#over an animal that just. just kinda sucks!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshifighting · 17 hours ago

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I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️

staff!woozi

WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.

staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.

you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”

you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”

he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.

he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”

“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.

“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.

“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.

he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”

staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.

“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”

he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”

staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.

“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.

“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.

he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”

his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.

staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.

but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”

you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.

he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”

“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”

next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.

staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.

so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng

“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.

he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.

when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.

you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.

it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.

but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.

“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.

“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.

staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.

but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.

and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.

woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.

staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.

you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.

you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”

he glances over, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”

“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”

you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”

he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”

you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”

you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”

your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.

he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.

you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.

“so… you heard that?”

his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.

“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”

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passionateseadruid · 11 hours ago

Text

That time Lucifer turned his best friend into a duck

Cw:slight Yandere elements

Lucifer sat on his thrown with a big yellow duck on his lap.

Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.

—+—

"Lucifer you need to get out of your workshop!" You tried to open the door to his workshop. He'd been in there for 4 days straight and everyone was starting to get worried! (It was more like just you and Charlie (and Vaggie because Vaggie cares about whatever Charlie cares about) but still, he had people who were worried sick about him)

"No! I'm fine! I just need to put the finishing touches on my tropical vacation duck and I'll be right out!"

"You have said that every hour I came by! First it was cowboy duck, then it was bunny duck, then it was maid dress duck, and last time it was steampunk duck! What will it be next time? Maybe a Vaporeon duck or a witch duck?" You huff.

"OOOOH! Wait let me write that down!" He said excitedly

"LUCIFER!!" You groaned and struggled with the golden doorhandle.

"Come on, apple-tart! Just one more duck!" Lucifer begged.

You finally decided to try lock-picking the lock. "Sorry Duckie, but this is for your own good!"

"Wait! No! Please! I'll do anything! Just let me make one more duck!"

You finally heard the lock click and the door handle finally turned. You opened the door as Lucifer screamed and a gold light came at you faster than you could react. When your vision came back you were standing only a foot off the ground, the world towered before you.

Lucifer... WHY AM I SHORTER THAN YOU!

You said in your mind but all that came out was "Quack! Quack Quack!"

"Well um... is that really important? The important thing is that I'm not the shortest person in the room for once!"

Ugh... of course you understand duck.

"Wait! How'd you know you're a duck now?"

It's kinda obvious. I mean, what other animal quacks?

"oh… well shit.”

Lucifer! I don't want to be a duck!

"But you're so cute as a duck." He stuck his bottom lip out and pouted.

Don't you dare do that! You know I can't say no to you when you look so sad.

"I'm just saying… a real best friend would do whatever it takes to make me happy…"

That's incredible manipulative and hypocritical! As my best friend you should respect my wish to not be a duck!

"But…" He tried to think of some way to persuade you. "If… if you were a duck, I’d pamper you… and then we’d both have our needs taken care of!"

You promise that if I let you pamper me in duck form you’ll take care of yourself? You asked skeptically.

"I promise." He nodded, pride dripped in his voice.

…fine! I will stay a duck… BUT JUST FOR TODAY!! You’re turning me back tomorrow!

Lucifer squealed in delight and scooped you up to hold you in his arms. It sucks being shorter than Lucifer.

—+—

At first he was just cuddling you and brushing out your feathers.

Lucifer... how is this helping either of us?

"It's making you look pretty, and in turn that bolsters my reputation." He said proudly.

WHAT REPUTATION? YOU'RE A HERMIT! YOU NEVER LEAVE THE PALACE UNLESS CHARLIE INVITES YOU OVER!

"Shh... apple pie, just let me have this. It feels good doesn't it?"

...

"Apple pie?"

I plead the fifth.

—+—

Next it was feeding you.

"Here!" He feed you grape by individual grape.

Lucifer, you don't need to feed me by hand. I may not have opposable thumbs anymore but that doesn't mean that I'm a helpless baby.

"I know, but I'm pampering you! You promised that I could pamper you." He booped your beak.

I suppose I did...

"Good, now shut up." He pushed one more grape into your mouth

You are eating yourself right?

"Of course! Two for you... and one for me." He popped a grape in his mouth and scritched under your chin.

ahhhh... You quacked purred in delight.

You looked up to see Lucifer had the most smug look on his face. "See? I knew you enjoyed being my pet~"

The double entendre was not lost on you. You were so glad that you were a duck right now so Lucifer couldn't see how absolutely flustered you were.

You stepped on a grape, spraying it's juices all over you. What a shame. Guess we have to put this little conversation on hold while you bathe me.

He smirked like he just won the argument. "You're not exactly helping your case." He teased.

Just get the bubbles going...

—+—

Then it was bathing you.

He starts to take off his vest and unbutton his shirt.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

"What does it look like I'm doing? I don't want to get my clothes wet." He rolled his eyes.

B-but... why do you need to be shirtless?! Don't you have a tank top or a robe or something to put on?!

His smirk became devious. "Do I make you... nervous?"

Please don't be weird while I'm in a duck body

"Good point." He picked you up and dropped you over the tub. "Now let's get that purple out of your beautiful feathers, shall we?"

Mhm! You smiled and leaned into his hands. His charcoal hands were softer than expected. His fingers were tender as they worked the shampoo through your soft, delicate, yellow feathers. Maybe being a duck wasn't so bad. Maybe being his pet wasn't so bad.

—+—

So that's basically how you got here. Wrapped in a towel, in Lucifers lap (while he sat above the residents of hell on his throne), as he pet you again.

Duckie... 'm tired...

"You're tired apple pie?" He smiled softly at you.

mhm...

"wanna go to bed?" He offered and walked toward his room

Want you to hold me too... you need your sleep...

He laughed. "I know, apple pie. I know."

You promise you'll stay with me?

"I promise." He laid down with you on his chest.

—+—

The next morning he woke up before you did...

And he saw you back in your normal form... but instead of the clothes you were in when you were turned...

you were in nothing more than a feather silk robe...