever, shot back.

“Actually, I thought you might just bite me like the savage you are,” Sanji said, staring up at Zoro with partially closed eyes.

“And that wouldn’t have bothered you?”

“No, because I was expecting it.”

Zoro snorted, rolling his eyes. “Dumbass,” he said, the playfulness in his voice turning the old insult into a term of endearment.

“Barbarian,” Sanji said in return, grinning to himself when Zoro laid his head on his chest.

“You love me,” Zoro said, more to annoy Sanji than to state the obvious.

“You’re so sure of that,” Sanji said, his voice glib, his fingers soft as he ran them along the path of Zoro’s spine all the way to his head, pushing through the soft green hair.

Contentment rumbled from deep within Zoro’s throat as Sanji played with his hair. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “I am.”

Sanji lifted his head to kiss the top of Zoro’s. If only those who called Zoro the Demon of East Blue could see him now. They’d change their minds quickly if they could see him practically purring like a common house cat at having his hair stroked.

They lay there together, Sanji petting Zoro until his hand grew tired, Zoro lying on Sanji like a living, breathing blanket. Usually Zoro preferred to have Sanji lying on top of him, but Zoro had become somewhat clingier as of late, coming to Sanji for physical affection more frequently than he normally did whenever they had time alone together. 

It had been a bit of an adjustment for both of them when Sanji brought Zoro onto the Baratie. Back when they sailed on Sunny, Zoro could come to Sanji when he was preparing food for the next meal. He would hold onto him like the clingy, affectionate pest that he was. Zoro was less clingy whenever he had Sanji’s full attention, but he’d been receiving less of it lately.

It had been easier to give Zoro his attention back when all Sanji had to worry about was keeping a small crew fed and didn’t have a restaurant and its guests to look after, a staff working under him, or the constant pressure to prove himself worthy as Zeff’s successor. It was even harder to give Zoro his attention when he couldn’t let him hang onto him while he was cooking like he used to. Sanji was sorry that he couldn’t give Zoro that anymore. While he used to tease Zoro for being needy or accuse him of being annoying when Zoro grumbled at him for needing to move around the kitchen while they stood like this, Sanji did enjoy it. It was a nice compromise that kept Zoro happy, and Sanji did enjoy the company and the fact that Zoro wanted to be close to him. But Sanji was a boss now, and it was hard to be taken seriously when he had a grown man hanging off him.

So Zoro found a new way to get Sanji’s attention. He’d observe restaurant activity until there was a lull, and then he’d waltz into the kitchen, grab Sanji by the wrist, and announce, “Break time!”

The other chefs were always overjoyed to see Zoro. Sanji was aware he wasn’t an easy boss, especially if the day was stressful, and Zoro pulling him into the office to kiss him always left him in a better mood. The staff had noticed this, and so they welcomed Zoro in the kitchen, showing their appreciation with booze and a snack whenever he and Sanji came out of the office.

“You’re spoiling him,” Sanji would always chide the chefs, although secretly he was grateful that Zoro and the chefs were on good terms.

But maybe Zoro was growing restless with the way things were on Baratie. Sanji had less days off than he did back when they were part of a pirate crew. There were no more islands to explore, less opportunities for them to have a day all to themselves. So Zoro found more reasons to initiate physical contact with Sanji. He pulled him onto his lap when they sat down together. He grabbed him in his sleep and was always hesitant to let go upon waking. He’d touch him in some small way throughout the day whenever he saw him.

And then came the suggestions. It first started with simply telling Sanji what he should do regarding his work schedule.

“You work too hard, Cook,” Zoro would say. “You should ease up a little.”

“That’s what happens when you run a restaurant, Marimo,” Sanji would retort.

“You should go on vacation,” Zoro said one day, leaning against the wall and staring out the window. His arms were crossed and his stance was relaxed. He spoke as if this had just occurred to him, though Sanji was now starting to suspect it had been on his mind for longer than he’d let on. “Take a break from restaurant life. We can go visit the rest of the crew. Or just go wherever. Doesn’t have to be super far.”

“I don’t have time for a vacation,” Sanji said dismissively. He placed a cigarette between his teeth as he lit up.

“Why not?” Zoro asked, looking at Sanji.

“Who’s gonna run this place with me gone?” Sanji replied.

Zoro blinked. “Zeff. It was his restaurant, originally.”

“Zeff’s worked hard enough for three lifetimes,” Sanji said, waving the idea away with his hand.

“Okay,” Zoro said tensely, sounding as if he was forcing himself to be patient. “Couldn’t your cooks manage without you for a little bit? Some of them’ve been here as long as you.”

Sanji abruptly stopped in the middle of a drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs as he tried and failed to imagine those idiots getting on without him. It was why he still hadn’t gotten around to appointing a sous chef.

He cringed, exhaling sharply through his teeth. “No,” he said firmly.

“You’re just making excuses now, Cook,” Zoro said, his brows pulling down in a scowl.

“What do you want from me, Zoro?” Sanji snapped. “I told you I can’t go on vacation! Can we talk about literally anything else? I don’t have much time left on my break and I’d rather spend it doing something else other than getting pestered by you!”

Zoro grew silent, his scowl easing somewhat, but not going away completely. “You know what?” Zoro said, pushing himself off the wall. He walked past Sanji, his boots treading heavily across the floorboards. “Forget it.”

And Sanji had, at least until now. And he thought Zoro had, too, since he hadn’t brought it up again, though he’d kept his distance during the next few days, leaving Sanji to himself until they retired to their bedroom. Sanji hadn’t said anything, preferring to leave it alone, and now, with Zoro lying on top of him, he felt guilt gnawing away at his heart.

-

“Hey,” Sanji said some time later.

Zoro took time to answer, his breath coming out in a short puff against Sanji’s bare skin. “Yeah?” he said groggily.

“Did you fall back asleep?” Sanji asked.

Zoro groaned, rolling off Sanji and onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling. Sanji rolled onto his side and laid his elbow on the pillow, propping himself up and cradling his head in his hand while he awaited Zoro’s response. “I think I did,” Zoro said.

Sanji smiled. He stared at Zoro, struck by a moment of clarity as the realization that this life, going to sleep with Zoro and waking up next to him each morning, was actually his. Zoro looked at him and caught him staring. He smirked. “Enjoying the view, Curly?”

“Maybe,” Sanji drawled. “You are pretty easy on the eyes, Marimo. Bedhead notwithstanding.”

Zoro rolled his eye at Sanji as he held open his arm invitingly. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked when Sanji didn’t move closer. “Come here already.”

Sanji obliged, laying his head on the junction between Zoro’s shoulder and his chest. Inhaling slowly, Sanji loosely wrapped his arm along Zoro’s stomach, enjoying the quiet stillness of their bedroom on this day off work. Idly rubbing his leg against Zoro’s, Sanji reflected over his decision to close the restaurant one day a week when Zoro had asked him about it. Not only did the rest of the men enjoy the free time, but it gave Sanji and Zoro peace and quiet all to themselves. It may have upset some of their clientele, and Zeff had given him some grief over it, but if it made Zoro happy, then Sanji would gladly deal with a few complaints.

Zoro had his arm around Sanji, rubbing the pad of his thumb against his shoulder. Several minutes passed before Zoro spoke again, and the hesitance in his voice made Sanji pay close attention. “Cook...”

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“What would you say if I told you that Luffy wants to take me with him, Usopp, and Nami on a trip?”

Sanji blinked. They’d spent days, even weeks, apart back when they were searching for the One Piece, including those two years the whole crew had spent apart. In theory, Sanji had no reason to hesitate before answering. But it had been a year since he’d taken Zoro onto the Baratie with him, and they hadn’t spent a night apart since. Sanji had become accustomed to starting and ending his days with Zoro by his side. He found the idea of something disrupting his routine to be daunting.

But he did not voice these thoughts. Instead he said, “How long were you thinking?”

“A few weeks,” Zoro responded. Sanji swallowed. “Maybe a month?”

“Why so long?” Sanji asked.

Sanji felt Zoro shrug. “You can ask Luffy that,” he said. “Something about visiting a few islands before heading back.”

“I see,” Sanji said quietly.

“You didn’t tell me what you think,” Zoro said, his thumb coming to a stop.

Sanji closed his eyes, his thoughts turning to how quiet Zoro had become when Sanji had shot down the idea of the two of them going on a trip together. It wouldn’t kill him to allow Zoro to have some fun with their friends. “I think,” he said, “that I’m going to have to prepare your and the others’ favorite meals before you go.”

-

“All right!” Nami said brightly, looking Zoro up and down. “Got everything you need, Zoro? We’re not turning back once we leave.”

“I made sure he does, Nami-san,” Sanji spoke for Zoro, winking at Nami.

Nami smiled at Sanji, nodding at him. “I know you did, Sanji-kun,” she said, demonstrating her faith in him by turning her attention to the map in her hands as she and the others made the final preparations before they boarded Sunny with Zoro.

Watching her go over the map of the islands she and the others intended on visiting, Sanji felt himself longing for the simplicity of the life he’d shared with his crew. He felt his heart filling up with nostalgia for the days when he and his friends could explore strange islands together, days when they could gather around the same table together and share stories and food. They still occasionally saw each other, but when their crew was scattered around the world, it was difficult to get everyone together at the same time.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, Sanji looked at four of the most important people in his life, and he felt the pull of adventure tugging on his heartstrings.

But he could feel the weight of Baratie and its responsibility all around him.

So Sanji exhaled smoke from his lungs and walked up to Zoro, who had Luffy wrapped around his torso. He held his cigarette between two fingers with one hand and he grabbed Zoro’s face with the other. He pulled him in for a long goodbye kiss, Luffy’s voice in his ear as his former captain tried to convince him to come with them.

-

It was quiet as Sanji got ready for bed. It was often quiet when he and Zoro got ready for bed together, as Zoro was not a loquacious person to begin with, and both had long ago learned to share an easy silence with each other, but this was an empty quiet that Sanji was now unused to.

Sanji stared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, his eyes blank and his jaw stiff, his movements mechanical. He looked at the unoccupied space next to him in the mirror, the beginning of a story about an entitled customer waiting to spring forward from his mouth. If Zoro were with him, Sanji would have pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and, mouth full of foam, started telling him about his encounter with a customer that had insisted on being served a meal that currently wasn’t on the menu. And Zoro would have listened until Sanji popped his brush back into his mouth to finish brushing his teeth. Zoro, in that straight to the point way of his, would have asked him, “So did you kick his ass?”

Air escaped Sanji’s nose in a small burst of amusement at the thought. He pointed his eyes down toward the sink and spat out the toothpaste, wondering if Zoro was keeping up with the nighttime routine they’d established, and therefore brushing his teeth at the same time as Sanji. Rinsing out his mouth, Sanji could feel the weeks without Zoro stretching out before him, opening a chasm between the two of them.

-

Sanji had intended on waiting at least a week before picking up the Transponder Snail to call Zoro. He wanted to give Zoro time to himself with their friends, but also wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t so needy that he couldn’t last a week without hearing Zoro’s voice. After all, Sanji thought as he chopped carrots for the stew he was working on, he’d gone longer without talking to Zoro. Surely Sanji wasn’t that needy, that clingy. Surely he had enough going on with the restaurant to keep him preoccupied. Maybe Zoro would end up calling him first.

But Sanji felt his restlessness steadily rising within him as the days passed. Work was as hectic and demanding as ever, and one of Sanji’s primary releases—taking a break in his office with Zoro—was gone, leaving Sanji trembling with an undercurrent of frustration and pent up aggression throughout the day. He’d tried channeling it into work, tried dealing with it on his own in his and Zoro’s room, and he tried calming his nerves by chain smoking like there was a secret prize at the end of each cigarette, all to no avail.

It was when he tried picking a fight with Carne and Patty that he finally gave in. 

Sanji, at the end of his patience, goaded the longtime staff members into a fight that they could not possibly win. Carne and Patty, to their credit, fought back as valiantly as they could, but they were no match for Sanji. They knew this. Sanji knew. Zeff, who’d been watching from a corner, knew this. 

Zeff had given Sanji one look and jutted his chin toward his former office, silently insisting that they talk. And suddenly Sanji was ten years old again, following Zeff until he came to his senses and took a few quick strides to catch up to Zeff and then move past him on the way to Sanji’s office.

Behind the closed door, Zeff simply told Sanji, “Get your affairs in order, Eggplant. You have no reason to bark at your men like that when they’ve done nothing wrong.”

Sanji had bristled at Zeff and told him to mind his own business, telling him, “Oh, you’re one to talk about lashing out at people when they don’t deserve it!” Privately he knew Zeff was right. However, instead of telling him so, Sanji engaged Zeff in a screaming match until their argument had petered out into little more than red faces and heavy breathing. Zeff had skulked out of the office, remaining silent for the rest of the day. Sanji had come out a short time later, angrily adjusting his tie, daring any one of the chefs in the kitchen to look his way.

Everyone in the kitchen, save Zeff and Sanji, kept their heads down as they worked on their individual tasks, the air thick with tension and their collective unease.

Sanji, walking stiffly back to his station, heard one chef mutter to another, “I miss Zoro.”

Sanji deflated a little at hearing that. Clenching his teeth, Sanji pointedly kept his eyes down as he worked, thinking, I miss Zoro, too.

He called Zoro later that evening.

-

“Cook?”

Sanji smiled at the sound of Zoro’s tinny voice on the other end of the receiver. He’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. “Hi, Marimo,” he said, reclining on their bed. “How’s the ‘adventure’ going?”

“Pretty tame,” Zoro said. “I was just thinking about how much more dangerous East Blue seemed back when we were all starting out. Now it feels downright peaceful.”

Sanji chuckled. Zoro’s assessment of the sea they called home brought back memories of how young they’d been when they’d all started sailing together, back when the odd Sea King was their biggest threat. They really had no clue what they were getting into back then. “How’s Luffy?” he asked.

“He’s having a blast,” Zoro said. “I think all he cares about is getting to sail with his friends again.”

The longing to be out on the open sea with his friends again awakened in Sanji, manifesting itself as a weight in his chest. He imagined himself on Sunny again, preparing lunch for them while Luffy and Usopp fished, Zoro napped in the sun or polished his swords, and Nami read in a lounge chair.

“That’s good,” Sanji said. He lay on his side, grasping the receiver in one hand. He comfortably draped his arm along his middle and drew his knees up slightly, imagining Zoro lying in bed behind him and spooning him, rather than talking to him on a Transponder Snail on another ship. “And you? How are you, Zoro? Not missing me too much, are you?”

“Missing you a regular amount,” Zoro said cheekily. The Snail, on its perch on the bedside table next to Sanji, mimicked the relaxed smile Zoro would wear while enjoying Sanji’s company. The only thing better than seeing the Snail replicate his love’s smile would be to see that smile in person.

“So you do miss me,” Sanji teased.

“Course I do,” Zoro said. “You know I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I know,” Sanji said. He imagined Zoro wrapping an arm around him, right under Sanji’s own. “It’s just nice to hear you say it.”

“I miss you, Cook,” Zoro said for Sanji’s benefit, and it made Sanji melt.

“I miss you, too,” Sanji said softly, hoping the Snail had picked up his voice.

“And what about you, Cook?” Zoro said. “You wanna tell me what happened today?”

Sanji frowned as he thought back to the fight he’d started with Patty and Carne, then the argument he’d had with Zeff. He shrugged into the open air, wondering if the Snail on Zoro’s end was currently mimicking his movements. “Nothing to report. Everything’s the same as usual around here. The men miss you.”

Zoro laughed. “You’re not being too hard on them without me around to help you...ah...relieve your stress, are you?”

Sanji grimaced, covering his face in shame. “Nope,” he said, his voice slightly strained. He made himself yawn, pretending he’d suddenly been overtaken by exhaustion. “Well, I’m pretty tired. I’ll talk to you later, Zoro.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. “Okay. G’night, Cook.”

“Night, Marimo,” Sanji said. “Love you.”

Sanji ended the call before Zoro could respond.

-

While Sanji slowly adjusted to spending his nights alone, it was in the quiet, stolen moments that he most missed Zoro. Finding a patch of sunlight, perfect for napping; stepping out for a smoke when the lunch rush had finished, picturing himself reaching his hand out and threading his fingers through Zoro’s; stepping into his office for a moment of solitude and picturing Zoro sitting at the window seat, inviting Sanji to sit with him.

Sanji decided to go for walk along Baratie’s deck before turning in for the night. He looked up at the moon and brought his cigarette to his lips, his mind on his and Zoro’s conversation earlier that night.

“When do you think you’ll be coming home?”

“Well, I think Nami’s had enough. Luffy’s begged her to let us visit one last island, and then we can go home. So as soon as we’re done with the next one, we’ll be heading home.”

Sanji inhaled deeply, trying to do the math in his head to figure out how much longer until he got to see Zoro again. Zoro and the others had been sailing for a couple of weeks now, but Sanji figured the trip back would be slightly faster since they wouldn’t be stopping at each island they came across. He only had to wait for just a little longer until he could have Zoro by his side again.

He stared up at the full moon, chuckling at himself for how ridiculous he was being. A month was nothing in the grand scheme of things, really. A month was speck of sand on the beach in the rest of his natural life. Just when had he become so soft? When he’d invited Zoro into his life, he supposed, and all the compromises and changes that entailed.

He let his gaze drift across the sky, taking in the map of constellations as familiar to him as the skin on the back of his hand. Was this how Zoro had felt? This yearning for more, this desire to spend more time with someone inaccessible to him? Sanji hoped that he didn’t make Zoro feel as lonely as he currently felt, hoped that the time they did spend together was better than total solitude, but a picture of what Zoro must have felt was beginning to form in Sanji’s head.

Sanji frowned, gaze falling until it landed on the sea. Remorse seized hold of his heart as he remembered all the small ways Zoro had sought Sanji’s touch in recent months, as if trying to squeeze out every last drop of quality time with Sanji in the fleeting minutes that they had. Just a little of Sanji’s time, that was all that Zoro asked of him. A week, at least, to visit a nearby village and spend some quality time together. Was that really so much to ask for? Sanji no longer thought so.

He thought of leaving the restaurant alone for a week. He could let Zeff watch over things, just like he had for so many years, but Sanji still didn’t like the idea of asking him to take over for him just so he could run away with Zoro for a short time. Running a restaurant was hard work and Zeff had more than earned his rest. So that either left one of the chefs onboard or looking for someone new. Sanji was hard on the men, but he knew any one of them was skilled enough to work as head chef, so long as they put in the work. It was just a matter of finding a man with the right personality.

Sanji would tell Zoro this when he saw him again. The idea of finally relinquishing some of his many responsibilities and letting someone else help out was strange, but Sanji had already alienated Zoro to the point of running off on a month long adventure with their captain. He didn’t want to end up losing him. He’d already lost Zoro once and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

-

Sanji jumped on Zoro the moment he stepped foot on Baratie’s deck, tightly wrapping his four limbs around him. One hundred men couldn’t remove Sanji from Zoro if they tried.

Zoro took this in stride, supporting Sanji by the thighs. “Hi, Cook,” he managed to say before Sanji started kissing him.

Luffy hooted somewhere behind Zoro, shouting, “Sanji missed Zoro!”

Aware they had an audience, Sanji pulled back, but he grinned at Zoro, whispering, “Guess you should let me down now.”

Zoro laughed softly, his eye crinkling at the corner in a way that made Sanji’s heart melt into a puddle of mush. “I guess so,” he said, setting Sanji down.

Slipping an arm around Zoro, Sanji called to Luffy, Usopp, and Nami, inviting them onto Baratie for a meal to welcome them all back.

-

Pleasantly exhausted, Sanji relaxed into Zoro’s arms. Content smile etched into his face, Sanji breathed in Zoro’s scent, felt the heat of Zoro’s skin against his cheek. All was right with the world. Zoro lay there in bed with him, happy to share this moment with Sanji.

Sanji laid his hand on Zoro’s abdomen, relishing the solid feel of Zoro’s body beneath his touch. “I missed you,” he whispered.

“Missed you, too, Curly.”

“I don’t think you know how much I missed you, though,” Sanji continued.

“I dunno,” Zoro said, “you just gave me a pretty good idea of how much you missed me.”

Sanji paused before responding, frowning. “I’m serious, you know.”

“Mm?”

“Yeah,” Sanji said. “I...had a lot of time to think while you were gone.”

“That so?”

Sanji nodded against Zoro’s chest. “Yeah, it is. And I think... I think you were right.”

“About what?” Zoro asked.

“It wouldn’t kill me to take a vacation.”

Zoro paused at Sanji’s admission. “Yeah?” he said, his voice soft with uncertainty.

Sanji wrapped his arm around Zoro’s torso, gently squeezing. They hadn’t talked about it in so long, but he remembered that nightmarish time when Zoro was convinced that Sanji didn’t value their relationship. It made his heart ache to think that he could potentially make Zoro feel that way again. “Yeah,” he said.

He continued, “I mean, I still don’t want to dump this all on Zeff. But I really gave it some thought, and it wouldn’t hurt me to have someone who can step up for me when I’m not around. Maybe even make the workload a little easier on me. I don’t know, the idea of it is still so new to me. But I want to make you happy. And if that means I need to find someone who can watch over the restaurant while you and I take a small trip together, then I’ll do it.”

Zoro tightened his hold on Sanji, saying nothing. Sanji returned his embrace with the same fervor, smiling against Zoro’s chest.

“It’s really not too much trouble, is it?” Zoro eventually asked.

“It really isn’t,” Sanji responded. He lifted his head off Zoro’s chest so he could properly look at him. “And I’m sorry for making you think that it was.”

“Come here,” Zoro whispered, having nothing else to say.

And Sanji did, closing the gap between their mouths.

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black @fandomstuffff @boxofteenageideas @losers-club6 @cityofstaars @stillreadingfantasy @slatersbrekker  @xoxo-aclown @alzawas-plug @nuwanda-greaser @swearingsolemnly @-thatgirloverthere-

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7

[soft--dragon]

Roommates

Oh my god they were roommates

Word Count: 1,385

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

First time writing Dream and Sapnap!

*claps hands*

Here we go!!

Dream rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, dropping it back onto his mouse. His computer screen glared back at him in the darkness of his room, even with the brightness lowered all the way down it still hurt his eyes. His headphones hung from his neck, abandoned after George's scream almost gave him a heart attack.

He'd been editing a new video all day and it had progressed well into the evening. The video featured George, Sapnap and Bad, and the four of them were trying to beat minecraft with a mod that kept screwing with them.

It was very chaotic, filled with their screams of outrage from the gameplay. Even Bad had lost his cool and came dangerously close to possibly swearing on stream.

It would've broken the internet if he had.

Because of their volume in this video, Dream was forced to take off his headphones to actually edit without flinching every two seconds. It had gotten to the point of night where everything sounded loud.

A quick glance at the clock made his stomach sink.

2 am

Jesus, was it really that late?

Dream pushed his chair back from the desk, dragging his hands over his face. He really should go to bed, but this video really needed to be finished tonight. He had a bunch of other shit to do tomorrow...

The idea of his task list made him slump further into his chair. His eyes slid closed, moments away from actually falling asleep right then and there.

Patches suddenly leapt up onto his lap making him start and sit up sharply. He hadn't even heard her come in.

She mewled softly, pawing at Dream's hoodie strings. Dream's heart melted at the cat's antics, smiling at her.

"Oh, are you lonely girl?" He gently ran a hand over her head to which Patches purred happily. "Sorry, I'm a bit busy right now, can you go to Sapnap?"

"Go to me for what?"

Dream flinched for probably the hundredth time that night, turning his chair to see Sapnap leaning against the doorframe.

"Patches" Dream motioned to the small cat, "she wants attention."

"Well yeah you've ignored her all day you monster" Sapnap chuckled, stepping into the room.

"What? No I haven't!" Dream argued indignantly.

"Sure" Sapnap scooped Patches up, pleased when she settled quickly into his arms, pressing her face against his affectionately. "See? She loves me more than you now."

"She does not" Dream glared. "She loves me way more than you!"

"Bet" Sapnap deadpanned, scratching the cat's ears.

Dream opened his mouth to argue but a yawn cut off his words. Sapnap's eyebrows dipped in concern.

"You should go to bed."

"Says you" Dream retorted without any heat.

"I was asleep actually, just got up to get some water than I saw your lights were still on.

Dream hummed, spinning lazily in his chair to face the computer again. Sapnap glanced at the video being edited.

"Uh...Dream?"

"Hmm?"

"When did you start this?"

"Ugh, I don't know? Maybe two in the afternoon?"

"Dream did you end up eating anything after breakfast?"

"....No."

"Jesus christ" Sapnap sighed. "I swear, you're worse than me sometimes."

"I take offense to that."

"Good."

Sapnap gently set Patches down and tugged Dream's chair away from the desk.

"Hey..." Dream protested weakly.

Sapnap stood in front of the desk. "Right, bed, now."

Dream blinked at his friend, his brain trying to understand what Sapnap was saying. When it finally clicked, Dream pointed at him, head tipping to the side. "Uhhh...no."

"Dream, you're clearly exhausted, it took you almost a full minute just to respond to that" Sapnap told him, "you're going to bed."

"What if I don't want to?" Dream asked, a smile starting to pull at his lips.

Sapnap sighed. Right. He forgot. When Dream gets tired, he turns into a childish goofball. It's really endearing, but Sapnap was tired too. He couldn't be bothered dealing with Dream like this, at this hour.

"Dream," he kept his voice gentle and light, like he was talking to a child. "You got to go to bed cause if you don't, I'm gonna do something extreme."

Dream giggled quietly. "Murder isn't allowed under this roof Sap."

"I'm aware, you told me that when we moved in" Sapnap rolled his eyes.

"And neither is arson."

"Also aware, thank you."

Dream gave a lazy salute and Sapnap sighed, wondering how to convince the workaholic in front of him to actually go to sleep.

Seeing Sapnap wasn't moving away from his desk, Dream started doing an impression of Ranboo. Spinning in his chair, head tipped back to watch the ceiling.

Sapnap leant against Dream's desk, thinking hard. Tons of different ideas popped up in his mind but none of them would work on Dream.

Then one idea in particular stuck out and he considered it.

It may not work...but it was the last one he had.

He looked back at Dream who was still spinning. He nabbed the back of the chair, forcing it to stop. Dream jolted upon his spinning being abruptly halted.

"Hey, I was having fun" he glared at Sapnap, blinking rapidly to clear his dizziness.

"Dream, this is your final warning" Sapnap said firmly, "go to sleep or face the consequences."

Dream processed that then stuck out his tongue at Sapnap.

Sapnap cracked his knuckles. "Alright, you asked for this."

He went round the back of Dream's chair, the older boy watching curiously. Sapnap prodded Dream's sides making him flinch.

"Hehehey!" He protested, smacking Sapnap's hand away. "Don't do that!"

"So you are ticklish then?" Sapnap grinned.

Dream opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Without warning, Sapnap latched onto his sides.

Dream gave a loud yelp and instantly tried to scramble away, but Sapnap hooked an arm around his shoulders and yanked him back. Dream's exhaustion made it easy to trap him against the chair.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sapnap asked slyly, tazering Dream's sides and ribs at random to keep him guessing and giggling.

"Sahahapnahahap! Hahahang ohohon-!"

"Nope, I'm tired, you're exhausted, deal with it" Sapnap replied shortly, dropping his hand to scratch mercilessly at Dream's belly.

"Nohohohoho!" Dream wheezed, sliding down the chair in hopes of escaping the torture. He only sealed his fate. His hoodie rode up and Sapnap went for the kill, his fingers spidering along the exposed, pale skin.

Dream's laughter went silent before he squeaked and burst into hysterical cackling. "FUHUHUCK! SAPNAP!"

"You did this to yourself ya know Dream" Sapnap said calmly, "if you went to bed like I asked then you wouldn't be in this situation."

"YOHOHOU MOHOHOTHER FUCKER! STOHOHOHOP!"

"You know, just for that insult I'm gonna make this worse."

Sapnap dipped down to blow a raspberry on Dream's neck making the older boy squeal and duck his head away. Sapnap chuckled to himself at Dream's reaction and did it again and again, and again. Dream whole body was shaking with his frantic laughter, trying his damnedest to twist away from Sapnap.

"WahAHAHIT! Nohohot raspberries! Sahahapnahap plehehease! Mercy! Mehehercy!"

Sapnap hand slowed until he was just gently tracing shapes on Dream's stomach to keep him giggling. "Gonna go to bed now?"

Dream nodded weakly, slumping back into his chair and resigning himself to his fate.

Sapnap stopped, moving back round to the computer and shutting it off. (After saving the work of course.)

"You can keep editing after getting at least seven hours of sleep" he said sternly, "gimmie your hands."

Dream tiredly lifted them and Sapnap pulled him up by his wrists. Dream practically collapsed onto Sapnap's chest, exhausted. Tugging Dream's arm over his shoulders, Sapnap lead him to his bed.

"Sit."

Dream obeyed, eyes slipping closed. Sapnap pulled the bedsheets back and carefully lowered Dream's head onto the pillow.

"I'll see you in the morning alright?" Sapnap said, moving the duvet over Dream.

"'kay...."

"Okay" Sapnap nodded, "good night."

"Mhmm."

Patches quickly made herself comfortable by Dream's head, purring softly. Sapnap rolled his eyes and took a photo. He shut the door quietly and moved back to his room.

This roommates thing was gonna get so much better when they got George to move in. He was the eldest, he could take over parent duty instead.

[eulafan420]

oughhfdjfbds i live for your lee xiao stuff so maybe 12 or 28 (whichever you prefer ndjjdsn) with xiaoven and lee xiao?? only if you want to of course aaaa

a/n: HEY GIRLIE..... writing this literally made me go nuts dont look at me im so in love with xiao it’s embarrassing

prompts:

12. “Why are you holding back? Laugh!”

28. “Sorry, I forgot how ticklish you are.”

word count: 1.3k (under the cut)

“Xiao, c’monnn! I was only teasing,” Venti yelled, a slight pout on his face as he watched Xiao continue to walk away from him. He was aware that his energy could be a bit much sometimes, especially for someone like Xiao who had almost no relationship experience when the two confessed their feelings, but still... Upon realising that his apologies were getting him nowhere, Venti thrust himself a few feet ahead of his partner on a wind current, folding his arms to block Xiao’s path.

“Xiaoooo... I know I shouldn’t have done it, I’m sorryyy! It’s just- you act really cute whenever I hug or even touch you, but I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable, I mean it. I know you’re not a huge fan of PDA.” The Anemo Archon trailed off, twiddling his thumbs like a cartoon character caught in the middle of a crime.

Xiao flinched, coughing sharply behind his hand to distract from the the light pink hue overtaking his cheeks. “Barbatos, what have I said about you calling me cu-... that?” He huffs quietly, glaring at the man stood before him. He quickly averted his gaze at the sight of Venti’s puppy eyes, choosing to focus on a patch of flowers nearby instead.

“Nooo! Don’t start calling me Barbatos again, I already said I was sorry!” Venti whined, latching onto one of Xiao’s sleeves and making a show of wiping his faux tears on it. He giggled playfully when Xiao pulled his arm back in disgust, trying to wipe away the wet patch on his usually pristine vest.

“Besides, you do get all cute whenever I try show you any affection! Just yesterday, you yelped and jumped about 3 foot in the air because I poked you to get your attention. I know that I sometimes forget how ticklish you are, and I admit that maaay be my fault, but you can’t say that wasn’t at least the slightest bit endearing.”

Xiao tensed up at the memory, a shiver making it’s way up his spine as he furrowed his brows. “It wasn’t,” he said, though he still refused to look his partner in the eye’s.

Looking back on it, Venti was aware he should’ve quit while he was ahead. Xiao had a short temper, and Venti’s wallet was far too dry for him to buy the Adepti more bowls of Almond Tofu as a peace offering. But still, Venti wouldn’t be a very good bard if he kept all of his quick-wittedness and sharp tongued retorts to himself, would he?

“Oh my god, you’re blushing. That’s precious.” He giggled, reaching up to brush his thumbs across the warmth of Xiao’s face.

“I am not!” Xiao hissed, taking a step backwards and embarrassing himself further when he had to steady himself, having tripped over a small rock that he hadn’t noticed just moments before.

“You totally are- ahhh! Xiao- oof!” Venti gasped, finding himself lying flat on his back with Xiao straddling his waist, the Adepti’s hands grasping at the grass surrounding the sides of the bard’s head. “That could’ve hurt, you know!” Venti frowned, bottom lip jutted out comically.

“You fell on grass, there’s no way that wo- stop changing the subject!” Xiao growls, leaning down so he was nose-to-nose with his partner.

“Your eyes are really beautiful from down here.”

Xiao glared down at the bard, fists clenching. “I’m not cute, not beautiful, so stop saying it- oh...” He looked down, his face turning almost as red as a strawberry as he realised the position they were in. He had meant to get his point across, not stra- Well, not whatever this was.

“Aww, cat got your tongue, love?” Venti cooed. It was mean, he knew it was- but not taking advantage of how flustered Xiao was would surely be a lot meaner, he concluded.

‘L-love?!’ The pet name echoed in Xiao’s head, and he let out a quiet noise akin to a whine, making Venti swoon. He squirmed in embarrassment as he felt a pair of hands creep up to his sides, their thumbs trailing back and forth in a way that only Venti knew could get to him.

“You have to use your words, Xiao. What was it you were trying to say, hmm?” Venti smirked, his tone sickeningly sweet as he watched the other struggle to stay still.

“Barba- Venti! Mmh-hhah...! Quit it! Let me speak,” Xiao managed to get out through his huffs, biting his lip in an attempt to hold back the laughter bubbling up in his throat. “Mmh-hmm-hm! Nooo- this isn’t fahair...!”

Venti hummed contentedly, rolling his eyes. “You could just get off of me, you know? I’m not gonna chase y-“

“No!”

“Ouch, cutting me off was rude,” the bard pouted. “Suit yourself, though.” And with that, Venti raised his legs to better support Xiao’s back, noticing that he was struggling to balance. Thumbs were suddenly replaced with 5 nails on each side, gently scribbling up and down.

Xiao positively squealed, slapping a hand over his mouth to try and muffle the sounds, the other flying down to grab handfuls of grass to anchor himself.

Venti wasn’t too surprised, really. Xiao had always been a stubborn one, and it usually took a lot of persistence to crack him. But sitting in Venti’s lap, laughing? No, giggling, and hardly making a move to escape? That was new. He wasn’t complaining though, and as his nails wormed their way into his partner’s exposed underarms, scribbling playfully at the skin, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

A shrill squeak filled the air, and the poor Adepti squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, refusing to give Venti the satisfaction of seeing the pleading look behind his eyelids. “Ple-eehe- mmh-hmmm! Not there, ahh!”

As precious as this was, the bard did want to hear some proper laughter. It’d only be fair, after all. “Why are you holding back, my love? You’re allowed to laugh, you know.”

And laugh he did.

The teasing lilt to the bard’s voice finally broke through Xiao’s resolve, and a wave of panicked giggles spilled from his lips as he squirmed from left to right, shaking his head. “Nooohoho- ahh! Ventieehee, it’s not fair, ahaha!” Xiao half-squealed, half-growled, his legs shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright. “I caha- no! No no noooo! Not thehere, pleaaase!”

“Not where, hmm? Venti cooed softly. “Right heeeere?” He made a point of flexing his fingers in Xiao’s underarms, being rewarded with an adorable cackle and a frantic nod. “Just lift your arms, I can’t do much if I’m trapped-“

Xiao frantically raised his arms, finding it almost impossible to feel embarrassed about how easy it was for his partner to get him to do just about anything in this state. He just needed Venti’s nails out of there. His relief was cut short as he felt the tickling return tenfold, helpless cackles bursting out of his chest like fireworks, leaning down to bury his red face in Venti’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t lying though, Xiao. You do look really beautiful from down here.” Venti mumbled, mostly to himself, unable to take his eyes off the squirming man in his lap. His hair was strewn all over the place, mouth wide open as giggles flowed out of him like honey, the grin on his face making the bard’s heart do cartwheels. It had been a while since he’d heard Xiao laugh like this, and he hoped to savour it for just a little while longer.

All good things must come to an end, of course, and Venti stopped his attack mere moments later, having noticed tiny tears pricking at the corners of Xiao’s eyes. He watched thoughtfully as his partner came down from his giggle-high, a smile tugging at his lips when Xiao finally calmed down enough to rub away the lingering sensations on his sides.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for. I didn’t mean to go so far,” Venti said, an apologetic expression on his face. He carefully propped himself up on his arms, using surrounding rocks for support as he sat up. The bard pressed a quick kiss to Xiao’s pink cheeks, and as he finally made a move to stand up, his partner spoke. So quietly that Venti couldn’t hear him, in fact. “What was that, dearest?”

Xiao placed a hand on Venti’s chest, swallowing thickly as he gently shoved the bard back down into the grass.

“You- you didn’t have to stop...

[shadowturtlesstuff]

Mine

so i did another fic, based on mine by Taylor swift. Two fics in one day,crazy, but I haven’t posted in so long and I missed cressworth.

I rush down the stairs, wincing at the pain in my leg but I ignore it. I need air, I need to get out even if it is 2:30 am and potentially dangerous for me to roam the streets. Thomas shouts my name but I ignore him. I block out his voice as I fling open the door and exit, cool air immediately cooling me. 

My life consists of unknown variables, a constant state of unknown except Thomas and my family. However, it seems now Thomas may be out of the equation. My stomach churns with nausea, the only thought pounding in my head is how much I hate this. We don't fight, we discuss, debate, but never fight. Yet, here we are, me storming along, Thomas doing whatever. It is absurd, that even mad at him, he is the person i want to go to to let my feelings out, I want him to hold me tight and tell me it will be okay. Yet, that can’t happen if he is the reason I feel this way. 

Tears stain my cheeks, I wipe them away furiously as I stop walking and lean on the bridge. I must have been walking for at least ten minutes if I've reached the river. The cold now bites at my skin but I can't seem to care about it. My leg throbs, bringing another set of tears. I hurt all over but it does not compare to my heart.

Thomas made me the promise, vowed, to not cage me in this marriage, to not control me but that is exactly what he has done. I watch the water, my breathing returning to normal slowly. The silence around me settles me, letting my mind calm itself enough to think. I need to think with my head and not my heart. Thomas has his reasons for being an ass, but surely he would have thought this through. He would have realised how his words are a cage closing me, trapping me. Breaking me just like his promises. My head drops into my hands, I run my hand through my hair, tangled by the wind and my haste to be alone. What are we going to do? How can I look at him again without thinking about this, about him holding a key, always ready to lock me away? 

“Audrey Rose!” Thomas shouts and I jump up. He slows his run and stops next to me, keeping a distance we have not needed before. I so desperately want to close the distance and forget about this but I can't. Thomas is panting hard, his hands grip the wall and his other reaches out, handing me my cane. We both stare at it for a second. Of course he would think to bring it, even fighting he is a gentleman. 

No, if he was a real gentleman we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

I take the cane from him, leaning heavily on it. I can see relief flood his face slightly, but he turns and faces the water, his head dropping in his hands just like mine had. I hear him curse, he is still out of breath. I wait, having nothing to say to him. Instead I try to focus on the water, the waves lapping over each other, and trying to ignore my pounding heart.

“Audrey Rose,” he says, coming back up and facing me. He is pale, hair dishevelled but his breathing has evened out. I hate that his dishevelled state is my favourite. Thomas always seems put together, never anything out of place, and even though I know that is not true, that his mind is constantly messy like mine, it is hard to believe sometimes. So seeing him like this reminds me of the fact he is not perfect. “I- I don’t know where to start.” he mutters the last to himself. An apology would be good, but i don’t say anything, i let him sort through his mind. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. It takes me by surprise. I expected an argument, for him to tell me how stupid it was to storm out here, or an apology, backtracking his thoughts. I glance at him for a second, his gaze keeps flicking to my leg, to the fact I am leaning on the cane so much. “You’re shivering,” he states, he observes me like he would if we were looking at a body, or the crime scene. Working out everything that is wrong and how to help it. He is thinking with his mind as I should be doing yet I can't. 

“Yes,” I lied and he knew it. He takes off his jacket, the one he threw on the edge of our bed earlier today. He holds it out to me, giving me the choice to take it. I release this as a part of his apology, knowing that I would notice the fact this is a choice and be thankful for it rather than him placing it on me as he would normally do if i wasn’t mad at him. So I take the jacket and place it around my shoulders. I am tired, I want to be in bed, settled under Thomas's arm, stealing his warmth as he kisses me and tells me how enamoured he is with me. I don't want to fight any more, or be angry. If Thomas is trying to mend this bridge, so can I. I take a small step closer to him, he notices and gives me a small smile. It is gone before I can truly cherish it. 

He clears his throat and looks back at the water. “I'm a fool.”

“Agreed.” 

“I overstepped, I didn't articulate what I was thinking and I got caught up in it all- I- this case is dangerous and it seemed like a bad plan.” his eyes find my leg again and memories of Eurita come flooding back. “My love, the last thing I want, any of us want, is you getting hurt again. Or worse.”

I close the distance and lean on the wall alongside him, letting the silence, his words, fill me. I knew Thomas would tell me the plan was risky, but I couldn't think of anything else.

“We’ve both come a long way since the boat ride, Thomas. The plan may be dangerous, but every plan we have will put us in danger, we hunt killers. I don’t like this either, but we can go through it more, unlike how we handle Eurita.”

“I still don’t think it is the only way.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can cage me, trap me and prevent me from helping.” 

He looks up at me, regret framing his face. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” I rest my head on his shoulders and he takes my hand. We stare at the water, both of us lost in thought. When I came up with the plan, I was sure it was the only way, but I was also sure Thomas would add his input, tell me things I hadn't noticed in order to make the plan better, not just stop me from doing anything. 

“Let's go home before we both catch hypothermia. We can discuss it in the morning with your uncle. I never meant for you to feel caged it just- I just remembered what happened on the boat, you said the same things, how it was the only way, and I thought, I thought somehow this would go wrong. I can’t lose you Wadsworth. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.”  

“I can’t lose you, I didn’t explain it well either. I don’t see any other option.” his words fill me, calming me as much as the river had. I smile at the fact he called me Wadsworth. He rarely says it, often saying it from habit or when teasing me. 

We stand and Thomas's hand immediately wraps around my waist, taking my weight to help support me. My leg aches and I am sure Thomas will make us stay in bed longer than necessary so I can rest more. Normally I'd complain and get up anyway, but looking at Thomas, his tired eyes and shivering state, I think it's best if we do rest. Running out into the cold night was not my best choice. At the time it felt like my only choice, I had to get out and put distance from him but it was not my only option. Perhaps my plan is one of many and there is another way around it. A safer way that puts neither of us in danger. 

We walk back slowly. Sir Isaac is waiting at the door when we enter, and begin circling us. Thomas picks him up and nudges his head against his, scratching behind his ears. Calming the cat. I put my cane against the wall and make the trek up the stairs, Thomas and sir Isaac behind me. Thomas sets him down at the top of the stairs and he darts into our room and I feel Thomas's arm fold under mine, gently tugging me close. “Thank you for coming after me.”

“Always. I hadn't realised you were going to leave till the door slammed, I panicked and knew you didn't take your cane, so I had to rush to find it as well as a jacket and keep sir Isaac from following me.” 

He takes the jacket from me now, setting it back on the edge of the bed. Sir Isaac is already curled up in the middle waiting for us. Thomas helps me into the bed and then walks to his side. His arms fold around me, and our cat who nuzzles against me, content in taking up the gap between Thomas and I. Warmth fills me and Thomas looks more relaxed, I lean over our cat to kiss his forehead and he gives me a tired smile. We fall asleep wrapped in each other, warm and no longer angry. Thomas’s words repeat in my mind.

You are the best thing that's ever been mine.

Once that claim would have suffocated me, but now I see it as endearing, my darling husband would do anything for me, as I would do anything for him. No matter what happens, however many fights or disagreements we have, we will both still love each other, and that love will triumph over our anger, as it had today, because we can’t stand harming each other in any way. I reach out and wrap my arm around him and agree with him. He is the best thing that has ever been mine.

@fangirling-again @ink-insomnia @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

[tiifalockhart]

Freckles

Pairing: Zack x Sephiroth

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for a dear friend of mine’s birthday <3 Happy birthday Ana, I hope you like your gift!! Inspired by her obsession with Sephiroth’s tiny freckles in AC <3

Masterlist || Ao3

A secret that Sephiroth somehow managed to unintentionally hide was the fact that he had freckles. 

The moment Zack realized it, it was like he fell in love all over again. 

It wasn’t an easy task to get close to Sephiroth, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes, it felt like you were speaking to a brick wall whenever you came into contact with him. He was formal and polite... That was about the best most strangers could describe him as. Sephiroth didn’t really open up to anyone, and anyone who wanted to try had to work very hard for it. There were very few people he naturally bonded with... One of those people being the “puppy” of SOLDIER.

Realistically, Zack was the only one close even to get a good look at Sephiroth’s facial features. The silver haired SOLDIER rarely let someone get close to him, even if they dared to. Most people were simply too intimidated to look him in the eye. 

Zack knew Sephiroth’s face like the back of his hand (mostly from the many hours he’s spent admiring and kissing it). He knew the way his cat-like pupils reacted to the lighting of the room, the way his face would get a pink tint whenever Zack said something mildly inappropriate. He knew the way Sephiroth would apply his mascara to hide his white eyelashes or the slight pout that would form on Sephiroth’s lips whenever Zack would take too long to join him in bed. Zack even knew the curves and strong features of Sephiroth’s face, his fingers trailing along with his cheek and jaw bones seemingly unendingly. The most enchanting part of Sephiroth’s facial features would be his tiny freckles that decorated the top of his cheekbones and nose. 

Sephiroth’s freckles are an easy feature to miss. No one knows where they came from, especially since none of Sephiroth’s supposed fathers or mothers had freckles. Perhaps it was from the sun from his many missions, but the rest of him never seemed to adopt this same tan (imagine the tan lines, though). It was a mystery for sure, but Zack hardly gave a damn about where they came from. 

The puppy’s favorite pass time quickly became kissing or counting Sephiroth’s freckles. Zack would squint and attempt to count them from across the room as if it was some kind of a game. Lazard definitely wasn’t seeing things when he saw Sephiroth’s cheeks turn slightly rosy from Zack’s gaze during a meeting one day. 

Every other day,  Zack would happily hold Sephiroth against his chest and recount his freckles, especially during their slow days. Zack continued to make ridiculous claims that Sephiroth had somehow developed yet another freckle. Most conversations went about the same. 

“Forty-five.... Forty-six.... Forty-seven.... Oh?....” Zack counted off as he examined Sephiroth’s face. The silver haired male was currently napping beneath him, lulled to sleep by Zack’s hand running through his hair. He nearly jumped out of his skin at Zack’s loud and dramatic gasp. “You have another one!! Forty-eight freckles!” He cheered. 

Sephiroth’s frown quickly turned into a pout as he sat up, removing himself from Zack’s lap. “You’ve interrupted my nap... Again.” He muttered, a sigh of defeat leaving his lips. “And I don’t have another freckle.” The SOLDIER added, moving over to the coffee machine and preparing for the evening. 

“You definitely have a new freckle.” Zack insisted, a proud smirk on his lips as he admired his boyfriend from afar. Sephiroth couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He knew better than to deny Zack, considering that Sephiroth never actually developed more freckles. Zack, frankly, was just terrible at counting them and would recount the same few freckles over and over again. 

...And Sephiroth had a lot more than just forty-eight freckles.

After a quick glance in the reflection of the metal in their microwave, Sephiroth let out a satisfactory hum. “It seems that I do.” He agreed formally, his straight face breaking as soon as Zack’s arms wrapped around him again. 

“Told ya.” Zack purred, that same proud grin decorating his lips. Sephiroth’s cheeks heated up at the touch, causing him to stubbornly look away.

“Don’t stare at me like you did the other day again during our meetings. Lazard asked me about the other day... I had to come up with a weird excuse.” He explained, handing Zack his overly-sweetened coffee before making his own bland and bitter black coffee. 

“Weird excuse?” Zack asked, pulling away and not really bothering to hide the smirk. “What did you manage to come up with? It’s not every day someone sees the hero himself blush.” He teased, replacing the ever-growing smirk with his coffee mug. 

“I... Do not wish to talk about it.” Sephiroth replied, looking away as he sulked. The images of Lazard’s disapproving gaze slowly changing into a knowing smirk will haunt Sephiroth forever. Zack could only let out a hushed chuckle as he shrugged it off. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, big guy.” He answered, reaching up to ruffle Sephiroth’s hair. The first class SOLDIER glared at Zack, an obvious gleam of playfulness in his eyes. 

Sephiroth ran his fingers through his hair, fixing the mess that Zack had made as he examined the younger. “It seems you wish to run more laps today, Zack.” Sephiroth quipped, causing the younger to raise his brows in surprise. 

“Hey, who told you that you could go all ‘Big Boss-man’ on me?” He complained. Apparently, it was Zack’s turn to pout as Sephiroth moved on from the kitchen, heading towards his bedroom to change. 

“I did. I hope you’ll be dressed before me... The track is looking quite lonely today otherwise.” Sephiroth continued, a smug glint in his eyes as he disappeared into his bedroom. 

Naturally, the two of them ended right back in the same spot later that night. Zack was cradling a sleepy Sephiroth, his fingers threading through his silver hair. Sephiroth wasn't much of a cuddler, especially with people who happen to be younger than him. Zack was very.... Proud, to say the least. It isn't just anyone who can make the top SOLDIER melt under their touch. Not even Genesis or Angeal had the same experience as Zack did. Zack definitely took this as a blessing and an ego booster. 

As much as Sephiroth dreaded it, he would occasionally feel the gentle brush of Zack’s free hand against his cheek as he once again counted the freckles on his face. Eventually, Zack will move on, Sephiroth thought. He will soon.... Right?

Sephiroth ended up being very wrong. How was he supposed to reject those heart-wrenching and cursed puppy eyes? Eventually, the counting exceeded past just counting. It grew from simple admiration to kissing. Sephiroth’s face would always end up with a slight pink tint by the time Zack moved on from decorating each of his freckles with two kisses each. 

This obsession also resulted in... Weird nicknames. Sephiroth, admittedly, wasn’t quite sure how he felt about most of them. They ranged from pretty normal names to something he would name a dog. For example, “Speckles” was certainly somewhere in that grey area. Over time, Sephiroth found himself growing more and more used to these... “Nicknames,” even responding to those that sound absolutely ridiculous.

Any time Sephiroth would come home to Zack, a bright grin was always present on the younger’s face. It made his heart swell... The thought of someone caring about him enough to be excited to see him every waking moment. “Good evening, Zack.” Sephiroth greeted somewhat formally, still adjusting to the whole ‘boyfriend’ concept.

Zack looked up at his lover. “Evening, cupcake with sprinkles.” He chimed, catching Sephiroth off guard. The silver haired male stopped in his tracks, slowly turning towards the other. 

“...What did you just call me?” He questioned, a confused and slightly bewildered look in his eyes. Sephiroth swore he had misheard Zack.

Zack laughed quietly and pushed himself off the couch, giving Sephiroth his greeting kiss. “Cupcake with sprinkles?” He replied, the statement sounding much like a question. “No good?” Zack asked, grinning at the older SOLDIER. 

Sephiroth, attempting to suppress the red color on his face, looked away. “It’s quite... Unique.” He answered, attempting to salvage Zack’s feelings. “However, you have come up with better in the past.” He continued, pulling away and stepping into his bedroom, beginning to change. 

Zack leaned against the door frame and raised a brow, crossing his arms as the smallest smirk formed on his lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He hummed, a somewhat teasing tone to his voice. Sephiroth’s mind began to swarm with the many, many terrible names Zack managed to come up with. Don’t get him wrong, he found it quite endearing... But at the same time, it was just downright weird stuff sometimes. 

A stifled cough left Sephiroth’s lips as he searched for an answer, before sighing in defeat. “...I thought freakles was quite unique and amusing.” He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid past Zack. 

Zack’s eyes lit up with admiration and interest, he obviously wasn’t expecting that answer. “You liked freakles? Out of every other nickname I’ve ever come up with?” He questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice. Sephiroth sighed in defeat as he grabbed some leftover food out of the fridge. 

“It is certainly better than ‘cupcake with sprinkles.’ I am not a cupcake, Zack.” Sephiroth explained, attempting to bite back the smile that was fighting its way to his lips. “Freakles was... Witty. I liked it.” He explained, crossing his arms as he turned towards Zack. 

Zack raised a brow and nodded lightly. “Who knew you liked dad jokes so much?” He retorted playfully, winking at the older. Sephiroth scoff as he watched his food spin in the microwave. 

“I only like them because you never stop telling them.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “You’re worse than Angeal’s old jokebooks.” The first class SOLDIER teased. 

Zack pouted up at his boyfriend, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I think you meant better?” He argued playfully, his voice holding an astronomical amount of sass. Sephiroth merely rolled his eyes and grabbed their food, placing it on two plates for them both. 

Eventually, this obsession Zack had developed moved onto simple admiration. Zack constantly had eyes full of love for Sephiroth. It was absolutely adorable to some (like Angeal), and really gross to others (like Genesis). The puppy would get in the same pose every time, his chin would rest on his right palm, his lips would curl into a pleasant smile and his gaze would hold love in it, as if he were falling in love with Sephiroth all over again. There was a point in time where Zack was no longer afraid of people finding out about their relationship. Hell, what is there to be afraid of? 

Sephiroth could always feel Zack’s gaze on him, but it didn’t bother him. He had grown used to his unreserved displays of love. PDA had never been something that Sephiroth was fond of, but he would let Zack get away with a lot of it. Most of the time, Zack would pepper kisses along his freckles. Other times, Zack would simply hold his hand, looking like he was the proudest SOLDIER out there. Sephiroth... Admired Zack for his explicit nature when it came to love, he personally could never imagine being so open with the public in such a way. In some weird manner, this open display Zack constantly put on was some version of security for Sephiroth. Surely this meant that they were in it for the long run? Sephiroth wasn’t going to complain, he loved Zack and wanted him to know it at all times as well. 

So, from the moment they started being more open about their relationship, there was hardly ever a moment in time where Sephiroth felt lonely and unloved. Zack was always by his side, giving him words of encouragement and kissing each of his freckles. Sephiroth couldn’t ask for anything better at this point. He felt safe knowing that he won’t ever lose Zack.

...And that his crazy nicknames finally stopped.

[bunnyywritings]

How would the main 3 react to making their crush laugh so hard they're crying and then they snort-

making their crush cry with laughter

[a/n: thank you for the request anon!! I’m guessing you mean the the main 3 for bnha 🥰 this is so adorable, apologies if it’s a little short hehe enjoy -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

izuku midoriya

✰ you caught this poor boy off guard

✰ i think midoriya is the type that’s funny without really meaning to be? Like he’ll turn red and stutter when he’s embarrassed and it makes you laugh a bit?

✰ he doesn’t really mind that you’re kinda laughing at him

✰ he just thinks you have an adorable laugh

✰ plus he knows there’s no ill intent behind it

✰ so when he makes you laugh so hard that you start tearing up and getting red in the face

✰ he’s very very proud of himself

✰ but when you snort?

✰ he starts to giggle a bit because he thinks that your little snort is so very cute and endearing

✰ it’s also a little funny to him that you get embarrassed about it

✰ 10/10 will always try his hardest to get you to laugh that hard

✰ just so he can hear you snort

-

“There’s no way!”

“I swear I can.” He noddded eagerly, turning away from you. You waited curiously, until he turned back around. Your eyes widened.

His face was contorted in ways that you didn’t think was possible for him. The sharp and deep contours casting half of his face in shadows.

“Not to worry! I am here!” His voice was a few octaves lower. He was impersonating All Might, very well.

“Oh my god!” He watched as your draw dropped and your laugh filled his ears. Keeping up his imitation, he continued to mumble silly things that the pro hero would never say.

“Young Midoriya! I am-“ You eyes got impossibly bigger as the pro hero entered the dorms, pausing as he watched the absolute ridiculousness happening in front of him.

“A-All Might?!” Midoriya’s face went back to normal, blushing and absolutely terrified that his idol caught him mid imitation. The tears left your eyes, hand slapping over your mouth as a short escaped your nose. You were in hysterics. It took everything in Midoriya to not grab your face and plant a big smooch on your lips. All Might could see how his protege looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. With a small smile, he shook his head and made his way over to Aizawa’s living quarters.

bakugo katsuki

✷ you laugh at him all the time

✷ well...let me rephrase

✷ you laugh at the things he SAYS all the time

✷ being apart of the bakusquad was such a delight

✷ there was never a dull moment, especially when Bakugo was yelling at Denki

✷ his insults and comparisons were always hilarious to hear to see what would come out of his mouth next

✷ he stares at you for a bit

✷ he’s kinda confused, he’s never heard you laugh so hard

✷ “the hell are you laughing at?!”

✷ the blush on his cheeks made him all the less intimidating

✷ you couldn’t even answer him, a snort leaving your throat instead of words

✷ the sound surprising the both of you, embarrassment filling your body as your boisterous laughter continued to ring in his ears

-

You had been chilling with Mina in the common room, minding your own business when Denki comes running in and screaming about god knows what. The sound of Bakugo’s shouts not that far behind him.

“What is it now?” You asked boredly, scrolling through tik tok when a phone thumped into your lap and Denki his behind the couch. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you pressed play on the video. It was of Bakugo baby talking a stray cat. He had a soft smile on his face as he scratched the feline behind the ears. Denki and Kirishima’s quiet snickering could be heard in the video before Bakugo turns around. All calmness from his face contorting into anger.

“Oi! IDIOTS!” the blush on his cheeks made it all the more funny. Bakugo stomped into the common room, stopping when he heard your laughter.

“Bakugo, you’re such a softie!” Your laughs made his blush deepen as the others teased him.

“The hell are you laughing at?!” He growled, his voice cracking in the slightest. A snort left your throat, followed by babbling of incoherent words as you continued to laugh. Tears leaking out of your eyes, cheeks a deep red. He tried really hard to be upset but if he got to hear your laughter at the expense of being teased by his friends, he’d do it 100 times over.

He was whipped for you.

todoroki shoto

❆ todoroki is another one who’s funny without meaning to be

❆ remember the hand crusher thing?

❆ he always enjoys hearing you laugh though

❆ he likes the way his heart beats faster and his body fills with warmth

❆ he also likes the way your nose crinkles up

❆ he’s quite used to you laughing at things he says

❆ always having you explain to him why it was funny

❆ so when he makes an off hand joke about his dad

❆ your eyes widened before you basically explode with laughter

❆ so much so that you were gasping for air

❆ causing you to snort laugh

❆ he’s never heard it before but I he thinks it’s adorable

❆ your head was thrown back as you continue to laugh, blush on your cheeks, wide smile splitting your lips

❆ he felt the butterflies in his tummy come alive

❆ he decided that he liked making you laugh like that

-

He stared, forehead creased in confusion.

“What-?” He couldn’t really think of anyone to say. His cheeks flushing pink when it meowed, pawing the air.

“Isn’t he cute? He reminded me of you.” You were holding up a kitten that you had found stranded in the middle of the street. It had peered up at you with wide blue and grey eyes, paired with the pure white fur. It instantly reminded you of him.

Throughout the day, he saw you give the kitty constant love and affection. He had found himself a little jealous. Even if you weren’t his s/o, he felt very strongly about sharing your attention. Especially with such an adorable creature. Once you had gotten up and gone to the restroom, he took his chance. Picking up the kitten and putting it in his lap, gently scratching its ears and watching in awe as it nuzzled into his palm.

“I have no choice but to think of you as my enemy.” He sighed, the kitten only tilting its head in confusion. “You see, I can’t compete with you. You have something that I don’t. Once I figure it out, I will definitely be the winner in this feud.”

You stood there eyes widening after having listened to everything he had said. You snorted, failing to keep your laughter at bay. He looked up at you and watched as you clutched your chest. Tears coming out of your eyes.

“Oh Sho, there’s no need to compete.” He tilted his head at your words, staring up at you as you approached. Your heart beat as you looked into his wide eyes. “You’ve already won my heart.”

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱(open) : @ohbois-biggay-bnha @yuiji-yuiji

[wowtobio]

hi, can i get headcanons for ushijima, tsuki, and kageyama with a s/o who has scratches on their arms from playing with cats or just being clumsy but the boys mistake it as self harm. like they’re so worried at first but then their s/o reassures them that its nothing lol

❧ Ushijima, Tsukishima, and Kageyama react to s/o w/ scratches on their arms ❧

oooh interesting, i hope you enjoy! ❤

also a quick a/n: i am so so sorry i have been inactive this past week, it’s currently ap testing and i am procrastinating from studying, writing this while eating takis hehe. good luck to anyone going thru testing/online school!

genre: fluff | warnings: tw/mentions of self harm, cursing

-

Ushijima

He for sure notices the light, red markings on your wrists the moment you expose them. You probably rolled up your sleeves one hot afternoon and he eyes it with his usual deadpan face. The only difference being the curiosity that glazes his hard eyes. 

Ushijima dismisses it at first, not wanting to pry into your personal business, but as more marks appear on your arms that’s when he shows slight concern. SLIGHT. And boy does it catch you off guard. 

“(l/n)-san, are you okay?” 

“How are you feeling today?” 

Questions like those pop out of nowhere, during school and practice and you always flush red from his inquiries. So out of character, but you find it almost endearing, answering his questions with confusion in your tone.

He just nods and leaves you alone, more questions flurrying your mind.

While walking to the dorms, your sleeves rolled up once again due to the heat radiating from the beautiful sunset, Ushijima raises an eyebrow. Your so confident in showing off your scars, an odd trait Ushijima concludes to himself. There has to be something up he thinks to himself.

“(l/n)-san. What are those on your arms?” You jump from his voice suddenly breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you and confusion casts over your being once again. Glancing at your arms, it all clicks into place. 

“Ohhhhh!” You exclaim, further confusing the broad ace. 

It all made sense now, the weird behavior and questions Ushijima would ask at least once a day for the past few weeks. You giggle quietly to yourself before confirming 

“Ushi, these scratches are from my family cat! He isn’t the most loving, but I absolutely adore him, soo when I cuddle with him he is quick to scratch and run, but that doesn’t stop me of course!” You beam brightly towards him. 

His straight face curls slightly into a small smile, he just can’t help but admire your smiling, adorable face. 

You embrace him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Ushijima stiffens slightly, before relaxing into your warmth. His hand resting on your hips as he places his chin on top your head, smiling out of relief and happiness. 

Tsukishima

Like Ushijima, Tsukishima does notice it at first as well. But he just brushes it off not giving a care. I can see him having the mindset of, it’s not my business to butt in whatever she’s going through.

The marks become more apparent to him, and for whatever reason he just finds himself staring at them often, feeling irritation deep down for whatever reason. 

It upsets him, but not in the way you would expect. He even goes as far as to assume that you just really wanted attention. 

And it would continue to bother him for awhileeee. If you two are in a relationship he would continue to be bothered by it but never mentioning it to you, because you just seemed so happy and fine and never even once talk about the marks adorning your skin. 

Cuddling on the couch, you’re in between his legs, back flush against his chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You were wearing just a tank top and some shorts, the red lines present as ever. 

Tsukishima can’t focus on the movie on the tv, just staring down at your arms. He decides to experiment. He runs his fingers along your marks, tracing them a bit and applying slight pressure to them. 

All you do is sigh with content and nuzzle deeper into his chest, eyes glued on the screen unbothered by his actions. As cute as he would never admit to you but to himself, Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrows. And he finally gives him. 

“Oi (y/n). What are these?” He raises your wrist slightly and you look up to him, your obvious confusion makes him scowl. 

Realizing what he meant you chuckle. “These are just from my bitch of a cat Kei, nothing less.” And Tsukishima just deadpans you. You continue

“Mhmm. He kinda reminds me of you hehe, never returning my everlasting love for him!” Dramatically gasping, he feels his vein pop and flicks your forehead grumbling. 

“Ouuuch Kei! What? Were you worried about little ol’ me?” You snicker as he continues to grumble before you catch him off guard, kissing him deeply while sitting in his lap, facing him.

From then on, Tsuki would just tease you every now and then about the cat scratches on your arm, along with your height asshole.

Kageyama

Stares, he stares so much. Like waaaay more than the two above. And you know how intense his stares are. 

Like remember that one scene where he was mumbling a bunch of questions while staring intensely at Kenma? Yeah it’s like that. And you are both scared shitless and confused.

Despite his obvious stares and many questions he asks to mostly himself, he would NEVER have the guts to ask you about them out of concern. 

He just doesn’t know how to ask, and he’s even a little bit scared to talk about those topics with you. He worries the most out of it though, jumping to conclusions, he wants to be there for you but poor baby is just too awkward and scared to say a word. 

Until one day you finally caught him red-handed staring at your arms. It was a hot day after practice, so you were wearing just a t-shirt and it wasn’t more obvious where his eyes were at. It all makes sense now.

“Kageyama, are you staring at my arms??” He jumps, flushing red and just becomes a stuttering MESS.

“I-I uh, no! I m-mean yes, b-but not like t-that BOKE!” 

You rest your hands on his shoulders trying to reassure and calm down the setter, his words keep failing to come out in full coherent sentences and you finally shut him up by practically yelling about how it was just cat scratches. 

He freezes, an unreadable expression upon his face and he would probably just escape from your grasp and speed walk ahead.  You holler after him, trying to pick up your pace to match his. The boy got some long legs so good luck. 

Eventually you clutch on the back of his shirt, teasing him about how cute he is all worried about you. Wishing you could see his flustered face, the tips of his ears being a dead giveaway.

“S-shut up..” 

-

a/n: and also THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS!! i am so so shocked and happy, thank you for the support! i will continue to improve and write more for all of you. I love you all and I hope you all are happy and healthy :)

[calicomold]

Human Satan HCs (GN MC)

How they meet

MC, at a cat: “My darling angel!! How’ve you been?”

Satan “.. um, I’ve been fine?”

Satan: *finally noticing the cat in MC’s arms*

Satan, blushing: “Oh.. you were- You were talking to the cat. N-nevermind sorry”

MC, this time to Satan: “Hello to you too darling!”

Satan: *blushing even more profusely*

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

They learn quickly that they’ve both been visiting this same spot to pet cats.

From then on, MC always greets him with a “My darling~”

It actually took a long time for MC to get his name because of this.

One time they run into each other at a nearby cafe and MC greets him as usual which makes his friends think he is dating MC.

Noticing the teasing, MC pulls him out to ask whether or not he’s uncomfortable with being called ‘darling’ since they will stop any time he asks.

They also include that if he changes his mind later he can still tell them because they respect his boundaries like that.

When Satan says “It’s okay... I don’t mind it.” he quickly regrets it because MC’s expression quickly turns into a smirk and they reply “Then does that mean you actually like it?”

*blushing intensifies*

From then on MC starts to use every endearment you can think of for Satan, including baby, angel, the love of my life, dear, honey, my love, precious and pretty.

No, they’re nOt dAtiNG

YET

Their friends still think they are though.

And suddenly they’re running into each other very often? Were they always so close by and just hadn’t noticed?

Lol sike, Satan tries his best to match his schedule to fit MC’s and is hovering around in places they’ll likely to visit in hopes to see them.

He does it unconsciously, doesn’t even think he has a crush.

He’s not stalking them I swear.

Or maybe he is ?? idk, pick your own choice.

They’re both idiots. Yes, MC is flirting with him but they don’t think they actually like like him, it’s just for funsies.

Satan just likes being cherished by MC, he knows that every time he sees them his heart feels warm and he hasn’t given it any more thought than that.

One time Satan is sick (ofc I would include this trope), so MC goes to visit him and he just looks so cute and sleepy in his bed wearing cat PJs that before MC can think they reach out to kiss him.

...

You’d think that would help them resolve their feelings but no.

They’re still idiots.

Satan ends up convincing himself that it meant nothing. Sure normal friends don’t kiss each other but their relationship has been very far from normal so something is like can happen.

MC still hasn’t rationalised it yet. Rather they’re asking themself why and trying to forget it, classifying it as one of the many cringe things they’ve done throughout their life.

Since it was a friend thing, Satan can reciprocate it, right?

So one day, MC is standing in Satan’s living room and out of nowhere, he grabs MC’s forearm pulling them towards him and leaves a chaste kiss on their cheek. Baby steps.

It is now MC’s turn to freak out and blush profusely.

And somehow, this becomes a norm. They often kiss each other casually. Always in the privacy of their own homes, never in front of others.

Over time, Satan gets used to it and becomes more confident in his actions.

What MC thought would be a nOrMal KiSs between fRiENds ends up with Satan licking their lips and going “tasty~” with a goddamned smile on his face.

MC doesn’t know what to make of it so they get angry.

Then they blame themself thinking they’re the one who first kissed him without asking him, so it’s okay, he just didn’t know, maybe he also did it without thinking.

I’m starting to think they’re intentionally avoiding thinking about feelings. Like, you can’t be that oblivious, right? I know I’m the one writing this but still...

Anyways, their platonic kisses have now turned into heavy but still platonic makeout sessions on Satan’s couch.

If that wasn’t enough, one morning MC goes to Satan’s and find him sleeping on his bed. (they have each other’s keys, are we really surprised here?)

As they are about to leave the room, Satan grabs their wrist and asks them to stay. Of course, they oblige.

So here they are, sitting on Satan’s lap in his bed as he holds them while resting his head on their shoulder, still very sleepy. Did I mention he is not wearing a shirt?

They’re not sure how long they stayed that way but it felt like an eternity and not long enough both at once.

But it was long enough for them both to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

And so when MC wakes up, they find Satan’s arms wrapped around their waist. They stay like that for a while observing his face and playing with his hair.

When he finally opens his eyes they say the first words they can think of

“Hey, Satan... I think I love you.”

Satan replies, still sleepy “I love you too.” as he holds them even tighter.

Afterwards, MC is worried because Satan was technically half asleep right?? Does it count? Does he even remember?

And Satan is worried that MC said they think.

Sure Satan only came to the revelation that he loves MC in that very moment but he has never been more sure of something than he is now. And they think they love him, it pisses him off.

So Satan is a little cold towards MC, and in return, MC thinks he doesn’t feel the same way and only said it since he was half-asleep.

So without any proper communication, MC starts to avoid him.

Now Satan is in panic. They said they loved him so why? He only gave them the cold shoulder for a bit, he didn’t even do or say anything mean!

He can’t take the suspense and rushes to their house.

MC opens the door at 2 am just to find a whiny Satan who jumps straight into their arms and softly requests them “Please don’t ignore me.”

The only thing MC can bring themself to say at that moment is “Okay... I won’t” as they pat his head.

They cuddle on MC’s bed that night. Any leftover conversation is saved for the morning... or maybe afternoon, once they are both sane and rested enough to convey their emotions properly.

[isp-annafer]

breakfast and a show

technically just a little Hubert & Jeralt drabble. I just saw these two characters and thought, oh! neat! I wanna see them talk. And then they never did. So here is me just writing that because damnit I guess I gotta feed myself huh.

Hints of Byleth pairing with the three lords, but no concrete romance. 

–

“Morning,” Jeralt says as he drops heavily on the free seat beside the sunken-eyed kid on the only free table of the dining hall. He’s seen the kid around the Empire’s princess a lot. Always hovering over her shoulder like a keen-eyed cat, except taller and probably had poison coating its claws. From Byleth’s stories, Jeralt can narrow him down to Hubert von Vestra.

Said Hubert von Vestra merely gives him a nod, the frown on his face barely moving an inch.

Ah. The quiet type. Thank the goddess. Jeralt turns back to his meal, which smells heavenly. If there’s one thing Jeralt misses after he left the monastery, it was the meals. He sniffs at his dish. It smells like it had been loaded with some kind of spice that can make his eyes water.

There’s the sound of a clink! beside him, Hubert’s spoon dropping harshly on his empty plate. Jeralt follows his gaze to a spot several tables across them.

The Empire’s princess, the Kingdom’s prince, and Byleth all sitting on the same table.

It sounds like the beginning of a joke.

The sight makes Jeralt snort. “Enjoying the show, kid?”

Hubert, somehow, frowns even more, pulling his gaze from solemn to downright murderous. “’Enjoying’ might be too generous of a descriptor, Captain.” He doesn’t stop glaring at the trio sitting several tables away from them.

Normally, Jeralt isn’t the type to spy on whatever his kid was doing, but seeing as they’re doing it in public, Jeralt has no qualms leaning his chin on his hand as he watches Byleth with an amused smile.

As he watches, Byleth leans back, enjoying their next bite of treacle. That Faerghus princeling, Dimitri, looks more preoccupied by the sight of them eating than his own meal, the boy’s own spoon tilting precariously. At some point, the spoonful of food there is going to fall on the prince’s lap and Jeralt will have no qualms laughing at it. Across them, the Adrestian princess, Edelgard, leans forward just slightly, asking Byleth something with bright eyes, her own meal forgotten.

Goddess, it’s so very obvious those two have a crush.

It’s equally painful and hilarious that Byleth has missed all signs of it. Turns out Byleth had taken after him in the romance department. Jeralt had been hoping Byleth had taken after Sitri’s instead. It was Sitri, after all, who went, “Ah. So I am in love,” and proceeded to terrorize the librarians by speeding through all the books about romance, real or otherwise, and using what she learned to court the shit out of him.

It had been equal parts bewildering and endearing. It had also resulted in a lot of books being confiscated because of their, “inaccurate portrayal of the effectiveness of their courting technique.”

Ah. He truly had the best wife.

Jeralt tucks the pang in his chest deep deep down, and puts on a smirk instead when Dimitri really does spill the spoon on his lap. Dimitri stammers, ears red though he maintains his composure. His royal training didn’t fall short there at least. Jeralt buries his amusement with his first bite of the meal, just to let the kid save some dignity.

“You gotta admit,” Jeralt says after he finishes his meal. “It’s kind of hilarious Byleth doesn’t realize they have two future monarchs wrapped around their finger.”

“Lady Edelgard will not let this distract her from her goals,” Hubert says stiffly.

Weird wording, but okay. Jeralt resists the urge to pat him in the back consolingly. The kid looks like someone shoved a lemon down his throat. It’s a funny look. Were kids always that expressive or did Byleth ruin him with their microexpressions? “I’m sure she won’t.”

Hubert nods, except his face turns even more sour when Edelgard shares her dessert with Byleth, letting them spoon out a bite for themselves. Byleth’s pleased expression – in Byleth’s language, a slight widening of their eyes, lips twitching just enough to show teeth – inspires an answering smile on Edelgard’s face, her own cheeks flushed. The unpracticed lilt of her smile makes Jeralt wonder how often she lets herself enjoy things.

Jeralt doesn’t want to ask. It’s none of his business, and Jeralt has made a habit of not inserting himself into anyone else’s business because it means he won’t be punted face-first into their problems, but Hubert is emitting a murderous aura at his kid, and anything involving Byleth involves him too.

“You okay?” Jeralt asks, because murder aura or not, Hubert is also still a kid. Technically. 20-years-old still felt like a child to him.

“Nothing to concern yourself over,” Hubert says, which kind of makes Jeralt feel more concerned. “I am merely watching out for my Lady’s interests.”

He’s always watching the princess. Jeralt would have worried he was a stalker if it weren’t for the fact that he sometimes sees how the princess relaxes around him, or that sometimes, when she can’t see him, her eyes swerve around her surroundings until she finds a sign of his presence, hidden or otherwise.

“Byleth’s not going to jump her the moment you turn your eyes, you know?” Jeralt points out wryly. “I’m pretty sure they see her more as a kid they have to guide and teach. Come back in, maybe, 5 years or so when she’s years older and not Byleth’s student anymore. Then, you should worry.”

“Hmph.” Hubert looks away from him.

Wait.

Jeralt’s lips twitch, and he resists the urge to laugh. “Are you jealous?”

Hubert’s face spasms, before he finally turns away from the trio to glare at him. “I am not.”

Jeralt coughs, turning his almost-laugh into a very harsh clearing of his throat. “Look. How long have you and the princess known each other?”

“We have known each other since we were children.”

You’re all children to me, Jeralt wants to say. Instead, he goes, “So, A long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“So why are you so… uh, wary over Byleth?” Jeralt knows Byleth is kind of upset that Hubert doesn’t like them. At least, as upset as Byleth can be. They take their new professor thing seriously, and having one of their students dislike them leaves them dismayed at the thought that they’re not doing their job well.  

Hubert smiles, though it looks more like he’s grinding his teeth. “I just find Lady Edelgard’s interest in them very.. inconvenient. I am merely looking out for her safety.”

“True, true.” Jeralt nods. “It must be weird, though, to be the Princess’s sole confidant and then, suddenly, she starts to open up to someone new. Someone’ that’s not you.”

Hubert glares at him.

Oooh, did Jeralt hit the target there? Wait, no. Don’t bully the kid. This as a legitimate concern for the brat. It’s kind of adorable to watch him be troubled by something so… petty. What was a few months worth of Byleth’s guidance over their years of friendship and loyalty? He rarely sees a pair more in tune with each other than Hubert and Edelgard are.

“You say you’ve known each other for years now,” Jeralt continues. “Then surely you must know the type of person the Princess is. Is she the kind to just throw out her trust so easily?”

“No,” Hubert admits.

“And is she the type to choose a new acquaintance over someone she has, as you say, known and probably trusted for years?”

“…no.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about. What, are you upset she’s not spending as much time with you anymore?”

“Captain, what little respect for you I have will be thrown away if you continue prodding me in this.”

Jeralt rolls his eyes but he backs off anyway. He’s done his best. Maybe now, Hubert will be less… Hubert towards Byleth and By will finally stop being sad about Hubert’s lack of trust in them.

“Hey.” He pushes the kettle closer to Hubert. “Want some?”

“I detest tea.”

“Good, because it’s not.”

Hubert stares at him, black eyes glaringly droll.

Jeralt whips out one of his teacups from the tray and pours the kettle on it. What comes out is a murky black liquid, which Jeralt shows off.

It is definitely not tea.

“Ah.”

Jeralt pours another teacup and places it between them. The smell is obvious now, Jeralt hopes. Byleth did say Hubert preferred coffee.

A flash of Golden Deer yellow catches his eye from the trio’s direction

“Whoop, there’s the other one.” Jeralt gestures back to the trio. Hubert turns to look, face settling into a frustrated groan though he doesn’t make a sound.

Well. Not a trio anymore. That von Reigan kid’s somehow invited himself into the conversation, draping an arm around Byleth as he slides on the free seat beside them. Dimitri smiles at his entrance, though his shoulders are a little stiff, and Edelgard looks incredibly annoyed at the interruption.

Jeralt hides a smirk behind another sipful of coffee.

And so the plot thickens.

Silently, Jeralt slides the cup of coffee closer to Hubert. He accepts it with a grim nod.

–

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

U should make a fic based on cannibal hoodie love story. Even if it is just in ur head 👀 [also, you're great <3] -AmazingAnon

One completely regular afternoon in Lawrence, Kansas, Dean comes back from a milk run wearing a hoodie Cas has never seen before.

Which is strange, because Cas always believed he was prompt enough about going through Dean's stuff.

So, offended at this blatant disregard for his feelings, and subtle shade at his efficiency, he fixes a frown on his face and waits for Dean to enquire about it as he crosses him in the library.

He doesn't.

And that's when Cas begins to suspect something's wrong.

*

The hoodie doesn't come off all day.

Not when he's researching, and not when he's also wearing a kitchen apron with it, and not when he's washing dishes. Cas stays behind to help him with the latter though, and is determined to ask about whatever is up, but Dean leads the conversation in a different direction.

"You know what the best thing about being in love is, Cas?"

Cas has a few guesses.

Also, he shakes his head.

"It's that you," Dean obliges, a spark of something unusual in his eyes. "Can never get enough of each other."

Cas stills.

Did Dean know?

After all, he'd stayed back to find a way to bring up the hoodie in conversation, in spite of being — and he's quoting Sam here, easily the less prone to insulting metaphors Winchester — "the worst at washing dishes since a cat with a water hose."

Could this mean —

Oh, crap.

"Doing a really good job on that spoon there, buddy." Dean cuts into his thoughts — because when has he not — with an easy grin. Cas looks down at where he's been aggressively wiping the item. "Think you're ready for a second spoon?"

Cas blushes, not wholly cause of the spoon comment either.

Dean knew. Dean knew.

"Maybe even a bowl?"

Cas picks one up obediently, ignoring the pit in his stomach.

"And maybe if we're feeling adventurous, even a plate or three?" Dean adds, wiping his hands on a towel having finished washing the dishes. Cas tries to look for him wiping the remaining few drops after that on his shirt — but he doesn't.

Instead, he tucks his hands into his pockets — probably better to call it one large pocket, though. Those have always fascinated Cas — and flashes one last grin at Cas before leaving for his bedroom, and leaving Cas stranded with wet dishes and plaguing doubts.

Typical.

(But, was it?)

*

Later — actually, much later than the probably expected later — when Cas is passing by Dean's bedroom en route to his own, he hears a sound that makes him plaster himself to the door, straining to listen harder.

It's a giggle.

Then, for a long time, nothing.

And finally, right before Cas gave up being patient — he was only human now, wasn't he — there's another breathy voice. Definitely Dean, but unlike anything Cas has ever heard the hunter say.

"Stop!" More laughter. "It tickles!"

Cas blinks.

How —

"Oh, you."

There it was, the lyrics of Cas's despair. And apparently, the chosen phrase of Winchester endearment.

Cas sighs sadly, and walks away.

Dean has a visitor.

Dean knows, and he has a visitor.

Cas can just ask about the incriminating hoodie in the morning.

*

Turns out that's a bad idea.

Because next morning, Dean is nowhere to be found.

It's after eleven am that Sam starts to fret, complaining about Dean's sleeping (and bingewatching through the night) habits at Cas over a bulky book of witchlore — he just nods sympathetically for his part — and it's pushing noon when he gives in and goes to storm into Dean's room.

"Sam," Cas interjects, suddenly realizing he may have some information that helps. "Dean had had a visitor last night."

"A woman?" Sam frowns.

And Cas may have been gender neutral in his statement but Sam was probably right anyway.

"Maybe."

"In the bunker?" Sam bristled, mostly to himself, marching towards Dean's room with renewed irritation. Cas follows, somehow feeling responsible.

They barge in, expecting a passed out Dean, and perhaps a passed out another person — woman, he means woman — and find neither.

"But the Impala was in the garage." Sam sounds like he's leaning into the worried area on the scale of irated to anxious. "And he's not in the kitchen, or the gym, or the bathroom."

Cas shifts closer to Dean's bed, ignoring Sam's commentary.

"And I think he's past keeping hunts secret, just because they're 'risky'." Sam wonders aloud, putting on his worst Dean impression at the end. "So unless he's somehow busy allying with an old, all-powerful, morally ambiguous cosmic being, he'd have told —"

Cas reaches Dean's side, and gently pulls off the blanket.

"And it's not like he'd go anywhere without his car anyway," Sam keeps going, brow furrowed. "Also I've been home for a few hours now, I'd have seen him leave. Hey, you think we should check the —"

Sam freezes, mouth agape as he sees Cas sat on Dean's side with tear filled eyes, clutching a hoodie in his lap.

"...Cas?"

As a way of responding, Cas lifts the blanket and reveals his findings.

It's Dean's pyjamas, and what seems way too much like Scooby Doo boxers — rumpled, but laid on the bed as if worn by an invisible (bodyless) creature.

Sam clears his throat. "I — Cas, what is happening —"

"Don't you get it?" Cas bellows at him, with almost all the fierceness he's been lacking the past couple of weeks. "It's the hoodie! It always has been the hoodie!"

"Still don't, uh." Sam hesitates. "I still don't get it, Cas."

Cas looks up painstakingly and draws in a breath to compose himself. It works, apparently, because he has no trouble deadpanning the following to the younger Winchester. "Dean was in love with it. Also, it could probably tickle."

Sam blinks.

"Also, it ate him."

There's a pause.

"I'm not supposed to laugh, am I?"

"Sam Winchester, your brother has been eaten by a sentient cannibalistic hood —" Cas starts, but Sam's already dissolved into laughter before he's finished with his sentence, so instead he scowls darkly, and looks back at the (ridiculously soft) evil in his hands.

And starts to plot a save-and-avenge plan.

He wouldn't let the hoodie win.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

70s Jimercury

I know this was completed brilliantly by another anon, but I wanted to give it a try myself because it’s such a funny prompt. Credit goes to the anon who came up with this.

Warning for some outdated language regarding gay people (e.g., queer, homosexual, etc.)

‘In my defence,’ said Roger, as the car went over a speed bump and he temporarily lost his balance, almost ending up on Brian’s lap, ‘it was John who dared me to put chewing gum in your hair, so technically this is all his fault.’

‘Don’t even talk to me.’ Brian growled, his expression so dark it made Roger feel like a ghost had passed through him. ‘You’re lucky Miami was able to get me this appointment at such short notice. If he hadn’t, you and Deacy would be arriving to that photoshoot tonight in a hearse.’

‘You’re breaking my heart, Bri.’ Roger yawned, leaning back in his seat. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist; the nice barber man will trim your bush and you’ll be good as new for your close up.’

‘Oh yeah, with a whopping great bald patch!’

‘Such a pessimist. Trust me; one day we’ll be sitting on my front lawn, sipping tea, and laughing about this.’

Brian’s face remained bland as a stone.

‘Oh, cheer up, would you?’ The drummer threw up his arms in defeat. ‘We already have one miserable bastard in this band, we don’t need another one.’

Brian sighed, staring out of the darkened window as his mind turned to their ailing frontman. Freddie hadn’t been the same since his breakup with David Minns. David was, after all, his first proper love; he had given Freddie the courage to finally come to terms with who he really was and end his fraudulent relationship with Mary. There was something about David that brought Freddie to life in a way that Brian had never seen before. When David was around, he glowed with an energy that didn’t seem humanly possible.

But all relationships have their ups and downs. Freddie never went into detail about the rows that occurred between he and David, but Brian had heard through the grapevine that there were several contributing factors to the breakup, ranging from Freddie's strained relationship with his parents to arguments becoming physical. But the real catalyst came in the form of a blond American man named Joe Fanelli; and Freddie being Freddie, he just couldn’t resist temptation when it was offered up to him on a silver platter.

The aftermath of the separation had been…devastating to say the least. The spark in Freddie had almost vanished entirely, replaced with an emotionless husk. He had no motivation, not even to perform; his days were spent hidden away in his hotel room, refusing to emerge, even for the most basic necessities like food and water. And the others had no choice but to sit and watch his self-destruction.

‘We need to do something about him.’ Brian announced, as the car pulled up to the curb where security was already waiting for them. ‘It’s been two weeks and he’s barely shifted from that bed. We’ll need to stage a fucking intervention at this point.’

‘One problem at a time, Bri.’ Roger replied as the car door was pulled open. ‘Now hop it, Miami will eat us alive if we’re late.’

They made it into the Savoy without being detected by any lurking members of the public; Brian sighed in relief as he was led into the salon and all but collapsed in the barber chair. He just wanted to get his hair sorted and then leave as soon as possible. He was tired, he was hungry, and he felt fucking awful for making some poor underpaid hairdresser stay behind after hours to battle with his curly mop. He just hoped he’d be able to keep up with the endless questions that would undoubtedly be coming his way; after all, it wasn’t every day you got to trim a celebrity’s noggin, was it?

‘Alright lads?’ A thick, friendly Irish accent suddenly filled the room, and the two of them turned to see an average sized man with a dark, thick beard pop out from behind the counter, a large black gown draped on his arm and a toolbag under the other. ‘What can I do for you today?’

Brian motioned to the wad of gum stuck in his curls. ‘Going to need to take a chunk out of my head, I’m afraid. This one over hear thought it would be funny to use my skull as a school desk.’

‘It was a dare.’ Roger grumbled.

The man chuckled humorously. ‘Let’s have a look at it before we do anything rash.’ He draped the gown around Brian’s front, before opening up the toolbag and setting out the various instruments on the counter. ‘I’m Jim by the way.’

‘Brian. The smug twat sitting over there is Roger.’

Said twat pulled a face. ‘Oi!’

The first thing that struck Brian was that this fellow didn’t appear to recognise them at all. They chatted about nearly everything except music; and when the conversation turned to work and Jim asked what Brian did for a living, the guitarist was certain that someone was pulling his leg. Had Miami really managed to find the one barber in London who had no idea who Queen was?

‘We’re musicians.’ He replied, glancing in the mirror for any sign of recognition in Jim’s eyes. ‘We actually have our own band. Ever heard of Queen?’

The barber frowned slightly in thought. ‘Queen? Sorry, doesn’t ring any bells. I’m not really up to date with today’s music. Does your band perform locally?’

‘On occasion.’

‘Had any success?’

‘We do alright for ourselves.’ Brian glared at Roger as the drummer sniggered in the background.

‘Good news.’ Declared Jim, after ten minutes of fiddling about with Brian’s forest of curls. ‘I should be able to shift this with a bit of conditioner. No cutting needed.’

‘Are you serious?’ Brian could have kissed the man if he was that way inclined. ‘Mate, that’s fantastic.’

Jim excused himself to go into the back room, oblivious to the pair of narrowed blue eyes that followed him, studying every step. Roger, who had been silent throughout the exchange between the other two men, suddenly twiddled his fingers together like a Bond villain and quietly muttered, ‘queer.’

Brian stopped fussing with his hair long enough to turn towards him. ‘You what?’

‘Him.’ Roger pointed towards the door that Jim had just disappeared through. ‘Queer. I’d bet the Red Special on it.’

‘Roger, you can’t just go around calling people queer.’ Brian could feel his face heating up, praying the Irishman didn’t have sharp hearing. ‘Besides, how the bloody hell would you know if he’s queer or not? It’s not like he has it written on his forehead.’

‘Trust me, I know these things. Call it a sixth sense. Saw it coming from a mile away with Freddie.’

‘Did not.’

‘Did so, Brian. Unlike you, this sort of thing doesn’t fly over my head.’

Brian rolled his eyes. ‘Alright, let’s say he is queer. What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? He’d be perfect for Freddie.’

‘Seriously, Roger? You want to play matchmaker now? How exactly is he “perfect” for Freddie?’

‘He looks like Burt Reynolds, he spent ages gushing about his pet cat, and it’s pretty obvious he has no fucking idea who Queen are. Freddie’s always been a sucker for the average Joe.’

Brian opened his mouth to argue. Then he closed it again, immediately. Roger was…pretty damn spot on.

‘I say we get Freddie in here to meet him.’ Roger murmured, as Jim returned from the back room, bottle of conditioner in hand.

‘Sorry for the wait.’ The Irishman poured a dollop onto his palm, before carefully working it into the gum-infested locks. ‘Let’s see if we can get this bugger out.’

No less than five minutes later, the gum had been safely removed and Brian was a free man again. Miami had already covered the cost for the cut, but Brian insisted on leaving Jim a tip, eternally grateful that his pride and joy was still neatly intact. Maybe Roger had a point; Jim seemed like a decent bloke. Calm, friendly, ordinary in an endearing way. Broad and muscular like Freddie preferred, though not overly tall (though everyone was dwarfed in Brian’s presence.) And now that he thought about it, he did look a bit like Burt Reynolds…

‘You wouldn’t be able to do us a favour, would you Jim?’

‘Just name it.’ Jim replied, still staring gormlessly at the fifty-pound note in his hand.

‘We have a friend who’s in desperate need of a trim.’ The lie fell off Brian’s tongue so easily, it almost made him uncomfortable. ‘Would I be able to arrange an appointment for him with you next week? It would have to be after hours again, but-’

‘No problem.’ Jim quickly came to his sense and shoved the money in his pocket. ‘I can put him down for Friday if that works?’

‘Perfect! See you then.’

He all but dragged Roger out of the salon, wading through the small crowd of fans who had congregated outside the building after being tipped off about their presence, and quickly diving into the car waiting on the curb.

‘Not one word.’ He said between his teeth, as Roger flashed him a smirk that said, “I told you so.” (1/2)

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First of all, I am so sorry for posting this so late! I had a really busy day, and haven't had a moment to myself until now.

And now...

I FUCKING LOVE THIS! The earlier drabble by another anon was wonderful, and this one is equally good!

Lmao, I loved this line:

Brian motioned to the wad of gum stuck in his curls. ‘Going to need to take a chunk out of my head, I’m afraid. This one over hear thought it would be funny to use my skull as a school desk.’

Hahaha this was so damn funny, and sweet and oh god simply amazing!

(More drabbles by writer anon)