#vvv brief mention of some characters

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 3

Pairing: Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW 18+, Oral (male receiving), Masturbation

A/N: This is the first time I have ever written anything remotely smutty... that should be a warning in itself. That being said I had so much fun writing this part and can't wait to see where my brain ends up taking this. Anyways, enough of me yappin. Enjoy :))

---

Vox couldn't help the smirk that crossed his screen as he watched your nervous form slowly approach his desk. Before he was able to speak again, he heard your tiny voice squeak out.

"M-Mr. Vox... Sir... I am so sorry for being late this morning. This is the first time that I've done this. I-It was an honest mistake and I promise that-" But before you could finish your sad excuse of an apology, Vox interrupted you by raising one of his hands.

"Y/N, it's quite alright! I know that you are always good about being on time," He said smoothly and laid back in his chair.

He watched as your anxious expression slowly turned into one of confusion.

"Oh... so you're not gonna feed me to your sharks?" You asked nervously, rubbing the back of your neck- trying your best to avoid any kind of eye contact. Vox must have thought you were joking by the way a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Did he not know that you were being dead serious??

"Oh quite the contrary! Please, have a seat," He said motioning towards one of the black, leather seats situated across from his desk.

You eyed him suspiciously before doing as you were told. Once situated in the chair, you got to take a good look at the TV demon in front of you.

You always thought that he looked good while passing him in the halls. But being up close, you were able to notice details about him that you didn't see before. One of those not so little details being that he was utterly handsome. How could a man with a TV for a face look so-

Vox caught you in your brief stare, causing a light blush to come across your cheeks. He sent a smirk your way and watched as you fidgeted in the seat.

Oh, he was loving every second of this.

"So if I'm not in trouble then... why am I here?" You asked quietly, not entirely sure you wanted to know the answer.

"I am so glad you asked! While going through some writing submissions, I came across the one that you submitted a while back-" At the mention of your work, your ears perked up- a mental victory for Vox, "- And I just wanted to start off by saying WOW! I am thoroughly impressed with what I read,"

You had to be dreaming.

No way this was actually happening.

"Are- Are you serious?" You asked with a beaming smile that made Vox's heart rate spike.

"Of course! You truly have a gift,"

The best part, he wasn't lying.

-- flashback to the previous night --

Upon arriving back at the VVV tower- Vox instantly went to look for your writing submissions.

He hired people specifically to go through and narrow down the best submissions of the month. The narrowed down bunch would then be sent to himself- for him to ultimately decide whether or not they're television worthy.

Sitting down at his desk, Vox quickly found your file. Much to his surprise, you had only submit one over the course of the years that you had worked for him. Regardless, he opened it and began reading.

Vox wasn't much of a reader but even he could tell that you were good at what you did. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Your words flowed beautifully into one another, captivating the overlord almost instantly. It was truly a sinister love story. A forbidden love between an angel and sinner. Oh and his favorite part?

Without a doubt- the smut.

But this wasn't your average porn script.

It was erotic yet, truly passionate. Vox didn't know how but, you were able to capture and convey the connection that the main characters had with each other. Hell, he felt it.

But like- actually felt it.

While reading the alluring words on one of his monitors, he began to palm himself through his tight dress pants. As he moved on, he found himself becoming more hot and bothered. Soon enough, he freed his stiff erection from the confines of his pants.

With a tight hand, he began a slow pace on himself. Vox felt truly immersed in the scene he was reading- maybe a little too immersed.

He imagined that it was you and him performing the scene- not the characters you had created.

"Her lips slowly wrapped around the tip, tasting the salty arousal that began to ooze out. She relished in the groan that her beloved ushered out above her. Ingrid's Y/N's lashes fluttered as she began to ease his my cock down into her throat. She pulled back fully- watching with seductive eyes as a string of spit connected the two of them us. Ingrid She placed both hands around Luca's my slobbery shaft and gave an oh so innocent look. Teasingly, she began to kitten lick at the tip. Before he I knew it, her mouth and hands began a delicious pace. Her head bobbed up and down with the added sinister twist and tug of her hands. She moaned quietly as Luca's my hands found a tight grip in her hair-"

Vox found himself panting slightly as his impending climax was about to release. He glanced down at the hand that was tugging at his rock hard cock. He groaned imagining you underneath his desk; looking up with fire in your eyes as your small hands moved along his length, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

He couldn't help but moan loudly as his orgasm crashed over him. His hips bucked furiously up into his hand- imagining it was your pretty mouth instead. He shuddered at the thought of you swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Vox felt himself blue screen before inevitably causing a blackout throughout the entire pride ring.

After coming down from what had to of been his most intense orgasm yet, Vox had all the information he needed.

He also needed to get rid of those damn submission reviewers.

-- back to the present --

"Wow Mr. Vox, that's very kind of you. Thank you sir, it truly means the world," You replied, trying your best to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"You deserve all the praise in the world Y/N," Vox said with a small smile. You felt yourself blushing again, not used to all this praise.

You also didn't fail to notice the tiny heart beat that occurred between your crossed legs, one that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You tell yourself it's because of how much your work matters to you. Definitely not the fact that your sexy ass boss is staring at you with a panty-dropping smile.

Yeah, definitely not that.

"I want to make that little script of yours into something more. It has all the potential to become a hit movie! That is of course, if you were interested," As soon as the words left Vox's lips, you shot up eagerly.

"YES! I- I mean yes. That would be a great opportunity for me sir," You down played how excited you were but deep down, you knew he could see right through you.

Vox couldn't help but think of how adorable you looked when excited. He wanted to make all your dreams come true if it meant he got to see you like this more often. Who was he kidding?

He already planned on making it happen.

"I am so glad to hear that," Vox rose to his feet and slowly walked around his desk to where you now stood.

You gulped lightly as he towered over your tiny frame. He examined your features briefly before extending his hand out.

"I can't wait to start working with you"

---

A/N: Sorry for this being short but the next few parts are in the works ;)

[awlumii]

# — pairing: (barista)spidey!kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man (kazuha), barista!kazuha (briefly), beidou, chongyun, barbara, shinobu (mentioned)

# — warnings: mentions of minor character death

# — summary: happy birthday, dear spider-man~ 🎶

# — tags: fluff, brief angst, hurt/comfort(-ish), yes there's kisses involved who do you think i am

# — notes: here it is! a birthday fic for my special boy on his special day 🥺 i took a couple hours out of yesterday to churn this one out, and i want to thank @the-travelling-witch @catcze @kazeyu and @kazu-sun for reading this ahead of time to both give me advice and boost my confidence! i love you guys vvv much and i couldn't have posted this without your help 💕 like always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✦ — 🕷 + 🍁 — ✦

Silence is a privilege. You learned this very early on. To be silent, to bask in the stillness of a room, is a privilege not often awarded to people like you. You’re an energizer; a people chaser. You seek chaos and the wreckage that comes with it all so you can find something to fix within it. People flee from crime scenes and accidents, but you invite them. Of course you have to be careful when taking pride in a fact like that -- it’s not like you want people to get hurt, but how else would you be able to pursue your passion?

From the time you were young, you sought to help others in their greatest times of need. You were the first to help an injured kid to their parents when they got hurt on the playground and the first to dial the paramedics during a freak accident; you were the first to drop some sneaky medical facts on your teachers in your high school biology courses and the first to volunteer to dissect something for your lab courses. “The Good Samaritan”, your peers called you. “Our school’s very own guardian angel.” So it came as a surprise to no one that you got a full ride scholarship to the best university in the city with acceptance into their competitive medical program. You dove headfirst into your studies immediately after your high school graduation in hopes of getting ahead of the program when orientation started.

It’s hard for you to say anything bad about the whole thing, really. But if you had to conjure up a single complaint, it’s that your field is so noisy. The beeping of the pagers, the crackle of overhead intercoms, the rushed medical jargon falling from fellow doctor’s lips like waterfalls, the groans and cries of agonized patients and distressed families. There’s no time for peace. You regret it at times -- being as wound up as you are 24/7 is bound to take a toll on your health one day -- but the pros outweigh the cons most of the time. Besides, you tell yourself, you’re not a resident just yet; you can have peace and quiet at home at the end of the day, right? Right.

As of late, however, you’ve been wrong. Peace and quiet is nothing but a dream to you now and it’s all thanks to the city’s “beloved” vigilante.

Standing at the taller end of five feet (he’ll never give you an exact number), Spider-Man has become the sole reason why you can only hope and pray to the powers that be for a night of pure silence. He doesn’t swing by every night (thank the stars), but he’s in your apartment, lying half-dead on your carpet on most days which is enough to make you want to start pulling out your hair. You’d think that a man with enough flesh wounds to kill a normal person twice over would be silent as he gets treated, but no, he somehow manages to weave bizarre topics out of thin air whenever he’s with you. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly smart, smarter than he likes to let on, and snarky, too. Sometimes, you want to take off the mask that he wears, ball it up, and shove it in his mouth.

..Oh, but who are you kidding? Annoying as he might be, you’ve got a thing for the man, even if you don’t know who he is. He’ll drop by during the daytime whenever he sees you alone and sometimes, he’ll even give you things that he picked up during his little patrols -- plushies from outside vendors, wildflowers from the park… Once, he gave you a freshly clipped rose from a florist that was doing handouts not too far from where you were seated. The truth is that you like him and sometimes, you wonder if he likes you, too. It’d be complicated thanks to your existing crush on the cute barista of the cafe that you frequent, but it’d be a nice change of pace.

(Ah, love. Yet another noisy thing that you’re not quite sure you want to actually let into your life.)

Speaking of a change of pace, tonight is a quiet one. You’re not quite sure if that’s a good thing yet. You’ve heard sirens in various spots around your apartment, but each one died down within twenty minutes. You took that as a sign that Spider-Man’s been swinging here and there, which means that he’s bound to drop by sometime soon. So, rather than let your guard down, you decided to stand on your balcony with a comfy sweater pulled over your head. The night air is crisp and cool, albeit a bit stuffy from all the cars zipping about. When you exhale, you can see your breath coming out in puffs of white smoke. It’s nice -- the chill keeps you alert.

You let your mind wander while you wait for your patient to arrive. Embarrassingly enough, the first thing your thoughts drift to is the barista that you saw this morning. Kazuha’s always so upbeat during the day, even more so when he sees you (a fact that does very little to quell the excited thrumming in your veins whenever you see his face). He looked a little more tired today than he does normally -- when asked if he was okay, he merely told you not to worry too much about him. You’d agreed so as to not overwhelm him, but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances the entire time you were there. He caught you at some point and gave you a wink -- just thinking about it sends your stomach aflutter. It would be terrible if something was wrong with him, you think. Would you be able to help him?

You don’t get to think about it much more as a figure sailing through the air catches your eye. Spider-Man is so easy to spot, even in the darkness above the streetlights. You tense, somewhat hoping he doesn’t spot you. If he doesn’t, you could maybe get around to fantasizing about Kazuha a little more. Unfortunately for you and your potential fantasies, he does; Spider-Man changes course right before your eyes and lands on your balcony railing. He doesn’t lose balance once, instead remaining in a steady crouching position with ease. He really is something to behold.

You stretch languidly, relishing in the way your bones pop. “Alright,” you say as you turn towards your balcony door, “where’s it hurt this time?”

To your surprise and immediate concern, Spider-Man doesn’t speak right away. He adjusts himself so that he’s sitting on your railing instead, with one leg pulled up to his chest and the other dangling towards the floor. “No injuries tonight, doc’.” He rests his cheek on his knee and turns his head to face you. “I just wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

If it were a few months prior, you would’ve said no. Now, the very thought of turning him away causes needles to press at your chest. You close your balcony door and head back over, resting your arms on the railing beside him. “Of course.”

Spider-Man must hear something in your voice that you don’t, because he shakes his head slightly. “You can say no, lovebug. I don’t want to bother you.”

“If you were bothering me, I would’ve told you to leave.” You frown at him. There’s negativity rolling off of him in waves. That’s not like him at all. “Are you okay?”

“I…” He reaches for the back of his neck before pausing. He lets his arm drop. Was he about to--? “I don’t know.”

You nudge him gently with your shoulder. Go on, you say silently. What’s up?

Spider-Man picks up on your invitation and sighs. “Do you… like your birthday, by any chance?”

“Me?” You tilt your head curiously. “I guess so. Why?”

“I guess I’m really not normal.” He turns his head, looking past you and into your apartment. “I don’t like mine at all.”

You connect the dots rather quickly. You’d feign excitement, but clearly, doing so would do nothing. If anything, it might make things awkward. “Is… today your birthday, Spider-Man?” When he nods, you make a small humming noise. “Would me saying ‘happy birthday’ cheer you up, or..?”

“If it’s you,” he says, his voice soft, “then yes, probably.” You don’t say it right away. You hesitate because of his tone, but he takes the opportunity to keep speaking. “I lost someone important to me a few years ago today.” He inhales sharply. “And a few more in the years prior. Today’s more of a day of mourning than anything else.”

Your heart shatters. You wonder if he knows how small he sounds. “I--”

“They say you shouldn’t spend your birthday alone,” he continues, “so I decided to stop by. You’re all I have left, lovebug.” You can hear the fake smile in his voice when he speaks again. “You’re going to have a hard time getting me off your back. Sorry.”

You don’t know what to say. The silence lingers and all that can be heard is the sound of cars rolling by on the street below. A car horn blares every so often at the light nearby, but you still remain quiet.

Is that why he always comes back? Because really and truly, he has no one else in his life? You can’t say the same for yourself -- you have Kazuha to keep your heart and mind occupied during your down time; you have Beidou, Hu Tao, and Chongyun to keep you busy at school; you have Barbara and Shinobu to keep you on your toes at work. You have friends, people to fall back on. But Spider-Man… doesn’t. And it’s not like you can just introduce him to your friends, either.

To think that you’ve been complaining about him when all he’s been doing is spending time with the only person who gives him the proper time of day.

The guilt that seizes you makes you hiss softly. What do you do now? You’ve had tender and serious moments with Spider-Man before, but this is too different. Do you apologize for being an asshole? What good would that even do? Do you make a gift for him on the spot? No; that might make him feel worse…

“I’m grateful for you.” Spider-Man’s voice cuts your thoughts short. “I really am. I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess. I hope you can forgive me.”

“If I… didn’t want to be involved,” you manage, “I would have told you to stay away a long time ago. Don’t apologize; I want to be by your side.”

Again, you hear a sharp intake of breath. “That’s--”

“Dangerous? Stupid? Yeah, I’m aware. But since I’ve never told you this out loud before, you’re my friend, Spider-Man.” You rest a hand on top of his without looking him in the eye. “Whether you knew that or not, we’re friends.” It feels weird to say, but you mean every word. Of course, friends don’t think about unmasking each other and kissing them every once in a while, but you’re not going to dwell on that. Your face starts to burn. “I wouldn’t want to be rid of you at all.” You say honestly.

Spider-Man moves his hand so that he’s holding yours. “...I appreciate it.” He says after a brief pause.

And once again, there is silence. It’s one that you can bask in, you find, especially when Spider-Man’s grip on your hand tightens. His presence is comforting, and only now do you realize that he thinks the same of you. The city marches on below your balcony, everyone encased in the same chilly autumn breeze that causes rigid goosebumps to rise on your skin. It’s nice, this silence. Is this the stillness that you’ve been missing out on because of Spider-Man? What are the odds that you’d finally be able to enjoy it with him?

You shudder and sneeze suddenly, shocking the both of you. Spider-Man jolts but eases into a laugh. “Are you cold?” He asks.

You sniff and tug the hood of your sweater up over your head. “No,” you grumble. “You’re cold. I’m just peachy.”

Spider-Man hops down and leads you inside, his fingers still intertwined with yours. “You’re a horrible liar,” he jokes. Once you’re inside, he stands in the threshold and laughs again. “You’re shaking.”

“Why couldn’t your birthday be during the summer or something?” You whine and make yourself small in your sweater. “It’s fucking cold outside.”

“What can I say, I like the fall more.”

“Whatever.” You ball your hands into fists inside your sweater pockets. “You’re not coming inside?”

Spider-Man shakes his head. “Something could still happen. I’m going to head back out.”

An idea comes to mind. It’s a stupid idea, a really, really, really stupid idea, but it's an idea nonetheless. You don't have much in the way of material goods to give him -- it'd be a cold day in hell before you coughed up one of your expensive medical supplies (as if he had any use for those with his speedy healing) -- and despite knowing him for as long as you have, he has yet to give any real hints as to what it is he likes. When you think about it, you realize that Spider-Man's been super careful as to not give you any kind of clues as to what kind of person he is without the mask. All of his likes and dislikes are a complete mystery to you, unfortunately.

Well, almost all of them. He's told you time and time again that he likes this one thing — one person.

“B-Before you do,” you stammer, “what’re your thoughts on birthday gifts?”

You can practically feel the confused look he gives you. “Why?”

Rather than let the embarrassment consume you, you let your body move on its own accord. You walk closer to him and place your hands on either side of his face. “Stay still.” You whisper. Without waiting for his question, you lean forward and place a kiss on his lips right over his mask. You can feel them just beneath the cloth and hear the noise of surprise that he makes, but you don’t let it stop you. You stay there for just a moment longer before pulling away. Your face heats up to an impossible degree and you keep your head turned away to avoid further humiliation. Spider-Man is completely quiet, likely with shock, and it makes you want to bury your head in a hole. He's told you before how much he likes you; even if he was joking, he's said it too many times for you to consider it as just a joke. A kiss should suffice as a gift, right? “Happy birthday," you mutter. “Now go--”

Before you finish speaking, a gloved hand comes over your eyes. You start to question what the hell he’s doing, but a pair of uncovered lips cover your own, silencing your protests. You melt into the kiss after a brief moment of shock and Spider-Man pulls you in closer with his free hand. Closer, closer, and closer still. He kisses you like you're something gentle, fragile, prone to break at any moment. And yet he tilts his head and nips at your bottom lip, kissing you deeply, like you mean something to him.

Friends don't kiss like this.

You can’t think. You can’t move. It’s just you and your masked vigilante and the sound of sirens outside.

The sound is what causes Spider-Man to pull away after a while. He doesn’t uncover your eyes right away and you hear fabric moving -- likely him fixing his mask. When he moves his hand, your vision feels hazy and your throat tight. You stand there in limbo, the two of you just staring at each other. You tug on the strings of your hoodie gently. “You should, um… you should get going.”

You wonder how he’s looking at you right now. Spider-Man clears his throat. “I… Yeah. You’re right.” He starts to reach for you, but he drops his hand and balls it into a fist by his side. “Will I… see you tomorrow?”

It’s a hesitant question -- a request, if not anything else. Am I allowed to see you tomorrow? You nod without hesitation. Who are you to refuse him? “Yeah.”

Spider-Man’s shoulders drop with relief. “Okay. Then…” He walks backwards onto your balcony and raises two fingers in his usual salute. “...Thank you for the birthday gift.” And with a push backwards, he tumbles off of your balcony and zips into the biting autumn night, leaving you in your living room.

You walk forward and close the door to your balcony. You turn your eyes to the clock on the wall. 12:00 AM, it reads. It’s October 30th. Your kiss was the last and only gift he'd received yesterday.

✦ happy happy happy birthday, kazuha.. i hope he enjoys his day with his new family 🥺💕💗

✦ i'll make an origins post about spidey!kazuha someday, hehe

[altschmerzes]

So, i just saw a post that showed a young Phil Dunster (buddyjuststop/729422574417854464/ok-but-consider-vvv-this-is-phil-dunster-when-he) and it got me thinking of your baby jamie au and how you perceive him. What hair styles doe he have, is he still walnut mist? Does he keep it natural, is it short? Does he have head bands?What does he wear? Obvsly,He's not flashy like canon, is he low key teen angst? Does he secretly have a roy shirt? I need your views please.

YEAH IVE SEEN THAT PICTURE it breaks my brain a little bit bc that'd be about ~3-ish years older than jamie is when wriggle up on dry land starts. i had a similar brain-breaking experience when my little cousin's family was in town with his soccer team of 15 year olds and i was sitting there watching them play periodically being struck by like 'oh my gd they're jamie's age in the baby jamie au..... this is nuts'

this is such a fascinating question thank you!! it's interesting bc i often don't like. picture characters much, i skew pretty hard into aphantasia. i can't like. i do not have Images in my head generally. i CAN conjure images but they're extremely brief, often vague, change without my intention, and are very hard to hang onto, even when i'm actively gripping them in both hands. so it's often difficult for me to describe things, or remember to describe things. it's something i've been working on! every bit of visual description in my writing is there bc i worked very hard to make sure there was some there.

THAT SAID. i do have thoughts on this. i think his hair at the moment is its natural colour and about the length it is in season 1! he doesn't do much with it yet, at least not most days, though he's picky about how it looks. a lot of his style is very muted and subdued, the way we saw it get when he went back to manchester - a lot of black and grey and white. this is impacted both by the fact that he lives at home with his father and isn't really in a situation where he can express himself in his personal presentation, and because he's got extremely limited spending money. given that he wears a uniform to school and has a work jacket he wears at work, he doesn't often have a lot of say in what he wears either. lot of hoodies, outside of work and school. Typical Teen Garb.

(he has a tendency towards borrowing things from his kidgang friends. they made fun of him for it a bit at first and then noticed he immediately stopped doing it, and that felt weird and a bit sad, so they simply don't bring it up now. slowly, he started doing it again, and now like. a quarter of his regularly worn shirts and jackets are things that don't actually belong to him.)

one of the main points of individuality and personality he has in the way he dresses and presents himself is his shoes. he's got battered old converse style sneakers that he loves and has doodled all over the rubber strip of - stars, as mentioned in his intro in the fic. and he has brightly coloured shoelaces that he replaces whenever he finds new ones he likes. they're bright neon yellow now. jamie also doesn't have his ears pierced yet. This Will Be A Plot Point In The Future.

(he 1000% secretly has a roy shirt. probably more than one. he's hidden it away somewhere but he won't get rid of it. he chooses not to think too hard about it.)

[tokyoteddywolf]

Yuri On Ice, Vet Au!

Vet AU!

In which our baby Yurio is a vet intern trying to do his job while Dr.Yakov is out, but the animals are all being lil shits-

for @ask--otayuri

hope i did the idea justice with my writing! (And yes, i made Phichit a dog bc he can be even more devious as a dog than a hamster-)

so uh, tell me what ya’ll think? :) *insert nervous author noises here*

Yuri Plisetsky loved animals. He really did. He even had a cat at home. But these animals here at Saint Petersburg Animal Hospital constantly found ways to make him wish for the thousandth time that he should have chosen somewhere other than St.Petersburg for his veterinary practice debut. “Viktor! No! Put poor Chris down, you're drooling all over his fur! I just bathed him!” The blonde yelled as he chased the rambunctious silver husky around the back office, the therapy dog having picked up Christophe after he'd stolen Viktor's spot. Said golden cat hung from Viktor's jaws, looking quite amused at the situation.

Yuri finally managed to pin the husky down, freeing Chris and getting a purr of thanks from the beautiful Maine Coon cat as he moved away to find somewhere to rub off the wetness on his back. “Do I need to get that Yuuko lady to walk you again? She's a groomer here, not a dog walking service.” Yuri scolded the indifferent dog, moving to open the door to the kennel area in the large pet hospital.

Viktor was the senior therapy dog, a beautiful silver Husky with ice blue eyes, and recently trimmed fur so that he didn't shed everywhere like last year, when he had been literally leaving clumps all over the couch in the waiting room out front. Christophe was their comfort cat, mainly for worried pet owners to coddle while waiting in the emergency room for news on their own pet.

Yuri sighed before walking over to the Nursery part of the building, Viktor following eagerly behind. Yuri raised an eyebrow at the husky, smirking. “Oh, so that's what you want, eh?” Viktor danced in place, whining. The blonde vet in training rolled his eyes and opened the door, Viktor dashing in and whining. A soft bark echoed from down the hall, and Viktor padded off in that direction.

Yuuri, the Nursery guard dog, a fluffy black Shiba Inu with a weight gain tendency, yipped happily as he finished his rounds around the puppy kennels and trotted over to Viktor. Yuuri and Viktor were an item, much to the amusement of the staff. Yuuri had a way with little animals, so it was only natural to make him the Nursery guard dog during his therapy training. Yuuri was still working on his shyness, but it was getting better. “Don't stay too long, old man. We've got a patient in half an hour.” Yuri called as he walked out, going back to his original plan of heading to the lunchroom to grab a cup of coffee from the vending machine.

He immediately had to abandon those plans as yelping came from the Rodent Room, where all the smaller animals were stored. He recognized that yelp, and slammed into the room, whipping around to shut the door before some of the hamsters who were supposed to be in recovery could escape. They were ranged from sore teeth to stomachaches to bad diets and whatnot, but Yuri didn't specialize in rodents and the like.

“Phichit! Who let you in here, Mr. I-Like-To-Chew-On-Wires-And-Devices? You're supposed to be in your kennel waiting for Celestino to come get you! Did Mila unlock her cage again and go on a jailbreaking spree?” He growled at the irritating Thai Ridgeback, who looked sheepish at being caught red-pawed, covered in squeaking hamsters and a few mice mixed in. Yuri looked around for the familiar ginger ussuri that was Mila, and found the female cat casually lying in a pool of sunlight on the windowsill. “Are you fucking kidding me right now.” The blonde man deadpanned, completely at his wits end.

Groaning, he set to work gathering up the tiny animals and putting them back in their cages before taking Mila and Phichit back to their kennels in their respective rooms. By the time he was done, it was time to meet up with the patient. He hurried to where Dr.Yakov was waiting, the old man having come back for his shift at the hospital. He stood to the side, Viktor pressed against his leg having followed him to the examination room, and took mental notes as Dr.Yakov checked up on the health of the little golden retriever puppy in front of him. “Alright, Yuri, stethoscope please.” Yakov ordered without looking up, taking the offered instrument and proceeding to listen to the pup, Leo, as he breathed.

Once everything was good and over with, Yuri finally, finally got to go home. First thing he did once he got into his shared apartment was collapse on the couch and groan. His roommate, Otabek, popped his head out from his room where he was no doubt putting together a sketch for a new motorcycle design, and gave a small, pitying smile at his best friend's state on the couch. “Long day?” The mechanic asked, looking slightly amused. Yuri merely groaned back, causing Otabek to chuckle. “Good thing you've got tomorrow off!” He called as he disappeared back into his room, leaving Yuri to fall asleep on the couch while his own cat curled up on his back.

The thought of a day to himself tomorrow had him rolling his eyes, already knowing that when he went back, the animals would probably wonder why he hadn't been to work that day. Crazy, attached animals. Very attached to him, for some reason. Though, if anyone asked, he'd probably say he thought it to be annoying. Really though, he didn't mind. He fell asleep smiling anyway.