A/N: Okay, I yield. I’ve officially jumped on the YOI bandwagon. And this isn’t a prompt, (I know, shut up), but I couldn’t get it out of my messed up brain after episode 7…so here you go.
P.S. This doesn’t necessarily mean I officially write for the fandom.
Yuuri could hear his heartbeat thudding violently in his ears. Blood rushing like a surging river throughout his veins.
Here he was, finally on the verge of a breakthrough…and he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t go out there and make a fool of himself. He couldn’t go out on the ice and disappoint the only person who had ever believed in his ability to achieve something other than obscure mediocrity.
Already, his limbs had started to go numb, rendering them utterly useless.
He could hear the pulsating thrum of whoops and chants and cheers from the stadium outside, all of them eager to watch him struggle and ultimately fail.
Viktor’s hand rested lightly against the small of his back, fingers occasionally rubbing circles over his warm-up jacket as he stared at the screen. The gesture was involuntary, Yuuri knew, but it didn’t help. If anything, the contact encouraged his anxiety, propelled his misgivings into a whirlwind of panic. He wasn’t ready. He needed more practice. He would never be ready…
A wave of lightheadedness abruptly caught him off guard, causing Yuuri to sway back into Viktor’s steadying hand. He hadn’t realized how hard it had become to draw a breath. He felt his stomach constrict and his frantic heart rate flutter. Chilly sweat broke out over his forehead and upper lip - he licked apprehensively, swallowing against a surge of nausea.
“I can’t do it,” he muttered, chin lolling against his chest. He felt dangerously close to passing out. “I can’t…”
“What is this?”
Viktor’s soft accent sounded incredibly distant, floating over the horizon of unattainable dreams.
“Yuuri, you’re trembling,” he noted, tucking Yuuri’s jacket more securely around his shoulders. “Focus on your breathing exercises.”
At the moment, Viktor’s coaching wasn’t especially helpful, considering Yuuri was only capable of shallow, hitching little swallows of air.
“Viktor, I can’t do this,” Yuuri repeated, voice barely more than a whisper. He felt Viktor’s hand stiffen against his back.
“Of course you can!” Viktor reassured with a firm pat. Yuuri’s nervousness wasn’t something he was accustomed to dealing with in such a concentrated form.
A bubble of air careened up Yuuri’s throat, bringing with it a splash of his breakfast. Yuuri lurched over his lap, gulping thickly as he struggled to swallow down the warm sludge.
“I, uh…” Yuuri gagged in his mouth, feeling all of the nervous energy that had been building up over the past four hours swirling like a maelstrom in his stomach with no place to go.
“Yuuri, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Yuuri tried to breathe, tried to quiet his mind and calm down. But as he watched his competitor land his final set and the crowd went apeshit, Yuuri felt his heart drop into his toes and his meager stomach contents crawl up into his throat.
He clamped a hand over his mouth, releasing a sharp belch as his eyes widened with panic.
Viktor’s hand had vacated his back as his coach knelt in front of him, concerned eyes searching his face as his hands gripped Yuuri’s thighs.
“I think…I’m gonna be sick,” Yuuri gulped, suppressing an aborted gag.
“Okay,” Viktor’s eyes narrowed with worry, darting around in an uncharacteristically desperate search for help. “Can you make it to the bathroom?”
Yuuri’s response was cut off by a particularly violent retch and all he managed was a minute shake of his head. Dizziness overwhelmed him and he began sinking off the bench towards the floor, both hands pressed firmly over his mouth.
Viktor caught him under his arms, easing him down as the younger boy whimpered into his palm.
“Hold on,” Viktor begged as he stood up and tore across the room.
A moment later, Yuuri felt something being positioned in his lap and Viktor’s hand bracing his shoulder.
Yuuri released his mouth in favor of gripping the small trashcan, burping wetly as strings of saliva dripped into the container.
“You’re all right,” Viktor soothed, sounding incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather have been anywhere else. Even his slow arcs down Yuuri’s back seemed hesitantly uncertain.
Yuuri’s ears buzzed as he attempted to swallow, trying his best to delay the inevitable even as his stomach gave a warning lurch.
The humiliation was unbearable.
Yuuri belched again, trapped air rolling out in a long, gurgling heave. He felt his abdominal muscles contract, forcing a projectile flood of hot liquid up his throat.
He picked up the trashcan and buried his head in the plastic bag as a wave of curdled sick poured out of him, splattering the inside with a hollow thunk.
“Shit,” he heard Viktor murmur. His coach’s hand moved up to cup the back of his neck, holding him steady as he convulsed.
Yuuri didn’t have a chance to inhale before another choking surge of vomit erupted from his mouth, splashing violently into the mess he’d already made.
Viktor’s hands never abandoned him throughout the bout of sickness, slowly easing him through the lingering spasms as the attack gradually tapered off, leaving Yuuri a panting, sniveling wreck.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri gasped, eyes clenching shut as tears began flowing unchecked down his flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry you picked me.”
Viktor was silent for a moment, his hand having stilled against the small of Yuuri’s back, thumb rubbing absently as he watched the younger boy struggle through his overwhelming emotions.
“Stop saying that,” Viktor ordered, fingers reaching to tilt Yuri’s chin up. They were so close Viktor’s nose nearly brushed Yuuri’s forehead.
“I have never been sorry I picked you.”
Yuri hiccuped, wet eyes blinking up at his coach in disbelief.
“Not once,” Viktor continued with a gentle smile. “You are amazing, Yuuri. I want you to know and accept that.”
Yuuri sniffled, allowing himself to wallow a second longer in his moment of weakness as he dropped his forehead against Viktor’s shoulder.
“There are very few who can do what you do. And even fewer who could do it so beautifully.”
“Be proud of that,” Viktor said, aggressively gripping Yuuri’s face with both hands.
Yuuri heard the announcer rambling through his introduction and felt his next breath catch in his throat as his eyes strayed towards the screen.
“Shh, no,” Viktor jerked Yuuri’s head back, his gaze frightfully intense. “Don’t worry about them. I am proud of you. I know you can do this.”
Yuuri inhaled a deep breath, exhaled slowly through his nose and focused on Viktor’s unwavering eyes.
His heartbeat continued to falter, his stomach continued to churn, he still felt weak, overwhelmed with the childish urge to run away…
When I was freaking out over Yoonmin’s rap performance, Midnight kindly offered to rp which somehow translated from Fluff to Smut (Sangria lied to me guys)not that I mind it
THANK YOU WIFEY FOR DOING THIS AND WRECKING ME WITH YOUR MAD SMUT SKILLS
I WILL REPAY THE FAVOUR WITH A KENHOBI FIC
OKAY WUT YESSI MEAN, NOOOOOOOO
Yoongi: Hand coming to rest lightly on the doorknob, I froze, before a frown overcame my lips. I heard something that sounded like someone was choking, and my eyebrows furrowed in concern.
What was happening in there? Were you okay?
Your scream of ‘YAH! YOONGI!!!’ had me wasting no more time, I slammed open the door, fists out and ready to attack whoever or whatever it was that was threatening you.
But then my gaze came to rest on your laptop screen…and I froze.
You: I got up from my chair and let out a small scream when I saw you behind me. I quickly shut my laptop and stopped my coughing the best I could.
“Y-Yah!! What’re you doing home so late? I thought you’d sleep at the dorms or something? Is everything okay jagiya?” I ask, my voice laced with concern and of course, my cheeks flushing red seeing you after so long.
Yoongi: I couldn’t focus on your words though, my mind fixed firmly on the previously open laptop. I could have sworn…?
But no, that was impossible. Looking at your reddening cheeks, though, the possibility snuck back to me, and I couldn’t help my growing smile.
“Jagi…were you watching ME on the screen?” I asked, smirking inwardly at your flustered expression.
don’t you just ever get really embarrassed when you get the feels in public like say you are in some store and you see some merch or a song from your fav band comes on and you have like a little spasm attack in the middle of the store and some people think you are possessed or something like this is the reason I don’t leave my room mom
miles + lola, zig + maya, sean vs zig, saad or miles
miles + lola - I liked them platonically. I can understand why people liked them romantically together, but it was always Tristan for Miles and a plot device for another abortion storyline, which they haven’t done since Manny. It was more about comforting each other during hard times than a true love type of thing. So yeah, I really liked their friendship before they hooked up and ruined that because they never spoke to each other again after that.
zig + maya - these two… they were my biggest Degrassi OTP of all time. I waited and waited and waited for these idiots to finally get together and when they finally did, I literally had a spasm attack because I was THAT overjoyed. I hated what happened to them in NC S1 because they were no longer that fluffy ship in 14B, but I really loved the ending they got. Because it wasn’t rushed or anything, and it just fits them… just driving off to Cali together, away from the drama of the Degrassi halls :P Finally FREE.
sean vs zig - I think Sean would win because he deafened a guy in one ear… but Zig is tough sometimes, too… not always because Saad knocked him over with one punch (which I was surprised about)
saad or miles - Ughhh… IDK. Saad has definitely become one of my favs and deserves the spot of male lead next season! But Miles definitely grew on me throughout the show. I remembered when I hated his guts in S13, while everyone loved him.
Well, I made one thing that forces people to rage, might as well keep up the theme, right? The Riastrad was inspired by the legend of Cuchulain, the Irish hero.
The Riastrad is a +2 Keen Bastard Sword with an additional effect. Upon scoring a critical hit, the Riastrad forces the wielder to successfully make a will save. The save begins at DC20 and goes up by 5 each time a critical hit is scored by the wielder during that combat.
If the wielder of Riastrad fails the will save, they enter a “War Spasm.” This is similar to the barbarian rage ability, however the victim of the spasm will attack any nearby creature, friend or foe. The rage lasts for 1d8+ the wielder’s CON modifier rounds. When the rage ends, the wielder of Riastrad becomes exhausted, and will remain so until they take an 8 hour rest.
She called out for one last desperate cry, thinking maybe he’d turn around, and say something, anything to let her know he’d stay.
But she waited, and his broad shoulders still stayed squared to her, with his back ridged. She could see the way his fist clenched and unclenched, as though there was still frustration pent up inside him and it couldn’t find a way out.
Say something. Anything! She encouraged him with her thoughts when her body started to spasm. The anxiety attacks always started in her arms, and worked its way inside until it felt hard to breath.
Naruto took in a sharp in take of air, letting it out slowly and his whole body relaxed with it. “You don’t need me,” he said, and he might as well have hit her.
She was on him then, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, clinging to that last bit of him, that last bit of love she knew was there. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking his shirt as she struggled to speak words that wouldn’t come out of her quivering lips.
“I do need you!” Hinata shouted into his back, the full force of her words muffled in his shirt.
She wanted to scream, yell, punch, and grab him, and if that made him stay then she’d honestly do it. But she could sense his movement; the way his body pulled from her slightly, the way his feet skimmed on the floor and how his shaking hands grabbed hers with hesitation in their movements to pull her away.
Again he spoke, making her whimper with every word. “I’m just–I’m no good.” The self doubt in his tone squeezed her heart like a vice.
Shaking her head she’d hold on tighter determined to hold him together. “You’re plenty good.”
He laughed, mocking her. “I get in trouble with the cops, I steal, I vandalize, and I’ve hurt people. What if I hurt you, Hinata?” He finally turned around to look at her, and there was sadness she had never known trapped in those sky blue eyes. He was hurting.
Taking a tentative step closer she raised her hand, cupping his bristly cheek, the texture feeling weird on her skin but it was so like him not to shave properly that she almost laughed. Instead she poured all of her kindness into that touch, making it warm and comforting. She could have sworn she saw his face slacken a bit, giving into her, yet his eyes remained cold.
“You can change.”
“And if I can’t?”
“I’ll vandalize things with you,” she couldn’t help but laugh now.
He didn’t find it funny because he was frowning, his eyebrows knitting together while the opposite hand to hers came up, gripping hold of her wrist firmly, but not trying to hurt her. “Don’t say that, it’s not funny,” he said, his words serious.
Hinata’s eyes softened and she took another step forward, closing the distance completely. “I know. But Naruto, you can change, you have been. I want to help you do it. But you have to let me.” Now she was feeling calmer, more confident in her choice of words, and less concerned with the fact that he had been about to leave her. She truly wanted to help him, but first she needed to let him in, to let her explore the sides of him he kept hidden.
Slowly he breathed out, giving into her soft nature, and looking into those determined pale eyes. “Okay,” he said, and he had never been so sure of something in his entire life until right now.
A/N: A bit longer, but yeah. Kind of like an bad boy good girl au. :]
*Lucifer appears* “Oh Hello Sherlly!” “Lucifer I need a favor.” “Hmm Not my division.” *Lucifer disappears* *Crowley appears* “What can I do for you?” “I need a way I can… Fake my death.” “Hmm… Here take this. Call it and set up a time and make sure to say the month year and date. You’d surely like that mad man, and his blue box.” *Crowley Hands him a slip of paper* “Mm thanks.” “What about my payment?” “How about I won’t tell the two rather tall, blundering idiots who are about to barge through the door, that you were here.” *Crowley’s face somewhat contorts* “Bollocks, they followed ” *Crowley disappears* *John is holding back a spasm attack* *Sam and Dean bust through the doors* “DANGIT Sammy! We missed him!”
You were at Magcon, for the second time. You came with your boyfriend, Shawn. However, none of the fans knew you two were dating. You felt girls pushing through you as they cut you in line. You didn’t care though. You smile and continue your place in line. You look over to the boys who looked busy. You exchanged looks with Shawn whenever he finished signing something. You’d smile at him as he winked back.
“Oh my god, Shawn just winked at me” you’d hear someone scream from behind you. You laugh to yourself and shake your head. The girls previously lost their place in line from having a spasm attack.
“You look really familiar?” someone asked you. You turn around seeing a girl around your age. She had blonde hair just like yours, but with brown eyes. You felt a loud boom inside your stomach. You played it cool.
“I’m Carly.” You introduce yourself. The girl ponders in thought. “Have I seen you in any pictures?” she says wiggling her eyebrows. You shrug your shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t recognize you. “Oh well, you’re really pretty though.” She laughs before running off. You felt your forehead grow a small sweat.
You finally arrive to one of the tables. You pass your phone case over to Nash. “Hey Carly.” He smirks at you. “Eh-hem.” You snap back. “Oh, shit. I mean hello…friendly-looking fan of mine.” Nash panics. You roll your eyes and laugh as he signs your case. “I’ll see ya later.” He says as you continue on. You finally reach over to Shawn’s. “Hey babe.” He whispers into your ear as he pulls you into a hug. “Hi Shawn.” You pass him your case as he takes off the cap of the Sharpie. “What’s your name again?” he looks up. “Shut up.” You laugh as he continues to chuckle. “I’ll see you later?” you look up at him. You start to head back to the other table until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist. “Wait.” Shawn says.
You look up at him confused. “We need a picture!” he says. You knew you were taking a long time. Girls’ were being skeptical, giving you dirty looks. The security guards would normally push along girls for taking so long, but they knew you were with the boys.
“I guess so.” You smile to Shawn who gave your phone over to Nash. “Say Puma!” he says. You and Shawn never really said puma as much as the other boys. Shawn wrapped his big arms around your waist for the pictures. He held you closely and started to fumble with your sweater.
“Puma.” You say with no expression as you watch the flash go off. “Oh you two are so adorbz.” Nash says in his best girl voice. As Nash walked forwards to give your phone back, Shawn gripped his hold around you even tighter. “Ow, what are you…” you start to say until you felt him push you forward. You made a small shrieking sound as you fell to the floor. He fell besides you, starting to burst out laughing. “Shit.” He laughs as his face becomes all red. “Did you just drop me?” you say in between breaths. Shawn nods his head as he helps you up from the ground. Both of your’ faces were red. You look over at Nash who was listening to the fans’ comments. “She’s so lucky.”
“Did Shawn just drop her?”
“She wins at life.”
You and Shawn laugh to yourselves knowing these girls had no idea what was going on. “Do you even lift?” Nash taunts Shawn. “My hands slipped.” Shawn says putting his hands in his pocket. “Mhmm…” Nash chuckles as he walks back to his table.