mayhem in the morning

Even More hc’s about Seijoh
  • Kyoutani must always step on the crunchy leaves 
  • Once someone insulted Oikawa and Kunimi and Kindaichi roasted him so hard he cried
  • Iwaizumi only knows how to bake one thing, and that one thing is milk bread. Guess who’s fault that is
  • Matsun is secretly super stylish, but dresses like a meme to maintain his Aesthetic 
  • Makki just honestly does not understand fashion. This irritates Oikawa to know end
  • Do NOT go near Matsun and Makki on April 1st. In fact, don’t even leave the house. Lock your door and pray. Oikawa learned this the hard way 
  • Sometimes Watari doesn’t feel like he’s a good enough libero. That’s when Oikawa makes Watari set for him and the rest of the team receive his spikes. It’s always a massacre. The team then insists he’s an absolute necessity, and Watari feels a little bit better afterwards
  • Yahaba played flute in middle school
  • Kunimi often hums to himself. He has a surprisingly good voice as well, but only Kindaichi knows this
  • Coincidentally, Kindaichi is an absolutely atrocious singer, and everyone knows this (he will forever hold a tiny grudge against Makki for forcing him into karaoke night)
  • March 1st…where do I even start on this one. March 1st is a legend. An enigma. The day that 100% of the team goes all out to celebrate Yahaba and Matsun’s birthday. Double the cake. Double the mayhem. Double the people getting kicked out of IKEA at 2 in the morning 
  • Oikawa can walk in heels
  • The circumference of Iwaizumi’s bicep is nearly the size of Makki’s head. The team finds this funny. Makki does not



I’ve written headcanons for Dazai’s wedding day on the old blog, but I couldn’t find it so here’s the new and improved Dazai’s wedding day headcanons 2.0

• The night before Dazai’s wedding he’s a complete wreck, not because he’s nervous but because he can’t stand to spend a night away from you! He’s openly whining as you’re packing and flopping himself over the suitcase begging you for one more quickie before you leave him for the night. As excited as he is about making you his wife he’s throwing a toddler-like tantrum about not spending the night together. With a pout he sees you off  (Kunikida had to kick him out of the doorway) as Naomi drags you into the car for the hotel. Kunikida practically ties Dazai up for a good two hours until their car heads towards the lodge separately from yours.

• When the thought of marriage first popped into his head he never thought he would be selective about the type of wedding, but as the planning progressed Dazai discovered he wanted it somewhere open under the sunlight, and somewhere outside of the city. He never put much thought into it afterwards and let you loose with the plans, but the moment he steps out of the car and sees the venue he’s absolutely floored. He wasn’t supposed to see it but he managed to escape Kunikida’s clutches and sneak off to the ceremony site out of curiosity.

• The night before the wedding Dazai barely sleeps, and Kunikida threatens him more than once to kick his ass to sleep if he needs it. Instead Dazai waves him off in a very calm, undramatic and un-Dazai like manner, and continues to hunch over the little desk near his bed. Atsushi’s wants to ask Dazai what he’s doing as does Tanizaki, but Dazai lies over the desk and tells them it’s a secret for his bride to be. Dazai watches the moonlight fade in and tries to imagine you lying in bed with him snuggled up with a gold band around his fingers and yours.

• Naomi winds up snatching your phone the morning of the wedding and responding to Dazai’s naughty “lets have some pre-marital fun one last time!” texts. Ultimately Kunikida throws his phone out the window because he’s tired of seeing Dazai rolling around on the floor in his pajamas pouting about how Naomi is being too cruel and not letting him see his beloved.

• Getting Dazai ready is like taming a wild ostrich that had too much redbull. He’s off the wall the majority of the morning, causing mayhem around the lodge and getting ‘lost’ for a good hour and forty-five minutes only to return with dirt on his face and a twig in his hair. Nobody has any idea where he went, but he’s calmed down since he came back from his mystery adventure and starts asking Atsushi to get his tux ready.

• There’s a moment where Dazai is lost in his thoughts, gazing out the window and holding down a swelling anger because Odasaku should be by his side. His throat constricts and he tries hard not to let out any emotions on his face, especially sadness, this is his wedding after all. In his head he swears he hears Odasaku saying “don’t pout on your wedding day, Dazai”.

• Dazai watches the guests seat themselves without a sweat, and he takes his place beneath the twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the towering oak trees without feeling nervous. He watches the sun tunnel through the lush green leaves above his head and the butterflies dance around the white wooden arch wrapped in pink and white roses. The moment the music starts his fingers begin to fidget, but he’s okay. Until he sees the silhouette of your figure decked out in a white dress—for the first time his emotions spring free and are painted across his face.

• As much as the ceremony means Dazai just wants to get to the party, the fun part where he can hold you in his arms and happily call you his wife. The second he hears “you may kiss the bride” his lips smash against yours, large hands circling your waist and lifting you up into his chest. He nibbles your lips and continues kissing for longer than you’re supposed to, and causes a very awkward hiccup from Atsushi before Kunikida flicks the back of his head. The cheesiest smile tugs his lips upward as he entangles your hand with his and tugs you down the aisle.

• The reception is held in a small cabin extending through the forest with a massive wrap around deck. Dazai is floored at the wedding you were able to pull off on a not-so-large budget, and he lets you know a hundred times over. He’s like a kid in a candy store—pointing at the flower arrangements, the lighting, the color schemes, everything. He yanks you to him and snuggles you close, unwilling you detach from you as you’re both scooted towards the table in the center.

• Dazai keeps your hand secured in his on his lap as you both eat. When he sees you struggling to eat with one hand he offers his assistance “let me help you Mrs. Dazai~” he chimes while actively shoving a little too much food in your mouth. Once again your knight in shining armor is quick with a napkin to catch the dribbles, and he finishes with a kiss even if you’re giving him a grumpy face.

• Dancing with Dazai is an event usually, and he’s often keeping you on your toes with his made up moves. But, for your first dance as a married couple Dazai holds you close and expertly leads you in a romantic waltz. He merely winks if you ask him where he learned to dance so well.

• Near the middle of the party when everyone is dancing and celebrating Dazai tugs you to a dark corner and slides a small scrap book in your hand. He kisses your lips softly, lovingly, and tells you even if the relationship ended he never wanted to forget you. Now that you’re married, he says, he put together all the photos and important mementos from your relationship together and now you both can start a new scrap book together. There’s minimal artistic design in Dazai’s gift, mostly scribbles and notes on the edges of pictures, but it’s completely full of things you never even knew Dazai saved.

• Dazai is counting down the seconds until the reception is over—not that he didn’t enjoy himself—he just wants to take you home. The minute he pulls you through the archway of sparkles he tosses you over his shoulder like a rag doll and races to the honeymoon suite. His mouth molds with yours as he carries you to the room and tosses you onto the bed, falling with you and nibbling at your neck. He purrs your name and asks if you’re ready to lose your voice screaming your husband’s name.

anonymous asked:

13. Your pick

Sweet Affectionate Moments Meme (send in more prompts for any of my AUs!)

Have “A Sorry Kiss” from the Modern Glasgow Frasers!

Claire stretched under the soft duvet, eyes shut tight against the sun streaming through the curtains.

“Quiet!” Jamie’s theatrical whispers echoed in the hallway. “The whole *point* of surprising yer mam wi’ breakfast is keeping it a surprise! And ye canna be making so much noise because that way she’ll ken we’re here!”

“Ooh!” two-year-old William’s soft voice exclaimed.

“Sshh!” his brother and sisters admonished.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Fergus - will ye open the door, man?”

Claire heard the door creak open, and the patter of eight small Fraser feet scampering toward the bed.

“Wait -” Jamie admonished -

“Supwise, Mama!” Three-year-old Brianna jumped on the bed, shoving against her four-year-old sister Faith.

In the same instant, Claire let out a surprised “oof” and Faith crashed to the floor, knocking Fergus’ tall legs and upsetting the tray of fruit, eggs, and coffee.

Fortunately the crockery - Claire’s inheritance from her parents, which the Frasers only used on special occasions - fell harmlessly on the big bed. But the coffee pot crashed to the ground, sending a scalding hot tide across the rag rug Jenny had given them for their anniversary two years back.

What followed was the typical chaos and mayhem of any morning in the Fraser household - Fergus yanking Faith away from the coffeepot; Jamie throwing William airborne and out of harm’s way so that he crashed, giggling, on the mattress beside Brianna; Claire still muzzy from sleep and trying to decipher exactly what was happening.

It didn’t take long to organize the wee Frasers into clean-up duty, and then send them with Fergus back to their rooms to change into fresh clothes. For they would go out for breakfast today.

And then Jamie crashed on the mattress beside Claire, exhausted.

She snuggled closer, careful of the stray strawberries that rolled out from under the pillow.

“I’m sor-” he began.

But she interrupted him with a smiling, forgiving kiss.

The Wraith

A/N: To wrap up my 31 days of writing (almost) every day, I thought I’d write my first self-contained story.  And given that it’s Hallowe’en, I tried to make it scary.  I’m not 100% satisfied with the result, but I’d love to hear your thoughts.  And thank you to all of you who’ve liked and commented and followed over the past month.  It’s been great encouragement to continue bashing my forehead against the keyboard when I really ought to have been sleeping!

Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic

It was into the wet-wool depths of medicated slumber that the sounds first intruded.  The soft scuff of sock-clad feet.  A floorboard’s complaint.

Dana Scully ascended through layers of torpor, a foreign sense of rightness greeting the day’s beginning.   It was after 8am, though the light was still dim.  The heavy geometrical masses of her furniture seemed cast in monochrome.   She’d apparently silenced her alarm and would soon be late for work, but instead of dismay, an ember of contentment burned.  Rather than question the feeling, she lay adrift in her derelict bed.

Laughter, soft as ashes falling, came from beyond the hall.

Slowly, she lowered her bare feet to the chilled floor, oddly bereft of apprehension.  Her weapon lay idle on the nightstand as she made her way to the living room.  Pale grey light suffused the room.  Nothing seemed amiss.  A dream. The Lorazepam she started taking during her cancer treatment now eased her into oblivion each night, and with it came haphazard images that faded into wakeful fogginess.  As a contraindication, loss of memory was something she willingly suffered.  There was more that she’d prefer to forget than remember.

Resigning herself to plodding heavy-footed through the motions of her workday, she walked to the kitchen.  Even if her spirit was missing, her body could still go through the motions of making coffee.  Halfway into the room, she froze.  Sitting at her table was a little girl.

“May I have Cornflakes for breakfast, Dana?”

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Your Desk is a Mess Part 12

Summary: In which Y/N gradually (and awkwardly) spends a lot more time with her office mate than she bargained for (Office AU).

WIP List

Chapter List


Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

Part Twelve

If Steve had heard your conversation with Bucky, he hadn’t shown it.

It had been months since the two of you had spoken. You had seen him walking around with Janice a lot, and she’d come visit him in his office. Well, your office. What did he see in her, anyway? You found her whiny and clingy at best, but maybe your opinion wasn’t the most objective one out there. You’d seen her take the bus home with him, despite your best efforts to avoid getting on the same bus. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you’d also seen her in your building.

However, she didn’t have any problem with you at all. In fact; she’d often greet you whenever she passed you. Once on the bus she’d tried to wave you over to include you in a conversation with her and Steve, but you quickly lied your way out of it.

Ever since Natasha and Bucky had started dating, she’d gotten off your case about Steve. Bucky had told her about Janice, and she’d become very quiet on the topic of your love life. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Sure, in retrospect, you’d had a crush on him. Whatever. None of it mattered now, because he had a girlfriend. That’s just how it was.

Currently, you, Steve, Bucky, and Janice were in your office. You sat at your respective desks; Janice sitting on Steve’s lap. You resisted the urge to make some hypocritical comment about being professional and inappropriate behaviour in the workplace. Instead, you completely ignored them while they mumbled to each other, faces millimetres apart. Huh. Maybe you weren’t as good at ignoring as you thought.

“You ready?” you asked, spinning around so you were facing Bucky. He’d asked you to help him out with a report, and you were more than happy to comply.

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picture this: lil shaw (or lil-er shaw, as a lil kiddie), fussing over the glass of milk she’s given with her breakfast till her dad tells her that milk has calcium, and calcium grows bones, so people can grow tall!

now picture an older but only slightly taller shaw, years later, drinking her milk every morning still. where the fuck is that calcium she was promised? how the fuck is that idiot who sits behind her in class still able to use her head as an armrest at recess (at least until she twists his arm behind his back)?

then shaw’s in her teens. some kids get their growth spurt late, she reasons, so she keeps drinking her milk. not only that, she starts gulping it down in larger quantities. she likens it to a brute force approach to getting that damn calcium into her bones.

“go cow or go home,” shaw quips after joining team machine. so when john opens shaw’s fridge after root kidnaps her, and the doors swing open to reveal grenades, guns, rifles, and a half-full quart of milk, and harold asks “have u found anything” and john says “nothing unexpected”

that’s because reese, im sure, has gone on countless stakeouts with his mayhem twin only to wake up in the morning to find shaw standing there in her shorts, guzzling down a carton of milk that she’d picked up along the way. she never found that fuckin calcium in time for a growth spurt but it’s too late for her now. shaw’s gotta have her milk

Home (Brett Talbot)

i love you guys so much for the love you’ve shown Anchor and Early Mornings!! keep it up xx

warnings: none (maybe Brett’s injury and throwing up??)

My breathing is heavy and shallow.  My palms are damp and clammy with sweat.  The only sounds I can hear are the soles of my converse against the parking lot concrete and the pounding of blood in my ears as I push open the heavy door leading to the vet’s.  When I get inside, the first thing I see is Brett’s body, taut and spasming as Derek and Stiles desperately try to contain his arms.

“What the hell is happening to this kid?” Stiles exclaims, flinching as yellow froth explodes from Brett’s mouth.  My mind is yelling at me to do something, to help, but it’s like my feet are super glued to the floor and ropes are wrapped around my torso, pinning my arms to my side.  I can’t function.  I can barely breathe with the thought that Brett is in real trouble.  All because of that little prick on the lacrosse team.  My boyfriend, the best and most caring person I know, could die on this cold table.  Just the thought causes my brain to stop functioning all together.

“He was poisoned by a rare wolfsbane.  I need to make an incision and you need to keep him as still as possible,” Deaton says to no one in particular.

“Oh, God.  I’m going to be sick.”  With that, I run to a garbage bin and empty the contents of my stomach completely.  At this point, my hair is stuck to the back of my neck and I have a sour taste in my mouth.

Stiles looks at me and pity flashes in his eyes before he says, “We need your help.”  Then he turns to Derek.  “And we could really use a little werewolf strength here.”

“I’m not the only one with wolf stren-”

Deaton interrupts.  “If you don’t hold him still, the incision could kill him.”

Taking a deep breath, I reach for the arm Stiles is struggling to wrangle alone and watch as Deaton attempts to cut between Brett’s ribs, but he is interrupted as Brett’s eyes fly open.  For a split second, my hearts soars and I think he has healed himself.  This feeling ends, however, as he pushes all of us away, jumping from the table and looking for a way out.  My head hits a metal tray and I fall to my knees, watching as Peter appears and punches Brett, knocking him out.

“I guess I still have a little werewolf strength myself.”

I touch my forehead and see blood on my fingertips, but push it aside as Stiles kneels by Brett.

“Hey, Doc, I don’t think he’s breathing.”

I scramble over and run my fingers through Brett’s stringy hair as Deaton seizes the opportunity to make the incision.  Immediately, yellow gas comes from it and I hear relieved gasps, signaling he is able to breathe again.  I find myself doing the same, knowing he is going to be okay.  Then he mumbles something repeatedly that I can’t hear at first.  Frowning, I lean closer and realize he is saying my name.  I kiss his forehead and run my thumb across his cheek, happy he will be alright.

Derek and Peter help lift him, letting him rest on the table because, according to Deaton, he might be out for a while.

Stiles puts a hand on my shoulder.  “Hey, your head is bleeding, are you alright? Deaton, you have a bandage she can use?”  He sits me down in a chair and puts pressure on my forehead, getting me a glass of water.

“You’ve had one hell of a day,” Derek says, with a smirk, lightening the mood tremendously.  I respond with a snort and roll my eyes.

“You can say that again.”

It’s been about an hour since all the mayhem and Brett begins to shift slightly, groaning.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I say and his baby blue eyes flutter open, staring straight at me.  He looks relieved and calm, something I was afraid I’d never see again.

“What happened?”  My beautiful boyfriend sits up and stretches, opening his arms and signaling me to come closer.  “Did I do that to your head?”  

I don’t answer, but walk over and wrap my arms around his neck, knowing I most definitely smell like vomit.  I inhale deeply and can almost taste the salty brine of the sweat on his skin.  Anyone standing outside our little embrace, looking in, would see a mess: a small girl with a slight tremor in her hands and a boy who literally just came back from the dead after being poisoned with wolfsbane because he is a werewolf.  I mean, how much more bizarre does it get?  But my God, he is home.

anonymous asked:

I really liked your drunk champions headcannons. Now, how the champions (again, with link and zelda) would react if their s/o were drunk ?

i know alcohol affects people differently– i personally get SO sleepy– but i’m going to say their s/o is a happy, giggly drunk


- tries to lecture them about drinking responsibly, yadda yadda yadda, but isn’t actually upset because he likes to see them happy

- takes this time to admire them more since their guard is down and they’re acting however they want without any form of restraint

- tones down the cockiness and becomes more generous with his compliments because face it, they’re so cute right now


- finds them and the whole situation hilarious

- says and does harmless jokes/teasing like poking fun at their slackened hand-eye-coordination or wacky dance moves

- he’ll tell them about all the mayhem and fun the next morning and laugh about it some more


- protective, protective, protective!!! arm around them at ALL times, never leaving their side

- s/o will spill embarrassing stories about Urbosa which grants an understandable hysterical shout from said champion

- wont stop them though because she can’t help but get flustered by the cuteness of their happy s/o


- i don’t think there would be much of a difference seeing as blue talked about how she would care for her friends, being the only one sober

- but her s/o gets EXTRA attention while drunk and in the aftercare

- the other champions, if they too need hangover care, will tease her and sarcastically complain about her s/o getting more attention (she doesn’t care)


- mouth still shut most of the time, but he can’t help but chuckle at their silliness

- likes to listen to them talk whether its rambling, complaining, or just being goofy

- makes a great hangover breakfast!!! he probably wouldn’t tease them about their antics unless they demand he spill


- naggy, but gives in to their giggling and cute slurring “fine, you can drink for now but next time be wary of your limit”

- similarly to link, she will keep quiet this time to take the time to admire them

- good at general care for them during and after drinking

-mod makar

This took me way longer than it should have to finish, but I give you Saturday Morning Mayhem in the Aphrodite Cabin. 

Characters belong to @rosyredlipstick 

Valentines is a nightmare(eng ver.)

Title : Valentines is a nightmare

Pairing : Naruhina, Sasusaku, Shikatema, Saiino + slightly ChoujiKarui

Rate : K (very fluffy!)

Note : An English translation of Thai ver. Valentines is a nightmare.

I know it’s too late for Valentines, but hey! Finally I finished translating it!

Well, I’m still an amateur in English literature, so some stuffs may not as smooth as in Thai ver. I’ll try to improve it next time.

A big hug for Hiyuura for correcting and improving an Eng ver. <3

Here for bookluverandmore​ who asked for a translation. ><

And do not repost without permission please.

              “Valentines is  a nightmare!”

              Those words hung in the air inside Ichiraku Ramen store, as loud as a shout. Fortunately, there were no customers other than him and his friends that night, otherwise the Loudmouth would certainly attract others’ cold glares. Still, the looks he received from his companion weren’t so appreciative either. 

              “How troublesome. It is just another troublesome festival, isn’t it?” Shikamaru said while snapping his chopsticks, ready for his meal that had just arrived.

              “Valentines is an important day for couples, the women in love, chocolate shops, flower shops, cafe, and sweet shops.” The monotonous speech made everyone stare at the man in surprise. Sai just shrugged as if it was no big matter. “The book says so.”

              “That’s why it’s a nightmare!” Naruto threw his arms up as if to show magnitude of the aforementioned nightmare.

              “Explain then, how come Valentines is a nightmare, Naruto?” Shikamaru sighed, letting the blond be the center of the conversation for this men’s night out.

              Naruto grinned triumphantly - it was always like this so nobody cared anymore - then he said:

              “Tomorrow will be our first Valentines ‘ttebayo!”


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Weren’t we just talking about boost weather 🤔💨💨 siiiick🤘 via our friends @lsx
#Turbo #lsx #nova chopping early in the morning @wilson131 😈 #hotrods #lsx #mayhem #protouring texas

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If you have to come to Italy to destroy our monuments please consider this:


((I was talking with @operationtixandtricks about harmless after hour drinking that kinda got out of hand. Mothimor usually gets very whiny and emotional when too drunk and poor Tix who is easily affected by other peoples mood, just gets bombarded. Mothimor is probably going to try and up for it in the morning.))

Pancakes and Bacon

For Morgane’s birthday. A little Captain Cobra Swan.

Historically speaking, Henry and Killian had a terrible record of keeping secrets. (Teenage boys are not known for their stealth, even Henry.) And so when Emma wakes up one precious morning, completely unaware of the mayhem ensuing in her kitchen, she’s surprised to realize she hadn’t seen this coming.

A crash sounds downstairs and she immediately hurries out of bed in her long t-shirt, rushing down the stairs to make sure everything is all right.  She can smell the syrup and butter long before she reaches the kitchen. And yet, the sight that greets her is, needless to say, utter chaos. Pancake mix covers bits of the wall and counter, flour dusted across every available surface, eggs sat on plates with bacon, the grease still sizzling in the dark pan on the stovetop.

At least nothing’s burning.

And then there’re her boys.

Henry had noticed her come downstairs, a sheepish smile stretching across his face even with the patches of batter on his cheeks, hanging in his hair. His flannel pajamas were nearly white, small grease stains the only thing interrupting the blanket of flour on him. He elbows Killian quickly, who turns and smiles.

“Good morning, Swan.”

Emma simply folds her arms across her chest, hip jutting out, and raises an eyebrow in his direction. Even with the frustration she’s feeling at the mess, there’s a little warmth eating away at it. They did this for her, that much is obvious.

Henry shuffles awkwardly and Killian, in his sweatpants and ripped t-shirt, steps in front of the boy. He’s all charm, as usual, placing the pan he’d been holding back on the stove and coming to place a soft kiss on her hair.

“We were making you breakfast. Admittedly, it may have gotten a bit out of hand.”

“Happy birthday, Mom.” Henry grins as he catches her eye, bright and optimistic.

She eyes them both before heaving an exasperated sigh and smiling. They’d clean up later, but for now she’s just thankful they didn’t burn the house to the ground.

“Alright, well what did you guys make?”

Her son grabs the pan Killian had put down and flips the contents onto the plate in the middle of the island, a stack of golden pancakes with blueberries melting into the surroundings covered in syrup and butter.

“We got pancakes and eggs and bacon. Oh!” Henry runs to the cupboard and takes out a small box wrapped in twine, the kind you might find in a bakery. He hands it to his mother excitedly.

Emma puts the box on the counter, pulling the string and swallowing as the lid and walls fall away. She can’t breathe for a moment, her world zeroing in on that box.

A single vanilla cupcake, white cream swirling up with a single blue star-shaped candle sticking out of it, sits on the counter in front of her. Killian leans over and lights it with a match, eyes soft as they look into hers.

All she can think of is a little boy at her font door, a lonely apartment, and no one to celebrate with her.

“Happy birthday, Emma.”

Her eyes sting, but still she smiles, kisses them each on the cheek, and blows out the candle.

There’s no need to make a wish. All of hers have already come true.


this kind of morning