#scarfs are so good for burrowing

[pencilofawesomeness]

Natsu 3A :]

I think he should be allowed to turtle into his scarf when he's upset

[butterflyscribbles]

Freenoodle Headcanons (Part 1) - bc there’s no way I’ll have time to draw them all out fast enough and I need to get them out of my brain:

Hidden underneath bc it’s loooong…

- Tang and Pigsy met in a college-level business class. Pigsy was going for a general business major with a minor in culinary arts. Tang was pursuing Chinese Literature and Lingustics in order to eventually be a librarian or museum archivist as well as an author on the side. They started interacting more bc Tang threatened to call Pigsy out for cheating on an exam and Pigsy “bought” his silence with a bowl of homemade noodles.

- It started with “blackmail” that Tang was gonna tell if Pigsy ever stopped making food for him but gradually they just started hanging out. Pigsy began to realize that if it weren’t for him, Tang would have most likely wasted away considering he was not only a picky eater but would also completely forget meals while being so focused on his studies. Tang in return started helping Pigsy with study before big exams as well. It became routine until they both finished the class. That was one of the only classes they had together being on pretty separate tracks but by then they were close enough friends to continue hanging out semester after semester.

- Tang’s family was not too fond of him hanging out with Pigsy and eventually Sandy who had a bit of a rebellious (and somewhat criminal) hot streak. Lots of being kicked out of bars for fighting, loud music and band parties that somehow would force them to migrate into Tang’s apartment after they trashed their own.

- Tang used to have pierced ears that were Pigsy’s own handiwork but his mom made him take them out the minute he visited home. He wants to get them pierced again even now because he loved how it looked but is lowkey too chicken to act on it bc ouchieeee needles it was hard enough the first time

- They never really defined themselves as dating out loud in college but they were definitely “more than friends” after a while. Pigsy crushed on him first but Tang fell harder once he finally caught on that Pigsy liked him. They were both too emotionally constipated scared to slap an official label on it though.

- Tang is almost always freezing and wrapped up in sweaters, scarves and mittens. Pigsy is always hot. Equilibrium achieved.

- Speaking of scarves, Tang’s trademark red scarf and most precious comfort item he owns, was a gift from Pigsy’s mother when Pigsy introduced him to his parents. He is almost never without it and takes very good care of it because it is hand-made and one of a kind.

- Tang was NOT a fan of the Pigsy mustache era™️ but that did not stop the pig man from burrowing his face onto him and teasing him near to death with prickly kisses

- Pigsy’s affectionate nickname for Tang became “truffles” for a hot second after this^^ Tang secretly and begrudgingly loved it. The nickname is still stashed away for special occasions and ONLY when its the two of them.

- The mirror to that is Tang found out Pigsy’s weak spots were his ears and under his chin. Loves scritches and sometimes Tang would just reach out and idly play with his ears if they were within reach. That’s also something that occurs in present time.

- On rare occasions, Tang would convince Pigsy to sing for him and most of those moments ended in tears both of sadness or laughter on both ends. Mostly because Pigsy would either sing songs his mom taught him or ones he could only half remember the lyrics to.

- They stayed in contact for a while even after Pigsy graduated (Tang was pursuing a PHD so he stayed in school longer). Tang and Sandy were both there when the restaraunt was passed down to Pigsy and they were the first customers at Pigsy’s Noodles.

Things got a bit more complicated after that…

- For about 5 months before MK came into their lives, Tang and Pigsy were actually having a huge fight and were not on speaking terms. Sandy’s anger and violence issues were at an all time high and he dropped out of college just before graduating, Pigsy and Tang struggled to define their relationship after they Tang’s family was insistent he finally cut them out of his life and it lead to a big fight where Sandy ended up leaving the trio and there was a huge and bitter rift between the three of them.

- Three weeks after Pigsy’s mom passed, little MK showed up on his doorstep. He was already running the shop alone for the first time and now he suddenly had a child who desperately needed him. While MK brought some much needed light back into his life, he struggled to properly care for the little ball of energy and still make end’s meet. His quick temper and the passing of his mom had seriously impacted business and chased off a lot of regulars as it was. So, he called the only person he trusted to help. The minute Pigsy explained his situation…Tang didn’t hesitate to come back, even as he continued classes. Things were awkward and messy for sure and there was a lot of baggage to sort through…but they made it work for their little monkey kid.

Okay that’s it ta ta for now part two is going to be Freenoodle Family focused I wanted this one to be more on the early days before MK to set it all up.

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[saphig-iawn]

Urgent Searches - part 2

[part 1]

"A fucking plushie?!", Melody was incensed. The air in the homely kitchen bristled.

"Look, it was tough day alright! Bus was late, my lunch exploded in my bag, and- you can't just walk slow in front of people who are clearly trying to get somewhere!", Dina parried, rather unsuccesfully.

"She was walking slowly?! That was her crime, insufficient speed?!" Melody pressed her temples so hard she could've taken a screenshot of the prickly feeling of exasperation that was nagging at her head, "If you had to do something, right? If retaliation, and I am using that word in the achingly loosest definition of the term possible, was something you needed to do, there were so many things you could have done-" Melody was now staring through Dina, her hands poised to start counting on each finger with increasing emphasis, "You could've had her stub her toe later in the day, you could've made her clothes ever so slightly too clingy, you could've had the wind blow a strand of hair into her mouth, you could-"

"These are sounding a bit specific." Dina smirked.

"No- nonono, you don't get to claim any high ground here, I am not the one who cursed a poor woman to become a plushie! Do you even know where she went? Did anyone see you do it?"

Dina shrank a little in her skin; Melody was getting serious.

"We're going to find her, c'mon." Melody declared, shooting up from the dining chair she was sat on. The chair squeaked on the tile of the kitchen floor as if surprised by the sudden dismounting.

Dina folded her arms in faux tantrum, and was about to say no before clocking Melody aiming a hand at her ready to snap her fingers.

"Fine... look I was going to, at some point. Y-you always-"

Melody's eyes narrowed as her fingers tensed, the witching world's equivalent to pulling back the hammer on a trusty revolver.

"Fine." Dina conceded.

Melody holstered her hand, and smiled with smug triumph.

- - -

Dina was sulking on the walk to where she placed the curse on the woman. She made sure to scowl at the back of Melody's head at every moment she could. She knew she was going to look for the woman, that she just needed a bit of time to vent about it and feel like justice had been served. She made the point to stomp her feet a little harder so Melody at least know how annoyed she was.

"I can't believe you thought it would be a good idea to brag about that curse to me" Melody spoke, her voice carrying out into the street ahead of her, a pointed playfulness laid upon her words like a zest. She knew she had the room to be a little mean.

Dina's hackles raised a little, especially after Melody was so severe about whether or not her curse was witnessed and was now talking about magic out loud.

"Well, we do have our little witch moments, I thought you'd be sympathetic at least-"

"Oh I am," Melody interrupted, "but like, c'mon, there's a plushie somewhere completely helpless, who was a woman of flesh and blood. Something's gotta be done."

"...yeah." Dina burrowed into her scarf. The warmth of her pea coat bringing her a little comfort.

"You said it was near the bus stop by the mechanic's right?" Melody called back over her shoulder.

"Yeah, right there-", Dina pointed, completely out of Melody's vision.

They both crossed the rain slicked road; its dark surface made a little brighter by the diffuse grey sky above. Melody skipped a little, which Dina noted. A tiny pebble of concern sank in Dina's gut, Melody was concocting something in that mind of hers.

Melody quickly glanced about before flicking her hand in a quick gesture. For a moment her fingers seemed to trail in the air like ghosts in a photograph as they fanned out and then returned to a clenched fist.

"Ooh we were close, there's just enough a trace of your magic here for us to get a trail." Melody announced, pride aglow on each word, "If we were a few minutes out, we likely woulda missed it." She turned to Dina with a half accusative raised eyebrow. She then looked down at Dina's ragged old boots. The laces were barely present, and they were so loose on Dina's feet that it was a miracle they weren't lost along the way. "They didn't help."

"Uh- hey! Haven't I been put through enough chastising already?" Dina barked, letting a little more annoyance out than she intended.

"Not yet" Melody winked.

Oh fuck, I knew she was gonna-, thought Dina, but that thought got cut short by a finger snap that reverberated through her like the ringing of a grand bell.

Dina's vision tunnelled, a bright circle of overcast sky becoming a moon in the darkness she felt herself in.

Wordlessly, Dina thought the darkness felt familiar. It smelt of home, of her room, of her. Raw confusion rippled in her mind, and then she realised she wasn't in some realm. The tunnel of her vision was a real tunnel, namely her coat and scarf. It was as if she was propelled backwards through the garments as they stretched out before her.

She then realised how unshaped her thoughts had become. When she usually thinks there are words and syntax and convention that frame them from years of living, but these thoughts felt raw, undressed.

She felt small, or, condensed? The feeling was strange. It was like she was pressed into a mold, feeling equal parts comfy and constrained.

Then a scent hit her. It filled her head. It bloomed and twirled like iridescent flowers, showing colours unseen before to her. It was magic. Her magic.

The tunnel collapsed, and small panic set in, but she felt herself planted on the floor. She felt safe, grounded.

The window into the real world suddenly became Melody's face.

"There we go, this should speed things up! C'mon!" Melody chirped.

Dina's heart leapt at that simple word. C'mon. It echoed in her mind and her heart, pure excitement and eagerness bubbled up. She tried to fight it but her resistance melted away, or at least it was reshaped into something more compliant.

Yes, yes, that sounds good, I want come, that sounds fun, Dina's thoughts were pure and without the restriction of language, Why do I want to go, was I annoyed, I was, but going somewhere sounds so fun, what is happening, what did she do to me, why am I so happy, oh we're going somewhere, that's why!

Melody, kneeling down, reached into the pile of pea coat and scarf and pulled out a dog.

The dog was already panting, tail wagging.

"Right, follow this!" Melody encouraged, holding out two fingers that gathered a little trace of the magic left behind from Dina's curse.

Follow! Oh yes, I can do that, yes, follow, Dina's mind blossomed again with the scent of magic, but these flowers stretched into tendrils and vines like runaway ivy down the pavement of the street.

Dina burst out an excited bark and wriggled out of Melody's arms. She scampered to and stood at the street corner and looked back at Melody expectantly.

She barked.

Melody took into a jog to follow the far more helpful and even far less grumpy Dina.

- - -

I am really enjoying writing this. What started as a fun way to show transformation, as now become a story I want to pursue and tell so if you would like to see more fiction writing like this, then please support me over at https://ko-fi.com/saphig, where you can also commission writing of your own.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 5

AN: I cannot believe my silly lil MBC ramblings have turned into this. This is a combination of that one request mentioning the "I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot" and another requesting Witch! Reader! I kind of took some creative liberties because this idea just like...hit me and I was like. If i dont write this rn im gonna crash out. Again, don't look too hard into the logic of this, it's a toon world :)

-> Part one

-> Part Two

-> Part Three

-> Part Four

☁ Sprout knew, intimately so, at this point that you, his loving, darling, amazing partner, could be so, so dumb it was alarming you've lasted this long.

☁ He loves you. He does. So much it hurts. But you literally are the embodiment of every chaotic impulsive thought he's sure they've all had. The only difference is that you do it.

☁ Which. Come on. Like, there has to be a learning moment. Where you turn over a new stone or rock or however that saying goes and you don't toe the line of twisted RnD's boundary, keeping them awake just to tease the twisted since they couldn't reach you. There had to be.

☁ He should've known it was too good to be true, at the beginning of the relationship, when things went too smoothly for him. Too good to be true.

☁ Truthfully, you're all little demons. He knew you were all hiding it, but to see it in person? He's getting gray leaves.

☁ Astro likes to play this game where he follows whoever's distracting, most times you, to see how close he can get to the twisted without them noticing. It drives Sprout, and even Cosmo, nuts watching it even if they know he's practically invisible to the twisteds.

☁ That does not stop him from being seen every once in a while when he gets too cocky, but he's quick to evacuate the area while you get the twisteds attention once more.

☁ Every lecture seems to go in one ear and out the other though as the very next run, unless it's a blackout, he's doing it again. (So maybe I play like this what of it-).

☁ Cosmo is normally pretty clever about how he does runs and is often the least of his worries. Unless there's a call for a bandage.

☁ From there it's like a race between him and Cosmo. Cosmo immediately drops whatever he's doing and takes off towards the source of the call. Sprout as well has to take off because sure enough, Cosmo doesn't take into account it's in the area you're distracting in, and Sprout can only watch as you realize he's in the area, panic to figure out an alternative route, get smacked by a twisted Teagan as Cosmo nearly gets bit by the Twisted Boxten.

☁ All of that for a bandage. For Cosmo who was at full health.

☁ Sprout has to step in, calling the Twisted's attention with a spare airhorn he found, giving you the chance to recover as Cosmo passes you a treat and a frantic apology, quickly leaving the area as he slaps said bandage on.

☁ The twisteds are returned to you as Sprout ducks behind a wall, trying to ease the rapid pounding of his heart. He cannot keep having the same conversations.

☁ Cosmo is unlike Astro as he shows actual remorse, immediately apologizing and saying that he wasn't thinking he just didn't want anyone else to take it, turning on the waterworks as he burrows into Sprout's scarf.

☁ You're already saying they're crocodile tears (They are) with Astro snickering at the action, but Sprout is a weak man. He falls for it every time, immediately breaking and cooing that it was just an accident and these things happen, Cosmo just needs to be more careful.

☁ And then there's a call for a med-kit the next floor and it happens ALL OVER AGAIN.

☁ So, yeah, you're all demonic gremlins and Sprout is the unfortunate victim of it. He's just as bad outside of runs though, don't worry.

☁ But you. Oh you. Are by far. The worst for his heart.

☁ He already doesn't like the fact that as a distractor, you're constantly in danger, but you know what he doesn't like more? The fact that you don't seem to take it as serious as you should.

☁ He's lost count of how many times you've run past him, shouting some sort of argument with Goob who was also distracting. How you've paused to emphasize a point and Goob's had to snatch you to save you from getting hit.

☁ Or how many times you've climbed onto a table, out of the twisted's reach but close enough to keep their attention, hands on your hips as you go on about some theory you heard about.

☁ He won't admit it, but his favorite thus far is that Dandy's actually bald and the petals are all fakes.

☁ Or the one where you claim Twisted Toodles has rabies, while Twisted Toodles snaps and snarls at your feet, clawing at the table.

☁ And when you're back in the elevator, and he's got you corner, going on and on about how idiotic of a move that was and why would you even think of doing that? You give him a grin and a cheeky smile.

☁ "I may be an idiot, but remember. I'm your idiot. FOREVER." You'd preen, cackling as he debates between throttling you or kissing you enough you're too dazed to think about running and he has to drag you behind him the next floor.

☁ Little did Sprout know that a turning point would come.

☁ He knew Dandy and you had your differences, as you were managing to get the research needed and reclaiming the other toons back to the good side while spending the minimal amount of tapes. (Not that it helped when a certain survivalist toon was on the run, but he digresses.)

☁ This time however, you were adamantly refusing to hand over any tapes and Dandy was close to crashing out. His eye was twitching as he glowered at you, you're own sneer rivaling his. "Why should I give you the tapes if I can give them to Sprout?" You'd snarl, making Dandy slam his hands on the desk.

☁ "Fine! Be that way then!" He snapped, yanking on the lever to bring him back down.

☁ "Was that really our best move?" Vee raised a brow at the closed hatch, nudging it with her foot.

☁ "Maybe we could've spared some for a stopwatch or something." Gigi added, reaching into her head to pull out a can of pop. "I don't know if his twisted form is something I'm all too excited to deal with."

☁ While Sprout agreed, he also didn't want Dandy to win. But still, Dandy's twisted form was lethal and he didn't fancy seeing your twisted form. Not after Astro had told him how even you, yourself, had feared it and what it was capable of.

☁(Guys not to spoil anything, but you'll never guess what else is in the works from that line alone lol)

☁ They hadn't seen any clones of your twisted form yet, but weren't eager to.

☁ You gave a wave of your hand dismissively. "Nah, it looks big but it really isn't that bad."

☁ None of them looked convinced.

☁ You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Fine! if he shows up. I'll make sure to stick to an area Astro and a healer can remain nearby." You pout, though between him and the other two, Sprout can tell you're a little hurt.

☁ No matter what you do, or how you distract, you're number one priority is their safety. If there's a serious twisted, you're immediately doing a one-eighty, distracting like a pro. You only goof off when their twisteds you know inside and out. To have them doubt for even a second you wouldn't give up your own sanity for them, probably stings.

☁ Frowning, he sets a hand on your shoulder, tilting your chin up with his other hand. "You got this, bud. We know you do. We just wanna be a little cautious when it comes to Dandy."

☁ And he knows you know that, making you frown a bit more before huffing. "I know."

☁ Cosmo is quick to wrap his arms around you, giving you a bright smile. "Besides, you know how much we love watching you distract anyway."

☁ Which too a degree was true. They loved seeing you in your element, thriving and shining like a shooting star.

☁ By the time Sprout is looking back, you're smothered between Astro and Cosmo, pushing away their murmurs of praise with bundles of laughter bursting from you. It makes him grin.

☁ But then the elevator stills and opens, only there's no footsteps. There's no signs of any twisteds at all actually. No commons, no passives, no mains. Just...empty. It's unsettling.

☁ With a look to each other, you and Goob are the first to step out, remaining cautious of the room around you. When you both make it into the center area, the rest slowly step out.

☁ "Is this a free floor?" Finn asks, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

☁ "Even free floors have twisteds." Vee answers, bringing her mic in front of her and tapping it. "Is this thing working?"

☁ Nothing is highlighted save for a small, wrapped up bundle near the broken elevator.

☁ Since you're faster than Goob, you slowly step forward, you're entire body tense as you spot said bundle.

☁ Astro and Sprout remain close enough they can target you if needed with Goob on standby in case the worst happens. None of them have ever seen anything like this before and have no idea what it even is.

☁ Vee, Finn and Gigi move on to finish three of the machines with the fourth primed right next to elevator, all giving the signal to go.

☁ So you do. You walk up to it and begin by kicking it slightly. It doesn't move and you move to poking it. When nothing happens, you pick it up, examining it before slowly moving to open it. By the time the beige paper wrapped around it is pulled away, you're left with a small glass bottle. It looks like a smoke bomb.

☁ Rolling your eyes, you're already whining about how a smoke bomb got you all so riled up, dropping it front of you and watching it erupt into purple smoke around your figure.

☁ In hindsight, that should've been a sign. The final machine is finished and the elevator re appears, a few scattered giggles ringing out at the fluke floor.

☁ But you aren't laughing like normal.

☁ Sprout notices immediately, glancing at Astro and Cosmo, who are already looking at him. They've noticed it too.

☁ Just as they're about to say something, the cards plop down, and you immediately vote on the Penny pincher one, turning to them with a soft, almost strained smile.

☁ "Are you...feeling okay, bud?" Sprout asks, watching as Astro rests the back of his hand on your forehead. His grimace does little reassure them.

☁ "Do you need a heal?" Cosmo pipes up next, placing a hand on Sprout's shoulder as he does. "Or a pop? Maybe you have low blood sugar."

☁ You shake your head, which seems like a bad move as you sway, Astro having to catch you as you stumbled.

☁ "Okay, I'm calling it-" Sprout's declaring as he steps towards the lever to return to the lobby before you're stopping him with a call of his name.

☁ "Sprout! No, I'm fine, just a little dizzy! It'll pass. We need the shelly research!" You had been positively adamant on getting shelly back since getting Vee, knowing she was the last main. They were sure it's because you knew Shelly and Astro were good friends and that was probably influencing your need to get it done as fast as possible.

☁ "Starlight, I'm sure it can wait." Astro adds, holding you much closer as you continue to sway. "You can barely stand upright and you have a fever. How long have you been feeling unwell?"

☁ "I was fine!" Your face scrunches as you fight for balance. "I promise. I don't know what happened!"

☁ The voting ends and everyone is immediately rewarded with the tapes. Most are handed right over to Sprout, who pockets them in case of an emergency, but there's a disturbance. He can't feel the energy of the tapes as well as Dandy, or even Pebble for that matter, but he can tell the magic within them is wavering somewhere. Looking over, he can tell where.

☁ "Bud?" He prods once more, and your head shakes again, this time taking our your legs as punishment for the movement. Astro once more catches you as Sprout demands the run be finished, Vee already at the lever, while Cosmo leaves his side to check you over.

☁ By all accounts, on the surface, you're fine. But Sprout can tell. He can feel it in the wave the magic of the tapes seems to cling to you. Looking at Astro, he can tell too.

☁ Maybe bringing you away from the tapes until...whatever this is passes is for the best, despite your refusals.

☁ The elevator is brought up and Astro scoops your form into his arms and against his chest, carrying you out and in the direction of your room.

☁ "You guys are as stubborn as mules!" You scoff out, struggling against the hold your in. "I'm fine. It was a dizzy spell! It-" You pause as you groan, curling into yourself and making Astro freeze. Sprout and Cosmo are right there, hands already buzzing with energy, yet, it's not needed.

☁ With the close proximity, he can feel the magic in the tapes get yanked, pulled into a physical manifestation. Then there's a scream. Looking over, they watch Finn scramble to get away as a donkey manifests itself in front of him. It's made out of tree bark and sticks with leaves for a mane, standing there and giving a bored bleat.

☁ You look over at it from Astro's shoulder, blinking at it and everyone's gaping face before wilting. "Okay, maybe it wasn't just a smoke bomb."

☁ There's a flurry of motion as Toodles runs towards her newly proclaimed pony, naming it Oakley of all things. Rodger is rushing, trying to pry her away while the others are trying to figure out just where Oakley came from.

☁ None of you stick around, the boys quickly bringing you to the bedroom and setting you on the bed. You look marginally better, leaning against Astro, who strokes your fur back, even as he watches Sprout pace in front of the bed. Cosmo is fiddling with his hands, standing to the side and bouncing in place as he opens his mouth over and over again, trying to find the words.

☁ Finally, the cake roll settles on, "What was that?"

☁ This stalls Sprout as he pauses, whirling on his heel to face you. "You used tape magic. How'd you do it?"

☁ You raise a brow at this, silently asking him to continue. He does so. "The only non-main who can use tape magic is Teagan. But she can't extend that to anyone or anything but herself. That's exclusive to mains. So how-" He pauses, brows furrowing. "The thing- the thing on the floor on that last floor!"

☁ It's like an epiphany. " But that-" He stalls, swallowing before shaking his head. He'd look into it further. "What are you feeling now? Better at all?"

☁ You hum for second, rolling your head as you take inventory. "A little better. Sore, but...better." You answer. "I didn't know I could do that."

☁ "Could it really be a side effect from...whatever that was?" Cosmo asks.

☁ "Hard to say. Like Sprout said, using Tape magic to influence anything but yourself is exclusive to mains." Astro frowns, taking in the information. "Which brings up an assortment of questions about your history and that object. Perhaps it's turned you into a momentary main."

☁ "I don't feel different though!" You exclaim, Sprout catching one of the hands you flung up. He pokes at your palms and fingers, finding soft pads of flesh. You yank it back. "I've always had those!" You defend.

☁ "Easy, bud, I was making sure they weren't injured." He soothes and you reluctantly let him look at them again.

☁ "Can you do it again?" Cosmo asks. "Like... It happened because you were thinking of an animal right? And that animal showed up? Can you do it again?"

☁ "I don't know if we should be testing this. We're unaware of what it needs or what it entails-" Astro quickly cuts in, but it's too late as you immediately shout out "Cat!" and like magic, a cat plops into Astro's lap.

☁ All of you stare at the thing, which is made up of whipped cream and cake, strawberries making up it's flickering ears and a blueberry for a nose. When it mews, Sprout stumbles back, tripping over himself as Cosmo screeches, poor Astro caught between being trapped by the thing and staying with you.

☁ You immediately coo at it, picking it up, and snuggling into it as it gives you a happy purr, licking your face. When you pull it away, you give your best puppy dog eyes, staring at your gaping boyfriends. "Can we keep them?"

☁ "Where did that come from?!" Sprout exclaims, hands coming up to yank at his leaves while Astro's mouth hands open, hands hovering as if unsure what to do at this point. If this was the stress he brought to Sprout's life, he owed the berry so many apologies because what.

☁ Cosmo was the first to recover before slowly crawling onto the bed, making you turn to face him with the creature. It continued purring happily, sniffing at the offered hand before nuzzling into it, prompting Cosmo to pet it. "I mean...It doesn't look dangerous."

☁ "It literally came out of nowhere." Astro gaped, watching as you transferred the cat from your arms to Cosmo's, who let it lick at his face. "That's a cat. There's a cat."

☁ Digging through his wallet, Sprout's eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "The tapes. You used my tapes-" He's not upset, not at all, but that kind of reach was really unheard of.

☁ "There's a cat." Astro repeats once more, standing as he runs two of hands through his fur. "Oh my stars, there's a cat. In our room."

☁ "Do you not like cats?" Cosmo asks, tilting his head as the...creature crawls onto his shoulder if only to jump to his head, giving soft licks to the icing on top. It makes the cake roll laugh, which you're echoing before turning to Astro. "I'm sorry. If I had known I would've chosen a different animal. We don't have to keep it I promise."

☁ Astro blinks, as if stunned by that's what you two were hung up on. "What? No. No, I don't mind cats, but starlight. My star, my sun, my galaxy," Astro takes a breath as his hands fall, save for one that rubs between his eyes. "You made a cat appear out of literal thin air. That's a...That's impossible in actuality."

☁ "Super impossible." Sprout agrees, watching the thing strut from Cosmo's head to jump onto yours. You go cross-eyed trying to look up at it, grinning as it meows at you with one paw landing on your cheek so it can lick at your head. You giggle at it before grabbing it, holding it against you as it seems to burrow into your chest. He's man enough to admit that he's jealous of the cat, sneering at it.

☁ "Well, evidently not." Cosmo snickers, using his fingers to poke at the cat's paws. Their paw pads are made of jelly beans and Sprout has to admit it's a little cute. Running a hand down his face, he groans, only to glare at Astro as he gentle runs a hand down the cat's head, getting a thankful lick in return. "Astro!"

☁ The celestial looks startled at being caught, looking at Sprout before shrugging. "You gotta admit. It's a cute little thing."

☁ "It's a she!" You add, almost unhelpfully. "You know, if you think about it, it's kind of like our child!"

☁ You make it an Olympic sport to see how fast you can get all three of them varying degrees of flustered, Sprout swears on it. He's left stammering, looking for help from Astro-who's blue screened, blinking blankly at the cat who paws at his still hand- and Cosmo- who's too busy hiding his face in a pillow.

☁ cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. This was fine. Taking a breath, Sprout urges himself to push whatever feelings that were bubbling in him at the action down, taking a soothing breath. "Bud, that's a cat." And because he couldn't help himself, he added, "Plus, we know our kid would look much cuter."

☁ You flush, just as he expected you too, hiding your face in the cat. The only thing you can come up with is, "Dandy got a dog. Why can't I have a cat?"

☁ "Because it won't stop at a cat." Sprout has to explain, thinking back to Oakley in the living room. "What if the next time it's- I don't know- a dinosaur?!"

☁ "It won't be a dinosaur." You argue back. "Maybe a friend for Custard."

☁ "We are not naming her Custard!" Sprout hisses only to groan as he realized you caught him in your trap, hearing your "a-hah!' proclaiming victory.

☁ "So we can keep her!" You cheer, even if Sprout is debating suffocating you in your sleep later. "No! We can't! Because then it's one, then two! Then we're crazy cat people!"

☁ "We would not-"

☁ "If that were the case, wouldn't we already have a dog, dinosaur and like at least two more cats?" Cosmo suddenly pops up, his cheeks still very rosy.

☁ "True, we got...her, simply by Y/N mentioning a cat and Oakley by them saying the word Mule. It hasn't happened again and I still have all of my tapes." Astro adds on, smoothing out his fur and hair, readjusting his cap. "Maybe it's worn off."

☁ "Quick, before it's too late try for a cat again!" Cosmo eagerly demands, despite both Sprout and Astro shouting 'No!' at the prospect.

☁ You ignore them, shouting out cat once more. The only reaction you get is the cat in your arms pawing at you. You slump, frowning at losing the aspect. "Dang." You sigh. "Well, at least we got you out of it."

☁ "We can't get rid of her!" Cosmo pleads, handing off your shoulder to look up at Astro and Sprout, who cast a glance at each other. "I promise I'll be more careful on runs if we keep her!" He adds quickly.

☁ "Oh! Me too!" You add, joining Cosmo in giving them the puppy dog eyes.

☁ With a heavy groan, Sprout looks at Astro, who's smiling softly at the two of you. When the celestial looks over, Sprout knows he's lost him. "...It's just one cat."

☁ Sprout groans again, looking up to the roof as if there's some being up there seeing the same bullshit he's seeing. They're probably laughing at him.

☁ "Fine! But we're not naming it Custard! And I expect you to keep your promises or I swear I'm going for that favorite Uncle award and giving Toodles a new pet." He finally relents, extending a finger to the cat, who licks it before jumping into his arms as you and Cosmo cheer. For what it was worth, that cat was pretty cute.

☁ The cat ends up being names Blueberry cake (get it get it-), Blu for short. She's a happy-go-lucky kitty who purrs and licks everyone when one of you is in the room, only to throw an absolute hissy fit when you leave. If Blue is left alone with anyone without having you, Cosmo, Sprout or Astro in sight, she refuses to let anyone touch her, hissing and swatting at anyone brave enough. The second one of you return though, she's all purrs and happy mews.

☁ She sleeps on pebble who sleeps on your bed, sorry I don't make the rules.

☁ Oakley is still around too, but stays outside where he prefers it. You obviously earned worlds greatest aunt/uncle/nibling for that, even if Rodger curses your name for it. Toodles loves it and thats the most important part.

☁ Blu also comes on runs sometimes! The first time it happens, it was an accident, but one that Sprout begrudgingly appreciates as she has an uncanny ability to sniff out tapes no matter how hidden they are.

☁ And before you ask, yes. Sprout absolutely is the dad that said he didn't want a pet and would now literally kill a man for Blu.

☁ As you said after all, she's pretty much your child :)

[mywhisperingwords]

frosted kisses | fred g. weasley

summary: a snowball fight ensues at midnight leading to a sweet moment between you and fred word count: 0.9k masterlist

The Burrow was a perfect picture of Christmas cheer. The scent of spiced cider and pine needles lingered in the air, and the warmth of the crackling fireplace was matched only by the easy, unrelenting chatter of the Weasley family.

You’d never spent Christmas like this before—surrounded by so much noise, so much love. Fred and George had practically kidnapped you from Hogwarts, insisting you couldn’t possibly stay behind and spend Christmas alone. “It’s an insult to the season,” Fred had declared, already stuffing your bag for you.

And now here you were, tucked into the coziest, most chaotic home you’d ever seen, watching Ginny and Ron squabble over a game of wizard’s chess while Mrs. Weasley hummed a Christmas carol in the kitchen. It should’ve felt perfect.

Still, as the evening settled and the others began retreating to their rooms, a strange heaviness crept in. The thought of going back to an empty Hogwarts after this—after the warmth and chaos of the Weasleys—made your chest tighten. So you slipped outside, seeking solace in the quiet snow-covered fields that surrounded the house.

The air was crisp and cold, but the stars above were impossibly bright, and the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots felt soothing. You tilted your head back to watch the sky, letting the cold nip at your cheeks.

“Figured I’d find you out here,” came a familiar voice, breaking the stillness.

You turned to see Fred Weasley striding toward you, his hands shoved into his pockets and his scarf askew. His hair caught the faint moonlight, and his cheeks were already pink from the cold.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked lightly.

“Not when someone’s off having a dramatic midnight moment without me,” he teased, stopping a few feet away. His grin softened as he studied you. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. Finally, you shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just… this is really nice. And I guess I don’t want it to end.”

Fred tilted his head, considering you for a moment. Then his grin returned, brighter than ever. “Right. We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This whole mopey, contemplative thing. Not on my watch,” he said firmly, bending to scoop up a handful of snow.

“Fred, don’t you da—”

The snowball hit you square in the shoulder, cutting off your protest. You gaped at him as he straightened, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Snowball fight,” he declared, already crouching to make another.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips as you grabbed your own handful of snow.

The next few minutes were utter chaos. Fred darted around like a mischievous child, dodging your throws while pelting you with surprising accuracy. You landed a few good hits, including one to his back that made him yelp in mock outrage.

“You’re in trouble now!” he called, sprinting toward you with a snowball in each hand.

You shrieked, ducking and trying to run, but the snow beneath your feet betrayed you. You slipped, landing on your back in a puff of white powder.

“Careful there—” Fred started, but in his haste to stop himself, he lost his footing as well.

The next thing you knew, he was sprawled on top of you, his weight pressing you into the snow. His hands braced on either side of your head, and his scarf dangled dangerously close to your face.

“Hi,” he said, his voice low and sheepish.

You both froze, laughter fading as you realized just how close you were. His breath puffed against your chilled skin, and the warmth in his eyes sent a flutter through your chest.

His gaze flickered down to your lips, and for a moment, you thought—

Before he could lean in, you grabbed a fistful of snow from beside you and plopped it squarely onto his head.

“Gotcha,” you said, grinning as his face turned from surprised to utterly betrayed.

Fred sputtered, shaking the snow from his hair as you dissolved into laughter beneath him. “You’re absolutely unbelievable,” he muttered, but there was no hiding the grin tugging at his lips.

“You deserved it,” you teased, still giggling.

Fred shook his head, his grin softening as he leaned down just slightly, close enough that your laughter caught in your throat. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your heart stuttered, but before you could say anything, Fred kissed you. It was warm and fleeting, like the softest touch of summer breaking through winter, and it left you breathless.

When he pulled back, you were still smiling, though your cheeks were now burning for an entirely different reason.

“Alright,” Fred said, sitting back on his knees and holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You win. You’re the champion of midnight snowball fights. Happy?”

“Very,” you replied smugly, though the warmth in your chest betrayed the casual tone.

Fred laughed, shaking his head again before leaning down to steal another kiss. This time, there was no snowball interruption—just the soft crunch of snow beneath you and the endless, starry sky above.

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

i really need a fic of this bad and i am not a good writer at alllll. okay just imagine with me real quick. also this is completely imaginative don’t come for me lol

!jealous joe !bengals fan bf !cheating

your boyfriend is a really big bengals fan. i mean has so much bengals memorabilia, friends and family love the bengals. he even grew up in the good old land of chili cheese coneys and graeters ice cream. well you never really were into football. it was kinda boring, kinda long, and could have your boyfriend in a sucky mood the whole day.

until…

you saw him.

joe burrow. he’s gorgeous, humble, and is so passionate about the game and his team. you were obsessed. so when your boyfriend one day invited you to an event where you may be able to meet him and have him sign something, you said yes.

you didn’t really have bengals merchandise at the time, so you borrowed your boyfriend’s bengals hat and scarf, and just wore a black outfit to match. you were standing at the fence, waiting for the team to come out to practice. you felt kinda antsy. you really hoped you would be able to meet joe. all of a sudden him and his team came out and everyone started screaming to get his attention. joe was signing jerseys and footballs. it was all a bit overwhelming. he got to you and your boyfriend, and did a double take a bit. your boyfriend was asking him to sign his poster, which he did, and you took out a little notebook. he smiled and looked you in the eye. your boyfriend didn’t notice this as he was already facetiming his friends about his interaction. joe didn’t give you his regular signature, but rather, wrote his name legibly and his phone number right underneath.

your eyes went wide. he laughed and headed to practice.

you went home and laid in bed. it was about 9 pm and you were still staring at the number. you decided not to tell anyone, as you didn’t want joe’s privacy to feel invaded. you put the number into your phone and texted him.

“hi. is this joe burrow? i am y/n. we met earlier today at your practice”.

he immediately texted back, you kinda freaked out.

“hey this is joe. it was nice to meet you earlier, y/n. your bengals hat was cute”.

you screamed into your pillow. you texted back.

“thank you! it wasn’t mine cause im just kind of getting into football haha”. you cringed at yourself, not really knowing how to respond.

“well, maybe i can teach you a few things sometime. maybe you can come to my house?”.

flash forward a few weeks later, you’re in joe burrow’s lap, with an oversized bengals jersey on and no pants, in his huge living room.

he’s kissing your neck and squeezing your ass, as he rocks you back and forth on his underwear clad dick. your phone is ringing on the coffee table. it’s your boyfriend.

“joe-“ you tried to say, but he’s trying to distract you with his tongue on your neck.

“joey!” you say exasperated. he pulls back and halts his movement.

“i gotta take this phone call”. he furrows his brows and looks to the side.

“you don’t even like him!” he responds, aggravated.

“i know, but i want to give him the news in a way where he won’t throw a fit. it’s not the right time” you respond.

here’s the thing about joe. he really likes you. ever since he gave you his number, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. he liked how interested you were in learning about him, whether it was about his football career, or who he was as a person. he didn’t care that you had a boyfriend, because he knew he wanted you.

but joe is a jealous guy. there’s only so much he can put up with. i mean, you’re sitting there in his lap, wearing HIS jersey. you have HIS hickeys on your neck, and your wetness is on his underwear. he’s not gonna put up with it anymore.

you’re on the phone saying hello as he pushes your back onto the couch. you had been making out for hours so you were fully ready for what was about to happen. your eyes grow wide at him as he takes your underwear off and pushes your knees to your shoulders. you’re so wet he audibly grunts.

“where are you at?” your boyfriend asks.

joe’s mouth is so close to your pussy it’s kinda hard to make up a lie.

“the grocery store?” you reply like you didn’t believe it yourself.

“oh okay cool”. he brushes it off. nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him as he only really wanted to rant to you about how the season is going so far with the bengals.

you let out a sigh and before you know it joe was sucking on your clit. you cover your mouth trying to avoid moaning on the phone, but joe removes your hand and holds it by your side. he’s licking long stripes up your hole to your clit, making you want to scream.

as good and toe curling joe’s mouth is, you’re able to keep some composure to keep the phone call normal. he’s still talking with no chance of stopping soon. you roll your eyes at the conversation and then see joe taking his underwear off. you can’t help but ogle. he’s longer than average and so so girthy. he always has to go slow putting it in so that you don’t go insane.

well he thinks you’re ready to go a little faster, and he’s desperate to be all the way in you.

your knees are still to your shoulders as he sticks his tip in. you bite your bottom lip hard as to not let out your moans. everything is fine.

until he puts himself all the way in in one swift motion, bottoming out in you. a moan escapes you.

“fuck you’re so tight” joe moans out.

your boyfriend catches on.

“what was that? are you at a guy’s house?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before joe is pounding into you hard and fast. his face is right above yours, and all you can do is moan. you drop the phone, not even caring because all you want is for joe to fuck you dumb.

“p-please daddy”. you have tears pricking the corners of your eyes. you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you just want him to keep fucking you.

“you like that baby? are you gonna cum on daddy’s dick?” he can feel you pulsating on his cock. he keeps hitting your g-spot.

“yes daddy i’m gonna cum” you grab the back of his head and he kisses you sloppily. you unravel beneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he continues using you, chasing his own high.

he’s grunting. mumbling how good you feel.

“please cum in me daddy”. you start to feel yourself wanting to unravel again. he fucks you with deep long strokes, until finally he cums deep inside of you, letting out a long moan. you cum again too, tears streaking your face. he kisses you again. foreheads to each other, all you can hear is each others breathing. smiling at each other, until you hear something coming from the phone on the floor:

“WHAT THE FUCK”.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

stealing stuff from the brothers' closets

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: none

-----

Lucifer

imagine opening his gigantic closet and all there is are 3 shirts, 2 pairs of pants, 3 blazers or whatever, a whole box full of gloves, another whole box full of socks, 2 pairs of shoes and one scarf (the cheapest item is 200 grimm too)

anyways he allows you to steal some of his stuff as long as you do not let his brothers see you with it at any cost

lucifer thinks you look adorable wrapped up in his 800 grimm scarf but he'd never tell you (you can tell)

Mammon

mammon doesn't mind you stealing stuff from him, he even tries to get you to take his stuff

he's like 'look mc I got this cool hat' and then places it on your head and when you try to give it back he refuses to accept it

mammon does have a good wide range of clothes and accessories you can steal unlike lucifer

and everything he owns is either from a devildom designer brand or the devildom version of walmart

Leviathan

he almost passes away

not that he minds you wearing his stuff (he actually thinks it's cute, even if it's his limited edition expensive tsl stuff) but he was not ready for the jumpscare of actually seeing you with his things

eventually he gets used to it though and his closet becomes free rein for you and only you

sometimes when he's shopping for new clothes on akuzon he's debating on whether or not to buy the same shirt for you too

Satan

first of all opening his closet is a whole risk because nobody can guarantee you won't expose yourself to the worst sweaters known to man

also like his room, his closet is a mess too

and sometimes when you steal something from him, satan can't even tell you got it from his closet because it's such a mess in there and he wears just the same 3 shirts anyways

but he doesn't mind you taking his stuff as long as you don't damage anything (he won't get mad at you if you do though)

Asmodeus

you are free to steal anything from him, and he is free to steal anything from you

asmo loves it when he sees you wearing something of his

but do not damage anything or it will upset him (asmo can be scary when he's mad but he forgives you after 4 seconds so don't worry)

at some point he gets a whole shelf for his closet and he uses it to store clothes he bought for you, so you can find them next time you burrow something

it's literally labeled 'the mc shelf'

Beelzebub

the least ancient thing in his closet was bought 5 years ago

but if you want to steal his stuff, he'd definitely let you, he thinks it makes you two get closer to each other

beel would even let you keep anything you'd pick if you really love it

sometimes he even just leaves the item in your room

some stuff in his closet is originally owned by belphie because these twins share everything

Belphegor

half of his stuff consists of soft gowns and other sleep-related stuff, and he wears almost 0 of them, they're just sitting there in his closet

and he absolutely loves it when you steal his fluffy things because it looks cute and he can cuddle up to you and sleep

belphie lets you keep anything he never or rarely wore

if you frequently check his closet out, belphie will sometimes burrow something from beel and put it on one of his shelves to see if you notice (belphie also buys clothes once per blue moon)

[cutiecorner]

Caregiver Alfred during fall ♡

Looooves to decorate for Halloween. Any holiday really, but the fall and winter ones are his favorite. Will celebrate any holiday you celebrate with gusto!

Will let you play while he does yard work, or you can help, if you want. You may get to use the leaf blower. With supervision. If you're good

Always makes sure to have a cozy drink at the ready after you play outside.

Similarly, he always has a thermos with tea for outdoor outings. He has a separate one for you with your drink of choice (tea, cocoa, cider, whatever)

Makes sure you're warm 100% of the time. Inside? Blankets. Outside? Coat and mittens. All the time? Sweaters.

If you do get cold, he'll give you his coat, his scarf, his hat, anything. With only a little bit of nagging that he told you so. If you prefer to burrow into his coat while he's wearing it, he's not opposed.

He knits, but he's bad at it. He's much better at sewing. He still tries to make hats, scarves, and mittens, but he's a little embaressed when you wear them. Seeing you smile makes it worth it though :•)

Kind of an Instagram mom but for his own scrap books. Wants to take his little ones to all the fall spots, pumpkin patches, fairs, football games, all of it. Takes lots of pictures and makes pretty pages for them.

Insists he doesn't like American football but he's invested. He doesn't yell at the TV because it makes little ones anxious when he raises his voice, but he will swear in a very British way that makes you giggle.

Buys so much candy for October. Makes a lot of special spooky treats, too.

Goes very hard on making costumes. Nary a store bought costume in the house. He will make anything you ask in exquisite detail, and take so many pictures

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hey girl can you make more Draco and his kid headcanon please like maybe daily life

I need it

A/n: of course 🥰, I hope these are good!

• General •

•Draco never expected to be wrapped around someone’s little finger—and yet from the moment Scorpius grabbed his pinky as a newborn, Draco was doomed. He’s completely and utterly smitten with his son.

•He tries to be the stern, composed pure-blood father he was raised to be, but it unravels the moment his son does anything remotely cute.

“Scorpius, what did I say about—” “Papa, I made a potion! It smells like honey and socks!” “…Brilliant. Show me.”

•Your Hufflepuff warmth balances out Draco’s sharp edges. You’re the one who insists Scorpius plays outside, helps with chores, and writes thank-you letters. Draco pretends to grumble but secretly loves it.

•Scorpius is the most charming little Slytherpuff ever: clever, ambitious, and sweet as sugar. He wears his heart on his sleeve and will proudly declare:

“I’m like Daddy and Mummy—ambitious and cuddly!”

•Draco is incredibly protective. When Scorpius got his Hogwarts letter, Draco stared at it for an hour, reminiscing and trying not to cry. He insisted on personally inspecting the Hogwarts Express carriage.

•When Scorpius was sorted into Slytherin, Draco was proud—but when he added “but I’m a Puff like Mummy too!”, Draco’s heart shattered and reassembled in the most fragile way. He now refers to Scorpius as “my little House blend.”

•Draco and Scorpius have tea time every Saturday, a tradition you started. Scorpius brings you both hand-drawn place cards (Draco keeps every single one in a drawer at the Manor).

•If Scorpius so much as sniffles, Draco’s already halfway to brewing six potions, sending owls to St. Mungo’s, and interrogating every child in a 3-mile radius.

•He reads Scorpius bedtime stories, and if you peek into the nursery, you’ll often find your son asleep on his chest while Draco is still murmuring softly from an old fairytale book.

•Draco is surprisingly soft in domestic life. He ties your apron when you bake. He brushes Scorpius’s hair in the mornings. He secretly knits (badly), and once made a very lumpy Slytherin-Hufflepuff scarf for Scorpius.

•When Scorpius gets scared at night, he comes running into your room and Draco always lifts the covers for him without a word. He’ll pretend to still be asleep while cuddling both of you protectively.

•Whenever Scorpius says, “I want to be like you, Daddy,” Draco nearly cries on the spot. He holds him tighter and whispers, “No. You’ll be better. Because you’ve got your mother’s heart.”

•Parent-teacher meetings are hilarious. Draco shows up in full black robes, arms crossed, scowling at any professor who implies Scorpius isn’t perfect. You have to nudge him constantly under the table.

•Draco LOVES your Hufflepuff traits, even if he pretends to act above it. He’s absolutely enchanted by how kind, loving, and nurturing you are. The fact that Scorpius inherited your big heart? He thinks it’s the best thing in the world.

•When Scorpius gets his first crush, Draco is not ready. He starts subtly investigating this child’s entire family line until you drag him aside and remind him that Scorpius is eleven.

•Sometimes, late at night, Draco watches the two of you sleeping—Scorpius cuddled into your chest—and whispers, “Merlin, how did I get this lucky?”

Daily Life with Draco, You, and Pre-Hogwarts Scorpius

•Mornings in the Malfoy household are soft and slow. You’re always up first, padding through the manor in fuzzy socks to start breakfast. Draco wanders in shortly after, hair a mess, robe half-tied, muttering, “How is it morning already?”

•Scorpius is the morning sunshine—he runs down the halls with bedhead, dragging a stuffed dragon by the tail, yelling, “Mum! Dad! I had a dream we were Hippogriffs!” He launches into Draco’s lap and burrows in like a baby Niffler.

Draco is absolutely useless until he has tea. You hand him his cup without fail, kissing his cheek. He hums contentedly and watches you bustle around the kitchen, quietly enchanted that he somehow married a literal ray of Hufflepuff sunshine.

Scorpius helps with breakfast. He insists on stirring pancake batter and arranging fruit into smiley faces. He always ends up with flour on his nose. Draco acts like it’s a mess—but he never stops smiling.

•Daily walks through the Malfoy gardens are a must. Scorpius chases butterflies, tells flowers “good morning,” and asks roughly 700 questions a minute. Draco answers every one with dry sarcasm.

“Why do Kneazles have whiskers, Daddy?” “To sense lies. Which means they’d never survive in the Ministry.”

•You and Scorpius often bake in the afternoons while Draco reads nearby, pretending not to be watching. He always shows up the moment the first tray comes out of the oven, claiming he’s “testing for poison.”

•Scorpius adores storytime. He likes sitting between you and Draco, one head on each of your shoulders, as you both take turns reading. When he was younger, he always asked, “Read it like a villain, Daddy!” and Draco would get very into it.

•Draco insists Scorpius learns basic wandless magical theory and etiquette early, but it always turns into a game.

“You’re dueling a Death Eater, not asking him to tea, Scorpius—stand your ground. No, wand up—not twirling it!”

•You both take Scorpius to Diagon Alley once a week for “fun outings.” He’s known by name at the ice cream parlor, the pet shop, and Flourish & Blotts. Draco acts put out when Scorpius begs for a new book or creature… then buys three of each.

•Bedtime is sacred. You tuck Scorpius in with a gentle kiss to his forehead, and Draco always lingers behind. He’ll smooth Scorpius’s hair and whisper, “You did good today, little serpent. Dream of stars.”

•Scorpius has a habit of walking into your bedroom at 2 a.m. and curling into Draco’s side. Draco always lets him, wordlessly shifting to hold both of you. No matter how hard he tries to act aloof, his arms always wrap tight.

•On rainy days, the three of you build blanket forts. Draco pretends it’s “utterly ridiculous” until he’s inside with a book, pretending not to be enjoying himself. You catch him and Scorpius dozing off together inside, both clutching tiny pillows.

•Draco keeps a secret scrapbook with pictures and little clippings from Scorpius’s life: his first smile, his first accidental magic burst, his first wobbly handwriting. He’s too proud to admit it—but he looks through it constantly.

•Whenever Scorpius does something especially kind or thoughtful, Draco leans over and whispers, “That’s your mother in you, sweetheart. Thank Merlin.”

•Scorpius once tried to “propose” to you because “Daddy said Mummy is the kindest, bravest, and prettiest witch in the world.” Draco turned beet red. You nearly cried. Scorpius gave you a dandelion ring.

The manor is full of laughter now—where once it echoed with silence and formality, it now feels like a home. One filled with joy, baked goods, muddy shoes, bedtime kisses, soft sighs, and a love Draco never believed he deserved—but is endlessly grateful for.

[honeydippedfiction]

What are Angel and baby Z’s plan for Joe for Father’s Day?

Father’s Day – Cincinnati, June 2025 Joe Burrow’s First as a Dad

🌤️ Morning — Soft Start

The soft morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting long, golden streaks across the bedroom floor. The warmth of it brushed Joe’s cheek, coaxing him gently out of sleep. At first, he resisted, eyes still closed, his body heavy with the kind of deep rest that only came after weeks of OTAs, sleepless baby nights, and long rehab hours. But the sound of something small—delicate coos paired with a faint thumping against wood—pulled him further toward consciousness.

His brows knit slightly. A beat passed.

Then came a high-pitched squeal, followed by the unmistakable flutter of paper.

Joe’s eyes blinked open.

And the first thing he saw—blinking right back at him—was a pair of wide, honey-brown eyes. A gurgle of delight bubbled from Zariyah’s mouth as she sat perched right on his chest, chubby legs planted on either side of his sternum like she was a queen on her throne. Her curls were a wild halo from sleep, her cheeks rosy and soft, and her tiny fists were clutching a lopsided, glitter-smudged piece of construction paper.

He squinted to focus, then laughed softly when he read her onesie: “MY DADDY IS QB1.”

His heart didn’t just flip—it swan-dived.

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep. He shifted just enough to cup the back of her head as she shrieked again, card flapping like a victory flag in her fist.

Then—

“Good morning, Daddy.”

Joe’s head turned to the sound of the voice that still made him weak in the knees, even all these years later.

Angel stood in the doorway, leaning her hip against the frame like she had all the time in the world. She was barefoot, curls tied up in a soft silk scarf, his orange No. 9 Bengals jersey hanging off her in the most devastating way—cut short so that her bare thighs were all on display. In her hands, a breakfast tray balanced neatly: cinnamon rolls glistening with icing, fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy turkey bacon, a fresh-pressed green juice, and his favorite coffee steaming from a black mug that read: “GIRL DAD.”

Joe blinked at her, blinking again just to make sure he hadn’t died and gone to heaven.

“What’s all this?” he asked, propping himself up carefully on one elbow while keeping his arm securely around Zariyah’s waist. His voice cracked, rough and scratchy, and maybe a little stunned.

Angel smiled at the two of them—the love of her life holding the little girl who had redefined everything they’d ever dreamed. “Your very first Father’s Day,” she said softly, walking toward the bed with careful steps. “The whole team’s been planning it for weeks.”

Joe chuckled as Zariyah wiggled, practically bouncing on his chest. “Is that right?”

Zariyah let out a long, squeaky babble and waved the card again, like she was mid-press conference. Her legs kicked with excitement, and one of her tiny fists caught Joe’s chin.

Angel laughed as she carefully set the tray on the nightstand. “She’s the captain today,” she said, watching as Zariyah drooled onto her card and then shrieked again at her own sound. “I just follow orders.”

Joe leaned back against the headboard, adjusting the pillow behind him as he kept his eyes locked on both of his girls. “So let me guess,” he said, smirking, “she woke up early, wrote this card, made breakfast, and picked out the outfit herself?”

Angel climbed onto the bed and perched next to him, one leg folded beneath her. “Of course. She even threatened to fire me if I didn’t make the icing from scratch.”

Joe gave her a crooked grin. “Tough boss.”

“She’s relentless.” Angel leaned in and kissed his cheek, then brushed her lips across his jaw and lingered just slightly at the corner of his mouth. “But she thinks you’re worth it.”

Zariyah chose that moment to babble even louder, grabbing a fistful of Joe’s hair and tugging with toddler-strength.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, wincing slightly as he freed himself from her grip. “Apparently she wants me to open this masterpiece.”

Angel leaned over to help, gently loosening Zariyah’s grip on the wrinkled card. Inside were two handprints in bright purple paint—one of them clearly Zariyah’s, the other smaller, smudged, and unmistakably Angel’s attempt at mimicking her daughter’s.

Underneath, in big block letters:

WE LOVE YOU DADDY.

Love, Your Girls.

Joe stared at the page for a long moment, quiet and still.

Then he looked up at Angel.

She was watching him with a soft expression, eyes warm and filled with the kind of affection that didn’t need to be spoken out loud.

Joe’s voice came out low, almost reverent. “You’re gonna make me cry before I even have my coffee.”

Angel’s smile deepened, and she pressed her hand over his heart. “Good. You deserve every second of this.”

Joe bent down to kiss the top of Zariyah’s head. “I don’t know what I did to get you two,” he whispered, voice cracking. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it.”

Angel’s thumb brushed along his jaw. “You already have.”

And for a few minutes, the three of them just stayed there—Zariyah babbling between them, Joe cradling her in one arm and holding Angel’s hand with the other, the soft golden light pouring in through the windows like the universe itself was pausing to bear witness.

Father’s Day had only just begun.

And already, it felt like magic.

🎁 Midday — Gifts & Goofiness

By the time the breakfast tray was cleared and Zariyah had gone down for her late-morning nap, the house was quiet again—still bathed in sunlight, but now filled with the faint scent of cinnamon and the low hum of music coming from Angel’s phone speaker on the dresser. The three of them had spent the last hour snuggled in bed, sharing bites of sticky rolls and laughing over Joe’s failed attempts to sneak tiny pieces to Zariyah.

She’d smacked the spoon away twice, then squealed with delight when Joe fumbled a piece of icing onto his own thigh.

“She’s too young, Joey,” Angel had scolded gently, trying not to laugh as she wiped Zariyah’s sticky fingers. “She only has two teeth.”

“Exactly,” he said with a shrug, “she needs the energy.”

Now, with Zariyah fast asleep in her crib and a moment of rare quiet between them, Angel reached into the woven basket she’d hidden in the corner of the room and pulled out a thick, leather-bound book wrapped in soft tissue paper.

Joe raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter on the edge of the bed. “What’s this?”

Angel handed it over carefully and sat beside him, folding her legs beneath her. “Just something I’ve been working on. It’s not perfect, but… I think it’s you.”

Joe peeled back the tissue and blinked at the rich brown cover—his name embossed in gold foil across the bottom corner. As he opened it, the pages made a soft creak. On the inside cover, a handwritten message in Angel’s neat script read:

To the man who became the father of my child with more grace, strength, and tenderness than I could have ever dreamed.

Happy Father’s Day.

Love,

Your girls.

Joe’s breath caught.

Then he turned the first page.

A sonogram was taped to the center, black and white and grainy, surrounded by soft brush strokes of paint Angel had clearly done by hand. Above it were the words:

And then there were three.

Joe stared at the tiny shape curled into the blurry image, barely the size of a peanut, and his throat tightened.

“Damn,” he murmured.

Angel leaned her chin on his shoulder, voice quiet and even. “I remember the look on your face when they told us it was real. Like someone had just told you you’d won the Super Bowl, but the stakes were even bigger.”

Joe flipped the page.

The next photo was of him in sweatpants and glasses, sitting on the old couch in his parent's basement, reading Goodnight Moon to Angel’s belly. His hand was resting on her stomach, the curve of it just visible beneath her shirt, and a soft smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

He hadn’t even known she’d taken that picture.

“I took it because you didn’t even hesitate,” Angel said softly. “You were already hers, before you’d even met her.”

Joe reached up and rubbed his jaw, visibly moved, then turned the next page—and the one after.

There were photos from the hospital: him cradling Zariyah for the first time, stunned and overwhelmed and completely undone. Her tiny fingers wrapped tight around his pinky. Angel asleep in the hospital bed, exhausted but smiling, with Joe leaning over her shoulder holding their daughter like she was made of glass.

He kept flipping, slower now.

Zariyah asleep on his chest while he watched film on his iPad, headphones in, the game forgotten. Angel breastfeeding in the nursery, her eyes half-closed while Joe stood behind her in dress pants, shirt unbuttoned, tying his tie for a Zoom interview. A shot of them both passed out on the living room floor, surrounded by blankets and bottles, Zariyah curled in the space between their bodies like a tiny punctuation mark in the story of their lives.

One photo caught him off guard: him on the floor, knees bent, coaxing Zariyah to roll over. She looked furious—red in the face, mid-shout, but he was smiling, eyes full of pride even as her fists pounded the mat.

“I forgot you took this one,” Joe said quietly, brushing his fingers across the edge of the page.

Angel grinned. “That was the day she finally got it. But you were so patient with her. You always are.”

Joe shut the book gently, staring down at the cover like it might shift and change again if he blinked. His voice came out rough. “I don’t even have words for this.”

“You don’t need words,” Angel murmured, sliding her hand into his. “You show up for her every day. That says more than anything.”

She pressed a kiss to his jaw, lingering there for a second before reaching behind her and grabbing a smaller box, wrapped in matte black paper with a silver bow. “And because your daughter insisted on giving you something herself…”

Joe took the box, untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled against soft velvet, was a brushed metal keychain shaped like a football. One side had a tiny, engraved handprint—the size of a quarter—and on the other, etched in delicate script:

Zariyah Jasmine — Est. 2024

Joe ran a thumb over the handprint, and for a second, he just stared at it in silence.

“She’s only seven months old and already giving me better gifts than anyone I know,” he muttered, eyes wet. “How is that possible?”

Angel smiled, biting her bottom lip. “Wait till you see her art projects in a few years.”

Joe set the keychain gently on the bed beside the photo book, then reached for Angel’s hand. “I don’t know how you keep outdoing yourself.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” She gave his fingers a squeeze. “One more.”

She disappeared into the hallway for a moment, returning with a small, clear box tucked under her arm. Inside was a mini Bengals helmet—orange, black-striped, and pristine except for one detail. Across the back, where the nameplate would usually sit, the name BURROW was scrawled in uneven, crooked letters, almost comically off-center.

Joe snorted as he held it up. “Did she write this?”

“She tried,” Angel said proudly. “I helped with the Sharpie part, but the scribbles were all her.”

He turned it over in his hands like it was made of glass. “You’re kidding me. This is… incredible.”

Angel watched him set it gently on the nightstand, beside his real helmet from last season. It looked small next to the professional gear, but Joe treated it like it belonged in Canton.

“This is better than any trophy I’ve ever had,” he said quietly.

Angel leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice full of quiet certainty. “That’s because this one calls you ‘Dada.’”

Joe tilted his head back and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

Angel smiled and kissed his shoulder. “Then I’m doing this right.”

☀️ Afternoon — Backyard Picnic 

By midday, the Cincinnati sun had climbed high into the pale blue sky, casting golden light over the Burrow home. Joe had been mid-diaper change when Angel slipped outside, and when he stepped into the backyard twenty minutes later—Zariyah tucked against his side and a burp cloth slung over one shoulder—he stopped in his tracks.

The space had been completely transformed.

Their usual patio setup had vanished, replaced by a soft picnic blanket under a wide, cream-colored canopy tent that fluttered slightly in the breeze. A small, quiet fan oscillated near the center, keeping the air cool enough to be comfortable. String lights were already draped above in a zigzag pattern across the tent poles, though they wouldn’t be needed for a few more hours. A low wicker table sat nearby, laid out with neatly packed to-go boxes, plates, and chilled drinks, and off to the side—

Joe blinked.

“Is that… a projector?” he asked aloud.

Angel looked up from her spot beside a mini playpen and smiled.

“You’re early,” she teased, rising to her feet and brushing invisible dust from her thighs. She was barefoot in the grass, wearing a simple sundress that hugged her curves, her curls pinned up in a loose twist. “I was hoping to have everything perfect before you came out, but you’re always ahead of schedule.”

Joe stepped forward slowly, surveying the scene like it might disappear if he moved too fast. Zariyah began to squirm in his arms, wiggling at the sight of the colorful toys and her mother’s voice.

“What is all this?” he asked, still stunned.

Angel took Zariyah from him with a practiced ease, settling her into the shaded play area lined with plush, breathable cushions. The baby immediately grabbed a soft Bengals football teether and began gnawing on it with pure determination.

“Well,” Angel began, slipping her hand into Joe’s and tugging him toward the blanket, “I knew you’d try to say you didn’t want anything big. That you’d just be happy with a chill day at home. So I did both. A chill day… but thoughtfully executed.”

Joe raised an eyebrow as he sat beside her, reaching for one of the chilled lemonades waiting on the table. “Thoughtfully executed?”

She smirked. “I may have called in a few favors.”

Just then, a familiar smell wafted from a tray nearby—smoky, tangy, and unmistakably southern.

Joe’s head snapped toward it. “Wait—is that…”

“Yep.” Angel leaned back on her palms, her smile triumphant. “Ribs. From your favorite barbecue spot. And before you ask—yes, I got the spicy sauce, and yes, the mac and cheese is the baked kind you like.”

Joe stared at her for a beat, then leaned over and kissed her square on the mouth. “You’re unreal.”

“Tell Zariyah. She helped plan the menu.” Angel grinned, glancing toward their daughter, who was now babbling to herself in the corner while trying to stuff an entire plush tiger tail into her mouth.

They ate on the blanket under the shade, laughing between bites and wiping sauce from each other’s mouths like a pair of teenagers still deep in the honeymoon phase. Joe was messier than usual, tugging at napkins with one hand while juggling a full plate in the other, and Angel kept swatting at his arm whenever he tried to feed her oversized portions of rib meat.

“You are not about to make me smell like smoked pork for the rest of the day,” she warned, dodging a forkful of cornbread.

Joe wiggled his brows. “You liked how I smelled last night.”

Angel gave him a slow, warning look. “There is a literal baby ten feet away, Joseph.”

He winked. “She doesn’t know English yet.”

When the food was cleared and Zariyah had worn herself out with teething and rolling, Joe and Angel lay side-by-side on the blanket. She curled into his side, head on his chest, while he rested a hand over her hip. The soft hum of the fan mixed with the distant chirp of birds, a rare stillness settling over their little bubble.

Then Angel sat up slightly, reaching toward the remote control beside her.

Joe glanced sideways. “What are you doing?”

She held the remote behind her back, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips. “You’re gonna make fun of me.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“Just…” She scooted a little closer, her voice dipping with playfulness. “Trust me. And don’t judge me too harshly.”

Joe leaned up on one elbow as the projector flickered to life, the side of their white-painted garage suddenly becoming a movie screen.

Soft instrumental music started playing.

Then—

There he was.

Footage of Joe from the past season: throwing in slow motion, walking the sidelines with his helmet tucked under his arm, dapping up teammates after hard-fought wins. Press conferences, mic’d-up moments, sideline hugs, behind-the-scenes training clips. But woven between them were quieter things, things only someone who knew him would think to include:

Joe holding Zariyah in his locker after a game, smiling down at her like she was the only person in the room.

Him brushing a curl from Angel’s cheek during a holiday photo shoot.

Carrying groceries in with one arm and their daughter in the other.

Late-night baby monitor check-ins caught on home security footage, where Joe sleepily rubbed his face and peeked into the nursery.

Overlaid were snippets of commentary—analysts calling him a leader, fans chanting his name, teammates praising his resilience.

Zariyah, who had been fussing softly in her playpen, suddenly perked up at the sound of his voice from one of the clips. She squealed, slapped the side of the mat, and clapped her hands, as if recognizing her dad on the screen.

Joe stared, blinking slowly.

“Did you… make this?” he asked, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

Angel didn’t look at him right away. She just watched the screen, her profile soft in the afternoon light. “It’s her first Father’s Day, too,” she murmured. “I wanted her to see who her daddy is. Not just the quarterback. The man.”

Joe was silent for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly, one hand rising to drag across his jaw.

“You’re gonna make me cry on the grass,” he said hoarsely.

Angel turned then, her smile quiet and full of heat and love. She laid her head back on his chest and wrapped an arm around his waist. “That was the goal.”

He kissed the top of her head, voice thick. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

She looked up at him, eyes shining. “You became hers. And mine.”

And beneath the light of the summer sun, with his daughter giggling beside them and his wife nestled against his heart, Joe Burrow realized—he already had everything he’d ever need.

🌌 Evening — Just the Two of Them

The sun had long since dipped below the skyline, leaving behind a lavender haze that faded slowly into dusk. The house had grown quiet again, blanketed in that soft hush that only came after a long, joy-filled day. Zariyah had gone down for the night without much protest—her belly full, her body tired from crawling and cooing and soaking up every ounce of attention she’d received.

Now she lay in her crib, wrapped snug in her favorite muslin sleep sack, her pacifier lopsided in her mouth, a tiny hand curled beneath her chin. The baby monitor on the nightstand pulsed with quiet static, the screen glowing with a peaceful image of her rising and falling in sleep.

Joe double-checked it like he always did, then stepped into the hallway. The sound of water running lured him toward the master bathroom.

The lights were off—but the flicker of candlelight danced across the walls in soft, golden waves, throwing shadows that rippled over tile and glass. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, heady and warm. Steam curled up from the surface of the tub, the water perfectly drawn with Epsom salts already dissolved, creating a soft, mineral sheen that beckoned him forward.

And then he saw her.

Angel stood by the vanity, tying the sash of her silk robe with slow, practiced ease. Her hair was down, curls falling softly around her shoulders. She’d lit candles along the edge of the tub and vanity, and the soft instrumental playlist she always used for wind-down hours hummed from the Bluetooth speaker in the corner.

She turned when she heard him, lips curling into a knowing smile. “There he is.”

Joe leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest, still shirtless from earlier. “You’re serious about this pampering thing.”

Angel tilted her head, letting her gaze trail down the length of his torso like she was mentally undressing him. “Very serious. You’ve been everything to her, Joe. To me. Now it’s your turn to rest.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this where I get a massage or a therapy session?”

“Both,” she said, taking a step closer. “Now strip, Burrow. Time to shut your brain off.”

Joe chuckled low in his throat but obeyed, tugging his sweatpants down and stepping out of them, leaving only a faint trail of warmth in his wake. She watched him without shame, without rush, just appreciation and that quiet, aching affection that made his chest feel too full.

He stepped into the tub slowly, muscles visibly relaxing as the heat wrapped around him like a second skin. His head dropped back with a sigh the second he was submerged.

“Jesus,” he muttered, eyes fluttering closed.

Angel lowered herself onto the edge of the tub beside him, her bare knee brushing his arm through the silk. She dipped her hands into the water, then slid them along his shoulders, thumbs pressing into the tension at the base of his neck.

“You always carry everything here,” she murmured, voice soft and reverent.

Joe let out a sound that was half-growl, half-moan. “Probably because I’ve been carrying a wiggly thirty-pound linebacker on my chest all week.”

Angel laughed under her breath but kept massaging, working her fingers in slow, deliberate circles. “You’ve given that little girl everything. Every ounce of your patience. Your time. Your heart.”

“She deserves it,” he said, eyes still closed. “You both do.”

Angel leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is yet. But I do.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head slightly, reaching up to catch her hand in his. He brought it to his lips and pressed a long, tender kiss to her palm. “I’d do it all again. Every long night. Every diaper blowout. Every 4 a.m. cry. Just to be hers. And yours.”

Angel didn’t say anything at first—just held his gaze, her fingers curling around his, thumb stroking over the back of his hand.

Then she stood slowly, letting the robe slip from her shoulders.

The silk dropped to the floor with a whisper.

Joe’s breath caught.

She stepped into the tub with him, straddling his lap with slow grace, her knees sinking into the warm water on either side of his hips. Her skin glowed in the candlelight, soft and gold and impossibly perfect. She ran her hands over his chest, then leaned in until their foreheads touched.

“I love you,” she whispered, her breath brushing against his lips.

Joe didn’t answer with words—just kissed her. Long and slow and deep, like it was the only language he knew.

The love they made that night wasn’t urgent or frenzied. It wasn’t about release—it was about returning. About anchoring themselves in one another after the constant movement of parenthood. It was slow. A reverent exploration of what it meant to be partners, lovers, and now, parents. Every brush of skin and breath, every whispered word, every soft moan was layered with meaning.

When they finally made it to bed—skin still damp, limbs tangled beneath the sheets—they collapsed together, bodies heavy with satisfaction and love.

Joe pulled Angel close, her back pressed to his chest, his arm draped over her waist.

The baby monitor glowed softly on the nightstand. Zariyah hadn’t moved.

Joe pressed a kiss to Angel’s shoulder, and his voice was low, hoarse with emotion and weariness. “This was the best day of my life.”

Angel smiled, sleep already tugging at the corners of her mind. She reached for his hand and laced their fingers together across her belly. “Just wait,” she whispered. “Wait till Zariyah starts drawing you cards that actually look like something.”

Joe laughed softly against her skin. “That’s not possible. Today was already perfect.”

And in the quiet that followed, with her body warm against his and their daughter safe and dreaming just a room away, Joe finally let himself drift—knowing that love had never felt more complete.

💬 Later That Night — Instagram

The house was wrapped in stillness, save for the gentle hum of the baby monitor and the occasional creak of old wood settling into night. The candles from their bath had burned down to soft embers, the sheets smelled like lavender and skin, and the only light in the room came from the faint glow of Angel’s phone screen as she sat propped against the headboard.

Joe was asleep beside her—completely gone. One arm curled beneath his head, the other still thrown lazily over her waist like even in dreams, he refused to let her go. His curls were a mess, cheeks sun-warmed and lips slightly parted. The corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest ghost of a smile.

Angel looked down at him, her heart aching in that quiet, full kind of way. She let her thumb rest lightly against the curve of his wrist for a moment, then turned her attention back to her phone.

She’d been working on the reel for days—sneaking in edits during naps, scrolling for the right music, stitching together the footage she’d gathered since morning. It was one of her favorite things to do now—capture the small magic of their lives so they could hold it forever.

The final cut was short but seamless. Tender. Honest.

It began with a clip from that morning: Joe asleep on the couch, Zariyah curled up on his chest like a baby koala, one of his large hands resting protectively on her tiny back. The moment was unposed, unfiltered—the kind of quiet love that didn’t ask to be seen.

Then came the photo book: a slow pan over the sonogram, the grainy footage of Joe reading Goodnight Moon to Angel’s belly, and the hospital photo that still made her tear up every time—the one where Joe looked like the entire world had stopped turning the second he held his daughter for the first time.

Next was him holding the tiny Bengals helmet that read “BURROW” in toddler-scrawl, his eyes shining like someone had handed him the Heisman all over again.

Angel had timed the music perfectly—soft piano keys that built into gentle strings, underscoring Zariyah’s chubby hands reaching toward the projector screen, squealing at the sound of her father’s voice echoing across the backyard. In the background, his real voice could be heard murmuring, “You’re gonna make me cry on the grass.”

The reel ended on a clip Angel had almost cut—because it felt too intimate, too sacred—but in the end, she kept it.

The three of them on the blanket.

Zariyah nestled between them, her feet kicking lazily as the breeze played with her curls. Angel lay beside Joe, her head on his chest, while he stared down at them both like he still couldn’t believe any of it was real. Angel’s eyes lifted to meet his, and just before the screen faded to black, she smiled at him with a kind of reverence usually reserved for prayer.

She watched the final cut once more, then tapped Post.

She captioned it carefully, rewriting it three times before landing on what her heart needed to say:

Watching you be Zariyah’s father is the greatest privilege of my life.

Happy Father’s Day to the man who leads with heart, protects with quiet strength, and gives our daughter the kind of love little girls dream of.

You make our world safe, soft, and full of joy.

We love you endlessly, Joseph Lee Burrow. 🧡👶🏽🐯 #GirlDad #FathersDay #QB1and1Half

Within minutes, the notifications rolled in.

Robin Burrow commented first:

He learned from the best. I’m so proud of the father—and man—he’s become. Love you three so much! 💕

Ja’Marr Chase:

Damn near teared up, not gon lie. Z got the GOAT for a dad. Happy Father’s Day, bro 🫶🏾

Jess (Sam Hubbard’s wife):

This is literally perfect 🥹 your family is so beautiful

Tee Higgins:

Zariyah the real MVP. That mini helmet got me 😂

Monica (Angel’s best friend):

Angel, you SNAPPED on this edit. He’s lucky to have y’all. And that baby’s curls?? STOP.

Kelsey & Rae (group chat besties):

#1 Girl Dad in the league

She really got his whole face. Y’all are unfairly cute.

Dozens of fans and followers flooded the comments too, sharing heart emojis, gifs, and messages like:

“This is what love looks like.”

“She’s going to grow up so loved. You can just feel it.”

“Imagine being Zariyah Burrow. Elite genetics. Elite family.”

“That baby’s got a mama who writes like a poet and a daddy who plays like a warrior. Iconic.”

Angel smiled and locked her phone, sliding it onto the nightstand.

She curled back into Joe’s side, her hand brushing across his bare chest, his heartbeat steady and strong beneath her fingertips.

He stirred just slightly, mumbling, “What time is it?”

“Late,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Don’t worry. I handled everything.”

Joe’s voice was thick with sleep, but his arm tightened around her anyway. “Best Father’s Day ever,” he mumbled.

Angel smiled into his skin. “Get used to it, Burrow. You’ve got a lifetime of them coming.”

And in the quiet dark, with their daughter dreaming down the hall and the rest of the world unaware of the perfect little kingdom they’d built, Angel let herself drift off beside the man who’d given her everything.

[bluerazberrysoda]

really odd and random assorted riordanverse hcs

leo genuinely called hot girls 'the huzz' for a long while before piper told him to stop

apollo was actually the one who started the queen never cry meme

grover introduced percy to kdrama and they watch together now (they both cry)

nico listens to vocaloid and hes really cagey and ashamed about it. his favorite song is romeo and cinderella

grover won gold for a rock climbing competition in rural ny. he did not train at all

annabeth LOVES ace attourney. she sneaks her ds into camp to play it

rachel will often pull her friends and dress them up in different styles to experiment with tailoring and stuff. percy got teased for a while for walking around in a full scene fit

piper practiced pagan witchcraft for a while before she was put into wilderness school

hazel can perfectly hit a bullseye with a musket. she does not know how, because she has never held a gun prior to discovering this

frank will turn into a fennec fox and burrow himself into the ground when he gets really stressed

alex is really into jfashion and gyaru specifically. sometimes she gets magnus to let her do the makeup on him

when percy was in ahs he tricked a group of freshmen into thinking he was jesus reincarnate by walking on water

piper knows how to ride a jetski

reyna always has a pack of cigs and a lighter on her so she can brood and smoke on her lonesome

jason got an alpha wolf shirt from frank on christmas. they both think its tuff af

will has glasses. he only realized when he was testing a camper's vision and HE couldn't read the third line of letters

meg regularly watches the lorax

thalia gets a 'happy 15th birthday' card every year from annabeth. she is never amused

frank really casually plays dark souls and elden ring and wu kong and hes like unnaturally good

percy hates singing for a crowd but he loves performing. he has dreams of becoming a guitarist but hes never told anyone about it

magnus can dance like crazy. hes literally so embarrassed whenever anybody catches him but he moves like hypnotizingly

hazel loves wearing anything fur or feather. no boa or scarf is safe from her

[christopherisfoive]

Cold Burn (Chapter 3)

!idol reader x Seungmin ; enemies to lovers

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

Who starts a tour in the fall? Seriously. Who thought this was a good idea? It’s below zero, and I’m layered up to my neck like a human burrito.

I swear I’m a cold-blooded person. Is that a thing? Like, scientifically? Whatever.

Today was the beginning of my ongoing nightmare. Tour traveling started at 4:30 AM, which should honestly be illegal. We took two SUVs to the airport—one for us, one for Stray Kids. No forced small talk at an ungodly hour? Bless.

Fortunately, a certain someone (who shall not be named) ended up in their car instead of ours. Not complaining.

"God, is anyone else freezing?" Kat’s teeth chattered as she hugged herself, her cheeks already pink from the cold. She looked annoyingly adorable, and I hated her for it.

I smiled and snuggled up next to her, absorbing as much warmth as I could.

"You guys look like two penguins cuddling," Leah snickered, pulling her scarf up over her face.

The area of the airport where we waited was eerily quiet. No other passengers to weave through, no cameras flashing in our faces—just us, our managers, and security.

"Aren’t you glad we got here early?" Ari teased, pinching my cheek lightly. "Nobody to bug us. Especially you."

I huffed, grabbing her hand before she could do it again. "Thankful, yes. But something about this… it just feels like the calm before the storm."

Ari smiled, squeezing my hand. "No matter what, by the end of this, we’ll be different people. We’ll be experienced artists. Isn’t that exciting?"

I nodded absentmindedly, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin of her hand.

I thought about how lucky we were to have Ari.

I thought about it a lot, actually.

I glanced over my shoulder, eyes landing on the boys a few sections away. They were huddled together, wrapped in coats and buried in their own quiet conversations. Most of them had sleepy faces and grumpy pouts, a clear sign that 4:30 AM was too early for human existence—even for them.

And there, right in the center of their group, was Mira.

"Ladies, let's go. Boarding time."

Our managers started ushering us toward the attendants, guiding us to pull out our boarding passes and passports.

"I'm so sitting next to Y/N," Leah announced giddily, practically bouncing in place.

Kat raised a brow. "Yeah? Do you even have the seat next to her?"

Leah pursed her lips before latching onto my arm. "Yes…?" She obviously lied.

I laughed, letting her drag me down the ramp to the plane.

The plane was cold, the hum of the engines already lulling half the group into a dazed silence as we settled into our seats. Leah, as expected, had successfully talked her way into sitting next to me, immediately claiming the window seat before I could even react.

I rolled my eyes but let her have it, adjusting my seatbelt while she curled up against the side, her hoodie pulled up as she scrolled through her phone.

Across the aisle, Kat was flipping through a magazine, and Ari had already knocked out, her head leaned back against the headrest. Lucky.

I sighed, resting my head against the seat, and glanced over at the rows ahead. Stray Kids were scattered throughout the cabin, some with their hoods up, others already deep in their own worlds. Mira, of course, was near them, chatting quietly with Seungmin.

I clicked my tongue, looking away before I could focus on it too much.

"You should sleep," Leah mumbled, nudging my arm without looking up.

I huffed. "Easier said than done."

"Suit yourself. But don’t wake me up if you get bored," she warned before burrowing further into her seat.

I didn’t plan on it. Instead, I stared at the seat in front of me, my thoughts a tangled mess.

By the time we landed, my body was stiff and exhausted, a dull ache settling into my neck from sitting in one position for too long.

Stepping off the plane into the crisp autumn air, I pulled my jacket tighter around me, following the others toward the waiting company bus.

The bus wasn’t anything fancy—just a standard tour transport with rows of seats, overhead compartments, and tinted windows. Our luggage had already been loaded underneath, which meant the only thing left to do was figure out where to sit.

I barely had a moment to process my options before Leah grabbed my wrist. "Okay, where are we sitting?"

Before I could answer, a voice cut in.

"I’d sit fast if I were you. Looks like seats are going quick."

I turned my head just in time to see Seungmin slipping into a row near the middle of the bus, tossing his bag onto the seat next to him.

Of course.

I exhaled through my nose and chose silence, leading Leah to an open row near the back. As soon as I slid into my seat, I popped in my earbuds, staring out the window.

I could hear the others talking, voices blending together in casual chatter.

"This bus is nicer than I expected," Han mused, stretching his legs out. "I was prepared for the worst."

"What were you expecting? Wooden benches?" Kat teased.

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh. "Can we just take a second to appreciate that we’re finally on tour? I feel like we’ve been preparing for this forever."

"Yeah, until we’re all running on two hours of sleep and regretting everything," Changbin muttered, already slouching into his seat.

Laughter rippled through the group. I focused on the rhythm of the bus moving, keeping myself detached.

"Y/N, what about you?"

The mention of my name pulled me out of my own thoughts. I blinked, glancing toward the front where Chan had turned slightly in his seat, waiting for an answer.

"Huh?"

He smiled. "Excited for tour?"

I forced a small shrug. "I guess we’ll see how it goes."

It was the safest answer I could give.

Mira hummed from somewhere near the middle of the bus, her voice light. "You always have such a way with words."

I didn’t respond. I just turned my head back toward the window, watching as the city blurred past.

Some things were better left ignored.

The hotel was nice. Not over-the-top luxurious, but definitely better than expected. The lobby was sleek, the floors polished, and the soft cadence of instrumental music played over the speakers as we checked in.

We barely had time to take it in before our managers were already handing out room keys and running through the schedule.

"Drop your bags off, freshen up, and meet in the lobby in twenty minutes. Rehearsals start as soon as we get to the venue."

That was all we got before we were shuffled upstairs.

I barely had time to throw my stuff on the bed before we were back down, piling into the bus again—this time with less excitement and more exhaustion.

-

The venue was huge.

Stepping inside, I felt the familiar rush that always hit me before a big performance. Even empty, the sheer size of the stadium was intimidating. Rows upon rows of seats stretched up into the rafters, towering over the stage that was still being pieced together by crew members and staff.

"Alright, let’s get started!" One of the coordinators clapped his hands, calling for attention. "We’ll run through stage placements first, then we’ll move into individual group rehearsals."

I rolled out my shoulders, mentally preparing myself.

The first official tour day had begun.

The moment we stepped onto the stage, the energy shifted.

It wasn’t excitement—not yet. It was pure business. Crew members were adjusting lighting, staff running around with headsets, and groups were already being directed to their stage placements.

"Alright, everyone!" The stage coordinator’s voice boomed over the speakers. "We’re going to run through the transitions between performances first. This is a big stage, and we need to make sure no one’s running into each other like headless chickens."

A murmur of laughter rippled through the group, but we all knew this was going to be tedious.

I stretched my arms above my head, glancing around. Stray Kids were on one side of the stage, Stellar on the other, and Mira kind of placed in between.

Seungmin was, unsurprisingly, not looking in my direction.

"Let’s start with the finale lineup and work backward," the coordinator continued. "That way, you all know where you need to end up."

I moved to my assigned spot, adjusting my mic pack as I glanced at my members. Leah gave me a small, knowing smile, like she already sensed the tension in the air.

"Alright, let’s run it!"

The music kicked in, and just like that—rehearsal officially began.

The first run-through was already rough.

People were missing cues, stepping into the wrong places, and nearly colliding as we tried to work through the transitions. The stage was massive, but somehow, it still felt too crowded.

"Alright, reset!" The coordinator called, rubbing his temples. "Let’s take it from the second transition. And can you all try not to look like you’re lost?"

I exhaled slowly, rolling out my shoulders before moving back to my spot. I was trying to tune everything out and just focus—until I heard his voice.

"Try not to mess this one up, yeah?"

I didn’t even have to turn my head to know who was talking.

Seungmin.

He was a few feet away, adjusting his mic pack, looking entirely unbothered. His voice had been just low enough that only I could hear it, but the smirk on his face told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

I let the words hang in the air for a second, choosing silence over pettiness.

I had already wasted enough energy on him at the fitting.

So instead, I adjusted my earpiece, took my mark, and kept my eyes ahead.

Let him think he got to me.

I wasn’t giving him that satisfaction.

Or maybe....

"Yes, Mr. Two Left Feet."

I heard Han stifle a laugh next to me, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Seungmin’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he scoffed. "Funny. I’d say the same to you, but that’d be an insult to my actual left foot."

I rolled my eyes, fixing my earpiece as the music started again. Han was still grinning, clearly entertained.

"You know, I should start keeping a scoreboard," he muttered under his breath.

I ignored him.

Let Seungmin think he won this round.

I had bigger things to focus on.

The next run-through wasn’t much better.

People were still missing placements, timing was off, and the stage crew was already looking frustrated as we kept resetting.

I exhaled through my nose, pressing my fingers to my temples while waiting for the next cue. One more round of this and I was going to actually lose it.

Then, just as I was trying to pull myself together, a voice too sugary sweet cut through the tension beside me.

"Y/N, you okay?"

I turned my head slightly, catching Mira’s perfectly concerned expression.

Oh. Here we go.

"Fine," I muttered, adjusting my mic pack.

Mira hummed, stepping a little closer. "You just look… tense. I mean, I get it. It must be a lot of pressure—especially with all eyes on you."

I stilled for half a second before forcing a small smile. "I’m good. But thanks for the concern."

She beamed. "Of course! We’re all in this together, after all."

I didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered just briefly toward Seungmin before shifting back to me.

Oh, she was enjoying this.

Before I could say anything else, the coordinator clapped his hands. "Alright! One last run-through before we break for now. Let’s get it right this time!"

Mira patted my arm lightly, like we were the best of friends. "Let’s do our best, okay?"

And just like that, she turned away, walking back to her mark as if she hadn’t just subtly dug her nails in.

I clenched my jaw, rolling out my shoulders.

I see.

-

I barely made it off the stage before dropping onto one of the folding chairs near the edge of the stage, exhaling sharply as I stretched out my legs. My entire body was sore, my head was pounding, and my patience had officially run out.

I wasn’t even thinking about who was around me until a bottle of water was suddenly held out in front of my face.

I glanced up to see Felix, offering it with one of his usual soft smiles.

"You look like you need this."

I sighed, taking it without question. "Thanks. I think my soul left my body somewhere between the second and third run-through."

Felix chuckled, sitting down next to me. "Yeah, that was… a mess."

I took a long sip of water, letting the coolness ground me. "That’s an understatement."

Felix sighed, twisting the cap off his own bottle. "You alright?"

It was a simple question. Not loaded. Not prying. Just Felix being Felix.

I rested my arms on my knees, staring at the stage where the staff was still adjusting props and setting up for the next group.

"I’m fine." A pause. "Just going through the motions."

Felix didn’t call me out on the half-truth, but I knew he didn’t buy it either.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair, letting the comfortable silence settle between us.

"It’s always a little rough at first," he said after a moment. "But once the first show is out of the way, everything feels more natural."

I nodded, tapping my fingers against my water bottle. "I hope so."

Felix smiled, bumping his knee against mine lightly. "You’ll be fine. You always figure it out."

I huffed a small laugh, finally feeling a little lighter.

-

Away from the lingering rehearsal chaos, Seungmin and Mira sat off to the side, their backs against a stack of equipment cases. The stage lights overhead cast long shadows across the floor, while crew members moved around, adjusting equipment and setting up for the next run-through.

Mira stretched her legs out in front of her, rolling her shoulders back with a sigh. "That was exhausting."

Seungmin scoffed. "Tell me about it."

Mira turned her head toward him, watching as he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his knee. Her voice dropped slightly, taking on a more amused tone. "You’ve been good about keeping her in check."

Seungmin exhaled sharply. "I’m not ‘keeping her in check.’ I just call things how I see them."

Mira smirked. "And yet, somehow, those ‘things’ always happen to involve her."

Seungmin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Mira leaned in slightly, her voice quieter now. "You don’t think she deserves a little push every now and then?"

Seungmin glanced toward the stage where Y/N was still sitting, finishing her water. She looked worn out but as guarded as ever—like she wouldn’t let anyone see how much today had gotten to her.

"She already makes everything harder for herself," he muttered. "She’s too stiff about everything. If she learned how to go with the flow, maybe she wouldn’t be so miserable."

Mira sighed, tilting her head. "Exactly. And that’s why we’re helping her. She needs to loosen up, right?"

Seungmin gave her a sideways glance. "Helping? That’s what we’re calling it now?"

Mira grinned, shrugging. "I prefer that over ‘messing with her.’ Sounds better, doesn’t it?"

Seungmin huffed a small laugh. "Sure."

Mira let the silence linger for a second before nudging him lightly with her knee. "You should lean into it more."

He raised a brow. "I already am."

"Not enough."

Seungmin studied her, his expression unreadable. "I thought we were keeping this simple."

Mira smiled sweetly. "We are."

She didn’t elaborate, but the look in her eyes said otherwise.

And Seungmin, whether he realized it or not, was already standing too close to the edge.

A loud groan echoed through the mostly empty stage, cutting through the lingering rehearsal tension like a knife.

"I swear, if we have to do another run-through, I’m going to actually pass away right here," Leah announced dramatically, stretching her arms above her head before collapsing onto the floor like a starfish.

Kat sighed, nudging her with her foot. "You’re so dramatic."

Leah flailed an arm. "I deserve to be. Do you know how many times I did the same move? I can feel my ancestors judging me."

Ari, who had been rolling out her shoulders, snorted. "At least you had the energy to do it. I’m ready to call it quits and we haven’t even done the actual show yet."

Han, who had been watching with mild amusement, leaned against a speaker. "You guys are acting like we just ran a marathon."

Leah shot him a glare. "Easy for you to say, Mr. I-Have-Endless-Energy."

Han held his hands up in defense. "Hey, I’m just saying—"

"Don’t," Leah cut him off immediately, sitting up. "I’m warning you. I’m one sarcastic comment away from losing my mind."

Felix chuckled from where he was lounging in one of the chairs. "Then maybe don’t waste your last brain cell flopping around like a dying fish."

Leah gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Betrayal. Et tu, Felix?"

The conversation rippled through the room, shifting the energy from tense to lighthearted. Even the crew members looked a little more relaxed, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

Y/N, watching from the side, couldn’t help but let a small smile slip. It was moments like these that reminded her why she did this.

Even if everything else was a mess, at least she still had this.

Just as the laughter started to die down, the familiar clap of hands brought everyone’s attention back to the front of the stage.

"Alright, everyone, listen up!" One of the managers called out, clipboard in hand, already looking exhausted. "We’re going to go over tonight’s schedule one last time before you all start getting ready."

A few groans rippled through the group, but everyone straightened up, knowing this wasn’t something they could tune out.

"Doors open at 6:30. That gives us exactly four hours to finish soundcheck, do final rehearsals, and get through press content. After that, it’s hair, makeup, and wardrobe. You’ll be expected to be fully ready by 7:45, no later."

I exhaled slowly, already feeling the weight of the night settle in.

"And before I forget—Y/N," the manager continued, flipping through his notes. "We’re going to run through your solo stage after the group rehearsals, so make sure you’re warmed up and ready."

A few heads turned in my direction, but I just nodded, keeping my expression neutral.

I had known about the solo stage—it wasn’t a surprise. But now that the moment was actually here, it suddenly felt like another weight on my shoulders.

"Any questions?" the manager asked, scanning the group.

No one spoke.

"Good. Then let’s get back to work. This show isn’t going to run itself."

With that, the meeting ended, and the room buzzed with movement again. Some people started stretching, others went straight for water, and a few disappeared offstage for a quick break.

I stayed seated, gripping my water bottle a little tighter.

The first show of the tour.

And my first solo performance in front of an audience this size.

No pressure, right?

-

The dressing rooms were a mix of organized chaos—stylists running back and forth, makeup artists working quickly, and the chatter of last-minute conversations filling the air.

I had already changed into my stage outfit, but my mind wasn’t on makeup or hair—it was on footwork.

There was one part of my solo that still felt off, and if there was anyone who could help, it was Lee Know.

Spotting him in the makeup chair, I weaved through the room, dodging a passing hairstylist before stopping beside him. He glanced up through the mirror, arching a brow at my sudden presence.

"What’s up?" he asked, barely flinching as the artist continued blending product onto his face.

I exhaled, tapping my fingers against my arm. "That second half of my solo—the footwork in the transition. It still feels weird to me. Can I run something by you?"

Lee Know blinked once, then grinned slightly. "You’re asking me dance questions while I’m getting foundation put on?"

I shrugged. "Multitasking is a skill."

He chuckled, then nodded. "Alright, show me."

I took a step back, quickly marking out the section with my feet, focusing on the shift between steps that had been bothering me all day.

Lee Know studied me through the mirror, one hand resting on his knee as he watched.

From the corner of my eye, I caught movement on the other side of the room.

Seungmin.

Sitting on the couch, arms crossed, watching.

I ignored it, keeping my attention locked on Lee Know.

"It’s the placement of your weight," he finally said. "You’re setting your foot down too heavily, which makes the transition feel clunky. Shift your balance earlier, and it’ll flow better."

I nodded, running the move again with his correction. Immediately, it felt smoother.

"That’s it," Lee Know confirmed, pointing at me through the mirror. "Just keep your energy controlled. Don’t rush."

I exhaled, relief settling in my chest. "Got it. Thanks."

Lee Know smirked. "I accept payment in coffee."

Before I could respond, a voice from across the room cut in.

"You’re stressing over that?"

I turned my head, already knowing who it was.

Seungmin was still lounging on the couch, his expression unreadable.

"You’re overthinking it," he said, voice flat. "Just do it clean and move on."

I clenched my jaw but kept my tone even. "Right. Thanks for the insight."

Seungmin rolled his eyes, looking away like the conversation already bored him.

I refused to let him get to me right now.

I turned back to Lee Know, who was watching the exchange with mild interest.

"Coffee after the show," I said, picking up the conversation where we left off.

Lee Know grinned. "I’ll hold you to that."

And with that, I walked away—ignoring the fact that Seungmin was still watching.

-

The second the performance started, I knew something was wrong.

The first few beats of the song hit—and then cut out.

My heart stopped.

The audio in my in-ears flickered in and out, the instrumental disappearing and reappearing at random intervals.

No, no, no.

I kept moving, forcing my body to follow muscle memory, but the rhythm felt disconnected. I couldn't hear my members clearly, couldn't fully lock into the beat.

Panic clawed at my chest.

For a split second, I thought about looking offstage for help, but that would only make it worse. I couldn’t show uncertainty.

So I pushed through.

Every move felt hesitant, like I was a half-second behind where I needed to be. It was subtle, maybe even unnoticeable to the crowd, but I felt it.

I was off.

As soon as I stepped offstage, I ripped out my in-ears, my hands shaking slightly as I tried to process what just happened.

What the hell was that?

"You good?"

I turned to see Mira, tilting her head with mock concern.

"That didn’t look as sharp as usual. Are you feeling okay?"

I narrowed my eyes, something about her tone too knowing.

Before I could respond, Seungmin walked past, wiping sweat from his forehead. He didn’t even look at me as he muttered, "Maybe next time, don’t overthink it."

My fingers curled around the in-ears in my palm, grip tightening.

By the time we were out of the venue, showered, and back in normal clothes, exhaustion had finally settled in. The adrenaline that had carried us through the first show had crashed, leaving nothing but sore muscles and a desperate need for sleep.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet.

I leaned against the bus window, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against the cold glass as I stared out at the blurry city lights passing by. The weight of the performance still lingered in my chest.

It wasn’t bad. It should’ve felt like a success. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been off.

My mind replayed the way my steps had felt out of sync, the hesitation in my movements. The in-ears.

I should’ve been able to hear everything perfectly—but I couldn’t.

I clenched my jaw, shifting slightly in my seat as I glanced around the bus. Most people were half-asleep, some with earbuds in, others whispering quietly to their seatmates.

From across the aisle, Mira caught my eye.

She offered me a small smile, tilting her head slightly, like she was waiting for me to say something.

I didn’t.

Instead, I looked away, forcing my body to relax.

Further up the bus, Seungmin sat with his arms crossed, staring at his phone. He hadn’t said a word since we left the venue, and yet, I could still feel his presence like an itch under my skin.

I let out a slow breath, shifting my gaze back to the window.

-

The bus pulled up to the hotel, and everyone filed out slowly, dragging their tired bodies through the lobby. The exhaustion was hitting full force now, but my mind was still spinning from the show.

I needed air.

As we reached the elevators, I turned my head slightly, spotting Lee Know a few steps away.

"Minho, convenience store?" I asked casually, adjusting the hood of my sweater. "I owe you."

He raised a brow, barely hesitating before stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, alright."

The others barely noticed as we broke off from the group, stepping out into the cool night air.

I wasn't eve sure what I wanted from the store. Maybe just a moment to breathe.

The cool night air was a welcome change after the heat of the stage, the exhaustion of the show still weighing on my body. The streets were quieter now, neon lights reflecting against the pavement as I walked beside Lee Know toward the nearest convenience store.

This wasn’t some deep, meaningful outing.

I owed him a coffee. That was it.

I pulled open the door, the soft chime ringing as we stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the endless rows of snacks and bottled drinks.

"What’s your order, sir?" I asked, grabbing a canned coffee from the fridge and holding it up. "Or do I get to surprise you?"

Lee Know eyed the can in my hand before grabbing his own. "You’re lucky I’m not picky."

I smirked, tossing it into the small basket I had grabbed. "Look at me, keeping my debts in check."

We made our way to the counter, the only other customer a half-asleep student shuffling through the ramen aisle. It was the most peaceful I had felt all day.

Or at least, it should’ve been.

Lee Know leaned against the counter, watching me as I set our drinks down. "You were off today."

I stiffened slightly, grabbing my wallet. "I still delivered."

"I didn’t say you didn’t." He shrugged, tapping his fingers against the counter. "But you weren’t comfortable out there."

I sighed, swiping my card before grabbing the plastic bag from the cashier. "My in-ears were cutting out."

Lee Know hummed, taking his drink from the bag. "That explains it."

I frowned. "Explains what?"

He popped the tab open, taking a sip before answering. "Why you didn’t trust yourself."

That was the part I hated most.

I knew how to perform under pressure. I had done it a million times. But tonight? I had hesitated.

"No one noticed," I muttered, mostly to convince myself.

Lee Know arched a brow. "No one except you."

I didn’t have a response for that.

The two of us stepped back outside, the cool air wrapping around me as I tightened my grip on my drink.

"Fix whatever’s messing with you before it actually gets bad," Lee Know said, stretching one arm over his head. "Because if you keep letting it sit, it’s gonna eat you alive."

I let out a slow breath, watching as he started walking ahead toward the hotel.

I wasn’t sure what irritated me more.

The fact that he was right—or the fact that I already knew it.

Taglist: @victoriaaf @mirophobic @littlewolfieposts

[ericsprincess]

wanna take a look inside you

nc-17, stalker!Jaemin, Jaemin/female reader, cunnilingus, crack

~~~

Your stalker really cares about you.

~~~

Why the fuck is it snowing again? Just why? you groan, as soon as you open your eyes and see all the fluffy snowflakes falling behind your window. 

You reluctantly roll out of your warm bed and start getting ready for the day. You should be rushing through your morning routine, since you have to get to work, but you’re almost deliberately slow. You’re just trying to delay the inevitable, which is having to shovel half a meter of snow out of your driveway and your car, and scrape off the ice from your car windows. You’re seriously considering calling in sick, just to not have to deal with standing outside in snow and fighting your flimsy plastic shovel and tiny ice scraper. 

You’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you stop at the sudden glimpse out of your kitchen window. What the hell. 

Your driveway is already nicely and precisely shoveled, with all the snow neatly piled up on one side. Not only that, your car is completely cleaned, covered with only a small layer of freshly fallen snow, indicating that whoever took mercy on you did it only a while ago. 

You sit down behind the table and absentmindedly scratch behind your dog's ears while chewing on toast. 

Maybe one of the neighbors did it? Or maybe there is some kind of a community service? Which is weird. You just moved into this area and by the looks of it you would expect to get your car stolen rather than cleaned. 

Hmm, you think. Maybe the neighborhood here isn’t that bad. 

(Narrator voice: It is actually that bad.)

~~~

Ironically, a few days later you do end up calling in sick. The cold winter weather got to you and after an evening of feeling like shit you woke up with fever, sore throat, and no will to live. 

You blindly feel around your bed to search for your phone, eventually finding it under your dog (Oof, move, you fat fuck), and call Jaemin from HR, in your office also known as Hot Jaemin from HR, to inform him that you’re taking a sick day. 

He picks up immediately after the first ring and with his completely pleasant, friendly, and only slightly creepy deep voice, he takes your note and wishes you to get well soon. He even asks if there are some work related heads up to pass to your coworkers, just like the nice and considerate guy he always is. If only every coworker was like Jaemin (nice, competent and hot), work would be much more bearable, you sigh. Sometimes he even sits down with you for lunch in the breakroom and offers you some home baked pastry while he talks about his cats. Really, just an overall nice guy. 

You finally hang up and burrow yourself back under the covers, when you notice the time on your phone. 6:58. Huh? I must be delirious, you think hazily, already drifting back to sleep. He’s not even supposed to be at work yet.  

~~~

When you finally emerge from your supposed delirium (also known as common flu) two days later, both of which you spent almost entirely just sleeping, you take a gloriously good hot shower and head to the kitchen, wondering what you will be able to scavenge from the fridge. 

Thankfully, it seems well stocked. So you quickly make a sandwich with some fresh ham and vegetables, scarf it down like a madwoman, after barely eating for two days and put the plate into the sink.

The dishes are also done. 

The house is actually pretty spotless, you squint as you look around. Even more than usual - no socks anywhere, no cups with forgotten tea. Dog looks fed and happy. 

The laundry machine beeps to announce that it’s finished. 

Wow, it must have been really bad, because I don’t remember doing any of that. Good job, sick me, you mentally pat yourself on your shoulder. 

~~~

You open the door to get out of your house for a nice walk and you stop dead in your tracks.

What the actual everloving fuck. 

Right in front of your doorstep there is a line of six mice, nicely ordered and completely dead, and you barely manage to prevent your dog from taking a good sniff. 

You retreat back to your house, pulling the dog with you and you lock all the locks on the door. 

You don’t even own a cat? 

~~~

You would swear the oil change light in your car was blinking for the past two months. Like, it had been mocking you and your procrastination. You felt bad about it, but ignored it, because who would want to deal with it unless you really have to? 

Well, it’s not blinking today. 

Which must mean only one thing - the light is broken now too. Which might also mean some electronic failure.

You frown. Karma for being lazy found you and there goes your free Saturday. 

And then it finds you again 2 hours later for being an idiot, when it turns out the oil does not need to be changed and the whole electronic system in your car is working alright. You made the mechanic check twice because you could swear you’re not making it all up, just to end up looking like a dumbass in front of the whole shop. 

You go home in shame and then you dig out the car manual you once threw into a cupboard and never read. 

~~~

Ugh, this guy again. You fight the urge to run, but he has already noticed you and you don’t want to look weak. Or afraid. But you are, a little. 

Walking on the same street, your creepy neighbor is approaching you from the opposite direction and you’re already bracing yourself. 

He never lets you go just with “Hello,” he always tries to flirt creepily and invite you for coffee, last time he even tried to grab your hand. You shudder at the memory. You hate these kinds of slimebags and their audacity. But you’re afraid he might snap if you really tell him off. 

So, you’re not sure what to do, you’re always just distantly polite and doing your best to not give him any signal that he might interpret as his attention being welcome. 

But you did start bringing pepper spray with you and going everywhere with your dog. Not like this fat fuck could ever protect your from anything, but still. For mental support. (But seriously, why is it getting so fat? You make a mental note to take him on longer walks, despite the shitty neighborhood.)

He’s getting closer and you’re already feeling the anxiety, when he swiftly crosses the road to get to the opposite side of the street. He walks faster. It’s like he’s avoiding you. Not only that, but he’s limping and his nose is bandaged as if it were broken. 

What could have happened to him? you wonder. Maybe he bothered the wrong girl and her boyfriend went to teach him to leave women alone, you chuckle. Who knows. 

~~~

You suddenly startle out of your sleep to the sound of breaking glass. It's a deep night but you are barely gathering your wits from being so crudely woken up, but you can hear a strange commotion from downstairs. 

Burglars, is your first thought. You’re shaking hard but you slowly and silently tiptoe to your closet to get a broom, the only weapon you can think of right now. A broom in one hand and your phone in the other, with the police dialed up, just waiting to press a call, you pad down the stairs to your living room where the sound came from. 

The lights are already on. And in there there is-

“Jaemin??? What are you doing here?” you scream. 

Right in the middle of your living room is Hot Jaemin from HR, disheveled and slightly out of breath, and just about to finish hog-tying a masked man. He pulls the rope tightly and kicks the man into the ribs for good measure. He stands up and turns to you with a bright and wide smile. 

“Y/N! Go to sleep, I got it!” he says happily and throws you a thumbs up. He ignores the question.

“B-But-” you take a step forward but Jaemin stops you. 

“Be careful, Y/N, there is glass. I threw a vase at him, that fucker really thought he can mess with me like that,” he snorts. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll clean it up and deal with this bag of dicks.” he urges you gently. 

“H-How are you going to deal with him?” you’re confused. Jaemin’s smile gets even wider. 

“I’ll deal with him, I have tools in my car. Don’t worry about it.” he brushes you off. 

“You know what, I’ll just call the police,” you wave your phone, barely out of shock from what just happened. 

“Okay,” Jaemin sighs with dramatic exasperation. “But it will take forever while you could have just left it to me and gone to sleep.”

You squint at him suspiciously and press the dial. 

~~~

“So, that would be all, Mrs. Y/L/N. We will contact you about the further proceedings,” the police officer clicks his pen off and gathers his papers. Your kitchen is still flashing red and blue from police cars parked outside. 

“Thank you, officer, I really appreciate it,” you beep back at him. This police thing turned out to be a lot more serious and lengthy than you expected.

“Don’t thank me, miss, you should thank your..uhhh…” he looks up at Jaemin, who is standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. 

“Husband,” Jaemin offers, with his signature bright smile and you fight the urge to step on his foot. 

“Yeah, that. Anyways, if you have any questions, call us. Good night!” he salutes you with two fingers and brusquely walks out of your house. The cars leave one by one and then you’re alone. With Jaemin. 

You turn back to him. 

“I am not sure what to think about all of this, but thank you, I guess. But I have a lot of questions and I want answers to all of them,” you stick a finger right in the middle of his chest. 

“Okay, of course. Whatever you want, Y/N,” Jaemin offers. It’s the first time you see him look anything else but bright and cheerful. He looks almost unsure. 

“I’m now going to sleep and if I find out you’re still in this house, I’ll call the police again. On you.” you threaten. “You have 2 minutes to leave,” you add and pointedly look at the clock on your kitchen wall. 

“Oh, okay, let me just…” he gathers his rope that the cops left behind and his jacket and hurriedly slips on his shoes. He’s in the door in thirty seconds, waving at you. 

“See you at work!” he squeezes your hand briefly and runs out of your house. 

Why do I always attract these weirdos, you sigh and drag yourself upstairs to your bedroom. You fling yourself on the bed and you suddenly really feel how tired and exhausted you are from all the adrenaline. It would be really for the best to just sleep, you decide and crawl under the covers. 

But the sleep is not coming, you’re just thinking about everything that happened. You keep tossing and turning, ending up staring out into your bedroom window. 

Suddenly, a phone display lights up in the crown of a nearby tree. You decide to pointedly ignore it and you flip to the other side, turning your back to the window. You grab your dog, who’s been snoozing peacefully throughout the whole night and snuggle into his white fluffy fur to sleep. 

~~~

The next day at work you don’t waste any time. After throwing your bag at your desk you change direction right into the HR office. 

You don’t knock, just let yourself in, meeting Jaemin who is currently sitting behind his desk, unpacking his things for a day. He looks up at you, smiling. 

You cross your arms and point at the nametag on his desk that says “Na Jaemin, Head of HR” with your chin. 

“Ironic, huh?” 

“What’s ironic?” he straightens up, smile unwavering. 

“I can’t even report you, you asshole.” you frown. “And I don’t really want to go to the police because you did save my life.”

“Well that’s bad.“ he nods solemnly.

“It really is. So… Care to explain what you were doing at my house?” 

“Guarding you?” he answers like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wh-guarding?? From what?” you ask incredulously. Oh. “Okay don’t answer.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “You know that as a head of HR I have access to aaaaaaaaaalllll of your records, right?” he spins his pen between his fingers. “So I really couldn’t help but notice you moved into a really shitty location, Y/N. Really, there? I know how much you make, you don’t need to live there at all.”

“I’m saving money for my own house, okay?” you answer defensively. You couldn’t have possibly known it would be that bad. You thought that everyone was just exaggerating. “Why were you even keeping tabs on my address?” you ask him accusingly. 

Jaemin just keeps looking at you, smiling. It’s unnerving. Like a shark about to eat you, but with joy.

“...so you’re not gonna answer?” you frown. Of course. 

“I mean, isn’t that obvious?” he drawls, tilting his head as if he were mocking you. And you think it should be obvious, but at the same time, you never know what’s going on in Jaemin’s head. 

You sigh. “You know, next time JUST ASK ME OUT YOU MORON!” 

“Oh, yeah, I could have done that…” he startles with realization. “I guess I was too preoccupied.”

“With what? Figuring out my daily patterns? Putting a GPS tracker on my car?”

“How did you find that?” he asks surprisingly, pulling up his phone to check. 

You close your eyes and breathe deeply. Come on, you have dealt with worse. And he’s really hot *and* whipped, even though he has a particular way about it. And he saved your life. You could have a use for him. 

“Drive me home.”

“Sure,” he gets up immediately, picking up his jacket. 

“You’re not even gonna question me wanting to leave work just like that?” 

“Who do you think is processing your attendance records?” he winks at you and leads you out of his office to the parking lot with a hand on your waist 

~~~

“By the way, you didn’t answer.” you say while fighting with the seatbelt while Jaemin starts the car. “What were you doing at my house?”

“Uh. Is this now the time to tell you I’ve been sleeping in front of your bedroom door for the past few weeks?”

You can literally taste the headache coming. 

“I don’t think there is ever a good time for that.”

~~~

You open the door to your house and let both you and Jaemin in. Your dog comes running to welcome you and you’re not even surprised that it actually ignores you in favor of running into Jaemin,  who doesn’t wait to start playing with him, laughing and telling him what a good boy he is. 

More like a traitor. You frown at Jaemin pulling out a treat out of his jeans pocket and your dog chasing it hungrily as Jaemin teases him. Sold me for a piece of snack. 

“Let’s go upstairs before I change my mind.”

“Sure,” smiles Jaemin and stands up, suddenly taking a hold of you and picking you up over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. 

“Hey! Put me down!” you yell at him, grabbing his ass and squeezing it. “I will fucking bite you!”

“Leave that for later…” he drawls in his creepy flirty voice as he walks up the stairs. He takes you to your bedroom and gently lowers you down on your bed. 

You really like the view from under him. He leans down to kiss your neck.

“Hey Jaemin..” you begin. 

“Hmmm?” he mumbles, continuing to kiss and lick your neck while his hands are working on taking your clothes off. 

“While you were sleeping outside my bedroom…Heards anything weird?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Pretty sure I heard my name at least once,” he bites into your collarbone. He takes off your shirt and pinches off the hooks of your bra in a second and you help take it off you. 

“And you still didn’t think of asking me out?” you ask disbelievingly. He pulls back a little and you get distracted by his shoulders. You start unbuttoning his shirt, just to reveal his beautiful full chest and muscular arms. Nice.

“You said Doyoung’s name once too.” he shrugs. He doesn't really meet your eyes.

“Oh yeah, Doyoungie from accounting…Haven’t seen him in a while, I wonder how he's doing…”

“He asked for a transfer. Doesn’t matter. Let’s not talk about him,” says Jaemin once again back to his bright smile and leans down to you, now fully committed to undressing you as soon as possible. He pulls off your pants together with your panties and lets his shirt slide off his body as well. 

“What are you gonna do?” you ask, while he shifts down your body. You instinctively spread your legs.

“Apologize,” he says while looking into your eyes and straight up dives into your pussy. 

You can tell he’s really sorry. He’s putting all the enthusiasm into eating you out, trying really hard to figure out what makes you tick and then applying it tenfold. You can feel him smile the moment you start making sounds.

You can feel yourself being close to coming and you try to tell him by pulling his hair, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He knows it already and he continues to flick his tongue over your clit even as you come, holding you by your thighs firmly so you don’t move too much to slip out of his hold. Once your orgasm starts to fade, he eases up a little, switching to slower, gentle licks with flat tongue, while you catch your breath, but in a minute, he’s back at it, relentlessly stimulating you as if you didn’t even have a choice about whether you want another round or not. 

You can only applaud his skill and stamina and let him make you come, with absolutely no guidance, for the second time, barely a couple minutes after the first one. 

While you’re coming down from your orgasm, feeling all liquid and brainless, Jaemin disentangles himself from your legs and crawls up the bed to drag you into his arms.

You turn to kiss him when you realize he hasn’t even taken off his jeans yet. You slide your hand to rub over his hard cock a little and he sighs and nuzzles into your neck. “Do you want…” you start.

“No. I haven’t deserved it yet,” he breathes out. “I’m already close though…” He looks like he’s fighting himself on that.

“Oh really?” you grin, and rise up to look better at his flushed face. “Well then get back to work?” you pull him by his (insanely attractive) sex hair. He whines, you don’t know if it's from pain or arousal, but it doesn’t matter.

“I’m going to sit on your face now, okay?” you whisper to him. 

“Uhhhh uhhh,” he closes his eyes. 

“Great. If you come, this one doesn’t count,” you laugh, and swing one leg over his leg to kneel over him.

~~~

You’re lying in your bed, sweaty and tired and almost falling asleep in Jaemin arms, when you suddenly remember. 

“Hey, actually...what about the mice?” 

He turns and smiles at you with a full Cheshire cat smile. Way too many teeth.

"Well..."

[weepingtalecowboy]

Screw dignity embrace rabbit

Fanfic prompt: Where after legend turned into a a bunny because of the twilight shard

Instead of asking for help he pretended to be a non sentient creature and bolted into the forest out of spite

While twilight was dumbfounded by the development of things

And then freaked out when he realized that a pink rabbit is lose in a forest and probably about to be eaten by a bird if he isn’t fast

He ran after him but it was already too late and Legend hid from him too well to be seen

Twilight meanwhile had a breakdown about possibly getting his brother killed because he wasn’t careful with the shard and was failing at finding him and in despair about it

Then he realized that he now has to go and tell the rest of the chain that he fucking lost Legend and what the twilight shard is and that Legend probably is a genuine rabbit right now

Meanwhile Legend realizes that he was stupid for running off because a rabbit in a forest that is filled with danger is not good

He then proceeds to build a burrow to wait until the others find him when he sees a hawk above him

The chain is busy with searching the forest but obviously it’s hard to find a rabbit that built a burrow and they are at it for …OVER TWENTY HOURS

And Legend lost his vest so now they think that he could have probably been killed already and worry even more and nobody is finding anything

And Sky is failing at locating legend because he has no idea what a rabbit is

And Wolfie isn’t much better because Legend is a professional at hiding from monsters in the dark world and it is obviously easier in a simple forest

And Warriors ends up finding him and he is relived as ever that he wasn’t eaten by something to even care that legend started to eat his scarf

And everyone decided that they would never mention anything about this incident ever again

[yandere-paramour]

I have to ask this but.... Each of the Yans reactions to their darling just falling asleep on them for the first time. Maybe its while watching a movie or while reading, maybe watching a sunset or whatever.

(Sorry Vespera, I kinda dropped the ball on the sleeping part and it became something else. Also just out of curiousity, can you guys tell in which order I write these things?)

You've had a shit long week, but you can't cancel on Vivien again. You've made plans and promised to come over twice, but cancelled. Work/School is kicking your ass and you hate to admit it but you've been neglecting your boyfriend. You feel like a right asshole. Vivien is a sweetheart who would never complain about how you're treating him, but you know him. You know he misses you, and you know he's in pain. Every time he tells you it's okay, that you should take as much time as you need to recover and do you want him to do anything for you because he loves you so much and hates seeing you struggle like this, you feel so shitty.

That's why tonight is so important. Vivien excitedly texted you last night that he was making your favorite lemon tartlets for you. You know you love those little shits, and you know you love Vivien, so you have to go over, no matter how beaten down and tired you feel. Vivien lights up when he sees your car outside your apartment; his hands are cold, you know the poor boy's been pressed to the window waiting for you ever since you texted you were on your way. You greet him, kiss his cheeks, and happily endure his bear hugs.

Dinner is delicious as always, and you scarf down 3 lemon tartlets in maybe a single anime scene. As exhausted as you are, it's still a good day. You cuddle up with Vivien on the couch, letting him hold you while you watch anime together. Your stomach is full, your brain is at rest, and you're being cuddled by your gorgeous, adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend. You can't help but feel a little... sleepy.

The episode plays out a little longer before Vivien realizes how quiet you've gotten. Are you okay? Are you hurt?? Are you mad at him??? He reaches up a finger to poke your cheek, hoping you're not mad enough to bite him. Thankfully, you don't. You're just... still, and... quiet, breathing softly. Vivien's eyes widen as the truth of reality hits him. You're... asleep. You're asleep on him. You're asleep on top of him and his arms are around you. Any pain he felt from you canceling on him this week is instantly vanished; this is better than anything he could've hoped for. He tightens his arms around you, burrowing his face into your hair, smelling the smell of your shampoo. You are divine, an angel in his arms, a god that he was born to worship. The episode ends, but Vivien doesn't care. He's right where he needs to be.

It's still the early days with Atalanta. As much as she hides the pain she feels when you look at her with fear in your beautiful eyes, she's not oblivious. She knows you're scared of her, that you see her as Atalanta Montclair, sole powerhouse heir to the Montclair fortune, instead of just Ata. It saddens her; you two should be equals, be partners, stand together against the problem instead of opposite sides. But that's not where you are right now, and it's on her to fix it, to show you that she's just a person as well. And lucky her, she has several kajillion dollars to do that with.

As a precious gift to her new partner, Ata books an overnight sail on a luxury cruise complete with dinner, wildlife, breathtaking views, and even a little cocktail class for the two of you. That morning, Atalanta, with an excited smile that almost makes her look like a kid again, hands you a matching white outfit similar to her own, and politely asks you to spend the day with her. Scared, but more than a little intrigued, you accept, heading off to change. It's not a long drive, maybe an hour or so, but the gigantic yacht you are met with drops your jaw in shock. Atalanta, a twinkle in her eye, extends her hand to escort you in, and you take it.

The day is splendid. After being shown to your suite and allowed to rest, you and Atalanta take a cocktail class, chopping fruits with a tiny knife and mixing what your elementary school self would've called a "potion". You both point out the wildlife, and you surprise yourself by laughing at Atalanta's face when a dolphin splashes her. You throw stinky little fish to the sea turtles, and eat a delicious dinner under a swirling sky of orange and pink and blue. You're the only customers on the boat, but shyness makes you stick to Atalanta, and you hold her hand more often than not. It's a wonderful day, one you'll remember for years to come. You have a hot bath (by yourself) in the jacuzzi tub, and come out to what seems an empty room, at least until you see Atalanta on the balcony, staring at the sky. Cautiously, you come out to join her, asking what she's doing. Atalanta points out Orion's belt, explaining how he was the first constellation she learned from her father because he was from Greek mythology just like her name. Jamie used to tell her that if she did something great, she would be immortalized in the stars too.

Somehow, you find your head on Atalants's shoulder, listening to her as she explains more constellations. It's nice and quiet, a bit cool, but the heated blanket she put over you helps. Tired from a long day, you fall asleep, and it takes Ata an embarrassingly long time to notice, she's speaking so softly. She quiets, using her strength to carry you inside, tucking you in properly under the covers. Today was... amazing, so much progress. Ata can't even rationalize it the way she always has, she's just too happy. She feels like you both are closer now, more equal. You held her hand, and fell asleep on her shoulder. She brushes her teeth and slips into bed beside you, pulling you into a light embrace, hoping this is allowed now, that she has a bit more permission to love you as openly as she hopes for.

Noelle is worried about you. You've been acting strange this week, and she doesn't know why (and trust me, she's been scrubbing for reasons). You've settled well into moving into her apartment, you're not disobedient or angry in the slightest, and she's very pleased with you. But this week you've been skittish, clingy, stir-crazy, constantly begging Noelle for permission to go outside, but still acting the same once you came back from the gym or the coffee shop or to visit her. Clearly, your restlessness isn't due to missing your former life as well as Noelle can surmise. Maybe you just need some quality time to calm you down. So, as always, Noelle decides to plan something nice for the both of you.

You can pick whatever movie you like (as long as it's happy and probably a kids' movie, she doesn't want to make you feel worse), and Noelle even gets off a little early to make a homemade lasagna with garlic bread and a light salad for you. While it cooks, you both watch a sitcom and do a puzzle, Noelle telling you about her day and gently encouraging you to talk about yours, praising you for every word. If you would allow it, she would feed you herself, taking care of you in every way. When you're full, the movie is halfway through, and you're drowsy from the giant plate of pasta you just scarfed down. Noelle has your head on her lap and she's quietly humming as she strokes your hair, fully knowing she is putting you to sleep. She's very pleased tonight. You were so good for her, so calm and sweet and happy to spend every minute with your loving, providing girlfriend. Your eyes flutter closed, and Noelle kisses your forehead, unable to suppress a smile. This is only the beginning of everything; you're settling well, and you're so responsive to her touch and her comfort. If Noelle has anything to say about it, you will be falling asleep in her arms many, many more times.