#me when the drabble gets longer than i intend: oops

[nonranghaes]

hyunjin feels the way your hand curls around his elbow, fingers pressing into his skin as you gently tug to get his attention. it flits away from the person he's talking to all too easily, and all it takes is you asking for a moment alone for him to agree to it. his heart is fluttering in his chest now as you guide him to the balcony, sliding the door open a little further so the two of you can slip through and stand out in the night air. it's slightly chilly, but he doesn't mind. not when he's next to you, a few steps away from the glass doors so that the two of you have privacy.

"so?" you rock on your heels, a little visibly nervous now. "did you like it?"

"i loved it." his voice is soft as he gazes at you. you'd thrown together a little party for him on short notice, complete with a batch of cupcakes that he found out from felix that you made for him yourself. "you didn't have to throw me a party."

you frown a little. "did you not want one?"

"that's not what i meant." he lowers himself onto the little outdoor sofa he helped chris pull up here an eternity ago, all for the promise of a warm meal when everyone else was too busy to help. the two had ended up sitting out here for hours, just enjoying the view. of course chris would let you use his place for this: it's his part in this plan, in making hyunjin feel loved. "i just meant... i know you did this last minute. and... i know it stressed you out. you don't have to put yourself through that."

"you're worth it." you settle next to him, hands in your lap. "i just... i really like spending time with you, hyunjin. and i like doing things for you, because you're sweet, and you're good at saying things i struggle with. you deserve the world." you look at him, gaze soft. there's something warm lingering in it.

and hyunjin realizes while you're rambling that things aren't as one-sided as he once thought. it's somewhere between you mentioning how much you love being around him when he lets you watch him indulge in his art and when you start talking about how you needed today to go perfect for him because he deserves it that it just hits him.

so he kisses you. just on the cheek (he's a romantic deep down, he thinks, and he doesn't want his first kiss with you to be right here where anyone could peek out and see and immediately yell back that the idiots have finally figured it out), but his lips linger against your skin for a few extra selfish seconds, and he thinks he can see the sparks as your brain short-circuits for a second when you go completely silent.

you turn to face him after a moment. "you...?"

he nods after a moment. "i do." his fingers curl around your hand, and he doesn't think much of it as he fans his fingers around his own wrist to slide a bracelet from his wrist to yours. it suits you more than him. "can i pick where we go?"

and you just nod. "i'd love that." but before either of you can move, you lean in, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "happy birthday, silly. i'm glad you're here."

[euphoricfilter]

hi love 💓 for the drabble game~ maybe to be festive hehe* "will you be my valentine?" or if not feeling that idea then maybe "oops, too late" with either namjoon or jungkook? au themes: dd/lg, vampire. ty in advance if possible to do ☺️ !

happy valentine’s day:

pairing: vampire! jungkook x vampire! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || established relationship || vampire au

summary: everyday is valentines day with jungkook

word count: 1.5k

tags/ warnings: fluff, soft vampy boyfriend! kook, mentions of blood/ consuming blood, injury that have been inflicted by jungkook on himself, slight dd/lg themes— he’s kinda just casually dominant and she’s very softy sub, manhandling, intended lowercase

notes: anything is possible my love!! so many options for me to choose from too, so i hope this is okay!! if you want me to write another with namjoon + the second sentence then let me know!! ~ prompts from this drabble game

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

���will you be my valentine?”

jungkook feels you stop gnawing at his neck, lips detaching from his skin with a wet pop, eyebrows creasing.

he can’t tell if it’s from confusion, or him disturbing you when you’d finally settled down for the night; the prettiest little pyjama set clinging to your body, and the fluffiest little fox clung between your arms. buzzing world outside your four walls muted by the low hum of the television, both your chests deflating in unison with each breath you took. 

the both of you so in-tune with one another that Jungkook often wonders if your hearts beat languid with one another, if his blood runs through your veins like he can feels yours flow through his. connection deeper than that of flimsy words that taste sweet on his tongue though never sweet enough; not as sweet as your blood when he drinks from dainty wrists and delicate arteries.

your lips were a pretty shade of pink that he expects matches the color of his neck, tender skin tickled against the cool air when you pull your face away far enough he can no longer feel your warm breath fanning over his skin.

with a recent visit to the doctors, your sharp canines had been filed down— a mean way to stop you from puncturing any more holes into your boyfriend’s skin.

he wasn’t fussed, never minded when you got a little carried away, cute little fangs always a little sore that you couldn’t help but bite down on his neck, teething on a shoulder, even an arm would do. you never had been too picky.

really anything to alleviate the throbbing ache in your gums; and precious things like you always get a little carried away, especially when your precious little fangs sink a little further than you’d intended. sweet blood coating your tongue until you’re lapping it up off jungkook’s skin until you’re sated a sleepy. always an accident though you never minded the outcome.

however, your doctor hadn’t been all too happy with this revelation, and you’d curled into Jungkook’s side when the both of you had been berated, with your legs kicking out anxiously from atop of the medical table. because as much as you wanted to drink your boyfriend’s blood until you dozed off in his lap with his hands tangled in your hair— cow’s blood was a lot more nutritional.

since then, the two of you had been figuring out ways to work around this little dilema. you still had sore gums, only this time the worst you could do was give Jungkook a hickey and then cry pitiful crocodile tears until he slashed his palm open and let you feed off his blood.

Jungkook was a weak man and he couldn’t bare to see you crying. not when you tugged at his sleeve, begging him to pull his sweater off so you could get a small taste, only for your blunt canines to nibble over his skin; unable to do anything other than chew until his skin was painted red and purple and you were left hungry and fussy. hard to settle down of a night time and grouchy in the morning when you had to wake up for an early lecture.

“valentine?” you ask, finger running over your bottom lip in thought.

“yes, my valentine specifically” he confirms, “what do you think, baby?”

you nod, eyes meeting his own and you can’t help the smile that curls onto your lips.

“why’d you look so unsure?” he whines, hands hooking under your arms, pulling you over his lap until your thighs are straddling his own— weight settled over his lap with grounding hands running up your sides until you shiver in sweet pleasure.

“i was just thinking” you start, fingers petting over the soft fur of your fox— a one year anniversary gift Jungkook had bought off a whim years ago, “you treat everyday like valentine’s day”

“that’s only because i love you” he coos, “and my pretty little baby deserves the best”

“i love you too” your nose scrunches up, a giggle bubbling up your throat when he presses a wet kiss to your cheek.

“yes to being my valentine then?”

“mmhmm” you nod, smile stretching out into a yawn.

“my sleepy baby” he croons, fingers brushing your hair from your face, “how about we get you to bed and kookie will plan you the best valentine’s day, yeah?”

he smiles against your forehead when you wrap your arms around his neck, “good girl”

Jungkook had always been meticulous with his planning, especially when it came to you. and when you’d told him he treated every day like valentine’s day, he took it upon himself to outdo what he does for you all the time.

you hadn’t seemed all that skeptical when he’d asked you to pick up next month’s worth of blood-bags alone— simply sending him a sticker in reply to his request without any further questions after your last lecture of the day.

he thinks you must have fully forgotten it was even valentine’s day to begin with when you open the door, eyes wide where he can’t tell if you’re simply overwhelmed or there’s little stars of interest dancing behind your irises.

“kook?” you ask, fumbling with the paper bag as you drop it on the kitchen table, any prior confusion morphing into pure wonder when you catch sight of the blankets laid out in the living room.

“hey baby” you jump, hand flying to your heart when your boyfriend almost skips out of the bedroom, arms piled with all your favorite plushies.

“is that from the bedroom?” you point to the mattress, eyes flitting between all the velvety blankets that shield the couch.

“yep” he smiles, dropping what you assume to be his second load of plushies onto the bedding, if the pile that already lined the back of the couch were any indication, “happy valentine’s day”

he presses a kiss to your forehead, arm weaving it’s way round your waist until your head knocks against his chest. heartbeat slowly thumping against your ear.

“you did all of this for me?” you tilt your head to look up at him.

“of course, i tried to bake cookies but they lost their shape, i thought you’d still like them with some milk”

“yes please” you nod, kicking your shoes off, Jungkook bending to pick them up— placing them beside his own by the front door before he’s slinking into the kitchen.

he places the plate in-front of you, keeping your cup of milk on the coffee table before he’s sitting down behind you, legs spread wide enough he has no problem tugging you between them.

“i tried salvaging them with icing, they don’t really look like hearts anymore” he cringes, hand running over the length of your thigh, fingers teasing the skin under your skirt.

“they’re pretty, thank you kookie” you tilt your head backwards, head knocking against his throat, and you can feel the vibration of his laugh when you place a gentle kiss to the stubble on the underside of his chin.

“i’m glad you like them” one of his hands hold your jaw, thumb brushing over delicate skin as you chew, humming as your feet wiggle; always happy when it comes to sweets.

“drink up, baby. hopefully this helps your pretty little fangs grow back stronger than before” he presses the cup to your lips, hold still firm on your head as he helps you tip it backwards; thumb brushing the little bit of milk that dribbles down your chin.

“they don’t hurt as much these days” you tell him, barely able to finish your sentence before you’re chewing on another cookie.

“do you think that teether helped?” he hums when you sink further into his chest.

you think about it for a moment, “maybe the ice one”

“i’ll buy you another one, they only had red last time— how about pink?”

“i like that”

“wanna hear my plan for the rest of the day?”

you blink, craning your neck to get a better look at his eyes, “plan?”

“this isn’t all we’re doing, i’ve planned the best valentines for my best girl”

“you’ve already done a lot for me though”

he presses a finger to your lips, “none of that. we’ll get you dressed all nice and pretty, i’ll even do your hair if you want, and then i called that little place in the park to make sure they’re open and you can pick whichever cake you want. and then we can open your gifts—“

“gifts?” you push yourself up, “what kind?”

“that’s a surprise, baby” he coos, firm kiss pressed to the corner of your lip, “and then i may or may not have bought you a new friend for bed and he’s all tucked in with your little fox”

“really?” you bounce a little, fingers grasping onto his arms, “thank you, thank you”

“come on” he pats your thigh, “kookie will dress you up in that cute pink dress you have and then we can go get cake and if you’re good then i’ll let you feed off me before bed”

💕 thank you for reading!! feedback is always encouraged, and happy valentines day!

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

[the-insomniac-emporium]

I love your writing.

if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.

the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤

I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.

Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.

(Under read-more for length)

Cassandra:

Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!

On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.

Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.

“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.

Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!

Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.

Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.

Bela:

If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).

Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.

More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.

Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.

Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.

Daniela:

Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.

Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).

Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.

Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.

Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.

Alcina:

“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.

That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.

Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.

More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.

Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.

Bonus! Mother Miranda:

Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.

Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.

You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.

Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.

Bonus! Donna:

Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.

For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.

Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.

Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣!𝔽𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕩 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! sub!felix x gn!reader. Pillowhumping, panty sniffing, exhibitionism?? (getting caught alright?), masturbation (m), orgasm (m), cum, dumbification, hickies, mommy/daddy kink, sliiight humiliation, sliiight fear kink. 

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1,6 k (oops...me intending on the series being drabbles)

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: clothes don’t have gender and so that is why this is gn!reader.

also sorry for everyone that wants to see felix as pure. we dont do pure in this household AKSHASJKASH

Felix looked up at the clock in boredom. 

“20 minutes left” 

He mumbled under his breath, impatiently shaking his leg as he zapped through multiple TV channels, trying to find something to pass time and distract from his ever growing that created a tent inbetween his legs. The minutes on the clock ticked unsufferably as his erection became harder to ignore. His hand trailed down his abdomen eventually landing on his bulge as he palmed himself through the rough fabric of his black jeans. Felix knew you’d be mad but his desire for release was stronger than his pride leading him to turn off the TV and sneaking into the bedroom. 

The room was a mess. Disorganised piles of papers and mugs that had been left in the window sill were crowding up the cozy room. With not a care in the world he stripped himself off his pants and underwear, pulling them down swiftly, causing his dick to spring free from their clothed prison. The pretty pink tip beaded with precum as veins cascaded down his length, the cold air brushing up against it causing shivers down Felix’s spine.  

He layed down in the unmade bed, shuffling under the covers as he took one of the many pillows that decorated the bed and straddled it, putting the soft fabric against his already twitching dick as he covered himself with the duvet. His sweet release waited for him but before he could begin humping the pillow like the dirty puppy he was Felix noticed something hanging off the side of the bed. He stretched his arm out to grab the piece of fabric, his gentle eyes widening upon realizing what he held in his grasp;

A pair of light pink lace panties.

He let out a questionable scoff, laughing at your disorganized self that happened to leave stuff everywhere, almost as if you made a trail with your belongings. Funny enough, those were Felix’s favorite panties on you. The thought of the semi-see through panties hugging your plump butt didn’t help with his painful erection that was resting against the pillow. 

Hesitantly, he lifted the fabric closer to his face, being hit with your familliar smell. His breath hitched, momentarily scared that you’d walk in and see him smelling your underwear like a creep. After many hesitant glances at the door he placed the soft fabric on the pillow, his sensitive head rubbing against it as he shifted in a quest to find a comfortable position. 

Small whines escaped his soft parted lips as his hips rolled against the pillow, the friction making Felix bunch up his fists. The contrast between the soft pillow beneath him and his rock-hard erection made the boy roll his head backwards, his neck on full display as his adams apple bobbed, harshly swallowing from the suspense his looming orgasm brought. 

“mhm,,, y-y/n,, j-just like that”

The horny boy kept on blabbering incoherently, occasionally forming a sentence as his pace increased, the crimson tip leaking with a string of precum, creating a wet patch on the pillowcase. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, more specifically of you naked, standing infront of him as you pushed him down onto the bed. How your hair fell in your face as you looked down at the poor boy that was whimpering for you wrapped around him, so desperatly wanting to be inside you. His whines turned to moans as his dick was helplessly rubbing against the pillow, imagining that you were here to see how dirty of a boy he is. 

“f-faster y/n,,, pleaseee~” 

His breathing got heavier as his orgasm was approaching faster than he thought, his abdomen tightening as a flash of heat spread throughout his body. His knuckles whitened upon holding the pillow, bunching up the fabric in his small hands. A haphazardly smile contorted on his lips that were now red from him biting them repeatedly, trying to stifle the loudest of many moans. 

Felix didn’t succeed in that since the faint moans hit your ears as soon as you stepped into house. This was unusual for Felix. He was always such a good boy for you, letting you ruin him however you pleased so for him to masturbate behind your back made you wonder how much he’d fantasied about you. 

“y-yn,,, im gonna c-cum,,, please” he stuttered out, his eyes tightly shut as his hips slamming against the pillow that was decorated with your panties.

“Don’t think so” you clicked your tongue, lifting up Felix’s face by his chin. A tiny shriek ensued in the room, Felix hopelessly pulling the covers in order to cover up his shameful act. 

“W-when did you...?” He tilted his head, confused and pale as a ghost. 

“Since when did you have a thing for panties?” you asked, pointing at the bit of lace fabric that was sticking out from under the duvet. A bright blush fanned out on his freckled cheeks, his hand hastly grabbing the fabric and hiding it inside of his duvet fort which he surrounded himself with. You laughed at his pathetic attempt to hide away from your sharp gaze. The weight of the bed shifted as you sat down, putting a hand on his back and smiling at him before you snatched the lace fabric from his grasp, making him throw himself after your now standing figure. 

“What? You want these?” you swinged the panties in front of his wide eyed face, his brows furrowed upon your humiliating laugh. 

“G-give them back!” he stammers nervously, his ears turning a deep shade of red as he looks up at you from the bed. 

“They’re even wet” you cooed at the boy, feeling the fabric in your right hand, looking briefly at the panties before looking at the blushing boy whose gaze had dropped to the carpeted floor.

“Did you cum, babyboy?” 

Your voice ringed in Felix’s head as he quickly shook his head, his sweet brown eyes filling with dispair, desperate to feel you. You inched closer to the boy, bending down to look in his teary eyes, his orgasm in ruins. 

“Open,,, ahh-” 

You grabbed his face in one hand, prying his mouth open by squeezing his hot cheeks. His eyes twinkled as his mouth opened, shoving the panties into him. He tried to complain, whining but only being able to get out a couple of muffled sounds. 

“You’re way prettier when you shut up, lixie” 

He nods diligently, quietly slipping his hand to his sore dick underneath the covers. The covers moved slightly from his hand pumping his length and it didn’t take much time until you realized what he was doing. Yanking the covers from him you saw his throbbing dick, his hand wrapped around it as the tip glistened in the light. His hand rested on the fluffy pillow as he swallowed harshly, scared of what cruel fate awaited him. 

“Ride it”

Your voice was deadpan. Fear crawled in Felix’s skin as his whole body froze. 

“You must be stupid babyboy, I said ride it” 

You tsked, putting an emphasis on the last two words to which Felix snapped out of his lewd thoughts, shaking his head slightly, causing the part of the panties sticking out of his mouth to shake with him. His hips timidly yet again rolled against the cushion, his arms shaking from supporting himself as he felt the contact he’d been yearning for, rutting infront of you like a puppy. His hair bounced in his face, the poor boy sweating bullets underneath your intense stare. 

The orgasm for earlier made it’s way back, causing a tight knot to form in his abdomen which could unravel at slightest touch. You traced lightly along his thigh with your fingertip, goosebumps forming on his skin as a couple of muffled whines were let out from between his soft lips. His inaudible murmur got louder, eventually calling out your name weakly. 

“mommy/daddy,,, p-please” 

He clenched his jaw, biting down brutally on the thin fabric as the tension in his stomach built up from your touch. You leaned down to the side of his head, putting your lips on his ear before nibbling on it slightly, your hand automatically wrapping around his flushed neck. The bed shook from his slamming of the hips, hunting down his heavenly release. 

“hnng,,,mhhhm,,” 

Felix was struggling to keep himself focused on not spilling his seed everywhere, wanting to appear perservering infront of you but failing as his body cowers over the pillow, rounding his shoulders. The poor boys shakes as his pace quickened, longwinded whines dripping down his fragile body. 

You could tell that he was close by the way his spine arched forward, the cold air hitting his already erect nipples. You moved down to his neck, placing light butterfly kisses over his warm neck, licking tiny strokes before placing your lovebites precisely, marking him as yours. The last couple of grinds were uneven, the red tip leaking all over the pillow as his dick pulsated. The knot in his stomach resolved, melting him into a whiny puddle of hormones. Felix’s entire body shook as the white liquid trickled down his tip and creating a wet stain on the pillow. The overwhelmed boy panted heavily, his figure leaning into your arms slowly, wanting nothing more but to cuddle and make you forget about his sinful action but you had other plans. As soon as the thousands of small sparks in his brain went out and his eyes were no longer clouded with lust you removed the panties from his mouth, the poor boy panting and coughing. 

“t-thank you,,, mommy/daddy,,, i’ll-”

You scoffed causing Felix to feel scared once again, scared that he’d done something wrong. The panties were now slightly damp, coated by his saliva and bunched up into a ball in your tight grasp. Felix’s doe eyes dilated upon hearing the words coming out of your mouth. 

“I’d think you’d cuter wearing these” 

[catwithangerissues]

𝐇𝐪 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞.

🌿 Hello! First post since the break baby! V glad to be back. Let’s start it off well, shall we?

-We all are brutally aware of the lack of representation in different fandoms and their writings- and while the Haikyuu fandom has been nothing but good to me personally, I thought making a mini series out of this could be a neat idea. The basic idea is take a hq character and write about the things they would do to help out/cheer up a significant other with a certain condition or disability.

- I marked each of the ones that personally affect me in my day to day life in case you’re interested.

- These are ways the hq characters HELP THEIR SO. This does not mean they treat them differently or lesser than others. Keep that in mind- scrubs.

- This by no means whatsoever fully encompasses what it’s like for any party involved to be in these romantic relationships- however, I do experience some of these conditions in my personal day to day and thought I did pretty well at writing those specifically. This does not mean I didn’t make mistakes in the rest, however. Please leave CONSTRUCTIVE AND NOT BLATANTLY RUDE CRITICISM if that’s the case. I did not intend to offend anybody, so keep that in mind.

Characters: Tendou Satori, Kita Shinsuke, Iwaizumi Hajime, Osamu Miya, Bokuto Koutaro, Hinata Shoyo, Tsukishima Kei, Sugawara Koushi, Suna Rintaro, Kuroo Tetsuro

Genre: Fluff/comfort

Warnings: mentions of blindness, deafness, eating issues, depression, anxiety, chronic migraines, wheelchair use, dyslexia, ADHD, and Insomnia. Established relationships.

- Tendou Satori with a blind significant other consists of his constant singing/humming around the house, or turning random household objects into makeshift instruments to both entertain you, and so you always know where he’s at and therefore doesn’t frighten you with his sudden presence. He reads things to you, usually describing various things you come in contact with in your day to day life that may not be so friendly to the blind. Letting you touch his face or body in order to get a mental image of his features, doing your hair or makeup and even picking an outfit if you ever ask, holding your hand and guiding you when you’re out or if you request it. He tries his best to continue learning new things to help out where he can, and the thought goes a long way. Bb Tendou ily

- *Kita Shinsuke being more than happy to spend quiet time with his deaf significant other, enjoying the process of learning sign language in order to surprise you, and communicate with you. He’s very thankful his grandmother taught him some growing up. He adores leaving love letters on your nightstand to find at random, and his gentle loving touches in the morning bring you to the day unlike an alarm. He enjoys laying you on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat, and always ensures he approaches you from the front, leaving soft touches on your skin as he twirls you around in the kitchen in the late evenings of your days spent together, smiling wide at the happy grin plastered on your face. This man is incredibly smart, and he continues to surprise you with new sweet gestures every single day.

(This one hits extremely close to home, so I apologize if it’s longer than the rest.)

- *Iwaizumi Hajime with a wheelchair bound significant other consists of many things. Like him happily pushing around your chair for as long as you’d like if you use a manual, or holding your hand as you drive around in your electric chair, always remembering to plug it in at night to charge too. He regularly finds extremely wheelchair friendly places to explore or visit, restaurants without stairs and large enough bathrooms and tables to make you comfortable, or parks and entertainment spaces where you can enjoy yourself without needing to worry about different terrain or judgmental strangers. Him always pressing the handicap door button for you, since he agrees that it’s incredibly disrespectful when more able people kick the button with their dirty shoe for seemingly no reason. It’s his willingness to carry you around bridal style all day if you get uncomfortable sitting for so long, or to give you a massage when you’re sore. Him giving you alone time when you request it, (because for some reason people think it’s okay to crowd wheelchair users all the time?), and chewing people out when they think it’s alright to touch your chair without permission. He does so much more, but unfortunately this drabble is getting a bit long. Though I’ll definitely be writing about this more in the future..

- *Osamu Miya is always mindful of his significant others eating issues, offering up healthy meals with portion sizes that your body both needs and enjoys each day. Making sure to text you a reminder to drink enough water when he’s away or working, or bringing you a glass randomly throughout the day while you were busy with your studies or career. He seems to always keep snacks he knows you enjoy in his car and office at work, and he always offers encouraging, honest advice about your progress and just how proud he is of you. 10/10 bb Osamu

- *Bokuto Kotaro with a significant other who struggles with anxiety, and his constant never ending support and reassurance. His strong arms wrapping around you in a big hug when you ask for them, his uncharacteristic whispers, usually of encouragement or funny stories to make you laugh and bring forward that beautiful smile of yours. It’s how he took the time in the beginning of your relationship to really ingrain the signs of your oncoming anxiety attacks into his brain in order to remove you from those situations as seamlessly as possible in the future. It’s his seemingly endless “I found a new thing that could help, baby! Wanna try?” phrases. How he bought weighted blankets and bubble bath in your favorite scent, and tea in your favorite flavor- always keeping them stocked in the house. It’s how he calls Akaashi at times to ask about what he does to help his own anxiety, and how learning about yours transforms his treatment towards his family, friends, and even shy fans who admire the loud boisterous man, but are too scared to approach him for the same reasons. It’s when he crouches down next to a small child and gently holds their hand, quietly telling them that it’s okay to be anxious sometimes and not to worry. (I went off here- oops)

- *Hinata Shoyo always being helpful and loving when it comes to your depression. Encouraging you every day and reassuring you that you’re doing so well. It’s him bringing you glasses of water or snacks throughout the day to ensure you eat and drink enough, and offering to take bubble baths with you and wash your hair if you’d like, since it can be hard for some to motivate themselves to do that with depression. Him helping you with work or studies in order to take some of the load off of you, even with his busy schedule. It’s how he cuddles you at night, if you’re okay with it, and tells you how proud and happy he is to have you in his life. Him being a ball of sunshine that makes you smile everyday, and taking you on dates he knows will bring happiness to your day. (I will be writing more about this soon too!)

- Tsukishima Kei is always helpful when it comes to his significant others dyslexia. Offering to read things for you, or helping to keep track of small details when you request those of him. He’s always there to comfort you when you’re feeling insecure, and he not-so-secretly really enjoys when you ask him to help with your work or studies, even when they have to do strongly with numbers or extensive reading, he enjoys spending the time with you, it feels intimate to him. Similarly, calming you down or comforting you whenever/if ever you become overwhelmed, or reading a book you seemed really interested in to you at night before snuggling up in bed.

- *Sugawara Koushi and his mix of calm and chaotic nature that pairs well with his significant others ADHD. How he’s always helping keep track of ideas and such, or just generally being a good listener. He knows how frustrating it can be to forget something important. He’s always so down for spontaneous shit too. Wanna paint a room at 4am? Let’s go get the paint. Want to bake cookies and learn the basics of guitar while you wait for them to bake? He’s got one around here somewhere. It’s how he’s thankful he chose being a school teacher as a career path, because keeping you on track for work and school/leaving little reminders to do those things becomes second nature for him. As chaotic as he himself is, he’s always there to comfort you when you’re feeling insecure, and reminding you to take your medication if you take any. He enjoys taking you on walks to clear you mind, and often goes out to buy you notebooks and sticky note to write things down for whenever he isn’t there to help you out. Suga bb ily you’re doing great sweetie

- *Suna Rintaro and his significant other with insomnia, finding himself thanking his professional athlete training schedule that keeps his own sleep on track unlike in high school, so he can drag you to bed and hold you close to him whenever you’re struggling to sleep. It’s him learning of all the different things around the house he can do to help, like making sure all the screens in your home have a blue light filter, and ensuring any caffeine or sugar are tucked away into the kitchen cabinets to avoid temptation. It’s him running you a hot bath with lavender or vanilla, and giving you massages when you ask for them, buying fluffy blankets and comfy socks for you occasionally when he’s out. Him being willing to stay awake all night with you until you fall asleep, or taking you out for a late night/early morning walk to the park, and his gentle morning touches that first wake you everyday.

- *Kuroo Tetsuro always being mindful of his significant other with chronic migraines. It’s him turning off all the lights whenever he starts to notice your signs of one coming on, and making as little noise as he possibly can when maneuvering around the house while you’re attempting to sleep one away. It’s how when you wake up he’s giving you massages and bringing you medication with a glass of water, if you take any. How he’s always ready to run you hot baths, or showers if you’d prefer, and making sure to keep the house stocked up on scented/unscented products that won’t aggravate your headache more. It’s him ensuring you eat and drink enough, and bringing you caffeine in the early morning hours to help keep the pain away. Him quietly bringing you hot rags to place over your forehead, and putting blue light filters on all the devices in the house. If they get too bad, he’s driving you to the doctors when needed, or just generally comforting you. His own busy schedule helps in dragging you to bed to get enough rest, and he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy helping you with your work and/or studies- the nerd in him just can’t help it.

🌿 If you guys enjoy this content, I will gladly write more! Please let me know what you think cause this has been racking my brain for a while🥴 I’ll be back to posting regular content soon if you haven’t seen my apology post for my absence/impromptu break for my mental health!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @sunalma @toworuu @livy384

Check out my other works!

© catwithangerissues 2021 - do not repost, edit/alter, plagiarize or claim any works as your own.

[atsukashii]

Hi! I love your writing so very much 🥰

For the event, could I possibly get: Tirza x Midoriya + she/her pronouns + ☀️ + green

Thank you thank you 🥺💕☺️

how long do I have to wait how many nights do I have to pass

✘ he was the one who got away, but now the number one pro hero has returned to japan, and come home to you

✘ GENRE: fluff

✘ WARNINGS: none

✘ WORD COUNT: 1.4k

To the world the name Izuku Midoriya was synonymous with the pro hero Deku. But to you, Izuku Midoriya is synonymous with sorrow, desperation and hurt. To you, Izuku Midoriya is the one who got away.

You’d been by his side since elementary school, where Katsuki Bakugou had coined the name Deku, which caught on in the opposite way than what he had initially intended it to be interpreted. You had been friends with the shy, hero crazed boy who had helped you draw your hero costume and equipment when you had decided you both were going to be pro heroes. You had been by his side as this quirk he was supposedly ‘born-with’ had manifested. And you knew, from the moment you saw All Might talking to him, just who’s quirk he had inherited.

You had been by Izuku’s side from your earliest memories, and you had loved him for as long as you could remember. You’d loved him for so long, and you were planning on telling him the moment you had finished your studies but never got the chance, because he’d left for the U.S a day later, working at an agency courtesy of Professor David Shield. And you had let him go, and took your heart with him.

Those six months had turned into three years, and now he was back.

“Can you please at least say hello to him? That’s all I'm asking here,” Your friend Ochako pleads from next to you, and you finally turn away from the bar to face her. You had been dragged out to a bar by your friend, only to discover the whole thing was an official ‘welcome home’ party for your first love that you hadn’t seen in years. So you’d reacted like any mature person, and hidden amongst all the bodies at the bar, cradling the same glass of water because you had work tomorrow and couldn’t afford to turn up hungover.

“I will,” you reply, looking over across the room at the green haired man laughing along with a bunch of your old high school friends. You give Ochako a pointed look as you swirl back around on your stool. “Later.”

“For fucks sake, even Bakugou is over there. Ba-ku-gou!” She combats, waving her hands to emphasise her point.

“Good for him.” She huffs out a breath of frustration at your antics but really, you don’t want an audience when you first talk to him, because you don’t know what is going to come out of your mouth. Will it be what your heart wants to say, that you missed him every single minute he was gone, or your head, where you’ll just simply say welcome back and move on with your life. You weren’t willing to take that gamble in front of your closest friends.

“Go have fun, I’ll talk to him later, I promise.” You swear, and even hold out your pinky which makes your friend let out a shocked laugh.

“Why don’t I believe you?” she asks, and you simply shrug, watching as she shifts through the crowd towards the table and the star of honour. The minute you know you’re out of eyesight and earshot, you leave your glass on the table, grab your jacket and sneak out the side door of the complex. Inhaling the chilled night air, you hesitate in the alleyway of the bar, letting yourself revel in the silence of the outside world. Getting used to having Izuku was going to take a while, especially considering he would no doubt be visiting his mother, who still lives next door to your own. You could never escape him, and why should that change even if you want it to? You only take a step further into the alleyway before the door bangs open behind you.

“Y/n?” His voice is deeper than you remembered it, but then again, he had been only a high school graduate when you’d spoken to him last. Slowly you turn around to face him, taking in Izuku’s face one inch at a time. Freckles still dusted his nose and cheekbones, and those deep emerald green eyes still glowed like sea glass - stop, you mentally plead. Don’t go down this road.

“I thought it was you. I saw Uraraka talking to you at the bar, and I wanted to see you before you left.” He’s taller too. You’d been the same height through most of your schooling, but now he towered over you by at least a foot. As Izuku stops under the dim light on the wall, you notice the undercut he now has and hate how it makes goosebumps break out on your skin.

“How have you been?” He asks, one of his hands clutching his other wrist in a nervous tick that holds your attention. How have you been? How have you been… miserable, lonely, lovesick, missing you… but you can’t say that. So instead you muster all the confidence in you to tell him the opposite, that you’ve been fine.

“I-” Your voice breaks on the word and you feel the world around you freeze. Your heartbeat echoes through your head and the happiness on Izuku’s face shatters and pain flickers to life in his eyes as he looks at you. A scarred hand reaches up and gently caresses your cheek and only then do you notice that you’re crying.

And the moment you recognise their existence, your chest heaves and you burst at the seems. The gruttal sob that leaves your lips has Izuku lunging forward and bringing you into his arms. Burying your face into his chest, you don’t try to stop what you’re feeling, and just let it run its course as you listen to him talk.

“I’m so sorry Tirza.” He repeats over and over like a mantra, softly running his hand over your hair whilst holding you close to his chest. Once your sobs cease and your tears slow do you finally trust yourself to talk.

“I missed you,” you get out, stepping out of embrace so that you can look at him properly, and gage his every reaction. If you’re going to get your heart ripped out, you’d at least like to try and see it coming.

“I missed you so much, but I couldn’t tell you. I missed you, but I was so proud and happy for you, because you were doing what you loved and even though I loved you, I didn't want to try and take you away from what you were born to do.” You try to explain, knowing you're making a mess of it all, but still trying to get it all off your chest. Izuku’s green eyes blink at you owlishly for a second, and fear enters your body for a second. But only for a second.

Because in the next, Izuku has your hand in one of his, and his lips on your own. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sudden affection, and you carefully place your hands on his shirt to push him away? To pull him closer? You’re unsure, but when he finally pulls back and looks down at you with so much adoration, your heart almost stops in your chest.

“I’m so sorry I left. I wanted to tell you how I felt back in highschool, but then I got offered a placement in the U.S. I almost didn’t take it too, but then I knew you would kick my ass if I didn’t,” Izuku rambles and you nod, knowing fully well that you would have. “And then I was going to come back after six months but they asked me to stay longer, and then I came to visit, but your mother said you hadn’t been back home since you graduated.” You cringe at the memory, knowing you hadn’t gone back because you didn’t want to be asked about him.

“But I get it.” Izuku finishes, pushing your stray hair back from your face. “It’s the same reason I went and sat on the beach when I missed home.” Because across it was you. “I’ve loved you since I was in middle school, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” You let out a shocked laugh at his words, which turns into a soppy one as you grin at the man in front of you. He was home, that’s all you’d wanted, and now it was staring you in the face. Him. It had always been him.

“I love you Izuku. So so much.” You say, crying into your laughter as he joins you.

“We’re idiots for waiting this long,” He groans, leaning his head on your shoulder, and another laugh slips from your mouth, but one that actually has you smiling.

“The biggest idiots to ever live.”

a/n: Thank you for your kind words anon, you get a big MWUAH from me :)  i didn't mean for this to have an angsty start, but oops... also i think these are getting longer and longer. Note to self, you can't write short drabbles for shit. Looks like its full length fics for me

✘ EVENT STATUS : OPEN  ✘

[frogtanii]

hi! noah anon here again, um ahaha, i may have been inspired to write a part 2 to my previous atsumu hurt/comfort drabble, i hope that's okay! ive been living for protective!y/n ever since they fought meiko for suga, so i wanted to sort of portray that!

-

from the way atsumu's breathing had evened out, you assumed he'd finally fallen asleep. exhaustion from the rough night he had taking over as he laid in your bed, wrapped up in your comforting embrace. atsumu's forehead rested in the crook of your neck and his nose pressed up against your collarbone, soft breaths tickling the sensitive skin. his arm laid across your stomach, keeping you close. for the first time since he walked into your room that night, he looked peaceful.

you on the other hand, were pissed; still stewing with rage over the events of the night. the main target of your aggression being none other than miya osamu himself. how could someone be so cold to their own twin?

the more you thought about it, the more restless you got, a pit of frustration growing and twisting uncomfortably in your gut. laying still was starting to prove a difficult task. with all of this frustrated energy you just needed to move — do something, before you went insane. so as carefully as you could, you slipped out from under atsumu, gently pushing a pillow under him for support.

shutting your door as quietly as possible you padded your way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and an aspirin for atsumu. he'd probably need it for when he woke up, and it was the perfect excuse to get up and move around. however, as you neared the kitchen, you noticed a figure searching through the snack cabinets, grey hairs poking out into your field of vision. of course now of all times you'd run into the object of your current frustration. did you universe hate you or something?

just ignore him, you thought to yourself, no sense in getting into a conflict tonight.

as quietly as possible, you pulled a glass cup from the cabinet and filled it up with water. you had asprin in your room, so there was no need to grab any from the common area. your next objective was to exit the kitchen as quick as possible before your urge to punch osamu in the face increased any more. at this moment, his mere presence was enough to up your anger levels.

however, the second you spun on your heels to leave, osamu was also making his way out of the kitchen, causing the two of you to almost collide. luckily osamu reacted quickly, stepping back and preventing anything from being spilt.

"fucking watch it!" he spit out, expression twisting into one of contempt.

you scoffed at his outburst, ready to hit him with a few choice words, but by the time your lips parted he was already storming out of the kitchen and into the living room. a high pitched voice could be heard when he entered, sending another wave of fury coursing through your veins. "thank you 'samu, you're the best!"

"of course baby," osamu responded, "now let's start our movie."

the noise of some cheesy romance movie soon filled the living room and all surrounding areas, way too loud for this late of an hour in your opinion. it only added to your irritation, and without even thinking you were marching yourself to the living room with conviction, glass of water left behind on the kitchen island.

usually you never sought out trouble, and you weren't too fond of confrontation when it could be avoided. in the beginning of your time in the hyper house, maybe, but as time passed you soon learned nothing you said would change anything. so to save some sanity you resorted to short quips and just plain ignoring your housemates, once your contract was up none of it mattered anymore anyway. but after holding atsumu for an hour while he sobbed, and osamu's entitled attitude, something in you snapped. fuck being the bigger person.

so with your shoulders back and head held high you stormed into the living room, snatching the remote from coffee table to pause the movie playing.

that certainly grabbed their attention.

"the fuck is yer problem?" osamu vetted, standing to square up to you, fists clenched at his side and jaw tense. meiko followed suit, but took her position slightly behind osamu, nimble fingers gripping his bicep.

"my problem? hmm let's see, maybe my problem is the fact that i just held your brother as he cried himself to sleep while you were out here cuddled up on the couch!"

meiko snickered from behind him, and you had to stop yourself from lunging at her. how dare she laugh at his pain?

"'tsumu's fine, he'll get over it. now leave so we can watch our movie." your eyes went wide at osamu's response. did he really not care?

"he's your brother, and you hurt him." the annoyed expression on osamu's face fell slightly at your statement, but he quickly recovered, expression morphing into one that could kill.  "don't act so innocent, you were probably in there twisting his mind with your little lies. you know everything that's happened between us has been your fault? you're the one that turned him against me!" his voice was gradually increasing him volume and malice, you obviously getting under his skin.

"oh please, you're still telling yourself that?" you inched closer to the pair, chin lifting up to meet osamu's steely glare, your attempt at intimidation working only on the small woman behind him.

"'samu, shes scaring me, please make her leave," meiko whimpered. Osamu placed a protective arm around her, pulling her into his side, "don't worry baby, i won't let her near you." you rolled your eyes at meiko, her feigned fear sending your patience over the edge.

"oh shut up, meiko," you snapped, causing her to coward further into osamu.  "hey, don't talk to her like that!" he shot back at you, eyes darkening as he towered over your form, but you refused to back down.

"i'm texting iwaizumi, he can make her leave." meiko began typing furiously on her phone.

you chose to ignore her, prioritizing getting in your final words before iwaizumi could come to their resuce. "you've got your head completely up your ass if you think anyone but yourself is to blame for your broken relationship with 'tsumu!"

"you have no right to—"

"what the hell is going on here?" iwaizumi stormed into the room, large arms crossed over his chest as he placed himself between you and your victims.

"iwa, thank god! me and 'samu were trying to watch a movie when y/n just came in here and started attacking us! it was so scary, please make her leave!"

you scoffed at meiko's fabricated story, but before you could even begin to defend yourself iwa spoke, "y/n, go back to your room before im forced to take action." despite his dagger sharp gaze, you refused to shrink. you were going to get your point in regardless of any threats iwaizumi threw your way. so shooting him a quick and dismissive glare, you turned your attention back to osamu and meiko to get in one final blow.

"look, i don't know what your problem with me is, and frankly i don't care. but leave atsumu the fuck out your sick little games." the venom in your voice was enough to strike real fear into meiko, who was now completely hiding behind osamu for protection. even osamu's intimidating demeanor faltered at your protectiveness over his brother.

iwaizumi was the first to break the tension, "y/n, go—"

"yeah yeah, i got it, im leaving." your cut him short, giving osamu one last glare before exiting the living room, stopping to grab the glass of water from the kitchen before heading back to your room.

in your frustration you'd completely forgotten atsumu was asleep, accidentally shutting your door back with a little too much force. "angel?" atsumu's sleep drenched voice pulled you from your stewing thoughts, and you felt any and all anger melt away when you locked eyes with him.

"where'd you go off to?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up. you snatched a bottle of asprin from your night stand and extended it to him along with the glass of water, "figured you'd want this when you woke up."

the corner of his mouth lifted up into a lopsided smile as he accepted your offer, downing a pill and half the water in one go, "yer too good to me, angel."

you offered up a soft smile as you took the glass and pill bottle back from him and set them on your nightstand. you took a seat on your bed next to atsumu, pushing back his disheveled hair back with one hand, prompting him to let out a content hum.

"i'm sorry for waking you," you whispered, letting your hand trail down the side of his face before coming to rest against his jaw, "how are you feeling?"

atsumu leaned into your touch, "much better, thanks to you. but, can we lay down again?"

you nodded, falling back to a laying position with atsumu following suit. however, this time he pulled you into his chest, holding you in his arms. you sunk further into him, finding it much easier to sleep this time as his warmth surrounded you and calmed your nerves.

-

i got a little carried away and this ended up a little longer than i intended, oops, oh well! i hope you like it!

— noah anon

hhhh,,, BESTIE OMFG UR SO SO SO TALENTED WTF???? do u have a blog cs if so sharty drop the @ ahaha (jk only if u feel comfy!!) i just mean WOW WOW WOW WOWIE

[malecacidd]

Omg omg omg uhhhh

Luke/Bobby dizzy (make YOU torture them instead of me for once 😉😉)

OH HOW THE TABLES HAVE TURNED. I don't know if you'd consider this torture, but it is fairly angsty, and that's what matters

Also this is,,, definitely longer than a drabble but I couldn't HELP IT. I am a sucker for angst and I love them. Anyways it's 1k words,,, oops.

Send me a ship/dynamic and a one word prompt and I'll write a drabble!!

--

Luke couldn't think.

He could feel his feet pushing hard against the pedals of his bike, the wind whipping his hair around and nearly knocking his beanie off. He could hear his harsh breathing, partly from the biking and mostly from the hyperventilation that started the moment his heart began to best faster than usual while he was talking to his mom. He could see the road in front of him as he moved down it, the drivers flipping him off as they swerved around him when he couldn't move out of the way in time. He could feel, hear, see, but he couldn't think.

He wasn't even sure where he was going, he just knew that he was getting away. Away from his mom, away from their argument and away from that house.

His head felt so fuzzy. The only thing in it was static. Loud, annoying, frustrating static that took over everything that even tried to make it to the forefront of his mind.

The way he was breathing was starting to make him light headed, but he didn't slow down and sighed in relief at the sight of the garage up ahead. So that's where his feet were taking him.

He wasn't surprised.

All he did was pedal even faster at the sight, sighing in relief once again when he saw that the lights were on. That meant Bobby was there. That meant safety and home and warm was there.

When he finally made it to the studio, he jumped off of his bike, immediately rushing forward and slamming the garage door open much more loudly than he intended, stopping the calm tune Bobby was playing on his guitar and making him look up in surprise. Luke just stood there, staring blankly at the wall behind Bobby and attempting to control his breathing.

In some corner of his mind, he recognized Bobby gently leaning his guitar against the wall and moving cautiously forward. He saw his lips move, maybe in the shape of his name, but he couldn't bring himself to respond. His thoughts were completely muddled, and the only thing that existed was that damn static.

He faintly felt hands cupping his cheeks, could sense Bobby's eyes on him, but he couldn't even begin to think about whatever that meant before the gesture started to clear the static away, filling his head with words that were said in the argument and feelings of guilt and just as he was starting to wish for the static to come back instead of the harsh words Bobby shook his head slightly, calling his name out again, and for the first time since he had arrived he turned to meet his eyes.

The quick clearing of the static in his brain and the immediate onslaught of awful thoughts hurt his head, and he swayed slightly where he stood, grabbing Bobby's shoulder to steady himself. Bobby moved one of his hands off of his cheek, but before he could mourn the loss of the touch the hand was on his waist and steadying him further. Suddenly, the words Bobby was speaking finally reached his ears, and Luke could only lean further into his touch in an attempt to seperate himself from his thoughts and the remaining bits of static, trying to focus solely on Bobby.

"Luke," He said, probably a repetition from before, and to him Bobby sounded as if he was underwater, his words muffled, "Luke, are you okay? What's wrong? What do you need?"

It took a moment for him to comprehend the meaning of his words, but when he finally managed to, the only thing he could get out was a mumbled, "'m dizzy."

Bobby moved quickly at the words, letting go of Luke to move towards the couch after having him lean against the doorframe, and Luke whimpered at the separation.

"Hey, it's fine, just let me fix the pullout, okay? I'll be back in a second. You're okay," Bobby said, and Luke wrapped his arms around himself, shivering despite the fact that it was summer, and closed his eyes, willing away the dizziness and leaning his head against the doorframe as he swayed slightly, trying his hardest to keep himself on his feet.

After hearing the creak of the old couch and several quick footsteps, there were suddenly hands back on his waist and he melted into the touch, leaning fully into Bobby and resting his head on his chest.

"Hey- it's okay," Bobby started, "We just gotta move to the bed okay? You'll feel better when you lay down." Luke just squeezed his arms tighter around him, afraid if he let go he would immediately tumble to the ground, and Bobby moved one of his hands to Luke's head, running his hand through his hair. "I'll lay with you okay? Come on, we have to get there first."

It didn't take too long for them to make it to the couch, Bobby practically carrying Luke the whole way, and he collapsed into it, grabbing onto Bobby's hand when he tried to pull away.

Bobby squeezed the hand lightly, "I'll be back, I'm just gonna get some water," He said, and Luke reluctantly let go, looking like a kicked puppy as he did so.

He knew that he was being clingy and acting weird, knew that he should probably feel embarrassed or guilty for taking up Bobby's space, but there wasn't room for anything in his brain that wasn't the lightheaded-ness, and he flopped his hand to his forehead, pressing down in hopes that it would help some.

Bobby ended up coming in a minute later, out of breath from how quickly he was moving and a bottle of water in hand. He say down on the pullout next to Luke, chuckling lightly at the way he immediately turned to cuddle up in his lap. He moved the cold bottle so that it was resting against his cheek, and Luke sighed, seemingly as content as he could be.

It took a long time for the dizzy feeling to go away, and it took even longer for Luke to tell Bobby what was going on, but he got there eventually, and Bobby was there for him the entire time, ready and willing to give him the love that he needed and deserved.

--

I LOVE THEM

[snapdraqons]

lonelyeyes 31 lonelyeyes 31 🤲

Give me a prompt+ship and I'll write a short fic/drabble

31- "Are you drunk?"

“Are you drunk?”

It’s a stupid question really. Elias is a professional, dignified man who wouldn’t be caught dead sitting in his ex-husband’s lap at an Institute fundraiser. And yet here he is, nursing what must be his fourth or fifth flute of champagne, doing exactly that. His face is pink, flushed from the tip of his nose all the way up to the ends of his ears, and is buried in Peter’s collar, his breath hot and shaky against his neck.

“No,” he answers, sounding far too cocky for a man who’s got himself drunk at a formal event that he’s hosting. Peter sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Can you at least get off my lap?” he asks, this time adding a forcefulness to his voice that he doesn’t usually use lest his (for now) ex-husband use his horrible Beholding powers in retaliation, “People are staring.”

Elias snorts at this, incredulous, then lets out an extremely unprofessional, undignified giggle. “No, they’re not, darling,” he drawls, “And even if they were, is that really such a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t finish, Peter,” he interrupts him, “Even if people were staring, is it really such a bad thing? It’s perfectly normal for a man to show his husband affection, is it not?”

Peter opens his mouth to respond, furrows his brow, then closes it again. There are several things wrong with Elias’ statement - which is odd, because Elias hates being wrong. First of all, people are staring; a woman whom Peter vaguely recognises as an Institute receptionist (Rose? Rosa? Rosie? He never was good with names) and a man who, according to Elias, will almost definitely be joining the Archival team soon, are struggling not to laugh as they, too, down their fourth or fifth glasses of champagne. Secondly, nothing about Peter and Elias’ relationship is normal. From the three separate marriages and divorces to the whole “Servants Of Evil Fear Gods” thing, they’re not exactly your typical married couple. And finally, and most importantly, the two of them aren’t married. After a minute or so silently deliberating with himself, Peter decides to address the latter of the three inaccuracies in Elias’ statement.

“Elias,” he tells him, picking his words carefully, “We got divorced two years ago,”

His ex-husband seems surprised at this, pulling away from his neck and furrowing his brow in confusion. “Wait, what?” he says, hiccups, then, “...Oh, you’re right.” He sighs sadly, downs the rest of his champagne, then lays his head back on Peter’s shoulder. “That’s a shame,” he muses, “I like being married to you.”

This makes Peter chuckle and he raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Do you now?”

“Yes,” Elias replies, indignant, “I like being with you, I think. Just because you never used to put your mugs in the dishwasher or you’re awful to have a conversation with, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you.” He sighs, and this time he sounds positively miserable. “But I like spending time with you. Plus, you’re handsome. I like men with facial hair.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a laugh, but his voice falters and breaks at the end and within seconds Peter is finding himself desperately shushing his ex-husband as he drunkenly sobs and snivels into his jacket. 

“-I can’t stand you,” he laments, “I hate you so much because I love you and I hate being away from you. I didn’t think I’d still have these emotions after so long, I hate it and I… I just… I wish I could stop.”

Peter wants to give him fake, sugar-coated support. He wants to pat him on the head and tell him it’s okay, he’s just drunk too much and needs to get to bed. He wants to put on a sickeningly sweet show of affection just to embarrass him and rub it in his face when he sobers up. But he can’t. Instead, he finds himself swallowing down the lump in his throat, nausea swirling in his stomach. If he’d been drinking, Peter would have tipsily let slip that he feels the same, that the Loneliness he feels when he’s away from him is just as painful as it is delicious. But he hasn’t been drinking, and he’s not about to be vulnerable like that - not with so many people watching. So instead, he waves over the receptionist (whose name he’s still not entirely sure of) and politely asks her to call a cab, rubbing his ex-husband’s back as he does.

By the time the taxi pulls up outside Elias’ apartment building he’s already asleep, Beholding powers and 200 years experience doing nothing to hinder the effects of the alcohol currently running through his veins. Peter pays for the cab, for once deciding against sending the driver to the Lonely,  then picks his ex-husband up and carries his sleeping body to his flat. 

As he enters the apartment, Peter pauses to look at himself in the hallway mirror. Elias is curled up in his arms, bridal style, face buried into his neck and arms slung haphazardly around his shoulders. As they’d left the taxi, the driver had innocently commented on what a doting husband he was, and looking at their reflection Peter can see why. He curses himself and silently says asks his god to forgive him to leaning into such… romantic gestures, before carrying Elias Bouchard to his room and tucking him - three-piece suit and all- into bed. He hesitates before he kisses him on the forehead, mutters a soft ‘I love you’ that’s heard by him and him alone, before finally retreating to The Lonely.

This is the last time he lets Elias get drunk - until their next wedding, that is.

--

This was longer than I intended oops

[collapse-and-comfort]

Prompts you say? If you want to/it intrigues you - any (and all) Geralt whump would be amazing! As far as a specific prompt - maybe something involving poisoning? Something lethal to humans and not-so-fun for Witchers? But only if you want to! -@sick-bae

Oh, my goodness!!! Thank you, @sick-bae for the amazing prompt! Sorry it took me so long (roughly forever) to write it! I meant to make it a drabble. (Oops!) Here is a bunch of Geralt whump for the sake of Geralt whump! I hope you enjoy!

It also helped me fill another @badthingshappenbingo square! (View my BTHB Card.)

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix)

Whumpee: Geralt of Rivia

Caretaker: Jaskier

Pairing: None

Squire Filled: Delirium 

Word Count: 3,303

Jaskier sat in their little camp and plucked at his lute’s strings. The tune was flippant, atonal nonsense but Jaskier stopped and started again as though he’d made a mistake.

This is taking too long, he thought as the sun slipped below the horizon.

He nudged away the familiar pang that came with being unable to do anything in these situations. He continued to strum, and imagined the thing Geralt was hunting -a creature that was feline and reptilian in grace and appearance. It was difficult not to find inspiration in that horror, though. His fingers sussed out a new rhythm. He looked into the fire and wondered if the creature's eyes were similar in color, how Similar to Geralt’s.

Jaskier stopped abruptly when the brush to his left rustled. He gripped the neck of the lute tightly and jumped.

“You’re back,” Jaskier said as he huffed out self-deprecating laughter, but gave a smile that insisted he knew it was Geralt all along. “You really-”

Something was wrong. 

The fact Jaskier had heard Geralt approach was testament to that fact. Geralt’s steps were slow. His right hand held his ichor-slicked silver sword, and he kept his left arm across his abdomen. Jaskier couldn’t see the blood very well against the dark fabric of Geralt’s tunic, but he could see that the hand covering the wound was stained crimson.

Jaskier set his lute down, stood and walked closer without bothering to brush the dirt from his clothes. In the pale evening light, Jaskier could see the sheen of sweat covering Geralt’s face. In the back of his mind, Jaskier wondered where Geralt’s armor was.

“Hey,” he said as he reached out to take the sword, or help in some way. He wasn’t really sure.

“Leave it,” Geralt growled as he slumped against a tree. He winced and swallowed hard.

Jaskier would not be so easily rebuffed. He let Geralt take a couple of breaths before walking over and taking a soft hold of Geralt’s forearm with one hand, and the sword’s pommel with the other.

“Is it dead?”

“Hmm,” Geralt said by way of confirmation.

“Then let go,” Jaskier said.

It was not a request. He supposed it might have been an imitation of Geralt. Jaskier squeezed his forearm lightly. Geralt, for his part, looked at Jaskier with annoyed resignation as he uncurled his fingers and let Jaskier relieve him of his weapon.

Without taking his eyes off of Geralt, Jaskier carried the sword and placed it by Geralt’s things. He opened his mouth to lament Roach’s absence when Geralt heaved himself away from the tree trunk and tried to walk. One step, then another that faltered. Jaskier closed the distance between them and caught Geralt under the arms before gravity could claim him. It must have pulled the wound; Geralt gave an abrupt, pained grunt.

“Sorry,” Jaskier said as he helped Geralt right himself.

He nudged his way under Geralt’s left arm and was surprised by the heat Geralt’s body was putting off.

“You’re so warm.”

Geralt leaned more heavily on Jaskier, but said nothing.

“Come on,” Jaskier said as he took as he took a step.

Geralt’s movements shadowed Jaskier’s as they made their way to Geralt’s bedroll. The going was slow and with each step, Geralt leaned more heavily on Jaskier. They paused when they reached the bedroll. Jaskier struggled for something to say. Expressions of concern were jumbled with glib proclamations about how heavy Geralt was. He settled on silence and focused on settling Geralt. Jaskier’s knees threatened to buckle, and he felt the strain in his back, but he didn’t let go until Geralt was on the ground.

Jaskier huffed out a breath and smiled at how close he’d come to toppling. His smile was short lived, though. Jaskier had expected Geralt to begin rumaging through his pack and begin the process of making himself well. But Geralt sat there, jaw clenched, with his hand still holding his side.

“You’re hurt,” Jaskier said.

His words didn’t spur Geralt into action, but it did earn him a half hearted scowl.

“I'm allowed to indulge in stating the obvious every once in a while,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Thirsty,” Geralt said.

Jaskier was used to Geralt answering with sounds, gestures, or monosyllabic words, but his voice was quieter than it should have been; he sounded so worn. Jaskier located Geralt’s water and handed it to him. Geralt drank from the skin with the urgency of someone who had been stranded in a desert. Geralt’s breathing escalated with the effort, and Jaskier watched with both worry and morbid fascination as some of the water ran down Geralt’s chin and onto his chest. Geralt exhaled harshly when he was done. He let the water skin fall from his hand, then scrubbed a broad palm over his face and winced.

The longer Geralt took to make a move for his pack, the more nervous Jaskier became. He couldn’t see the extent of the wound on Geralt’s side, but that seemed like as good a time as any to mention it.

“We should get that cleaned,” Jaskier said.

Geralt made no move for his things. He just sat there, staring forward with his jaws clenched, sweat on his face beading anew.

“Do you need a potion, or-”

“No.”

Geralt’s voice was flat and impatient, but not angry enough to dissuade Jaskier from pressing the issue.

“What can I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Geralt said as he looked up at Jaskier.

Jaskier guessed he was trying to glare, but Geralt looked too tired to muster any real menace. Jaskier frowned, but quickly marshalled his expression.

“If I were an insecure person, I might think that remark was about my value as a travelling companion.”

“The venom,” Geralt said as he bowed his head and moved it from side to side as though he were hoping to clear his vision. “There’s no potion. Nothing.”

Jaskier thought of the people the creature had already killed; their ends hadn’t been pretty. Icy fear crept into his gut.

“You just intend to curl up and die then? What if...”

Jaskier’s impassioned speech about not giving up fell short. He looked at Geralt. He looked miserable and ill, but not afraid. But then, Geralt couldn't usually be relied upon to display his emotions in a way that would allow Jaskier to gauge the desperation of the situation.

Geralt sighed and looked up at Jaskier with a flash of aggravation.

“It’s fatal to humans,” Geralt said.

Not to witchers, Jaskier thought, unable to miss the subtext of Geralt’s statement.

Geralt licked his lips and swallowed hard before slowly enumerating all the ways he was about to suffer. It hurt Jaskier to hear the frankness with which Geralt discussed the inevitability of his own agony. It was far from the first time Jaskier wondered how much pain Geralt had withstood in his past to make this seem acceptable.

Geralt moved his hand from his side. He put both of his palms on the ground and lowered himself down; he shook as he did so. He rested on his uninjured side and wrapped his arms around himself. Jaskier walked over and knelt down next to Geralt and put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t,” Geralt said as his muscles bunched. “Leave me. I told you I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier said. “You did.”

He didn’t like how Geralt’s voice seemed to come from miles away, or the way he was trembling. But he removed his hand and stood. The sky had darkened; it called to attention how low the fire was burning. That thought gave Jaskier direction. He got some of the wood he’d gathered earlier and added it to the fire. The kindling popped, hissed and shifted in the flame.

He cast a glance back at Geralt before making his way to the nearby stream for water. He rushed back, but everything was as he’d left it. Geralt’s chest moved with short, quick breaths and the deep furrows in his brow informed Jaskier Geralt’s sleep was not a restful one. There was no comfort he could offer his friend in that moment, but he sang one of his own ballads dto himself as he found a pan, then filled it with water and put it over the fire. He willed the water to boil as inactivity grated on him. He considered picking up his lute, or cleaning the sword. Anything but the impotence of waiting.

Jaskier shifted his weight from foot to foot, then made a noise in the back of his throat before getting a blanket from his own belongings. He brought it over to where Geralt lay, and folded it. He sank down behind Geralt. With gentle hands, Jaskier lifted Geralt’s head and put the blanket beneath it. Jaskier felt how damp Geralt’s hair was, and a concerned tut escaped his mouth. He moved a hand to Geralt’s forehead, then his cheek.

Too warm, Jaskier thought. Far too warm.

Geralt’s eyes slid open when Jaskier moved his hand to his throat, but he did nothing to prevent Jaskier from helping.

“You’ve got a fever,” Jaskier told him as he focused on the way Geralt’s pulse jumped under his touch. Was it too fast for a witcher?

Jaskier was unsure if the heat radiating off of Geralt’s body, or his lack of response was more worrying. Geralt’s eyes seemed to look right through him. Jaskier was disabused of any notion of pressing Geralt for a way to help him when Geralt’s body seized up and began to shake.

“Nonononono,” Jaskier said.

Geralt had told him this would happen, but he wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t want to see the way Geralt shook; he didn’t want to see the way Geralt’s eyes rolled back in his head. He put a hand on Geralt’s arm and another on his hip, if for no other reason than to let Geralt know he was there. He knew the gesture was useless, but maybe, maybe, it would keep Geralt from shaking himself apart.

“Okay, you’re going to be okay,” Jaskier said. His voice was barely above a whisper. “You said so yourself.”

Geralt’s back remained straight as his limbs and head shook and spasmed with malignant force. The stuttering, uneven hiss of Geralt’s breath being dragged in and out of his noise was the only sound Geralt made. Jaskier wanted to tear through Geralt’s pack and search out a potion, but he knew that would have been absolute idiocy. He knew whatever he selected would, in his hands, likely do more harm than good.

Pleasepleasepleaseplease, Jaskier prayed to whichever deity might have been listening. Please let this stop!

It did stop.

Eventually.

The shaking tapered off. Geralt breathed hard, but his body went slack. He let out a strangled noise, likely the remnant of words that had snared in his throat. Jaskier moved his hands away, though he doubted Geralt noticed their presence in the first place.

A hissing sound drew Jaskier’s attention; the forgotten water was boiling. He leapt up and took it away from the flame and set it aside to let it cool, but his attention returned to Geralt, who was reigning in his breathing. Jaskier walked in front of Geralt where he crouched and cleared his throat. It was so discreet a noise that Jaskier barely heard it himself.

“Are you with me, Geralt?”

Geralt breathed out, in, then out again before giving a little nod. His eyes remained closed.

“Okay,” Jaskier whispered; relief had muted the volume of his voice. He rose and found his way to his pack.

He brought it over to where Geralt was and began rooting through it. He kept odds and ends on hand, little just-in-case things that he thought he would have needed before Geralt ever did. He found the poultices easily enough; he supposed he could have found them by scent alone. A priestess of Miletele had given them to him; he remembered the crinkle in her nose when she’d admonished him about their pungence.

Jaskier moved Geralt’s arm and pulled his tunic up. It came away easily enough; the fabric had barely begun to stick in the blood. He breathed a sigh of relief when he revealed the wounds. His mind had conjured images of spilt viscera and gushing blood. The wounds, undoubtedly inflicted by one of the creature’s claws, were ugly but they were nowhere near as bad as Jaskier had feared. The blood seeped lazily. Jaskier thought that staunching it should be relatively simple. But the skin around the wounds piqued his concern; it was raised and red.

Poison, Jaskier thought.

Or perhaps it was venom. He chose not to dwell on the distinction. He drew a pained groan from Geralt when he put pressure on the wound. Jaskier mouthed the word ‘Sorry,’ but he didn’t relent. Geralt did what he always did. He tolerated the pain; aside from the occasional tensing of muscle or grunt, he made no complaint as Jaskier worked in silence. He did his best to mimic the priestess’s ministrations. When he was done, he chewed his lip and hoped his limited experience as a healer was adequate. At least there was no more blood and Geralt’s breathing seemed to be more even. Jaskier pulled Geralt’s tunic back down and wished his friend a restful sleep, all while knowing unconsciousness wouldn't find him until Geralt returned to himself.

The night seemed in no hurry to pass. Jaskier shifted from one position to the other, trying to escape the aches in his legs, back and neck. The period of time the relief for his muscles lasted was shorter each time he moved. The fire’s warmth was no comfort to him, especially considering how comparable it was to Geralt’s body heat. Jaskier had no reason to believe their problems would fade with the sunrise, but that didn’t stop him wishing it.

Darkness remained. Geralt groaned and curled in on himself. Jaskier feared another seizure, but while Geralt’s body tensed and trembled, Jaskier realized another symptom Geralt had mentioned was presenting itself. Geralt shifted as he made strangled, pained cries, and Jaskier sat with a desolate kind of uselessness as cramps wracked Geralt’s body.

Nothing you can do, Jaskier thought as he rubbed circles on Geralt’s back and intermittently wiped the sweat from his brow.

Geralt raised a hand. Jaskier watched as it stayed where Geralt had lifted it; several fingers were tightly curled as he trembled with the force of his muscle spasms. Jaskier reached out his own hands and wrapped them around Geralt’s before he guided it back down to his chest. Jaskier moved his thumbs back and forth over Geralt’s hand.

He sounded inane in his own ears as he hushed Geralt and tried to comfort him through the pain.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said as he dashed the idea of running for help when it resurfaced.

Geralt said he would get through this and Jaskier had to trust in that. He bit his lip as Geralt’s hand threatened to crush his. He quelled the urge to attempt to wriggle free. Even if Geralt ground his knuckles into dust.

Geralt’s cries crackled with agony, but they tapered off into muffled, breathy sounds, but those too faded into silence as his body stopped warring with itself. Geralt’s muscles eased and his hand went slack in Jaskier’s. When Geralt’s body unwound, Jaskier patted his hand and set it down before nursing his own and sitting back with a long exhalation. Beneath the light breeze and the occasional snap of an ember there was the occasional hitch in Geralt’s breath. No matter how things seemed, Jaskier didn’t allow himself to sink into the calm, relative quiet.

He sat and watched the thankfully steady motion of Geralt’s shoulder as it rose and fell. Jaskier counted as Geralt breathed, one on inhalations and two on exhalations as though it might make time go faster. A thought flitted into Jaskier’s mind.  What if the sun didn’t rise? He nearly chuckled at the thought, but it continued to rattle around in his head. Darkness eternal? It was poetic. It could be the subject of a song. There were no words for that song, not yet, but it would begin with a plodding one-two, one-two tune.

But the rhythm became a staccato riot that was accompanied by murmuring. Jaskier had no wish to wake Geralt, even when those murmurs shaped themselves into names. Some Jaskier recognized, some he didn’t.

“I’m here,” Jaskier whispered.

The desperation in Geralt’s voice made him sound so lost and unlike himself. This part would not make it into his song.

Geralt made an ugly, uncertain noise as he rolled onto his back; his mouth hung open as he gasped for air. His eyes, unseeing and ablaze with disquietude, searched the camp.

“No,” Geralt rasped as the corners of his mouth tugged downward and he rolled back over onto his other side, facing Jaskier. He tried to push himself up on shaking arms.

Jaskier knew better than to try to reason with him. He put firm hands on Geralt, who tried to scuttle away. It took hatefully little force to keep Geralt still and his arms, unable to hold his weight, tremored before giving out. It hurt Jaskier to feel the extent that Geralt’s power had fled him. Geralt panted and raved as he struggled weakly against Jaskier, who alternated between apologizing, begging Geralt to be calm and offering him comfort. All told, it did not take long for Geralt’s energy to deplete itself. He stared at nothing as he settled.

“Ma?” Geralt called out again.

“Shh,” Jaskier hushed him as he shook his head.

He brushed silver strands from Geralt’s brow, hoping to show him the gentleness his life so often lacked. Jaskier willed Geralt to close his eyes, to find rest.

Geralt was quiet, save for the occasional, insensible whimper. Those sounds stopped too, though and Geralt lay there with his eyes half-lidded. Jaskier wondered what specters were haunting Geralt and if the venom’s repertoire of tortures had exhausted itself yet. He dabbed the sweat away from Geralt’s brow again. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. He savored the feeling of the muscles in his back stretching. His own heart rate slowed and, despite his best efforts, he felt his eyes begin to droop.

“Huhuh,” he admonished himself as he drew in a deep breath and shook his head. He began to hum while he put another log on the fire. As the flame grew, Jaskier’s humming bloomed into a melody. It was only when he began to mouth the words that he realized it was some half remembered song from his youth, something he’d sung with glee before having had any concern for skill or method.

Geralt’s eyes slipped shut and Jaskier could see that his body had, at last, had enough; his muscles relaxed and his breath evened out.

Jaskier yawned and started singing another song he hadn’t given voice to since childhood. After a verse of that song he came to the realization that, at that moment, there would have been nothing better than to hear Geralt grumble at him to shut up.

He sipped water when his throat and mouth became too dry and he smiled lopsidedly for no reason at all. His eyes burned and when he rubbed them he found tears, though he could not recall when they’d fallen.

When the sky began to lighten, Jaskier was unconvinced that he wasn't imagining it, but when the brightness became tangibly gray, his sleep-deprived mind became giddy. He knew the light would not guarantee Geralt would be well, but the dissipation of the darkness was something.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

You ask for prompts and I'm here again to seek new content to read: 3. How often do/can they see each other (due to living on different planets, having stressful jobs, etc) with Gashir (/Garakshir) 🤩🤩

 Eyyyyy. I am just gonna… casually fold into this… a little trans-Bashir as a treat…. because it’s trans day of visibility!!! Also I hc Cardassians as intersex, in the sense of they as a species don’t call themselves intersex, but their genders are far more loosely determined at birth, because there’s not really sexual dimorphism (or rather, there is, but it’s so many different factors that it’s not classified) and then gendering comes later in life depending on what role they’re supposed to play in society ahem – different post to make!

Also Garak has a tail in this, also casually.. also this got longer than intended… oops?

—– Letter Analysis ——

1.

Their lives have a sort of normality that many families in this day and age exist with. Space travel, careers that necessitate being off-planet for long stretches at a time, the struggles of being a representative for entire planets or systems, all of this isn’t out of the ordinary.

Still, it takes them a little while to adjust, if only because they spent so long not getting it together that now that they have, well, they want to savour it. On the flip-side their relationship functions much better than so many who enter into partnerships of some kind without fully considering the difficulties of spending so much time apart and inevitably crumble.

Because of all that time they know, without a doubt, that their lives are entwined for good, regardless of how much of it they spend without one another’s physical company.

They fall into letter-writing naturally. After all, they had been doing the same before, why stop now.  

2.

It has become something of a competition at this point: who can write the longest letter. Thus far, Julian is winning and Elim is still in the process of reading his when they see one another again. He pretends to be blasé about it, but Julian can read him easily these days. He wonders at the time when he couldn’t and can’t really picture it.

While Elim is giving him a back-handed compliment at the way he’s managed to fold three words worth of content into whole paragraphs, Julian realises that he’s never known anyone as well as he knows Elim. And every detail of himself is known in turn. From the scars of his chest surgery that he purposefully kept, to the ridges at the base of Elim’s tail, it feels like everything about them was perfectly made for the other.

It’s strange, how many tiny moments are filled with love, they both learn.

(After Elim sends him a letter of 3000 pages, Julian simply answers: You win).

3.

They consider what it would be like to have a family with the way their lives are run. Elim generally lives on Cardassia unless his diplomatic duties take him elsewhere, while Julian is hopping from emergency to medical find to distress call to conference.

Still, they approach the matter on the premise that it will happen. Their letters during these years follow a trajectory of thought with little variation, as they can’t actually be together for the discussion.

They discuss pregnancy – both of them are capable of bearing a child, but the time needed (nine earth months for humans, even longer for cardassians) makes it a challenging prospect. Moreover Julian and Elim, each for their own reason, have issues with concepts surrounding an uncontrollable force fundamentally changing their bodies.

It doesn’t take them long to agree that adoption was always the only option. Still there’s the matter of their careers being incompatible with children. Neither of them wants to put a child in harm’s way and both of their careers contain elements of danger. I believe, writes Elim drily and with an underlying sadness that Julian wishes he could heal, that this sixth assassination attempt may contain a sign that a child would not be particularly safe in my company.

4.

The way this resolves itself is oddly perfect for what they need and who they are and comes through both of their continued work with mixed-species war-orphans, who more often than not are homeless, ostrasized and suffering from any number of easily treatable diseases. Garak opens a series of institutions in the name of Ziyal and habitually lends a hand in their various gardens where he befriends a number of the kids.

This plan also works to ground a lot of Julian’s focus in the space of mixed-species research, specifically writing papers on the future of the galaxy needing to see species integration for the sake of these kids as an inevitability as cultures mix and to understand the medical and cultural implications thereof.

Kira and Ro get heavily involved on the Bajoran side of things – in general a bunch of adults from DS9 days come together to give kids a better chance than they had.  

Beyond that though, they come to realise that they’re okay on family. With these kids – many of whom they get to know personally over the years – with Molly and Yoshi O'Brien and Rebecca Sisko getting older and the two of them functioning as uncles, there’s more than enough for them to be getting on with on the children front: Elim and I were very happy to see you all again – Don’t worry, I’ll keep Yoshi safe – we’ll be making a stop at Bajor where Nerys is very excited to see him again –

Their circle is actually a sizeable, cross-galaxy household. They come to realise that it doesn’t matter if your family is someone you can’t see often, what matters is they’re all inhabiting the same space.

5.

They don’t argue often. With the lack of time they have together, what would be the point of raising petty squabbles. There are things like the time Julian forgot about a very important dinner that Elim was a guest of honour at, which opened up a box of the kind of loneliness Elim thought he’d overcome, but it wasn’t about anger or arguing, it was about the two of them figuring out that sometimes this not seeing one another was actually damned hard. It was about asking for forgiveness and receiving it even before the asking. It was about making sure that they wouldn’t let things ever be unsaid, because their time together – comparative to their whole lives – was always going to be so short.

The actual worst long-standing consequence is that Elim and Julian are political celebrities, and so whatever tabloid-equivalent exists publishes one thousand pieces on their apparently irreconcilable relationship. Julian finds himself referred to as everything from a “heartthrob who found he needed more,” to “a cheater who habitually has several affairs at once.”

It’s amazing, remarks Elim in his latest letter, how these kinds of spurious articles are written even today, and how they still don’t seem to know the facts. On that note I hope you have a wonderful time with Data, and Parmak sends his love from my lap - it’s making it very hard to write this.

6.

They’re both twenty years older by now, but things aren’t slowing down with their work by the looks of things. Julian’s work centres more and more on the various groups whose medical needs are considered less valid or even non-medical, because of their social status and who often have medical issues of kinds that don’t come up in normative societies – mixed-species, augments, A.I. (for awhile his standing suffers, when he argues that mechanical needs for A.I. ought to be taught in Starfleet Medical), non-bipedal species, Ex-B’s, Jem'Hadar, clones.

Elim keeps his Carrington Award on the wall for everyone to see. Partly to mess with him – To The Prestigious Winner of the CA – many of his letters begin for several years after, but mostly out of pride.

(In return and with as much love, Julian addresses him as Ambassador and Castellan – the joke evolves as they find ever more flowery titles for one another. Julian wins this one: My Dearest, the Ambassador to the United Federation of planets, Castellan of the Cardassian Union, Blusher when Being Whispered Compliments about the Length of Your Tail, Not-So-Secret Reader of Austen and Pratchett, Seducer of Doctors (No Doubt Currently Spluttering in Denial), Possessor of Biteable Ridges (Blushing Again, I Hope) and of My Heart… this opening continues a further four pages. The letter itself reads: I expect to land on Cardassia within the next three days. Surprise.)

7.

At the end of it all, Julian finally comes to Cardassia for good. Along the way it’s become his home more than any planet, station, starship, or system, for the simple fact that he’s been returning to Elim, and Elim is home.

There’s a strangeness to all the time they have. The walks they take, the languid mornings, the discussions of books they’ve read whilst in each other’s company, it’s all far more surreal than the years spent wanting to see one another again and catching whatever moments they could.

They can’t shake the habit of writing one another letters, even as they’re sitting in the same room. They don’t need to be long or well-formed any more, although occasionally silly competitions spring up, just for fun.

The one Julian’s reading right now, as Elim’s tail languidly curls around his waist, simply says: I am glad that you’re finally home – E

–— The End ——

Submissions for drabbles are now closed, thank you for sending me asks!

[out-of-jams]

Hi! I just started following bc I read airplane mode (which, holy. freekinn. crows. so good 🥺🥰) so here’s a random drabble request(?) (idea?? Idk I’ve never done this before???) to hopefully help you warm up: Getting home after a really day to your favorite person (idk if they’re an s/o or a best friend or something else) having made you dinner and a movie completely unprompted—but something mayhaps goes wrong?

Hi! I’m glad you like APM!🥰🥰 Also, thank you for the request! :) I’m glad to be your first haha. Writing this literally made me so soft. And I accidentally made it a lot longer than I’d intended. Oops? I hope you like it!!

Pairing: ?/Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/Genre: Roomate!au. Soft, soft fluff. A little angst if you literally squint. Small use of bad language.

Listening To As I Write: Serendipity by BTS

You weren’t a philosopher. Hell, the closest you’d ever gotten to the subject was once, when Namjoon had forced you to watch one of his many weird movies. (Not that you’d been able to completely understand it anyway).

But Murphy’s Law was totally kicking your ass.

Because everything that could have possibly gone wrong all day, well, did. And now you were tired and soaking wet from the stupid rain that’d decided to split the sky in half. It’d been sudden. So-much-so that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to take shelter before it completely drenched you, all the way down to your cotton socks.

So to say that you just wanted to get home, take a shower, and bury yourself beneath your freshly washed sheets would have been an understatement. And as you punched the code into the keypad outside your front door and it opened with a chime of a bell, you couldn’t help but uncaringly toe off your shoes and wet socks. You knew that you’d come to regret it later, when your roommate launched them across the room in a hissy fit at them not being put away properly. But you didn’t really care, couldn’t bring yourself to put in the extra effort to move them to the right ten more inches.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion that clouded your brain and prevented you from completely registering your surroundings. Or maybe it was the rain water sticking your eyelashes together and obscuring your vision. Whatever it was, you were completely unprepared for the scene that greeted you as you rounded the wall separating the entrance from the rest of the apartment. And came to a complete halt.

Because your roommate was standing in the middle of the kitchen slicing up what looked to be a homemade pizza. His back was to you, the black and white striped sweater he wore sticking out amongst the brown painted cabinets. And his soft looking blond hair was a styled mess that you knew he most likely spent twenty minutes that morning getting it to look that way.

He was humming quietly beneath his breath, the sound carrying all the way to where you stood. He’d always been a great singer for as long as you’d known him. Which was a long time–three years to be exact. You’d first met through Namjoon, who’d introduced the two of you after realizing that you were both searching for a roommate. Of course, you’d been a little bit skeptical at first; you’d never lived with a man after all. Especially not a complete stranger.

But Park Jimin was nothing short of an absolute sweetheart.

“What’re you doing home?” You asked, watching as he jumped in surprise at the sound of your voice. How had he not heard you come in?

Jimin whipped around with the pizza cutter still in his hand and warm brown eyes blown wide. “You scared me!”

You didn’t even get the chance to formulate a response before his plush lips turned down at the corners. And you could see the concern flash across his face clear as day. “Why are you soaked?”

“If you haven’t noticed,” You pouted and hooked a thumb over your shoulder towards the balcony door, though it was shielded by white curtains. “It’s pouring outside.”

And you knew that you were probably dripping a puddle into the carpet beneath your bare feet, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to be bothered. Jimin, if possible, frowned deeper and set the pizza cutter onto the counter before approaching you.

“You should go take a warm shower.” His hands were on your shoulders now as he gently guided you towards the hallway between the living room and open-concept kitchen. “The pizza should be cooled off by then.”

It was easy not to put up a fight, especially when his warmth seeped through your wet clothes and onto your chilled skin. “Why are you making pizza? I thought you had work today.”

“You texted me that you were having a bad day, remember?” Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could quite clearly hear the smile in his adolescent-esque voice. “I finished up early so I could be here when you got home. Now go shower so we can eat.”

If there was any person in the whole universe who had the ability to completely turn your bad days on their axis, it would be none other than Park Jimin. Especially when he gave your shoulders a comforting squeeze before retreating back down the hall. You turned just in time to see the back of his blond head before he disappeared around the corner.

. . . .

You already felt a lot better as you stepped out of the bathroom, steam following in your wake. It may have been from the hot shower that’d eased your tense muscles, but your money was on the aroma of melted cheese and tomato sauce. And on the man who’d made them.

Them being the keyword.

“How many did you make?” The amused awe couldn’t be kept from your voice, nor your face.

When Jimin looked up from the pan he stood over, you rubbed the sleeves of your oversized hoodie across your eyes playfully. Who it belonged to, you had no idea. Though it most likely had originated from his closet since you had a penchant for stealing his clothes. It wasn’t your fault that the man was more stylish than you were.

“A few.” He shrugged. “Just in case.”

“In case what? The zombie apocalypse?”

Jimin softly swatted your hand out of the way when you reached for one of the slices. Out of the four–four!–full sized pizzas that sat on the kitchen counter in all of their gooey, cheesy goodness. It was your favorite comfort food and you were extremely lucky that it also happened to be one of the only dishes Jimin knew how to make.

His sweet laughter filled the room and unconsciously pulled a smile across your own lips. “Just in case, though I think we’ll end up eating them all during the marathon. You don’t have work tomorrow, right?”

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Marathon? What marathon?”

Jimin just gave you a cheeky smile, flashing his cute crooked front tooth, and handed you a plate filled with fresh slices of pizza. And he didn’t answer your question, not at first. Just gestured for you to follow him to the living room where he had blankets, pillows, and drinks lined up on the coffee table.

“The Harry Potter marathon.” 

His answer reached your ears from over his shoulder as he settled down on the couch. You weren’t too far behind, plopping down on the opposite end. Though it was pointless, since you’d just end up gravitating towards one another later as he cuddled up next to you.

“You know I love you, right?” The look you sent him was nothing short of grateful. “Like, you’re the best roommate ever.”

Jimin simply settled for sending you a playful wink before clicking on the television. And with the taste of pizza coating your tongue, there was nothing that could possibly ruin your day.

Until the electricity shut off with a loud boom of thunder. Right as the opening credits rolled.

“No.” You threw your head back with a groan, dropping your slice back onto the plate. Of course.

Jimin pouted in the sudden darkness of the living room. And you could just barely make out his head turning towards you as he patted the couch cushions for something. His face lit up in the soft blue light of his cell phone.

“Come here.” He slid his plate of pizza onto the coffee table and gestured for you to lay down in the small space next to him. “I can just rent the movies off Amazon and we can watch it on my phone.”

Well, you weren’t about to turn down that offer. Not when Jimin was the best cuddler you’d ever met.

Which was exactly how you’d found yourself tucked into his side with one of his arms thrown around you and his phone propped up in the other. And as the opening credits played on the small screen, you wouldn’t trade that day for anything.

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 55

Hey-o! I suppose I need to do a Fanfic Progress Update, since it’s Saturday! Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure gone Mini AND Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 35 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 26th of February. Chapter 36 is finished and will be posted on 18th of March. Chapter 37 has been started.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

That month of the year (previous known as The Dad Deer)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Every year, for a single month, the Radio Demon gets… emotional. His antlers are in velvet and he’s pumped full of hormones that make him behave quite unlike himself: suddenly, everywhere he looks, instead of seeing fellow demons all he sees are helpless little fawns that nobody is taking a proper care of! Solution? Adopt them.

Husk, Niffty, Camille, Honey, and the rest of the older Fawns put up with their Mom/Dad’s nonsense every year, but this time there’s a new, rotten apple in their midst and they have to protect Alastor from this crook. Without Alastor knowing about it. As Husk likes to put it: “This is fucking bullshit. ...I mean fudgy nonsense.”

(Crack taken seriously. Gen)

Progress: The first chapter is finished! The second chapter hasn’t been started yet. I want to have at least three chapters written before posting anything.

This fic is co-authored by Maximillian!

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two dorks!

Progress: Chapter 5 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 13th of March. Chapter 6 will be posted on 17th of March, and chapter 7 hopefully on 20th of March. Hopefully, because chapter 7 hasn’t been written yet, oops. I do still have a whole week tho, so I’m very likely to get it done before the deadline, and it has been started as well. This story will have at least ten more chapters, but who even knows at this point. Prompts are no longer accepted, and I’ll need to make an announcement about that in the next chapter’s author’s notes, as I’ve actually received a few additional ones (that I still put in the list because I’m nice).

This fic is updated on Tuesdays and Fridays. I’ll post a sneak-peek for Tuesday’s chapter on these updates, and one for Friday’s chapter in a separate post on Wednesday.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Experiment in Romance (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here is the promised sneak-peeks into Adventure gone Mini and Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest. (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Link grinned at Sidon, way more excited than the occasion probably deserved. He watched as a batch of Minish unloaded themselves from the mouse cart, and finally the person driving it signaled for the waiting people, Link and Sidon included, to come forward and board it. Why yes, after they had finished eating and gotten ready to continue their journey, a helpful Minish had stopped them and informed them that the mouse cart to the next city should arrive within the next ten or so minutes. Obviously they had chosen to wait for that instead, both because it saved them a five hour walk and turned it into a two hour ride, and because of course they wanted to try the mouse cart when the opportunity was there. Link had no way of knowing for sure, but he trusted that none of the Minish they had dined with were Vaatians; surely they would have caused trouble already if they were going to. So, sitting in the cart with them for about two hours didn't feel like an awful idea this time around, unlike the ride from the Capital to here would have been. Link and Sidon were guided to sit in the middle of the cart for balance reasons – Sidon was about three times the size of an average Minish, after all – and soon enough the cart was full and the journey begun. It was very similar to traveling on a horse cart, except for the fact that the ride was bumpier and faster, as the mice pulling the cart scurried along without the proper rhythm that horses were trained for. It was still a cool thing to experience and Zelda would no doubt want to try it.

Bushwa

It was quarter past midday when Alastor finally received the quiet notification from a shadow minion that Husker had emerged from his room and situated himself at the front desk. It was later than usual, but not unheard of, so he wasn't concerned when he dropped the conversation he had been having with one of the clients in favour of appearing by his sheik's side to wish him a good morning.

"Hello, Husker, my only sunshine!" Alastor said cheerfully and pulled his fluffy kitty into a side-hug. Husker hummed passively and leaned against him, which prompted Alastor to drop a kiss on his temple. "How are you this fine day?"

Alastor begun scratching behind Husker's ear while waiting for the answer.

Husker shrugged. "It's a day."

Alastor's scratching halted for a second and his smile dimmed in mild confusion. Husker sounded… off. Like he was just reading the words from a cue card without any emotion behind them. It was concerning, and needed to be fixed.

He widened the smile again and moved his scratching to the base of Husk's skull, hoping to get a better reaction from what he knew to be a sweeter spot. "Are hung over again? You sound a little unenthusiastic today. Have you eaten anything? Would you like a smoothie?"

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3    FFnet    Purple Crayon    Ko-fi

[ariennemalfoy]

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dramione Fanfics

Longer (Completed):

All You Want by Senlinyu (172,268 Words): Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153092 

Dangerous Desires by Fortem (182,350 Words): Draco Malfoy is an alpha and he is very used to getting what he wants but when his marriage negotiations begin his life gets far more complicated. Hermione Granger is an omega and just wants to be taken seriously. She'll do anything to overcome her station, even if it means making deals with a certain irritating Alpha. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11895291/1/ 

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega by MrsRen (29,178 Words): Hermione is certain this heat cycle will be the same as always. Except Luna Lovegood, close friend and fellow Omega takes it upon herself to create a service that matches Omegas with compatible Alphas. What Luna fails to mention to anyone at all, is the aspect of the soulmate bond. [Wizarding AU where Voldemort died in the first war.] [WIZARDING TINDER.] 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12996809/1/ 

A Heated Marriage by mrsaturtle (Deleted)(18,224 Words)                                           (feel free to email ArienneMalfoy@gmail.com for a copy)        Hermione Granger has lived with her guardian Lord Snape for a decade but now she's crossing Engl and  to meet her intended, an alpha who can't wait to get his h and s on her. Her suppressants have stopped  and  when her heat crashes over her, a man she barely knows will become the only one who can get her through it.

Oneshots:

My Alpha, Draco by Lashes to Ashes (4599 Words): As the looming threat of Lord Voldemort draws ever closer, Hermione is given a secret mission. Get close to Draco Malfoy. All it took was one night. One night for the truth to come out and turn everything upside down. My take on an Alpha/Omega fic. Very mature and explicit - lots of lemons! 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13093055/1 

Marked by Monsterleadmehome (4492 Words):  Hermione Granger's heat wasn't supposed to start for another two weeks. But that was before the intoxicating scent of an unknown alpha triggered it as they passed in the atrium. Can she make it through the rest of the day before starting her leave? And who is the mysterious alpha who smells like her perfect mate?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046587 

Feeling the Heat by Flightglow32 (3241 Words): Hermione has a little problem when magical maintenance strike causing the Heat to rise. A/B/O fic. Smut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16123583 

Basic Instincts by Safewordisdevilssnare (2382 Words):  Being an omega in a war-torn Britain is bad. It's even worse since she was in heat and on the run from an Alpha tracker hot on her heels.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15214649?view_full_work=true 

An Omega for his Birthday by weestarmeggie (2305 Words):  Hermione Malfoy's husband, her Alpha, is avoiding her and she doesn't understand why. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12959705/1/An-Omega-for-his-birthday 

Blood Moon Mania by dangelina (6883 Words):"A condition of mania used to describe sexually receptive females influenced by the desire to reproduce. Symptoms include changes in a witches’ scent, hyperactive senses, high body temperature, altered behavior, rapid breathing, heart palpitations. During the height of Frenzy a witch may release pheromones as ovulation occurs. These pheromones are known to cause aggression and altered mental states akin to madness."Hermione never was one for Divination. Unveiling the future through dreams? Tea leaves? How the stars sit in the sky? Seems woolly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021698?view_full_work=true 

Sheer Lunacy by dangelina (9263 Words): “It’s nightshade wine. I don’t believe they use Deadly Nightshade anymore.” Draco mused, holding his glass by the stem as he swirled the wine in slow circles, “They say it causes delirium and hallucinations.”“The plant or the wine?” She eyed the Slytherin in astonishment.Malfoy lazily shrugged.Hermione glanced at the glass in her hand suspiciously before bringing it to her lips once more.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144653?view_full_work=true

On Hinges, On Haunches zoomzoomzuppa (6732 Words):  Draco is the alpha of his pack in a world forgotten by sleeping gods.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471271

WIPS:

The Program by ComfortableSilences: Alphas and Omegas depend on each other for relief from their designation. The longer that they deny their bodies' needs the worse the symptoms become. An Omega's heats will only get worse and more frequent, while an Alpha loses his control completely is launched into a rut. The Ministry launches a program to help deal with the Alpha/Omega problem in the Wizarding World. They offer the chance for relief without admitting to your designation. A matching system where an Omega can use an Alpha to see her through her heat and an Alpha can use an Omega to keep his sanity. The best part is it is completely anonymous, the matches are decided based on mutual attraction to each other's pheromones, and a potion prohibits the brain from recognising your partner.Hermione Granger has never been with an Alpha, her heats are becoming unbearable. Draco Malfoy begins to lose control of his body in his fight against his own designation. Ultimately they surrender to the program, knowing they have to face the inevitable lest they lose their own or take someone else's right to consent.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048587?view_full_work=true 

Every Part of Me by PotionChemist: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have been hiding a secret for the past five years. Something brought them together during sixth year and then the war ripped them apart. Four years after Voldemort’s defeat, Hermione is married to Ron Weasley and Draco has recently married Astoria Greengrass. When they reconnect at the annual Victory Ball, Hermione tells Draco something about himself that he never knew, and it explains why he’s been dreaming of her since he let her go…Is it possible that Fate herself tried to unite the two sides through Hermione and Draco? How did all of this begin in the first place? Can their damaged bond be repaired five years later?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289409?view_full_work=true 

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi: Their world was at a boiling point. Currently, 25% of the magical world consisted of born Alphas and not a single new English Omega had presented since Halloween of 1981. Aggression, possessive behavior, and battles for dominance between the Alphas were making magical Britain a relative warzone. A laundry list of nefarious deeds by one deemed to be light and the cure to all of their problems resting on the shoulders of three unsuspecting students…what could go wrong?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253814?view_full_work=true 

Closer by istsjustsilver: There is something wrong with Hermione.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080448?view_full_work=true 

Mine by mrsaturtle: Alphas and Omegas are a rare thing in Wizarding Britain. With slim options of Alphas, who aren't married or horrible men, Hermione all but begs Draco Malfoy, of all people, to get her through this heat. What happens when years of animosity and misunderstanding crash around them mixed with urges and uncovered desires. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13032480/1/Mine 

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her.Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053894?view_full_work=true 

Omega and Alpha by JLWeaker: Wherein, Hogwarts is a place in enriching werewolves with their origins, history and potentially finding their mates and the houses are sort of packs that have little clusters in it. Harry was sorted to Slytherin were pureblood werewolves are located and becomes Draco’s Beta while Hermione is sorted to the Ravenclaw where unknown origins of wolves are sorted where she is under the care of Alpha Luna Lovegood.It was rare to find a mate outside of your house so when Draco had a hint that Hermione was his mate. It became a lot more complicated when a prophecy was thrown in the mix and a whole lot facts such us Hermione being human bred at the same time an Omega . Also, Hermione hasn’t turned and isn't fond with Draco because of their first meeting. So how will this story turn out? Just read it will you?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414440?view_full_work=true 

These Walls by ArmyofBees: Hermione has eighth year planned out: throw herself into her studies, ace her N.E.W.T.s, and figure out a way to get her parents back. There are just a few minor wrinkles: PTSD, memory charm reversal, and face-like-a-Greek-god-but-morals-looser-than-his-purse Draco Malfoy. Oh—also the fact that Hermione is the first known omega to present in half a century and accidentally triggers an ancient, morally-grey spell that leaves the wizarding world's most eligible (and ineligible) Alphas spilling blood and galleons in a fight for a relationship with Hermione that she doesn't even want. Oops?By the end of it all, Hermione Granger is filthy rich, Draco Malfoy talks about his internalized misogyny in therapy, and Lucius Malfoy hasn't changed a bit.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097656?view_full_work=true 

Dramione:A History of Magic:  Dramione Drabble collection

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377496?view_full_work=true

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman (Alpha Hermione!):In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet.But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267383?view_full_work=true

[argylemnwrites]

Lending a Hand

Pairing: Seth Levine x MC (Jessica Parker)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries (between books 2 and 3)

Word Count: ~1200

Rating: G

Summary: In light of a tragedy in Jessica’s family, Seth tries to be helpful with some chores, but that’s not the help she needs the most.

Author’s Note: Yes, these are supposed to be fluffy little drabbles. Yes, I just wrote one about a death in the family, because my brain just can’t help but blend the fluff with some angst. Oops. This wasn’t even what I intended to write when I selected this prompt for this couple, but I don’t know, it just happened, probably because Jessica’s father featured strongly in my head canon, but in book 3, he’s not mentioned at all. So, this is 13. Washing Dishes from the domestic fluff prompts list. Trigger warning for mentions of death.

Seth sighed, sinking his hands into the warm water, pulling out a serving bowl and beginning to scrub it. It was strangely similar to when he was here not even two months ago. Except back then, he’d been helping Jessica’s father clean up after a Christmas Day feast. Now, he was tackling this chore all alone.

He’d been shocked when Jessica had called him, her voice so small and timid, telling him that her father had died. He’d been there with Jessica the day after Christmas, when her parents sat her down and told her that Mike had cancer - renal cell carcinoma, stage 4. He’d done some reading on Google and WebMD, so he’d known it was not good news, but Seth had figured he had a couple of years left, not just a couple of months. But things progressed quickly, apparently.

Seth had already been in the Midwest, doing a comedy show tour at some college campuses. He canceled his shows for the next two weeks immediately, renting a car and making the drive from Indianapolis right away so that he could pick up Jessica from the airport. He’d met her at baggage claim, wrapping his arms around her, trying to lend any support or comfort he could. He’d only met Mike a couple of times, and while he liked the guy, it wasn’t like that could compare to Jessica losing her father.

For the past few days, he’d tried to be the Parker family’s errand boy. Trips to the grocery store, calling the local paper to confirm the obituary, driving people to the funeral home, going to pick up take out, Seth had done it all. He felt like it was the best way he could help. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit like an intruder on the family’s grief. All of Jessica’s aunts, uncles, and cousins, plus their spouses and kids, on her dad’s side of the family lived pretty close, and they’d all known Mike for years and years. He was this awkward LA tag-along who barely knew the guy in the grand scheme of things.

Plus, Seth knew if he were to sit around and chat with any of Jessica’s relatives, he was likely to crack a joke to try and lighten the mood. It was his go-to move, and he knew it would be wildly inappropriate here. So he’d kept busy. Practically useful was better than awkward joke teller, he knew that as a fact. And since he knew nothing about Presbyterian funeral customs, he let the others handle that while he tackled the practical, day to day things that still needed to be done.

Which is how he found himself spending a lot of time in the kitchen, reheating casseroles that neighbors and friends brought over and cleaning up after all the meals. With dozens of Parkers swinging by at all hours of the day, there was plenty to keep him busy. Tonight he was cleaning up from a meal of tater tot casserole and seven layer salad. It tasted quite a bit like his childhood.

He’d finished the ceramic bowl and was moving on to a glass pan when the kitchen door swung open and in walked Jessica. Seth felt like he had barely seen her since picking her up at the airport. She’d been practically glued to her mother’s side, which Seth completely understood. 

“Hey,” he called out, “just finishing up the dishes. Do you need something?”

She shook her head and walked over to join him at the sink, grabbing a dish towel off the refrigerator handle on her way. She picked up one of the platters off the drying rack and got to work, “I thought you might need some help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Seth replied with a little shake of his head, “I’ve got it under control if you want to-”

“Seth,” she interrupted, grabbing his shoulder with her free hand, “I wanted some company, okay?”

He just nodded at her before turning back to the dishes and taking a deep breath. “Don’t make a stupid joke. Don’t do it,” kept cycling through his mind. He just kept his mouth shut, focusing on the dishes.

After several moments of silence, he felt Jessica’s hand on his arm, “I want you to know you don’t have to take care of all of this stuff. Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate it, but you don’t have to do all the work.”

“I’m just doing what I can to be helpful.”

“Seth, you just being here is plenty helpful.”

He didn’t know about that, but when Jessica turned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, he pulled her in for a tight hug. They stood like that for several minutes until Jessica stepped back, grabbing the towel and starting to dry the dishes again.

“I know this probably isn’t the most comfortable thing for you,” she said, not making eye contact, but starting at the bowl she was drying like it was completely fascinating, “but I’d really like it if you could sit with me tomorrow at the funeral.”

“Of course I’ll sit with you, Jessica, if that’s what you want,” he said, glancing at her as he picked up another pan to wash.

She nodded, but she remained oddly silent. Seth felt like he was missing something, and as scared as he was of saying the wrong thing, he didn’t like Jessica being so quiet around him, either.

“Jessica, is something wrong? I mean, obviously something is wrong; you’re here for your dad’s funeral. I just meant… well, it seems like-”

“Seth, I get that it might be awkward for you here, or whatever, but I kind wish you would spend a little less time hiding out in the kitchen and a little more time with me.”

At her words, he felt a wave of realization wash over him. He’d been so stupid, so focused on providing physical, practical support, that he’d not been great emotional support.

“Ahh, Jessica. Look, I never meant to ignore you. I just felt like I was intruding on your family’s grief. I figured you’d get more comfort from people that knew your father best.”

“While talking and reminiscing with my family is great, I really need you, Seth.”

Seth tugged her into another hug, not wanting her to feel alone for even a second longer. He wasn’t used to having someone rely on him like Jessica apparently did, but if she trusted him that much, then all he could do was try and live up to her faith in him.

“I’m sorry, Jessica,” he mumbled into her curls, “I’m here for you, I promise.”

He felt her nodding against his chest, letting out a sigh, “Thanks, Seth.”

“I can’t promise I won’t say the wrong thing, though. So I apologize in advance if I say something that’s supposed to make you laugh or smile and just makes you cringe.”

Jessica tipped her head back, looking at Seth in the eye, “I’m sure it won’t make me cringe. I like that you are always looking to cheer me up, you know. Come on, someone else can finish up the dishes, okay?”

And with that, she tugged him out into the living room. Seth didn’t know what he was going to say to all her relatives, but if Jessica wanted him by her side, well then that’s where he would be.

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal  @lilyofchoices  @thequeenofcronuts  @jamesashtonisbae 

Red Carpet Diaries: @octobereighth  

Seth x MC only: @choicesarehard​

[sp4c3-0ddity]

Lightning Round

For Lance Loves Ladies Week, Day 6:  Fluff / Pining

Pairing:  Lance/Pidge

Summary:  Lance, Pidge, and teamwork

Also this ended up being lighter on pining than I originally intended. Oops??

Cross-posted to Ao3 (where you should definitely read it because it’s longer than drabble-length and also includes humorous end notes)

At seventeen years of age, Lance had long since lost count of how many crushes he had.

For Lance, a crush was a fleeting thing, a brief attraction that lived in the moment, or, really, for however long he knew the person that captured his attention. And after that, well, out of sight, out of mind.

But Lance had never earned the misfortune of crushing on a friend before.

Maybe it was the isolation, seeing only six other people regularly. Maybe the frigid recycled air of the ship was getting to his head (or heart). Maybe it was his brain (or, again, heart) seeking a distraction from a war that seemed never-ending.

Or maybe it was just Pidge.

"Why does she do that?" Lance asked Hunk one day during a much needed break from combat training. He could see Pidge out of the corner of his eye, leaning against the wall and sitting cross-legged, one hand on her ankle while the other clutched a water pouch.

"Do what?" Hunk said, following Lance's gaze. He raised an eyebrow and turned back to him.

"I don't know," said Lance, waving towards Pidge, who pouted at him when she noticed. He flushed and put his back to her. "Just...that."

"Uh..." said Hunk. "Again, what's that?"

"Just...everything!" Lance exclaimed, gesturing. "Why does she blow her hair out of her face when she's frustrated, or smirk when she's just been proven right, or ramble when she's caught off-guard, or go all starry-eyed for tech, or give us all grief for being idiots, or--"

"Whoa, whoa!" Hunk interrupted, frowning. "Who are you calling an idiot?"

Lance sighed. "Me. I'm an idiot. Do you want to know why?"

"I can't believe you'd admit to this," said Hunk, smiling. "And all because you like Pidge?"

"She just--wait, what?" Lance glared at Hunk over his own juice pouch as he sipped angrily.

"You like Pidge!" said Hunk, his voice sing-song. "Oh my gosh, it's too cute. I can't wait to tell her!"

"Don't you dare!" Lance said, grabbing Hunk's arm. "Let me suffer in silence, thank you very much."

"You're not being silent right now," Hunk pointed out reasonably.

Lance opened his mouth, a smooth retort on the tip of his tongue, but Shiro interrupted to bid them resume training.

"All right," he said, "I'm going to have you pair up for the next exercise:  short-range combatant with a long-range fighter."

Uh oh, Lance knew exactly what was coming.

"Princess, do you want to explain the game?" Shiro called up to the control booth.

Allura's voice came over the intercom. "It's simple," she said.

Lance snorted; Altean combat games were never simple.

"This one is called 'Save the Gladiator'," Allura explained. "Two of you will attempt to 'save' the gladiator from the other two. But there is an obstacle course, at the center of which is the gladiator, and you will be under fire the entire time. Cover your partner, and once you have the gladiator you will have to escape the maze without it taking damage or the other team recovering it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Princess," they all chorused.

Lance glanced at Pidge, who was looking at him with a bemused smile on her face, then darted his eyes towards Keith; both of them were short-range fighters, which meant...

"Lance," said Shiro, jerking him from his thoughts. "You're partnered with Pidge. Hunk, you're with Keith."

Lance slumped while Hunk snickered at him. What a friend he was.

"Lance and Pidge have fifteen doboshes to rescue the gladiator from Hunk and Keith," Allura said from the booth.

"Only fifteen?!" Lance said, alarmed.

"Scared we'll beat you, Lance?" Keith asked with a smirk.

"Oh, no," Lance said quickly, recovering his usual bravado, "I'm scared it'll be too easy for us!"

To his relief and glee, Pidge was quick to take his side. "Don't worry, Keith," she said, summoning her bayard. "We'll go easy on you."

"Ooh," said Hunk.

"Hunk, whose side are you on?" Keith demanded.

"Voltron's," said Hunk, grinning sheepishly.

"All right, enough trash talk," Shiro interrupted as the gladiator appeared in the center of the training deck. "Keith and Hunk, take your positions." When they retreated towards the center where the gladiator stood, looking very much like a trussed up damsel in distress, Shiro turned to Lance and Pidge. "You'll be starting at the edge of the maze."

"Because that went so well last time," Pidge said, shooting a look at Lance.

"Keith gave me bad directions!"

"No I didn't!"

"The maze will be visible," Allura quickly interrupted before the argument could escalate. "No one will be guiding you through it, so the walls being invisible would defeat the purpose of the exercise."

"Oh, good," said Lance, relieved.

Once everyone was in position, the maze went up. "You think the walls still shock?" Lance asked Pidge.

"Only one way to find out," she said.

"All right, begin!" called Allura.

"How do you want to do this?" Pidge wondered once they were inside the maze. They both had their shields up in preparation for the drones that would doubtlessly shoot at them once they drew closer to the center.

"What do you mean?"

They continued walking until they reached the first fork. "Can we check for dead ends and obstacles with your bayard?"

Lance shifted his grip on his rifle a bit, then shot the wall. He frowned as the wall absorbed the blast with scarcely a ripple of energy. "No," he said.

"Hmm," said Pidge. "Let's split up."

"Uh, let's not," Lance said. "There's a reason Shiro mixed us up the way he did."

A drone fired a shot from above and Lance put up his shield to cover both of them, Pidge huddling closer. "Okay," he said, grumbling. He shot the drone down easily as Pidge led them down a path at random.

"Fine," she said. "We won't split up." She raised the cuff of her armor and keyed in the maze. "But we need to keep track of where we're going in case we hit a dead end."

"Oh, good," quipped Lance, "I knew there was a reason I'd rather be stuck with you than with Keith."

"Stuck?" Pidge said, sounding offended. She put her shield at the appearance of another drone, which Lance promptly demolished with a single rifle blast.

"That came out wrong," Lance admitted.

Pidge only shot him an indecipherable look before leading him down another turn. When it proved to be a dead end, they doubled back on their path, Pidge making a note on her cuff's map, but not before attracting the attention of <several> drones.

One got Pidge in the shoulder. She gasped, clutching it, while Lance dove in to cover her. "Are you okay?" he asked once he took care of the drones.

"Fine," she said. "This armor is...it's good."

"Please, those drones aren't meant to hurt us," Lance scoffed.

"Then why bother asking me if I'm okay, genius?" Pidge demanded. She grabbed his arm and they continued down the path.

"Twelve doboshes remaining!" Allura called.

Lance groaned. "Great."

"We have time," Pidge reassured him. When they got to the fork that initially messed them up, they went the other way. At the next corner, they turned inside.

"We should be approaching the center," Pidge reasoned when they were attacked by another hoard of drones.

"We haven't seen Hunk or Keith yet," Lance pointed out.

"They might be guarding the gladiator more closely," said Pidge. "It depends on what sort of strategy they've taken. But knowing Keith...and Hunk..." She trailed off and, for some reason, smirked. "This will be too easy."

"Explain," Lance said as they rounded another corner and chose another fork.

"Simple," said Pidge. "Keith is brash, he'll attack to head us off without considering he's supposed to guard the gladiator. And Hunk may be reasonable, but he's not forceful enough to convince Keith to be patient."

Lance covered her from drone attack as she recorded their progress on her map. Meanwhile, Allura warned them they were down to eight doboshes.

"We'll probably have to worry more about Hunk's blaster," Pidge added.

"Makes sense," said Lance.

"So who do you want to handle?" Pidge asked with a smirk.

"If you're right, then we can both take each of them down," said Lance, returning her smile.

Her grin widened, and Lance's heart fluttered. Why was he so <warm> suddenly?

"Got it," said Pidge. "I can trip them up with my bayard."

They had to double back from dead ends a couple more times, dodging drone fire the entire way and each taking a few painful - though not damaging - hits. Finally, the nature of the blasts changed, and sure enough Pidge could see Hunk firing at them from a distance.

"Think you can stun him from here?" Pidge asked Lance as Allura warned there were only five doboshes left.

"Yeah," said Lance, hefting his rifle and sighting down the barrel at Hunk. "But where's Keith?"

Pidge moved quickly, standing with her back to Lance's and putting up her shield. Out of the corner of his eye Lance saw her shoot the grapple on her bayard, right as a sword hilt collided with his shoulder, knocking him into Pidge.

"Okay, we screwed up," Pidge conceded from beneath him.

Lance stared up at Keith, who smiled smugly down at him. "No, no, we can still win," he said.

"Can you?" said Keith. He positioned himself between them and Hunk.

Then something occurred to Lance.

"Hey, Pidge," he said, quietly enough that he thought Keith wouldn't hear.

"What?" she said.

"We're not at the center of the maze."

Pidge stared at him, eyes wide with alarm, as she checked her map. "Oh," she said.

"Oh," Lance agreed.

"Three doboshes!" yelled Allura.

Drones attacked indiscriminately from above, forcing Keith to dodge and shield as well, which ended up being their saving grace.

"If Hunk is over there and Keith is over here," Lance said to Pidge as they took cover, "then that means the gladiator is unguarded!"

"We can still salvage this!" Pidge agreed. She grabbed Lance by the hand, tugging him in the opposite direction.

"HEY!" Keith yelled from behind them.

"Ha, suck it, Keith!" Lance called from over his shoulder. The momentary lapse in attention cost him a hit to the knee though. "Ow," he mumbled.

Pidge snickered.

Finally, they spotted the gladiator tied up in a corner. "It's likely that Hunk can make it around from the other direction," said Pidge. "Cover me." She darted forward, but Lance held her back.

"I know we're almost out of time, but we still need to be a little more cautious."

"Ideas?"

"Hmm." Lance considered. "Use your grappling hook."

"It'll still be vulnerable to drone fire."

Lance looked up, his rifle following his line of sight. "Let me worry about that."

Pidge shot her grapple towards the gladiator. The line looped around its legs, and Pidge retracted it, pulling the robot in. As if the act had attracted them, several drones appeared and Lance started shooting them down, until he noticed a few shifting their attention.

Sure enough, there was Hunk at the other end.

"Two doboshes!"

"Ah, shoot," Lance hissed. He and Hunk were both forced to fight off drones, but by then Pidge had grabbed the gladiator.

"I'll carry it and guide us," she said. "You cover."

"Got it," Lance agreed, following her back the way they came.

Keith was waiting for them at the fork, his shield up to protect himself from Lance's fire. And Lance heard footsteps behind him, signaling Hunk's arrival.

"Guess we're doing it this way," Pidge said. She handed the gladiator off to Lance before he could say anything, then shot her grapple towards Keith. He leaped back from it, but unable to avoid it, it tangled in his legs, tugging him down.

"Agh!" he yelled, trying to disentangle himself.

Pidge tugged him towards them while Lance covered her, his shield angled towards Hunk, who still approached. A drone got him in the shoulder <again>, but at this point he didn't even flinch.

Keith still struggled against Pidge's grapple line, but then Pidge said, "Trade!"

"What?" Lance said, momentarily stunned as Pidge handed him her bayard and took the gladiator back from him. She activated her shield.

Keith managed to make it to his feet, but Lance understood what Pidge wanted. He pulled Keith closer, then, straining his muscles, he spun him around and swung him into Hunk.

They went down in a pile, the drones focusing on two weaker targets and giving Lance and Pidge a break.

"Ha!" Lance said. "In your faces!"

"Escape now, boast later!" said Pidge, swapping the gladiator for her bayard again.

"Right," said Lance, right as Allura warned, "One dobosh!"

They still had to dodge the drones on their way out, but with Pidge's guidance and Lance shielding, they escaped the maze with tics to spare.

Lance dropped the gladiator and fell over, exhausted, his arms sore. Pidge took off her helmet and collapsed next to him, her forehead resting on the cooler floor.

"Time is up!" Allura said, lowering the maze's walls.

Lance watched idly as Keith and Hunk lowered their shields and dismissed their bayards, slumping dejectedly on the ground.

Shiro approached them, kneeling to be closer to their level. "Well done," he said, helping first Pidge and then Lance into sitting positions.

Pidge leaned into Lance, resting her head on his shoulder, her sweaty hair tickling his face. He smiled, and though it was a bit of an effort on his part to remain upright, he managed to reach up and ruffle her hair.

Shiro and the princess both debriefed them on their efforts - what they did well, what they could still work on - over a hearty dinner of green goo. Lance hardly paid attention, too tired and sore and hungry.

And too aware.

Pidge sat between him and Hunk, who kept shooting a snide smile in Lance's direction (in contrast to Keith, who was still put-out by their loss earlier). She had her chin propped on her hand as she listened to Shiro and Allura, a glassy look in her eyes.

When they finished, almost everyone made their way to the common room, intent on some relaxation before bed.

"Better luck next time, Keith," said Lance, smirking.

Keith rolled his eyes but didn't bother retorting, keeping his attention focused on whatever he was reading.

Hunk had busied himself with an Altean puzzle of some kind, a bunch of interlocking pieces he was supposed to disentangle. Shiro, Allura, and Coran were in the corner, talking like the adults they were. Pidge was the only one missing.

Lance, bored, decided to find her.

He tried her room first, but was not surprised when she didn't answer. Then he made his way to the Green Lion's hangar, her most frequent haunt.

"Pidge?" he called. "You in here?"

Lance smiled when he spotted her, resting at her desk with her head pillowed on her arms. He approached and knelt next to her. "Hey," he whispered, "you gonna spend the night here?"

She jerked up, startled, her hand shooting out and clocking him in the throat.

"Ow!" he said, rubbing his neck. "Is that any way to treat your training partner?"

Pidge blushed. "Sorry, Lance," she said. Then she narrowed her eyes. "You were the one who woke me up."

"Because your desk doesn't make a good bed," he pointed out. "Come on, I'll walk you to your room."

"No, I have a lot of work to do." She rubbed her eyes, nodding towards the open holoscreens displaying a mixture of Altean and Galra text.

"Uh, yeah, you've done plenty today already," Lance said, grabbing Pidge's hand.

To his surprise - and pleasure - she didn't snatch it away. Instead, she huffed and stood. "Fine," she said. "Lead the way."

"You're going to come right back after I leave you, won't you?"

Pidge glared at him, then sighed. "I hate you," she said, allowing him to lead her away from the Green Lion and out of the hangar.

"No, you don't," Lance said, laughing.

"You're right, I don't."

It was scarcely a declaration of love, but the admission nevertheless brought heat to his cheeks.

"Ah, look how far we've come," Lance teased, smiling down at her. "A year ago you resisted my friendship and avoided me and Hunk outside of the simulator, and now here we are."

Pidge yawned, but Lance thought she smiled behind the hand that hid her mouth. "You could say our relationship has progressed by lightyears," she joked.

Lance laughed, his chest warm. He turned and wrapped Pidge in his arms, his chin nestled in her hair.

She stiffened, but before he could step away, she returned his embrace, her arms around his back, her forehead pressed into his collar. "You're a good friend, Lance," she said. "I don't...I don't deserve you."

"Sure you do, Pidge," he said, rubbing her back. Something in her tone broke his heart, and he needed to reassure her.

Pidge shook her head but didn't argue. Lance thought, Now, this is the time, tell her what she means to you and that you don't deserve her.

"Pidge, I--"

"Lance, Pidge!"

Pidge turned her head but didn't move away from Lance. There was Hunk, standing in the entrance of the Green Lion's hangar.

Lance glared at him over Pidge's head, and Hunk floundered a bit, looking sheepish. "Coran made this strange Altean dessert," he said quickly and apologetically, "and he and the princess insisted we try it."

"Okay," said Pidge. She shrugged and withdrew from Lance's arms, and he instantly missed her warmth. They followed Hunk back to the common room, and Lance glanced at Pidge from the corner of his eye.

"Later," he promised her.

"Later what?" she said, confused.

Lance shrugged and grinned. "We can figure that out, you and I."

She rolled her eyes, but the smile she flashed him was everything.