#I’m trying so hard not to keyboard smash my way through the day god I love fantasy Steddie

[corrodedcoughin]

Fantasy au where a group of travelers are escaping the kingdom of Hawkins. They hear of a hidden city - rumoured to keep all outcasts safe from the king of Hawkins’ tyrannical rule, under the protection of a guild of powerful mages and warriors.

They’re given a link, a super secret contact to meet in an inn the town over that will help them escape and find said city.

They come face to face, Strider in fellowship of the ring - style, with Eddie the Banished - gaze sharp and intimidating. They’ve heard the rumours- Hawkins runs rampant with stories of his alleged crimes - namely involving the missing crown prince. Every layman has their version, but it all chalks up to the same fallen Hero and great Villain story.

It’s clear that he is skeptical and very protective of who he brings with him into the city, but the owners of the inn - a gentle lady by the name of Joyce and her equally intimidating husband, Hopper, vouch for them.

It takes some time to get there, they don’t take a direct route to avoid ambushes and the like.

Eddie neither confirms nor denies the stories, in fact he stokes the flames and plays it up - they act as additional protection and armor, an air of “don’t fuck with us.”

Through the bravado and exaggerated stories, they start to learn bits and pieces about Eddie along the way - things that don’t add up. He wears lots of jewellery - he jingles like a cat with a bell when he struts - but one of the party points out that a lot of them look like protection charms, each handmade, possibly by children judging by the make.

He flirts like nobody’s business, but it never goes past that. They had to flee a tavern one time when Eddie blows up over a patron who couldn’t take a “no” a few times too many.

Among his jewellery, Eddie wears a lot of rings. Stacks of silver, gaudy and eccentric, though they spend enough time traveling together to start noticing the sole gold band on his left ring finger.

They do get ambushed once - but manage to fight it off mostly unscathed. Eddie plays it off as usual, but one of them notices him twisting said gold band, brow pinched at night when no one is looking.

He’s also surprisingly sweet - he’s always nice to the kids he encounters, always treats the waitstaff at taverns and shops with respect, he’s protective over the younger members of the travel party when they encounter someone particularly rowdy. They also notice how he picks up little things along the way - snack cakes, hand carved die. “Little gifts,” he tells one of them, with a lopsided grin.

Maybe Eddie the Banished isn’t the villain of this story after all.

When they reach the city - it’s relief - for once in their lives the air tastes like freedom. A bunch of people are there to welcome them and show them around, but mainly they’re there for Eddie. He’s nearly swallowed by a swarm of children, and catches his arms around a girl with mousey brown, shaggy hair (“Birdie” they hear him call her - they think she’s his betrothed for a hot second) before the small sea of people part, and the group of travelers still.

Because at the center of the crowd, though a few years older and in looser, more comfortable clothing than they’ve ever seen him in before, is Crown Prince Steve Harrington.

And before they can think to do anything, Eddie is dropping all of his weapons, bravado completely dropping, face blown open with relief. Then he’s running, and wrapping the other man so tightly in an embrace that they can’t tell which limb belongs to who. They watch them sway gently in the middle of the city square.

“I kept my promise. I came back to you,” they hear Eddie murmur with such reverence, foreheads touching, hands cupping the other man’s face with such gentleness -

And then they’re being ushered away towards the baths, “Birdie” talking a mile a minute about how they must be tired and how they should give the lovebirds a second.

And maybe the rumours and stories were wrong. Maybe it’s a story about freedom and love instead.

Anon…you don’t underSTAND I’ve been craving a fantasy book for so long and this is exactly what I NEED. please I am begging at your table for any scraps you care to share PLEASE 🙏

#I’m trying to be calm I really am I swear #I’m trying so hard not to keyboard smash my way through the day god I love fantasy Steddie #this is so warm and high adventure!!!! #the reveal at the end is so perfect I could live in this for DAYS #thank you for sending it to me! #if you decide to write more I’d love to read any kind of fleshed out version #but if this is everything then I’m delighted you graced my inbox with it because I am holding it close and never letting go #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ask #anon #thank you anon I’m sorry I have nothing to add but I don’t think you need me to add anything or probably wanted me to add anything #I’m here to just share your story and happily so

[mellohidisc]

╰ ☆ ╮𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 - discord au ✰⋆

1.2k 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 | 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: "𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘮." // "𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳."

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖘: 5/5 𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 || 𝘺/𝘯 & 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

I plopped my bag on my unmade and definitely in need of a wash bedsheets. I looked down on it, scrunching my nose seeing blemish marks upon my white sheets. Don’t ask me what it is, maybe dirt? Marker? Maybe the last drops of a monster energy drink that I chucked across my room into the garbage can. I’m not too sure what exactly it is to be quite honest. I’ve been so busy and tired, and the state of my bedroom defiantly showed it. University is hard, especially when it isn’t your only responsibility. With all the homework, my job and trying to keep my long-distance relationship above water it is especially hard.

But for once, the world was on my side. It was the weekend, I didnt have work and nothing due soon for school. I could get a rest, fucking finally. I walked my self over to my desk, and sat down in the chair. Unlike George and his streamer friends with these super expensive duel monitor and pc set up bullshit, I just had my laptop, and fuck Dream for making fun of me for it. I unfolded it, pressing the power on button. I watched as it slowly booted up.

Okay, maybe Dream is right but still fuck him.

I refuse to give that man the satisfaction of saying "I told you so." After waiting for a few to let it boot up all the way, I clicked through onto discord.

sex havers and y/n.

fucking idiots, all five of them.

looking over to the voice channels i saw them all in vc 2. I pondered, and questioned if I was mentally stable enough to listen to karl and quackity scream into my ear. I knew the answer was no but...oh, my finger slipped.

"y/n!" karl yelped with excitement. I felt a second wind rip through my body. that was the effect these boys had on you, if you think you're tired you're actually not.

"hi george." i said brightly, knowing it would offend karl greatly.

"hi hun." he said shortly, taking me off guard. i could hear him slamming on his keyboard.

"what are you playing?" i asked, going to click on his discord profile to find out.

"phasmaphobia, come save me from karl. he's been screaming the whole time in the lobby."

"hell no babe, you're on your own im sorry."

"for once, i agree with them." dream chimed in, making me roll my eyes and make a fake gagging noise at him.

dream has one of the kindest hearts i know of. we just fucked around with each other, but we could never seriously hate each other. he was like a brother to me, and no not one of those weird fucked up "i have a crush on my boyfriends best friend" things, but just a genuine great friend.

my thoughts we're interrupted by a loud scream from sapnap, and quackity and karl yelling run. I winced, smashing the volume down button on my laptop.

"alright nope! no no im done! i am closing the game." george said frantically, you laughed as you watched his discord status change.

"awe did the ghostie boy scare you?" i tease gently, testing the waters. with george sometimes, i could never tell when the teasing would be too much.

before he could anwser, i saw karls face appear on my computer screen making me giggle. he had the camera zoomed all the way into his face, staring dead into the camera.

"george..." he growled lowly, making you laugh.

"yes karl?" george asked innocently.

"SCREW YOU!"

the whole call bursted into laughter, i watched my screen go from only karl to karl and quackity.

oh dear god...

anytime alex has his camera on we knew we were in for it.

i watched quackity as he grabbed a stuffed pillow from behind him, and a pair of scissors off his desk.

"george listen- listen to me. this pillow-" he waved it in front of the camera.

"this is you. now this is a pair of scissors." he proceeded to wave them in front of the camera also.

"now george, i want you to turn your camera on for me."

george groaned in protest.

"why-"

"SHUT UP AND DO IT!" quackity yelled, i whined at him to shut the hell up.

I watched the screen grow again into three cameras on, butterflies filling my stomach as I saw george's smile. sometimes it just feels so surreal to me, how he gave me the time of the day really. when I first meet him he didn't seem like the type to date anyone, and if he did he would have been the type to forget he was dating someone and not answer for days.

yet he proved me wrong.

being with george has been one of the best relationships i've been in. he was kind and caring, and yeah he had a hard times being comforting but he showed his compassion in other ways. whether it be a meme he made himself to make me laugh, or a something as small as sending me a cat video link.

"y/n! turn on your camera." sapnap demanded, making you frown your brows.

"what! why? since when did you have yours on sap?"

"well if you weren't day dreaming ab mr gog mister over here you would have saw me put it on."

I rolled your eyes. I scanned my bedroom and made a face. It is a fucking mess in here.

"okay but dream doesn't have his on." i point out, knowing that wasn't going to help me.

"yeah thats because its dream." karl retorted.

"turn it on."

"turn it on."

"turn it on."

The four of them stared to chant, as dream laughed in the background.

"I fucking hate you guys." I groaned, hitting the camera button on discord.

Quackity placed the bear and scissors down, standing up out of his seat to lean closer to the computer screen.

"holy shit y/n! did a hurricane come through your room or something?" he laughed, half jokingly.

the boys knew they couldn't genuinely say shit, after all they are boys.

"oh fuck off. i would love to see your bedroom."

"i guess this makes me the organized one in the relationship." george says proudly, gleaming with joy.

the boys and i laughed at him, watching his mouth slowly open wide and a look of disbelief spreading across his face.

"what! why are you laughing?"

"george, you and i both know you are the least organized person in the world." dream told him.

i giggled watching georges reactions to their comments. his mannerisms were apart of his humor, the hand gestures and the facial expressions.

"no okay no guys please. listen-"

"guys pleaseeee" sapnap whinned mockingly, sending us all into laughter.

"screw off! babe tell them how organized i am!" he yelled through a laugh.

my eyes widened, fuck. you tried quickly to think of a lie to make him look stupid but good at the same time.

"last night he ate his fruit loops by color." i said, nodding trying to sell it.

"HES FUCKING COLOR BLIND YOU LIAR!" dream yelled loudly.

i covered my mouth from laughing so hard. holy shit. thank god i dont have anything to do tomorrow its going to be a long night.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fic #george x reader #georgenotfound x reader #geroge fanfic #george fluff #george imagines #george x y/n #mcyt fluff #mcyt imagine #feral boys fanfic

[lokislittlesigyn]

Five Minutes - Loki x Reader [Oneshot] Part 3 of Sigyn’s Angst-to-Fluff Drabbles

Inspired by Cozy’s Fluff-to-Angst Fun and Games!

Pairing: Loki / gender neutral reader

Warnings: Alcohol mention. No active drinking, but a character is tipsy/drunk. Reader is a bit overworked from their job.

Author’s Note: Short(ish), sweet, and pure fluff. A hopefully welcome relief from the last fic I shared, too. :’D

@electroma89:

"please look at me, please just focus on me" for the Angst turned to fluff prompts 🥺❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of soft footsteps thudded behind you, your eyes glancing up from your work. Arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you close. Your back squished into the soft sofa, your head now resting against the clavicle of - well, it could only be one person, really.

You smiled despite yourself. “Loki. You’re drunk.”

“‘M not…. ‘M lonely…” His nose nudged your cheek.

“You have been harassing me for the past half hour.” Your hand found his cheek, pushing gently. “I’m busy, honey-”

“Stop being busy, then.” 

The god - though, reduced to a self-described very full god - huffed warm breath against your face. You could smell the alcohol on it, along with a twinge of sweetness. What had he gotten into?

It wasn’t particularly odd for Loki to enjoy a few drinks. In fact he often sipped a delicious red wine as he relaxed after a long day, with a book for company. You might even join him. On social evenings, he’d enjoy a martini, perhaps two if the night called for it. Sometimes, he’d get a little buzzed. Perhaps a flushed face, a suggestive joke, a particularly flirtatious wink. But tonight - tonight he was simply impossible. 

He must’ve drank an entire liquor store. He was practically bouncing off the walls for hours. You’d never heard such karaoke - and worse? He was actually a good singer. 

“Why were you holding out on me last Friday, huh?” You had asked as you finished cleaning the kitchen with him. The god grinned, and laughed a bright, cheery laugh. Even though you’d eaten dinner alone - Loki had been out, as you’d had to work all day alone - he still stopped to help you with the chores. Albeit while remarking on how “positively radiant” you looked. Then again, despite being distracted, he was still helping.

“Well, I wasn’t in the mood then, love! Mood, yes - see, I’m in it now.” He tilted a plate your way, “Very much so. In the mood, that is. Why don’t you sing with me?”

“I’m busy,” You grabbed the plate, setting it on the appropriate stack. “I have to work.”

His face had fallen a bit at your response, but he ran after you, seemingly unperturbed, as you had walked to your workspace. Your apartment wasn’t very big, but it was home. Even though your office was often the couch, it worked, and it was familiar. Comfortable.

At least, when very full gods weren’t breathing down your neck.

Like one was now. 

He was still leaning over the back of the couch, hands caressing your sides as you desperately tried to focus on your laptop screen. His lips kissed your temple, then whispered their way to your cheek. The sweet breath ghosting across your face made your nose scrunch, and you bit your lip, trying desperately to swallow the laughter bubbling up in your throat. If you let slip even one giggle, it was all over. There’d be no stopping him.

“Please?” Loki begged. 

“I am busy.” You said again, with a little more force. 

He quickly grew more desperate. “Oh, can’t it wait? I’ve been waiting to see you all week…” His head lowered, now against your shoulder. He nuzzled it, tickling the skin there with his soft breath.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

“Loki,” You shuddered a little, “You know it can’t. My boss doesn’t care about weekends, she cares about results. So I work, or next week will be even more miserable than this week..”

“But I don’t want you to work.” His voice was almost a whine, almost a growl. You steadied another shudder. “Please look at me, please just focus on me.”

“Just give me a few minutes, okay? Five minutes.”

Loki slid away from you with a low, annoyed groan. “Fine. Five minutes.” He stood back, tapping his fingers on the back of the couch. Rocking on his feet. Wait- was he counting under his breath?

You couldn’t keep your lips from turning up in a smile. Quickly, you finished this newest assignment - it had been tedious, but you were so close, you could practically feel the relief of finally defeating the mountain of responsibilities that bore down on you Monday morning.

The clickety-clack of your fingertips against the keyboard mimicked that of Loki’s against the back of the couch, which had mysteriously neared your shoulders. You felt them, now, soft taps against the caps of your shoulders - not hard enough to drum, and in fact rather soothing. You had always loved his hands.

Wait. No. Focus! You’re almost there!

“Loki,” you scolded under your breath, squinting down at the laptop screen. The god retreated with a huff.

… But only for a moment.

“Five minutes,” you reminded him, typing up an email. Here’s the file you asked for… Please see attached…

“It’s been three and a half, surely I can indulge a little?” 

“Five. Minutes.”

Loki sneered. He must have knelt behind you, because you then felt his head settle next to yours, the most dramatic, exasperated sigh escaping his lips. Then his counting continued, you heard it clearer now. Four thirty-five. Four thirty-six.

You typed up another: the final email. Quickly as you could, you smashed the keys, attached the files, sped through the necessary salutations-

“Five minutes!” Loki leapt to his feet, racing around in front of you. You gasped and felt yourself be lifted by a pair of strong, sturdy arms, a kiss placed squarely on your lips. Your laptop, still on the couch, was mercifully safe. Of course Loki had been careful, even in this state. “My love, I can finally hold you!” He spun you in place, chuckling as he did.

Now you couldn’t help but laugh. Giggles erupted from your mouth while a million tiny kisses showered your face, in between mutters of “Oh, my beautiful,” and something in Asgardian you couldn’t quite make out.

“W-Wait- Wait, just a minute..”

Loki groaned. “No. No more waiting. Please! I’ve waited all week, I’ve done exactly as I should- You’ve finished, haven’t you?” He sighed, curls falling in front of his face. He set you on your feet and wiped them back.

“One more thing.” You leaned over, clicking “send” on the email, then closed your laptop. “Done.”

Loki beamed. “Come to me, my darling has, from o’er field and dale,” His hearty voice rang out, and he took your hands, pulling your arms, one after the other, and moving his hips ever so slightly.

“Dancing? We’re dancing now? Wait- Is that poetry? What is that?” You giggled.

Loki merely grinned. “Through struggle and strife, through shadow and dark, my life, my heart, return - prevail!” He placed a hand over his chest. “In place of sadness, feel I glee; my heart, it sings, my soul, it shines!” His voice turned soft, and his other hand cupped your cheek, his eyes meeting yours. “Joy floods through me, like tide through sea, for this I know: you are mine.”

“And…” He swallowed. You stared into his eyes, the softest smile on your lips. 

“And I am never letting you go again!”

You burst into laughter at his sudden change of tone, felt yourself be lifted again, and spun, then fell onto the couch with a soft, cushioned landing. You settled onto Loki’s chest, which seemed to be what he wanted - he held you close, running his hands up and down your back, kissing your hair. 

“I love you so, my darling.”

“I love you too,” You giggled, then sighed with relief at the closeness. “So much.” 

#loki #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki fanfic #angst to fluff drabbles

[simonsrosebud]

How did Dalton react when he saw the famous Kathy interview with Niel Kev and Riko? I’d like to see how he reacted to that and all the post game interviews (especially the iconic Kevin one where he “has never gone skiing before”). I think Dalton must have come across one interview and just went down the rabbit hole. Maybe even Neil’s roasts?? Sorry this is a looong ask post

no i LOVE this!!

he knows he shouldn’t, not unless kevin says it’s okay, but dalton googles kevin after he leaves maryland to go back to south carolina.

it's not like he’s going to find anything bad.  and plus, he loves kevin.  and kevin loves him.  he’d just told him this week for the first time.

the top result is a buzzed article titled “kevin day had a near photoshoot with fans in times square, and we’re definitely jealous”.  below it are the most recent things like him coming out, and videos of him playing.

dalton refines his search.  specifically to last spring and fall.  his first year stepping onto the foxhole court as a player.

the first thing to come up is an interview with kathy ferdinand, neil josten, and riko moriyama.

dalton knows enough about riko moriyama for it to make his blood boil.

he also doesn’t realize that the brunette in the cover photo for the video is neil until he watches him get introduced to the stage.  he’s known from the second he saw neil that he’d been through some tough shit, but he didn’t realize it was all from last year.  the neil in the interview is clean.

also, he’s gawking over neil by the end of the interview.  he has to rewatch it to fully get it all.  kevin’s talked about neil and his attitude, and dalton’s experienced it maybe once, but holy shit he tore riko moriyama to shreds.

the only reason he isn’t laughing at how badass it is is because he can see how traumatized kevin looks.  if he hadn’t known him, he wouldn’t have noticed, but dalton knows his body language by now.  seeing him truly terrified with his abuser right there makes dalton want to wrap his arms around him.  he wishes he wasn’t already back in south carolina.

he runs his hands over his face and reruns neil’s words in his head.

“i don’t think you’re telling Kevin to sit out because of his health. i think you know this season is going to be a disaster for your reputation. you and kevin have always played in each other’s shadows. you’ve always been a pair. now you have to face each other on the court as rivals for the first time, and people are finally going to know which one of you is better. they’re going to know how premature this was. i think you’re scared.”

it gives him more insight on kevin and riko’s relationship, and while he wishes he never had to see it recorded, he’s glad he does.  with the way neil’s talking, it seems like he’d known all about it, too.  or else he wouldn’t openly be hating on riko the way he was.

after that, and after calming himself down from literally seeing kevin’s abuser and thanking god that he’s dead, he continues on.  the majority of the other videos are from press duty after games, and he clicks on a reoccurring one titled “KEVIN DAY NEVER BEEN SKIING???”  dalton knows this, and he also knows that the public thought that he’d broken his hand in a skiing accident, so he’s curious enough to click on it.

he gasps so hard.  it’s just such a blunt statement that so obviously dumbfounded all of the press trying to interview them.

he keeps going.

and they’re never-ending

“every time kevin day yells to neil josten in french”

or “29 times andrew minyard comes up behind kevin day but just stares into the camera”

“kevin day being approached by fans”

“kevin day and riko moriyama speaking japanese”  he doesn’t watch that one.

“compilation of neil josten being a pain in kevin day’s ass”  that one’s twenty-eight minutes long.

“kevin day looking stressed every time neil speaks”

“kevin day yelling neil’s name, except every time he does the pitch gets higher”

“kevin day’s fist pump every time they win a game”

“i ran into kevin day every time i went to eden’s nightclub last fall and had the same conversation about how to say croissant’s every time”  there’s videos from each time, some with the phone camera unknowingly recording him, some with the view of their chins from below, and some of the floor as if she “wasn’t recording”.  he doesn’t seem to remember her from before in any of the videos.  at the end there’s 7 pictures of them, with the same pose, all from different nights.  drunk kevin is funny.

dalton wishes he could see it, but he knocks that thought right out because he’s proud of kevin for being sober.

“speaking french with kevin day at the mall: AWKWARD”  that one is from this summer with subtitles at the bottom.  the girl goes up to him, and he doesn’t seem to see her coming until she’s in front of him.  “bonjour!”  kevin says, “oh, hello.”

when she continues in french to ask how his day is he makes the switch.  “do you speak english?”  “yes, i just knew you spoke french, sorry”  “oh… it’s okay, uh, do you mind not recording me?”  she lowers her phone a little.  “it’s still recording.”  “it’s not, anymore.”  “okay, well, i’ve got to go”  neil calls him you can see his feet shuffle.  “bye.”

then there’s one’s where he’s roasting interviewers.

“why don’t you smile for us?”  “smiling won’t make a difference in any of my answers.  next question.”

“you came out, just this week, to be dating a man.  any change in positions, if you know what i mean?”  she laughs.  kevin leans back, catching matt’s eye.  “what an embarrassing question.  that’ll be all.  matt, let’s go.”

“i’m sorry about the death of riko moriyama, but the way.  to have someone of a brother go in such a way must have been hard for you, yes?”  “well, good thing we were never brothers.”  he adds on.  “i don’t appreciate you actively trying to get a reaction out of me.  i think we’re done here?  yes?”

“now that he’s off his drugs, is andrew minyard a threat to the team?”  “why would you think that?”  “well, we all know his timeline, his history”  “time is a social construct.  i’ll go find andrew to take my spot, if we’re not going to focus on the game.”

“surely you guys must get plenty of girls drooling over you, with what such an intense workout regimen does!”  “girls aren’t animals.  educate yourself, please.”

that’s the one that dalton sends to carmen.  he can’t help it.   she loves it, texts him back a series of keyboard smashes and heart eye emojis.  A FEMINIST. 

the next time dalton uses his laptop it’s to look up a tutorial with kevin.  he stops and turns the screen when dalton scrambles to open a new tab.

“so how much have you seen?”

dalton cringes, but sinks into kevin’s side.  “kathy?  and... the croissants,” he whispers, and-

“jesus christ.”  kevin gets up and heads to dalton’s bathroom to shower.  “it’s pronounced croissant!”

#kevin day #bisexual kevin day #kevin #the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is #OC: dalton miller #dalton miller #kevin day x dalton miller #exy #aftg #all for the game #the foxes #the foxhole court #riko moriyama #neil roasts #Palmetto State #palmetto state university #palmetto state foxes

[ac3id]

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pairings: Sub! Kaminari Denki x Dom! FemReader

warnings: characters in this story are 18+, crackfic if you squint, sharing of risqué pictures, phone sex, mutual masturbation, porn with a plot basically  dom yn, sub denki

word count: 2.6k

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we hope you  like it!!! 

masterlist

You stretched your arms behind your back. After a long day of paperwork, you were tired. You bent your fingers one by one until they released that satisfying ‘pop’ sound. Relaxing yourself in your chair you reach for your phone. You go through your social media, text a few friends and then your eyes fall onto boyfriend’s contacts.

Kaminari Denki or better know as Chargebolt. The aspiring Pro-Hero who  graduated from U.A and now the 23 year old was on his journey to becoming a memorable hero. But right now, he was on his bed resting. The blonde had been hit by an energy draining quirk which made it impossible to do athletic tasks. He was advised to rest and that’s what he had been doing for the past three days.

                                                 Dankie

You[23:31]:

You[23:31]: hOWS my FAV BOI DOINGGG ???????????????

Dankie[23:31]: >:(

Dankie[23:31]: traitor ass biTCH

You[23:32]: DENKI LMFAO I SAID I WAS SORRY SILHAKD

Dankie[23:32]: u didnt come visit me today:'''(

You[23:32]: yeah,sorry about that:(((if u werent so fucking clumsy i wouldnt be stuck doing extra hours of EXTRA paperwork>:(

Dankie[23:32]: gO GET THAT BAG Y/NNIE BBIE

Dankie[23:32]: n e ways

Dankie[23:32]: ei missed juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Dankie[23:32]:

You[23:32]: didnt kiri visit tho

Dankie[23:33]: he did but :( ur better

You[23:33]: dfjhskjfd ik i am

Dankie[23:33]: playing uno with him isnt that fun cuz that bitch ALWAYS wins , u lose all the time lmfao i leik winning against u

You[23:33]:

You[23:33]: hows your injury tho bb<3

Dankie[23:33]: idk im gonna go to work like day after tommorrow

Dankie[23:34]: n e ways

Dankie[23:34]: how was your day, beautiful

You[23:34]: terrible, old hag keeps piling me up with work.i dont get paid enough to deal with her shit

You[23:34]: i stg gonna murder her one day.

Dankie[23:34]: awwww my poor ynnie here have a picture of your beautiful boyfriend to light up ur day:)

You[23:35]: its 11 in the night denki

Dankie[23:35]: just let me have this one thing please,

Dankie[23:35]: I HAVE A PICTUER SOMEWHERE IN MY GALLERY WAIT lOOK

Dankie[23:35]: admit it,u ken not resist ur beautiful boyfriend

You were about to text out a sarcastic reply, your fingers hovering over the send key when you noticed Denki had sent a disappearing photo.

Dankie[23:35]: [image8166.jpeg]

You press your thumb over the button to view it in full size,

probably one of his dumbass selfies again

you thought to yourself.

“The fuck!?” you almost scream, eyes blown wide at the sight.

Before you knew it you were confronted by the sight of a dick, his hand wrapped around it resting against his abdomen, spurts of cum decorating the head of his cock and onto his flushed body.

It looked so inviting, so hard and sexy waiting to be played with. It turned you on.

You gulped as you took it all in.

In all honesty the sight made your mouth water, your tongue reaching out to wet you lips as your breathing quickened, your core heating with arousal. Your thoughts running wildly as you inspect the picture, fingers trembling ever so slightly as you work your fingers to quickly take a screenshot of the picture

Dankie[23:35]: u still there yn?

Dankie[23:35]: o shit.yn im so SORRY

Dankie[23:36]:SHIT SHIT IM SO SORRY YN I DIDNT MEAN TO MY FINGER SLIPPED FUCKFUCK IM SO SORRY I UNDERSTAND IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE

Oh Fuck!

Sucking his lips into his mouth, fear took over his senses as he realized that you were about to receive his nude out of nowhere.

nonononononono nO! This couldn't be happening. No!'

Denki quickly pressed the power off button at least eight times, hoping that would change something, but he knew very well it wouldn't. His entire face flamed with embarrassment.

He opened the chat again just to check if it actually sent. Maybe he still had the chance to delete it. He was met with disappointment, the air surrounding him growing heavier, your prolonged silence was making him freak out even more DAMMIT DENKI !!

Dankie[23:36]: Y/N please say soemthing please,

The dreaded 'typing' box appeared on the bottom of the screen, he mentally prepared himself for rejection. Maybe if you ask about it, he could just pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about. Fuck, how did he manage to fuck up this bad?Just then, the sound of his notification stirred him from his thoughts, indicating a reply from you. He reached for the phone,

You[23:37]: that’s a pretty dick, denki

You[23:37]: mommy would love to play with it.

OH My God. Denki internally screamed. He did not know what he was expecting. Granted you both had started going out just recently, a slip up like that was bound to set you off. He expected you being  reluctant about the situation and brushing it of.

He thought of what he should reply and stared texting. His fingers smashed against the keyboard as butterflies danced in his stomach. He could feel himself get hard.

Dankie[23:37]: you’re making me horny, mommy

You[23:37]: fuck, you’re such a naughty boy

You[23:37]: tell me how badly you want me.

Dankie[23:38]: please, my dick is so hard for you right now. I can’t think straight.

Denki’s heart beat quickens whilst he wait for you to reply. His hand slips down his sweats as he starts palming his cock through the cotton of his sweats.

You[23:38]: you like it when mommy talks to you like this, don’t you babyboy?

Dankie[23:38]: yes i do. please don’t stop

You[23:38]: you think you can send these pictures and not face consequences?

You[23:38]: is this turning you on?

Dankie[23:38]: yes. goddamn.

It was a moment before he responded and when he did, he sent an image. Upon opening it, your throat dries out. You see the outline of his erection through his boxers you gulp again as your eyes feast on the main focus of the picture. It made your pussy throb. You couldn’t stop staring, not even when another loud 'ping' sounded through the room.

Dankie[23:39]: Oh God, please fuck me.

You[23:39]: are you teasing me?

Dankie[23:39]: ...what if I am?

Dankie[23:39]: y/n i want you so bad. are you alone right now?

You[23:39]: yes i am.

You[23:39]: such a little slut, aren’t you?

Dankie[23:39]: yes, only for you

Dankie[23:40]: God, you're good at this.

His fingers were pressing the ‘call’ button before he processed his move, thick arousal mixed with frustration clouded his thoughts. His hand palming himself through his boxers and his leg bouncing up and down in anticipation as his phone rang for you.

Your phone lit up with an incoming call.

“Hey, babyboy,” you spoke as soon as he picked up, teasing him. Your voice sultry and low making Denki gulp. The dirty talk was really getting him going.

“Just hearing my voice has gotten you so bothered, huh?” you smirk, feeling your nipples hardening and poking through the fabric of your work shirt

“I'm so lonely and needy right now-”  He shyly admitted, “I need you so bad.” finding himself blush bashfully for you. Flattered and embarrassed at his blunt confession, but still desperate for you. He could hear your breathing on the other side of the phone, it was quick, excited. You heard him take in a deep breath; you could almost see the pink painting his cheeks.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, sending me pictures like that. Tell me when did you take it? Who were you thinking of when you touched yourself?” you rasp into the phone making him gasp.

God, this was like a dream

“It was for you! Everything, You!” He sounded desperate, clinging to release as his member throbbed harder. Biting down on his lower lip, inching to hear your commanding voice over the static.

“Is that so? Well, I am flattered.” Denki smiled to himself hearing the praise. “But, do you seriously think you should be allowed to cum? After all, you touched yourself like a shameless whore. Not to mention, without my permission?”

Denki’s smile fell as he started mumbling apologizes into the phone. He promised he’d never do anything like that ever again. Please, just let him cum.

“You heard me,” You taunted, “Bad boys don’t deserve mommy’s help.” you say, your voice faking disinterest. “Please.”  he begged pathetically. Trying to convince you to help him out.

“Please help me cum.”

“Really?” You scoff, a teasing smirk appearing on your lips. “You seem to be doing just fine on your own.” apologies come rushing over the phone,  “No, no, please! I’ll be good. I’ll be a good boy! I’ll do anything!” he pants, biting the corner of his lip as his hand hovered over his erect shaft. “P-Please, Mommy!’’

You bit back a whine as you clench your thighs together “Okay,” you start, voice as smooth as silk. “Why don’t you reach down and touch yourself for me? Make yourself feel good,”

Denki relishes as hearing your command. He quickly puts the caller on speaker and places it on the stool next to his bed. His fingers pull his sweats down to his thigh, his boxers soon following. His hard cock rest against his stomach, the tip flushed and angry; pre-cum leaking from the slit. His right hand firmly grasp it while his left reaches for his phone.

He moans your name as he pumps his cock using the pre-cum as lube, he hisses and groans lost in utopia until he hears your voice again. “You don’t get to cum until I tell you to.” you smirk at him failing to stifle his whimpers, clenching his eyes shut as he took a deep, steadying breath before he responding. “Okay, Mommy.” he blushes, submitting himself to you.

Taking the base of his length into his hand, putting the phone closer to his mouth so you could hear his heavy breathing as he traced a finger along the vein decorating his shaft, he moans softly feeling sparks of pleasure erupting throughout his body. Moving his thumb to his drenched tip, vigorously rubbing himself the way you had instructed him to — the action making him crazy, Denki didn't even try to hold back the moans erupting from his mouth as he fucked his hand, wishing it was you.

“You sound so good jerking off to Mommy’s voice.”

“Feels good, huh, babyboy?” you ask. He hums nodding his head. “Feels so damn good.” His hand leaves his dick, coming up to his mouth and spitting on it. Using spit as lube as he began to rub himself, hips bucking against his hand; whimpering your name as his back arches up slightly, the pre-cum and spit making it easier to move his hand quicker moaning and hearing you doing the same. He could hear your breathing get heavier,the anticipation of you masturbating too made his even harder if that were possible.

“There’s a good little slut.” you say with a normal, leveled voice while he struggled on the other side of the phone. You listen to him jerk off, pumping his shaft and moaning out your name. Hearing him pump his cock up and down, you pictured his sitting on his bed, flushed face hand stroking his cock cum oozing out of his slit. Maybe you’ll ask him to lick it up later.

“Are you wet, Mommy?” His voice is soft followed by heavy breathing. “So wet. You have no idea.” your raspy voice filled the empty room.

“I want to taste your pussy, Y/N.” he moaned into the phone. You slip your hand down over your clothed cunt, rubbing against your swollen clit. “Is that so, Denki? Wouldn't you like that? Me sitting on your face? You can eat all you want.”

“God, your pussy sounds so good.” Denki moaned as you adjust the phone closer. “Oh fuck, Denki!" you moan as you sunk down onto your fingers. The scent of sweat and lust lingered through his nose, he scrunched his eyes shut and his head pressed back into his pillow. His mouth was gape open, breathing heavily as he moaned loudly into the phone. “Shit. Mommy." he cursed.

“Mommy, I need your pussy.” you hear him beg, “W-wanna feel it a-around me. Milking my cock s-so good, wanna f-fuck you until you scream,” he speaks between choked moans. You wonder how he’s gotten so bold. “I would fuck your tight pussy so good.” you don’t doubt him at all.

Your fingers rub against your velvety walls, your hips bucking into your hand as you rolled your clit swiftly between your nimble fingers. “I’m gonna fuck you so good once i get my hands on you, babyboy.”

Speeding up his pace, imaging your face Denki let out a growl. Imagining you hovering over his pinned body as you whispered the most dirty words into his ear while pleasuring him. “F-fuck, Y/N.” he whispered, dropping his head back against the pillows as his eyes squeezed shut, his back arching wildly. There was no way he was going to last much longer.

The familiar feeling soon washed over you, your pussy pulsing and clenching around nothing with each delicious rub of your fingers against your clit. Your heart beat fast, your body tingling from the sensation it gave you. Your nether regions throbbing in pleasure. You almost fell, your legs quivering going limp

His stomach was clenching and he knew he was going to cum any second now “Please keep talking. Just a little more, please,” he begged breathlessly, continuing his thrusts for just a little while longer to get over the edge and you did just that.

“I- I’m so close mommy. Can I c-cum?” He bits his lower lip, trying to control his breathing. “Since you've been such a good boy. You can cum, baby.” you said breathlessly.

“Thank you so much, Mommy.”

“I want to hear you while you cum, baby. I want you to feel good, I want to feel good with you.” you choke out.

You wait patiently for his response but it doesn't come. After seconds of silence, you pulls your device away from your ear only to be greeted by the dark screen.

“Oh. He hung up?” you murmur out loud, a bit sad but you decide on not to dwell on it as you slip the phone back into your pocket, figuring his battery might have given up on him. After minutes you hear you phone start buzzing.

Dankie[01:20]: Baby NO. I’M SO SORRY MY PHONE DIED

Dankie[01:20]: Y/N PLEASE SOME BACK I DIDN’T MEAN TOOO

Dankie[01:20]: Y/N PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE COME BAC

You[01:21]: im here!

Dankie[01:21]: i m so sorry my phone died

You[01:22]: did you cum?

Denki feels his cheeks heat up again.

Dankie[01:23]:

A few moments later. A video clip appeared in the chat, you opened it much too quickly.

In the video, Denki had his hand wrapped around his shaft while his other hand was palming over his balls. He pumped himself, “I’m gonna come for you, Mommy.” It appeared he had situated the phone so his entire body was captured by the camera. Your eyes traveled down to his toned body, drinking the sight in. Moan escaped his parted lips, opening his eyes and staring at the camera with playful eyes. His jaw hangs open as he finally releases all he had over his stomach, chanting a string of your name and curses.

“Fuck, I really wish you were here now.” You heard him hiss “Really wish this was your mouth instead of my hand.” he whispered, his agile fingers move swiftly as he collected the white substance and then moving his hand upto his lips. Parting his lips swirling his tongue around his digits, sucking off the creamy substance and moaning louder for you. His eyes darkened with lust and hunger as he swallowed down every last drop, moaning at the taste of his warm cum causing your breath to hitch as much as he let out a series of seductive,soft pants.

“Why don't you come here and ride my cock?”

Your walls tighten around nothing and you immediately got up, your chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath.

You[01:43]:im coming over. gonna make sure you end up in the hospital for weeks after i'm done with you kaminari denki.

Dankie[01:44]: osiht (｡+･｀ω･´ )

Dankie[01:45]:

@mylovelyreblogs  @amahzing004 @thoughtfulpandazine2 @the-one-who-ate-god @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @villain-hotline @dabiisdaddy @annimalq @reader-stash @rcjackie @leeladebris @expn @vocaloidinlove @edgycactus @neon-tries-writing @shiggydiggydicked​ @yandereguysgalsandmonsterpals @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​ @chxrryvibes​ @yanderesmemory @purple-rabanito @amajikistan99​@the-grimm-writer​ @n4dhii​ @imkumichan​  @akura-ous-lady​ @dabicakes​ @leeknowstoomuch​ @nereida19​ @sahrafinee​ @uwubba​@anime-girl-nikki​ @rekoii​ @badtimechara​ @peachyashell​ @weirdr-artiest​ @prince-zukohere​ @deliciousstar​ @murderfesto​  @mltcp​  @alunafort​  @mrsllawliet​  @babayaga67​ @supernaturaldreamergirl1130​  

#kaminari denki #denki kaminari #kaminari x reader #denki smut #denki kaminari bnha #chargebolt bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha lemon #kaminari lemon #kaminari x reader lemon #denki x reader lemon #yandere kaminari #yandere denki #smut #smut writing #bnha phone sex #phone sex writings #phone sex smut #dom!reader fic #bnha x dom!reader #bnha x reader lemon #kaminari denki lemon #kaminari denki x readerlemon #bnha fanfiction #chargebolt #phone sex imagine #denki x reader fluff #denki fluff

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe Interval: Clumsy

this is unbelievably self-indulgent because i swear i have written variations of this scene about 100000 times but who CARES! such is the joy of writing. i fell on my keyboard and this appeared so im posting it

-

Master was working on a big project. Had been for almost a week, now. He spent most of the daytime holed up in his office, and Rowe had taken it upon himself to make him cups of tea throughout the day. It was to please his Master, of course, and keep him calm. A stressed out Master often came up with particularly sadistic ways of letting off steam.

But Master never seemed too stressed when Rowe disturbed him. Every time Rowe knocked on the door and Master saw the mug in his hand, his face just lit up. Like he was surprised by it every time. Rowe had to admit that seeing his Master so happy made him feel happy. Master was always so kind to him, even though just because Rowe was bringing him tea, he was still troubling Master with his useless self.

"Rowe! Thank you so much!" he would say. And then, "Did you make one for yourself?" or "Here, have a biscuit. Dip it in your tea like this." or "Thanks for coming up, pal. Breaks up my boring day, seeing you."

It made Rowe feel good. He was making Master Tomas happy. He was being useful. At the end of every day Master would slope downstairs, giving Rowe a tired smile and stretching until his joints cracked.

Master’s house was warm, and Rowe’s bare feet made little noise as he padded forward to kneel at Master’s feet, to beg for Master to let him eat that night.

"Rowe- please, please pal, you don’t have to beg."

You always say that! thought Rowe, not budging from his submissive position on the floor. But I will, Master. Because I’m good. To show you that I can be a well-trained Pet.

Master didn’t seem to expect much of Rowe, he had realised. Rowe wasn’t surprised- he had been tossed out, after all- but he always did his best to prove to Master Tomas that he knew how to behave.

Rowe sometimes wondered if Master had wanted a disobedient Pet, to have the fun of breaking them again, but then if he wanted to hurt and break Rowe he could anyway. Master could do as he pleased, and Rowe was certainly far from a perfect Pet. In fact, he messed up all the time, but Master hardly seemed to notice. It confused him to no end.

"Of course you can eat, pal" Master said, and Rowe’s chest lifted with relief. He had done enough- he had been obedient, and useful, and Master was pleased with him. He was allowed to eat.

Dinner with Master Tomas was still incomprehensible, but Rowe thought he liked it. Master let him sit at the table, and eat when he ate, and he gave him proper food! Food that was warm and tasty and good enough for Master, since he always ate the same. Rowe promised himself he wouldn’t let it go to his head. He was still only a Pet, after all.

After, Rowe washed up. He liked it- it was simple, and easy to do correctly. That was- until his hands, slippery with soap, lost their grip on a plate and sent it crashing to the floor. The smash was sickeningly loud.

Rowe’s eyes widened as he stared at the shards scattered across the floor. He started trembling, all his training flashing before him. He was so bad. He had broken one of Master’s things. Breaking something of Master’s meant being punished. It meant being hurt and bleeding and sobbing for forgiveness that never came because how could such a useless, insolent Pet ever earn mercy?

He saw Master approaching him and backed away before he even realised what he was doing (trying to get away- that was an extra punishment), and time seemed to slow down as Master’s face twisted from mere surprise into something much worse. And then he was rushing towards Rowe and grabbing him roughly, swinging him off the ground and pinning him to his chest. Rowe cried out in fear- it had all happened so fast!- and went limp in Master’s arms.

. . .

"Whoa, there," Tomas breathed, hoisting Rowe off the floor and away from the sharp pieces of ceramic. "I’m sorry for grabbing you, pal. You were about to step right on it and your feet are bare."

Rowe didn’t reply, which didn’t surprise him. It unnerved Tomas every time he felt Rowe go pliable against him, even though he knew he couldn’t help it. He had who-knew-how-many years of training under his belt, all telling him that if he slipped up, made any mistake at all, he’d be beaten until he’d learnt his lesson.

It made his heart ache, to think about it. That for Rowe, one little plate was worth more than him. Master’s possessions are not to be broken- unless that possession is a human being.

He sat down on the armrest of the sofa, Rowe still held tightly against him- too tightly, Tomas suddenly thought. What he could interpret as comforting Rowe would certainly interpret as entrapment.

"You’re okay, you’re okay," Tomas said, gently lowering Rowe’s skinny legs to the floor. Rowe collapsed to his knees, about to scramble away but then seeming to realise that that would only get him into more trouble. Or so he thought. Tomas wished he could snap his fingers and make Rowe’s conditioning melt away.

"I’m s-s-sorry M-Master, I’m s-so-orry p-p-please f-f-forgive me," he whimpered, tripping over every word and shaking like a leaf. "I w-won’t d-d-d-do it again I p-promise, I-I.. I-"

"It’s okay, it’s okay," Tomas soothed. "Shhh."

Rowe fell silent immediately, and Tomas kicked himself, because of course he would. He realised Rowe was crying, big fat tears sliding down his cheeks, and he was clearly doing everything to not make a sound.

"I mean- you can cry. You can speak. But you don’t have to beg."

Rowe sobbed miserably. No begging meant he just had a very scared Pet kneeling before him, waiting for his punishment. God, he wasn’t very good at this. How do you get through to someone who associates the smallest accident with unimaginable pain? Try to use language he can understand, I guess.

"Did you mean to smash the plate?" he asked gently. Rowe’s eyes widened and he flinched violently.

''No! No, n-n-no M-Master please no I d-didn’t, I didn’t I swear, I sw-wear please b-b-believe me, I w-wouldn’t-"

"I believe you," he said. "I believe you. So it was an accident, yes?" Rowe nodded, swallowing thickly through his panic. "Can you say that back to me, pal?"

"It was- was an- an accident, M-Master."

"Okay. I don’t punish accidents." I don’t punish, full stop. "It wasn’t your fault, so you haven’t done anything rude, or naughty, or bad. Okay?"

"B-But the plate…"

"It’s just a plate. I have plenty more."

He could see Rowe slowly working this out. It must be hard, hearing something that went so entirely against everything he knew.

"Just a plate," Rowe murmured.

"Exactly, pal."

-

tagging the T&R crew but as always, let me know if you’d only be tagged in main chapters! <3

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lave-e @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly

#i realised i had never actually written the QUINTESSENTIAL trope #of whumpee breaking smth and freaking out #this started out as smth different.... #hence the lengthy description of tomas working on smth #but hey ho #tomas and rowe #whump #whump fic #pet whump

[energyanon]

Surprise reading as I can’t seem to shake off the curiosity. Ok, I’m gonna set them up in relation to this drama. Personally, I don’t believe it. NV would have to have various personality disorders in order for this to be true, among 5000 other reasons why that is not normal, sane human behaviour. But the Instagram.. so many things don’t match up. However, both me and another anon felt fuzzy headed when we were representing her.. maybe it’s not just her overthinking, maybe it’s something more relating to some kind of disorder, but that’s not my place to say. Let’s check it out. Once again I’m gonna type as I go.

I’ve decided for three set ups here: 1. NV, 2. The group chat as a whole as cited on said Instagram, and 3. Henry.

Set up 2. (The GC) first. I picked up NV and got a headache.

First flag: Natalie wanted to be on top of the GC… that’s weird..

Henry is at a distance but he is staring at them both. Starting to feel like I may have been wrong in my judgment here ha.. 😬 I’m really hoping it’s not true cause otherwise that’s fucking sad and NV has genuine issues. But, I’m ok with being wrong.

Alright, let’s start as NV (cause GC, I feel I already know their feelings regardless of if it’s true or not) FYI, I have moved NV to being close but not on top, as one energy on top of - group of energies would be much too hard to decipher.

NV:

Immediate dizziness. I feel very hot and my air con is currently blasting down upon me so it’s not me. The group chat feels very little to NV. like tiny, as in I could step on them. (1. This can mean they’re not even being seen, she barely cares about them, or 2. Can feel more powerful than) as we know in the screenshots the latter was supposedly the case, so I’m not going to cross that out just yet, but it feels more like I’m just not even seeing them. they’re dirt under my feet. They don’t really have her attention and she’s not super bothered by them, but once I brought her attention to it She does want to stamp it out, it’s a complete nuisance. She wants to cover them up. I gave them a little tap, which ended turning into many taps which turned into actually wanting to destroy their rep all together. so she’s angry about it. (At this point I don’t know if she’s angry about This situation being a lie, as in she’s sick of these people doing this to her, or if she’s genuinely angry at the group for exposing her) the tiny dirt now feels a bit bigger but more like a basketball sized nuisance. She still feels bigger than them, it’s just that this is so ANNOYING. Still wants to rip them up into little pieces, she’s annoyed, she’s moving me around a whole bunch, she’s angry, she’s frustrated, she’s tying her hair up, she’s not having it. like it’s fucking annoying. this is all so ANNOYING. She’s stressed, she’s annoyed, she wants this over and done with.

No more energy shifts. Incoming questions.

Q: do you know them?

No I don’t fucking know them

Ok do you think that was a friend who exposed you?

I don’t know I can’t think I- (just a bunch of profanities) [note: it’s like she’s keyboard smashing in my brain right now it’s REALLY annoyed]

Jaw clenched, I’m swaying from side to side my hands are on my hips, hair away from my face I want to move somewhere else but I need to deal with THIS FUCKING THING FIRST ISHDJFKSJXJDSNX.

god it is SO ANNOYING like if you guys were all in front of me right now you’d be heading me yelling and screaming and So irritated I’m so I’m SO Annoyed. I can’t even think of any other questions to ask cause I’m too busy getting keyboard smashed atm.

I’m gonna move to the group to just see if the intentions there are legit. I need a break from NV.

Ok the group:

the group have some anxiety, stomach dropped. They’re not angry they’re just looking at NV. None of them can be sure if It was NV - I think some of them doubt but it was a “get it out just in case” situation. At least one of them feel bad. Nervous jitters from my right leg. You know how you fidget when you’re waiting to get in trouble?

Q: do you believe it was NV?

There are many of them so I’ll just say it as it came up. No (1) I don’t know (majority) one of them is a yeah, feels like the leader of the group but even then the yeah isn’t a solid resounding yeah. But it’s also not like a “yeaahhh?” It’s like I’m just gonna make a decision and it’s yeah.

Q: are you mad that nv is with Henry

I’m not mad (1)

We’re not mad, we just think he could do better. (Majority)

Q: why did you do this

To expose her

Q: why to expose her if you didn’t truly believe it was her

There is a very weak “it was the right thing to do” like.. when I say weak it feels like they don’t even believe that, but they’ve convinced themselves it is..?

Q: at any point did you lie or fabricate the screenshots?

Resounding no, but one solid yes from someone.

Q: Yes?

One of them.

Q: which one

(I was shown one of them, it was one of the purple and black ones, one where there isn’t much purple - I’ll have to check it after)

Ok, my leg isn’t going crazy anymore - there is just an expectant waiting. They’re looking at NV, she’s taller than them but not much taller (not like they’re a basketball being looked down upon, just normal human heights) the feeling is just waiting. Waiting to see if there is a response. That’s it, that’s all I’ve been given I can’t even conjure Up another question. (Sometimes when the energy is done sharing its just done, I can’t force it past that and I’m not in my right to)

Checking Henry:

Henry is tired, he’s disillusioned, he’s just staring into space. The other two are in front of him (facing one another) but he doesn’t see them. Genuinely no thoughts from him it’s complete disassociation. But I did ask if he knew about this situation, he doesn’t seem to know yet.

And yet he’s still disassociating.. the thought “I don’t know what to do” came up, but it was so slow and fractured it was like… you know that video of that kid who’s trying to say have you ever had a dream that you could do anything but he muddles it up for 20 seconds before getting to it? It’s like that (I’ll link it when I’m done)

“I don’t kn- I just I - what do I ev- wh-“ and it keeps going but imagine it taking FOREVER for him to say it.

He’s stuck in the disassociation. Weird choice, but I need to do it. I’m gonna slap him. (Which yes, means slapping myself)

Ok, that didn’t make much difference, he’s still super tired, he still didn’t see the other two but I tried to bring his attention to NV and he was already turning around to leave “I don’t care, I don’t care I’m too tired” and then he turned back and said to NV to clarify “I do care, but I don’t, I’m tired” and I took him out cause he was walking out of there anyway.

Back to NV one last time, and then I’m doing other stuff with my day and then I’ll do CE tonight.

NV

It’s always dizziness with this chick, I swear. Everytime im with her I’m dizzy, I’m losing blood pressure. She’s calmed down at least but fuck I’m dizzy more dizzy than I usually am (can be her, could also be me continuously going into different energies, I don’t tend to feel like this though but don’t rule it out)

Dizzy, Im not tired, but fatigued like I don’t need to sleep, I need to just lay down. I see the GC but they can fuck off I don’t care. She wants to kick them out of the way. As soon as she does she wants to leap out at them and tear them to shreds. She goes from 1- 100 real quick. I don’t want her to destroy my representative for the group, cause I don’t want anything to accidentally manifest in real time for the actual group, so im going to create a little thing that she can destroy instead - just in case there are any energetic consequences of her destroying the representation of the GC. Found a little piece of paper I called it placebo GC and we’re tearing it up.

Ok so, I got her to tear up Placebo GC. She got raveonous with it. I am now coming to believe that NV has some major anger issues. To be fair, im feeling how annoyed she is and I get it honestly it’s the only way to get out this level of emotion. It’s not healthy, therapy is needed for sure, but I’m not gonna sit here like this and say that she’s overreacting cause when you’re feeling like she is, there’s no where else for this to go

She ripped them up, crushed them, tore at them with her teeth, crushed them into a little ball again and chucked them away and then we just screamed “FUCK!” For literally about 3 minutes and she was LIVID. I’ve sat her down now while I write this, she’s still annoyed, she’s not livid.

Interesting to note though, all throughout the screaming there was never a single thought that came up that was like “why can’t they just let US live, why can’t we just BE together” she really doesn’t seem to care about the affect it has on her and Henry’s relationship, she’s just annoyed people are talking shit. Like she just doesn’t care that people won’t accept them.

Oh! I haven’t checked on her vs. HC so lemme do that. I wanna see if she checks up on him too, cause from a normal relationship perspective, this would affect him too. But let’s see.

Yup, ok, nothing from her end, if anything she’s giving him the silent treatment. Like she’s looking at him in the way you do when your partner has said something stupid and you’re too angry to answer. But she doesn’t care that he’s there. I went to him also to see if he would comfort her and he was just a brick wall, kind of more like “here I am I’m showing up but idc. I really idc. Sorry that you’re going through it I guess.” Both of them had the ~aura~ (I don’t know how to explain it on text) of “this did not go as planned” however, they didn’t SAY that, just as an FYI, it was just a bit of a shared feeling translated into words.

That’s it. I’m ending it there. I’ve got life admin to do, be back later for a CE reading as promised. :)

#ooo I should also check on the “quote NV unquote in the Instagram #fuck that would have been a good idea to see if it was legit her or not. #I’ll leave the set up as it is #do my stuff #do CE as promised and then try that out #reading #nv #hc

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.1]

Masterlist

Everything had played out like the rising action in a horror movie. And before the whole world's eyes, life on Earth had slowed to a snail-like crawl. Covid 19 was ravaging through cities and countries faster than a salmonella outbreak at a restaurant even Gordon Ramsay couldn't attempt to save. It was terrifying to watch, and even more terrifying to see work and interaction dry up so quickly. Especially for those who relied on social interaction to stay sane.

Luckily for Remington, he happened to be stuck with his brother when quarantine measures went into full effect.

It was no big deal living with Emerson, if anything, it was relatively more calm with two out of the three of them sharing a space. Sebastian and Larissa were staying well and safe in their own house, popping by now and again at the gate to check in on his little brothers. No doubt, it sucked. The album was pushed back, the tour called off, the only thing keeping the hype for 'The Bastards' release was social media.

At least Remington had comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to endure this quarantine alone. Living in his own house all by himself, he'd probably drive himself up the wall and find himself hanging off the rafters (literally).

Tuesday morning was bright and warm, as they tended to be in LA. Emerson was sat comfortably at the kitchen table, drinking his usual cup of tea and reading the depressing headlines coming out of the news. Pepper was curled up at his feet, snoring softly and her little marshmallow body rising steadily. The neighbourhood was quiet, it always was, but it was especially tranquil these spring days in April. He simpered sardonically when he read the latest quote from the president, promising that the pandemic would pass come July.

His attention was gripped suddenly when he heard the low squeal of car tires. The youngest brother glanced outside the window, his dark eyes falling over the little blue Waivecar that had pulled up at the opposing apartment complex. Those cars had been coming back and forth for the last four days, with the same girl coming and going. And at night, the apartment facing the house would keep the lights on until two or three in the morning, but she wasn't partying. The most noise this girl made was the hum of her radio drifting out of an open window.

Clearly, whoever she was, she was still in the weeds of moving. Perhaps when she was settled, Emerson would go by and introduce himself, make her feel welcome. Considering how warm the climate was, this particular neighbourhood had a tendency to be quiet cold and private towards neighbours. No doubt many of them weren't a fan of the band and their at home antics.

Emerson was startled when his brother came bounding in, dressed in the same moppy grey sweats he had been practically living in for weeks. Thank goodness he wasn't wearing his heelys this time around; the other day he had crashed into the couch and flipped over onto the cushions, nearly smashing his head on the coffee table.

"The guys will be by in about half an hour," he said. Emerson narrowed his eyes at his older brother.

"He says as we're under strict orders from the state health officials to not see anybody," he murmured.

Remington pouted, running a hand through his evidently growing blonde hair. He pulled up a seat next to his brother, "Hey, you were the one who said it's getting too quiet around here. And besides, it's not like we're coming from opposite counties. Seb lives like four blocks down from us,"

"I'm just getting a little nervous, is all," Emerson shrugged, showing him the article on his tablet, "The numbers are still going up,"

"And they'll keep going up until they find a cure. And while they're doing that, we're going to be in the backyard playing soccer and eating pizza," Remington smiled.

"Who said we're having pizza?"

"I did. I just decided,"

"Maybe I want Mexican? Did you think about that?"

Across the street in the fresh red brick and black-trimmed apartment, three floors up from the ground and in direct line of the sun sat Eva. The twenty-four-year-old literary bachelor sat comfortably at her newly furnished desk, typing away at her laptop that was due for a battery change -- Eva just hadn't found the time to physically take it into the store. On her right she had a lukewarm cup of coffee, on the left her speaker which was softly blasting Tove Lo's new album. All the while, her bony fingers flew over the keyboard, her big stormy blue eyes skimming the words that sprinted across her document.

Eva got by as a writer, not a novelist or a poet, but as a ghost writer. She was hired to write materials for would-be authors and journalists, all of whom either didn't have the drive or commitment to write to the extent Eva did. Surprisingly, she made some pretty good money just off that. And while that work tended to be dry and bleak, Eva had spent her free time writing various fanfictions -- mostly for Hannibal and Criminal Minds. She happened to be quite prolific on Tumblr because of her literary fantasies.

And while her work was often isolating, Eva didn't live alone by any means. She had her pale tabby, Pluto, to keep her company. He was snoozing on the couch, despite how often Eva had trained him not to do that when he was a kitten.

She had just returned from an early morning run from the grocery store -- having learned the hard way that despite the pandemic, people will continue to flock to the stores in droves and it's almost impossible to social distance within them. As if moving out of her old apartment wasn't hard enough, now she had to deal with hastily late movers, jumbled lease agreements, and a pandemic.

In the throws of bittersweet silence, Eva's concentration was broke when a shrill alarm had her nearly jumping out of her seat. It was only her phone, the screen lighting up with a 'Blocked' ID. Eva smiled wickedly and declined the call.

The young writer pushed her rolley chair away from the desk and did a stretch, her head turning towards the house across the street. She figured a couple of frat boys shared the place, they had a few of their friends over from time to time but they were relatively quiet. The most she would hear out of them is some smack talk coming from the backyard.

Pluto's head popped up from the couch, then he leapt onto the floor and trotted over to the window sill, hopping up to spy on the unfamiliar car that was pulling up to the house. Eva could hardly care less. There was a statewide order to see only a small group of people as little as possible, and as long as the neighbours wouldn't bother her, she wouldn't bother them.

It was a shame, as if having to meet new people wasn't difficult enough for her...

A few hours passed and soon the silence in the Los Angeles neighbourhood was broken by the grunts and thwacks of a backyard game of pool basketball. The boys and a few of their friends were all the more engaged in their game while their girls sat aside on deck chairs under the beating sun. Under the shade of the pergola, their friend Andrew was grilling some sausages -- beef and tofu -- on the barbecue.

Remington was taking the piss out of Sebastian for being all over his girl, but who the hell could blame the kid? There was a new rush of life in the guitarist's face whenever the topic of Larissa came up. The same could be said for Emerson and Shy. Remington wouldn't dare admit he was a little jealous of his brothers' happiness, so he'd settle for loving his brothers but torturing them at every opportunity.

Breaking out from the cold water, Emerson gripped tightly to the rubber red ball in his hand. Just as Sebastian came to take a running dive into the pool, he reared the ball back and hucked it at his older brother, nailing him square in the chest. Instead of a graceful dive, Sebastian flailed sideways and crashed into the water. The ball ricocheted onto the deck and bounced away towards the front yard.

"Oh my God!"

"Emerson!" Shy scolded, a little horrified and yet not surprised at her boyfriend's actions. Sebastian broke out of the water and shook his hair out of his eyes. It was more his pride and the laughter of his friends that hurt than the fading sting of rubber against skin.

Emerson meanwhile just giggled happily as he high-fived Remington.

"You guys fucking suck!" Sebastian glowered at the younger boys.

At the same time, Eva had given up on work for the day. As random as it was, she decided she'd try to make bread: the apparent trend that was surging during this quarantine. She bought all the things she would need this morning.

Stepped a few feet into the kitchen, she pushed open the window a brisk breeze flooding in and freshening up the air. Her attention was skewed to the house across the street, hearing some mild echoes of conversation and the thrum of a radio in the air.

She went to gather her ingredients and tools, however, as she turned to fetch an apron she realized something was missing: the patter of feet behind her. Pluto was usually Eva's shadow whenever he was in the kitchen, always the opportunistic cat he was. However, he wasn't on the couch. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't snooping around in her closet or hiding under the desk.

"Where'd the ball go?" Daniel called, clinging to the ledge of the pool.

"I'll get it" Remington swam to the ladder and pulled himself out of the water. He shook out his sopping blonde hair, unintentionally shaking his ass in his colorful swim trunks. Their friend, Michael, whistled from the pool. Remington only smirked on him.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, hunny," he sassed, waving his hand and ducked off to fetch the ball.

Puzzled, Eva grabbed Pluto's favorite bag of cat treats and shook it, the sound was always able to bring him out -- when he was within ten feet of the treats. The fact that he didn't appear told Eva that he must've gone out the window once again to wreak havoc.

With an irritated huff, she switched out her house slippers for her sandals and hightailed it out with the bag of treats.

The red rubber pool ball had rolled across the grass and lodged itself into a bush at the fence. Remington was awash in frigid goosebumps, not even the California heat could will away the pool's chill quick enough. Nevertheless, he crawled down and retrieved the ball from the brambles, swatting off what little dirt he could. However, his fixation swerved to the complex across the street when he heard a heavy slam.

"Pluto!" a young girl came charging out of the apartment complex, dressed in a slightly wrinkled white t-shirt and her jaw-length hair swivelled smoothly around her face as she frantically looked up and down the street, "Pluto!" she was shaking a little yellow bag.

Remington looked up and down the quiet street, almost expecting to see Pluto the Dog standing at the corner like Cartoon Cat. He glanced down quizzically at the ball, then back at the young woman.

Eva rubbed the stress lines on her forehead out of pure frustration. This wasn't the first time Pluto ran off, he always came back. However, the damn cat would always find ways to stir up trouble; rowling up dogs, plucking fish from little ponds, scratching at hanging laundry.

"Pluto!!" she shook the bag of treats.

"Hey!" Remington called, waving his hand to the stranger, "You alright?"

Eva glanced at the owner of that soft, yet scratchy voice. She hadn't even noticed the bleach blonde kid standing in the glint of the sun. Eva crossed the street and stood a few feet from the gate, keeping more than two meters distance.

"I'm sorry. Have you happen to see a cat running around? He's a pale tabby, couple black stripes, likes to chew shoes," she shrugged.

Remington only shook his head, "Sorry. I'm afraid not," he smiled sheepishly, "Did -- did you say he was a cat?"

"Yeah,"

"And you named your cat 'Pluto'? Like -- the dog?"

Eva smirked, but shook her head, unable to help but glance at the tattoos that crossed over this boy's torso, "He's named after The Black Cat," she said, "You ever read Edgar Allan Poe?"

Remington smiled sheepishly, "Oh right, right! I haven't read that in a while, actually. He named the cat after the Roman God for death,"

Eva smiled pleasantly, not having pegged this boy to know so much about EAP, "That's right. I wanted a black cat to fit with the theme but the damn tabby stole my heart,"

"He knew what he was doing, obviously," Remington grinned, "I'll keep an eye for him though, if I happen to --" he was cut short however when he heard Pepper start yapping from the backyard. The yapping was followed by the clanging of metal and a screeching yrowl.

"What the fuck?" Andrew suddenly shouted, “Where’d this cat come from!?”

Panic flooded over Eva's face and Remington didn't think twice to open the gate and let her in. Social distancing aside, they two of them rushed into the backyard to find a tray of sausages had crashed onto the floor, the meat had rolled everywhere. Shy clung to Pepper as the little pomeranien yapped and growled incessantly at the scruffy tabby on the patio table, back arched and hissing at the dog while he guarded his captured sausage.

Eva was understandably horrified.

"What the hell happened here?" Remington asked, just as in shock over the mess.

"Cat came out of nowhere and dive bombed our lunch!" Daniel replied, having just crawled out of the pool.

"Pluto!" Eva ran to the table and scooped up the snarling cat, Pepper was still yapping away, "What is the matter with you?" she scolded at Pluto before turning to Remington and Andrew, who still wielded the metal tongs in his hand, "I am so frickin' sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay," Andrew shook his head, glancing at the lost sausages longingly, "I was kind of craving sushi, anyways,"

"It's no big deal, honestly," Remington assured her, "Five second rule applies, I'm sure,"

"It's been about thirty-seven seconds," Sebastian spoke flatly.

"Since when were you counting?"

Larissa was the only one who didn't seem annoyed or surprised at the feline intruder. She smiled warmly at the young girl, "Is this your cat?"

"Unfortunately," Eva grinned sheepishly, "I should know better. He's in a new area and he tends to get into trouble. Also, if anyone happens to lose a shoe, he did it, and I'm apologizing in advance," she pointed a finger at the now calmed tabby.

Shy smiled, "Well, Pepper's no better. She tends to think she's a way bigger dog," she held up and coddled the fluffy pomeranian. Eva smiled awkwardly, only now noting that she forgot to grab a face mask. And here she was: in a backyard full of strangers in a pandemic.

"Wait, I recognize you," Emerson said, "You just moved across the street, right?"

"Yeah, that's me. Eva," she nodded, "Great first impression, right?"

"You couldn't do any worse than Curcio over here," Sebastian grinned, "Remember the split pants?"

"You're going to hang that over my head for the rest of my life, aren't you?" Daniel glowered.

"Maybe," Emerson turned back to Eva, "I'm Emerson, that's Sebastian, Daniel, Larissa, Michael, Shy, Andrew... and you've already met Remington, I see,"

"The best looking one," Remington grinned.

Eva nodded, "Well, it was very nice meeting you all, I should get going, though. And again, I'm so sorry about the cat,"

Remington shrugged, "It's just sausages. We can get more," he assured her, "Here, I'll walk you out,"

"Thanks," Eva smiled, keeping Pluto close to her chest as she passed Shy and Pepper. Pepper gave one last fleeting bark as the cat passed by. Pluto simply licked his lips.

Michael couldn't help but lean over as he caught one last glance at the new neighbour, then turning to Emerson, "How come you get the pretty neighbour?"

The drummer shrugged, reaching over to grab the rubber ball that Remington dropped at the end of the pool, "Dumb luck?"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 3

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Mortuary

There were always one or two friends in your life who you're never afraid will scold you or hang up on you in the early morning hours, even if the reason is because you had a nightmare about potatoes in your home growing lots of hair. Yin Zhou was this person to Lin Yan. He had two long strands of messy hair on his head, always wore unwashed shirts, and the eyes under his glasses could never focus because of how long he had spent gaming.

They grew up in the same neighbourhood, attended the same elementary school, middle school and high school, and they were each that "brilliant other child" in the eyes of both their parents. Since childhood, Lin Yan, regardless of how hard he worked, achieved the high grades that Yin Zhou could have achieved if he didn't skip class every day. No matter how good his grades were, his parents would praise Lin Yan for his diligent and hard work. After the college entrance exam, the two drank a glass of wine as a farewell and celebrated them parting ways. Unexpectedly, Yin Zhou missed half a page of questions while writing the math papers, but he still went to the same university as Lin Yan, so almost two. So the friendship continued with the constant cycle of loving and hating each other.

Later, they were divided by their majors. Yin Zhou studied electronics and Lin Yan studied history. From then on, there was little crossover with the two majors. Without the pressure of competition, the two of them became much closer, playing games, flirting with girls, talking about politics; there was no end to their activities.

The 'regular place' referred to the bar.

When Lin Yan walked in, he saw Yin Zhou shooting his shot with a girl at the bar unsuccessfully. Lin Yan called his name several times before he turned around. Yin Zhou opened a bottle of beer and his eyes widened: " Yo, you weren't responding to any of my calls or texts. Were you on a date?"

Lin Yan drank half the bottle in single breath, and said calmly, "I've got lost and was going around in circles."

"Got lost?!" Yin Zhou stared at him for a long time. Seeing that Lin Yan wasn't joking, he couldn't help but smile and said, "Are you feeling alright? If you're feeling sick, let this brother take you to the hospital."

Lin Yan was in a weird mood because of all the strange events that had happened. Now, his voice wasn't very strong either. He simply put down the beer bottle, put his hands on the table, raised his voice and shouted into Yin Zhou's ears: "I! Saw! A! Ghost!!"

His voice was so loud that most of the people at the bar heard him. They turned to look at him like he was crazy.

Yin Zhou hid his face behind his hand and muttered about how embarrassing it was. After thinking about it, he raised his head and said with a dazed expression: "Was it a female ghost? Was it pretty?"

Lin Yan was at a loss for words and the muscles on his face twitched.

Then Lin Yan explained all the night's occurrences to Yin Zhou in extreme detail, but he started regretting it halfway through. Yin Zhou obviously was eating it up, and a pair of unfocused eyes were shining with an excitement that couldn't be matched in ten thousand years. He rubbed his hands together and stammered when he heard the section of the figure under the street light: "This is too unscientific, or maybe it's too scientific. I'll apply to use one of the labs tomorrow, maybe I can figure this out!"

Lin Yan wanted to smash the beer bottle on his head.

"You seem busy, I'll head out first."

Yin Zhou caught him before he walked away and scratched his head: "Alright, alright. I'm just kidding. Have a drink first and we can go back to my place afterwards."

"Let's be optimistic. If that thing is a guy, then you've got to get rid of him immediately. If it's a woman, then she should definitely get down on her knees to see what is under your jeans."

Lin Yan was actually very grateful to him when he drove Yin Zhou all the way to his house. He thought that unreliable people would have unreliable benefits. No matter how weird things were, he would really listen to them, but he immediately regretted it once they reached his apartment. The reason was simple: Yin Zhou's room was dirty and no living person would ever be found in this room.

The sight that Lin Yan was faced with when he stepped in the door made him scream inside. It's better to go home and be scared to death by ghosts. God only knows how he lives like this. It was a 10-square metre rental with rubbish and clothes littering the floor. There were mountains of instant noodle boxes on the table. Some of them were being used as ashtrays and there were cigarette butts floating in the murky soup. He had no idea how long they were left there, but they were exuded a rancid smell.

The laptop was thrown on the bed, and there was a line of characters moving across the screen. Yin Zhou rushed to take a look, and groaned: "It's been going on repeatedly. The program has to be changed." After he was done talking, he didn't pay any more attention to Lin Yan. He leaned against the headboard, flipping through his notebook and clicked to stop debugging, tapping on his keyboard with his long fingers.

"There is food in the cupboard. If you get hungry, grab something to eat."

Lin Yan opened the cabinet and inspected Yin Zhou’s selection. Various brands of instant noodles, rice vermicelli, pickled mustard greens, a large number of ham sausages that were about to expire. . . If this guy croaks one day, the number of preservatives in him would help him survive for at least thirty more years. If ancient people had eaten things like this, it could've saved conservation historians so much time.

"Do you have any clean clothes? Mine are soaked from the rain. Could you lend me some dry clothes first."

"There's some on the ground. Grab those."

After feeling Lin Yan's murderous glare, Yin Zhou reluctantly got up and slowly opened the wicker basket at the foot of his bed: "Yes, yes, my mother comes to wash my clothes once a week, and the clean ones are here."

After speaking, he threw him a graphic t-shirt.

"You earn so much from your projects yet you live in such a shabby place. You don't even own a washing machine, and that quality of life is catching up with you. Aren't you afraid that your arrogant old man won't give you money to marry a wife in the future? Lin Yan took off his shirt, stretched the t-shirt over his head and put it on. With the shirt over his head, he asked in a muffled voice: "Help me find a pair of pants."

Yin Zhou threw his hands up and said with disdain: "You're being so picky. A person uses so much stuff when they are alive but when they're dead, they only need a coffin. Why are you being so particular about this?" After finishing speaking, Yu Guang looked at Lin Yan with a smirk. : "Xiao Linzi's figure is good, the fitness card is not for nothing."

He glanced at Lin Yan with his peripheral vision and gave a sly smirk: "Little Brother Lin is in good shape, your gym membership wasn't bought in vain."

"Don't you dare call me Little Brother Lin, I'll show you want a real man is!" Lin Yan picked up the electric kettle that was thrown by the bed, wiped off the ashes, and smacked his lips.

Lin Yan picked up the electric kettle that was thrown near the bed, wiped off a handful of cigarette ashes, and smacked his lips.

"Disgusting."

Yin Zhou ignored him and spoke to himself as he flipped through his suitcase. "I remember I had a pair of new jeans, where are they going. . . Huh? What's this? Did my mother leave her clothes in here?"

This was. . .

The body was made of red satin, black lining, with loose sleeves that hung down, and there was heavy embroidery around the wrists. Yin Zhou shook it out curiously. Just as he was about to hold it up to compare it to his body, Lin Yan cried out: "Put that down, don't touch it!"

Looking at Lin Yan's pale face, Yin Zhou also noticed that something was wrong, so he threw the red clothes on the bed.

"These are mortuary clothes. It's for the dead." Lin Yan said weakly.

Yin Zhou's face also changed.

"This thing doesn't belong here."

Yin Zhou looked around his room, as if to relieve the nervous atmosphere, he laughed twice: "Is it wrong? How about I call my mother and ask if she left it."

Yin Zhou looked around his room. Trying to break the tense atmosphere, he laughed twice: "Was this a mistake? How about I call my mother and ask if she put it in here?"

Lin Yan looked at the clothes and said dejectedly: "No need, I believe you."

He was getting angry, thinking that this thing was trying to provoke him no matter what, and now it was involving his friend. He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of him.

For a while, both of them were speechless. The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Under the light of the bright light, the red clothes were laid straight out on the bed like paper. Despite its bright colour, it was gloomy and had a terrifying appearance. The ancient style and the luxurious fabrics exuded such a cold atmosphere that it was like the sun had never touched it.

Ten minutes later.

Lin Yan picked up the car key on the table. He sighed and said to Yin Zhou: "I'm going back home. This thing is coming after me, staying here will only hurt you."

Yin Zhou spat out: "Don't give me that bullshit. It would be stupid to go back by yourself, just stay here."

What Lin Yan wanted to say was interrupted by Yin Zhou: "We're close enough that you're wearing my pants. Won't I be the one that will have to explain what happened to your parents if there's an accident? Don't mess with me. We'll talk about this in the morning."

After talking, yin Zhou searched under the bed for a while. He found another notebook and handed it to Lin Yan: "Do you think a ghost would be able to scare us to death? Hurry up, let's get some kills on Dota!"

Lin Yan was silent for a while, opened his notebook, and said with a smile: "You asked for it, I won't go easy on you!"

The light flickered and dimmed, and the room became more and more gloomy. Lin Yan knew instinctively that something was staring at him somewhere in the room. Maybe it had a pale face, wrapped in a red mortuary, and said sorrowfully: Your death is approaching.

This must be the weirdest night in his 22 years of life, Lin Yan thought. Once the sky begins to get bright, things will be over by dawn.

The red mortuary was like a long, stiff corpse lying on the bed, the sleeves folded across the front as if to remind him that this was only the beginning.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost #dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #bl novel #danmei novel

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

“No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #beccas1kwritingchallenge #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bitsmasterlist #bucky barnes

[floraisann]

ateez reaction: you’re addicted to animal crossing: new horizons

➣ requested? ✓

➣ genre: fluff, humor

➣ masterlist

sorry that some of these are kinda dry 😔 i am try

❅♩♬♩❅――

❥ kim hongjoong:

lets you do your thing tbh

you’ll probably just be vibing in the living room with the switch hooked up to the tv and everything’s great when hongjoong just,,,, moves his work over without saying anything

you’re just ???? and he’s just :)))) the “just another tuesday” grin, you know?

after long enough if you ask him why he moved, he just says he “likes the soundtrack” like bro we do be bopping to the animal crossing ost out here in this quarantine joint

watches you play, only making comments when a villager says something REALLY cursed

really likes marshal— he’s funny

not the type to hate villagers either except chops, fuck chops

once yunho shows him how the custom qr code outfit designs work you’re about to have the most stylish lil mayor that ever roamed the earth

probably also borrows your switch to make your town jingle

overall is just confused by the game dynamic, but likes the music and how happy it’s making you :)

you’re gonna have to put the switch down on your own honey, he’s too caught up in bopping to the music while doing his own work to realize you’ve been playing for eight hours

❥ park seonghwa

has the game too, probably bought it for you so you could build “couple islands” and be THAT cute gamer couple

still probably nags you for gaming too hard if too many hours pass and you’re ignoring basic needs to like,,,, get lolly on your island or something of the sort

but lolly’s cute give him 5 mins to fall in love w god cat

sends you cute in-game love letters when you’re headass six feet away from each other in real time

but it’s ok they’re cute and he likes making you blush

brings his pretty flowers to your island he also steals yours but that’s okay

dumbfounded by your blatant aggression towards certain villagers

offers to “trade” villagers with you to make you happy and marshal scares him please take marshal from him

yes he’ll bring you cute snacks as if you were studying

overall happy that you found something you enjoy together, but will make you take frequent breaks so you don’t put off whatever you actually have to do too much

❥ jeong yunho

didn’t get the hype at first. bought the game since he thought it had to be super fun if you were ignoring him for hours at a time to go bug catching LMFAO

yet when he downloads it there’s a catch

mr epic gamer, unlike you, has the luck of a god and generates an actual island paradise and probably gets a ton of shooting star fragments too 😔✊🏻

you’re the one stealing from his island, but it’s okay he loves you 💕

and he doesn’t quite understand the game yet

gives you star fragments because you can’t get any and he doesn’t want you all sad because you can’t make a wand!!

has all the cute villagers, but if any try to move will give them to you

pays off your tom nook debt because with his luck it probably takes him less than an hour to get filthy rich in game

also figures out the qr code outfits early on. yes he’ll try to make you one, yes he’ll make himself match

overall, he gets the game because of you but does it better because it’s yunho why wouldn’t he xoxo

still makes sure you’re doing what you need to before you go off to work on your island for six hours; the type to offer game rewards he magically obtains as a prize for you after you finish your daily work

oh to be jeong yunho

❥ kang yeosang

the president of the epic gamer club

probably persuaded you to buy it with him so he could rob your island of all your goods

makes you both reset the game until your islands both have good items but are different

so he can steal your fruit :D

“y/n, you— no, restart. you can’t have peach trees, i already have peach trees!”

“dates” where you guys lie on his bed with your consoles, literally just exploring each other’s islands

y’all practically end up sharing two islands. that’s how much you play together

invites you to go raid the other members’ islands

cursed humor carries into the game; like he’ll send you crackhead mail when you least expect it and the content WILL be something that’s only funny because it’s Yeosang

“you make me so incredibly happy, y/n. almost as happy as when tom nook first handed me my nookphone. almost”

celebrates with you when you’re both rid of the ugly villagers

overall impartial to your obsession, rather he’s glad he has someone to steal from share with

still will make you take breaks with him. he loves that you’ve got a pretty island but you need to take care of yourself sweetie

if you don’t listen he will randomly come on your island to beat you up with a shovel xoxo yeosang luvs u 😘

❥ choi san

would not mind the game at all if it weren’t making you IGNORE HIS NEED FOR CUDDLES >:(

tbh san would probably whine about being attention starved for an eternity 15 mins until he realizes his whining isn’t working, and he has no choice but to cuddle up to you while letting you do your thing

by that i mean he’s backseat gamer all the way, no i do not accept criticism

he’d probably just plop down next to you and cuddle into your side or lay on top of you— just positioning himself in some way that he can see your gameplay

the type to cling to you while you play while bothering you until you accept his game opinions as fact

can and will make you kick out the villagers he thinks are ugly

“i just want you to kick that smelly limberg out, is that really too much to ask?”

probably spent 10 minutes absolutely losing his shit over the animal crossing language

“WHY ARE THEY TALKING IN KEYBOARD SMASH?”

takes the next half hour to learn how to speak it

so next time you play too long and ignore him, will shut off your switch then lay down on you and scream acnh villager language gibberish in your EAR

"you didn’t have a problem with that voice three hours ago when you were talking to that cat rosie!!” :(

if you really ignore him and never stop playing NOTHING is stopping him from being dramatic and saying smth like “y/n, i can’t take this anymore! choose, me or him!”

“him” is tom nook

why the fuck would you pick tom nook

❥ song mingi

knows the game is popular but wasn’t bothered to try playing

so when he sees you, curled up on the couch in the same position he saw you two hours ago just with one less family sized bag of chips, he quietly sighs to himself and sits next to you

“is the game really that interesting?”

when you nod, he ends up like san and kind of chills with you, backseat gaming mode

except he isn’t yelling at you to kick out the ugly villagers, he can already see you trying on your own

gets shocked when the first tarantula appears and you get bitten

occasionally gives input on what he thinks you can do to have a better island

makes you go on an island tour so he can see what you headass just spent the last week making

actually is impressed by how much work you put into your virtual island

congrats! you’ve unlocked an achievement! : gaming livestream date for song mingi

will decide for himself who the cutest villager is then act cute and ask if he looks like them. it’s probably gonna be kid cat. tell him he does. please, Tell Him he looks like kid cat

basically i don’t think he’d be that put off by you getting addicted to the game because!!! acnl is the most relaxing game ever he likes to watch you while he unwinds after a long day

if you play too long though he won’t really say much, just sit by you pouting like :(((( “lov me”

pls love him, the big babie 🥺

❥ jeong wooyoung

another member that probably has the game, but isn’t as obsessed as you

will beg you for shooting star fragments if you get any though. please get this man a wand

does not get WHY you’re trying so hard on your island layout. literally only wants one villager, his island can go to shit so long as he has that one villager

that one villager is probably gonna be molly or something

another member who learns how to imitate animal crossing speak, except his voice is already in the correct pitch

makes fun of you complaining about a villager you hate but it all comes back to bite him in the ass once moose shows up on his island and he gets it

you guys are having a competition to see who can get sprinkle on your island first

spoiler alert: he wins, he stole her from seonghwa

(he steals a lot from seonghwa)

overall happy with the fact that you guys have a game to play together

but if you grind too hard on your own and ignore him for hours at a time can and will invade your island to steal your fruit and trample your flowers. AND send you spam mail

sorry

❥ choi jongho

doesn’t care for the game, and he’s mostly chill too so he’ll probably just vibe in the other room while you play, waiting for you to finish so he can do something with you

comes out a few hours later when you’re (still) lying on the couch, angrily button mashing while muttering curses to yourself

he’s really confused tbh, he’s seen yeosang play, he knows you don’t gotta go that hard to be a successful mayor, so he HAS to ask what the fuck you’re so mad about

“i’m TRYING to catch a blittering at the moment, but i keep getting these stupid carps!!! i have a debt to pay off, god!!”

becomes infinitely more amused with the game after that point

he thinks its so funny how someone could get heated while playing through probably the most relaxing game ever

watches you fish; he enjoys the puns and seeing you get frustrated when you keep catching those goddamn carps

probably takes the switch from you at one point to try his hand at it and catches a koi fish in his first five minutes

“i guess you just suck at fishing, y/n”

overall pretty unbothered by your love for the game until you start ignoring him

then he will threaten your in-game apples, saying he’s .2s away from stealing one of his members’ switches just to brawl with your trees

and we all know who’s gonna win between jongho and apples

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez scenarios #ateez writing #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez humor #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

[shaechans]

a shaechans fic: unexpected company

to: somni ( @insomni-writing​ ) a merry christmas to you somni!!! anddddd i’ve been your secret santa all this time ahhh i hope you’re surprised. maybe a little???? anyway, apologies in advance cause this is not that good and quite rushed (you may see a few edits after i’ve published ahhh but please pay no mind thanks<3) but i hope you like this. i wrote about a uh uh surprise trope and i know you like horror but i’m not good at those:(( so i wrote this. i also posted a moodboard for this (and one for you special;)) on my other account @a5ahiboyz so check it out!! small note at the end as well yee i talk too much

pairing: lee haechan x somni

genre: strangers! au, fluff, a little angst towards the end and in the middle, kinda boring:((

word count: 3.2k it was supposed to be 2.5k ahhhhhhh

warnings: like one swear word

the evening wasn’t going well for somni. ironic seeing how she was always one to get things done her way or it wasn’t considered an accomplishment to her. but today was...different. it was the day she had met a fellow, claimed master criminal lee haechan.

lee haechan, or by birth, donghyuck—something somni would prefer calling him just to see him clench fists—would be your definition of next door boy. friendly, the type to reach out for cookies with a mischievous grin kinda tune. he carries a lovely, bubbly energy every time he shows his face and is the neighborhood's pride and, at this point, only hope! and he was happy to be so. 

except for the fact that he was an evil genius.

thursday, 24th december  21:11pm

flipping through the fiction section of the bookstore, somni let out a sigh seeing the stock of last ones left alive, a book she had been aching to get her hands on, diminishing each day she’d visit the store. she was running out of motivation to actually get a job, like she had considered a few days, and/or steal anything seeing how she wouldn’t be able to afford it anyway.

sighing yet again, she got herself ready to walk back to her ‘house’. rubbing her palms and blowing hot air into them she prepared for the cold and harsh wind to hit her out of her senses again. as she thought of a hot chocolate to warm her system, a certain book caught her eye from the new release section. turning back around, somni rushed over to read through the summary at the back.

all too focused on the book, she missed to hear the last call for the last of customers at the store. and when she did get back to her senses, she heard the last of the keys jingling as the owner locked the store. somni’s head whipped in the direction of the main door, as she made a run for the door, eyes widening to saucers in realization.

after a minute or so of banging and yanking at the door knob, somni let go, sliding down the door before regretting as the cold wind from the loose end of the door nipped at her skin. she sighed loudly at the thought of spending the night in this cold nightmare of a store. alone. until she heard a voice on the other, back end of the store. picking up a book near her as defense, somni carefully walked over, curiosity getting the best of her.

“um hello-AHHAHHHHHHHHKASJAKJHSSJ” the figure keyboard smashed as somni ran over, in an attack stance before smacking the shadow across the head. the mysterious person was now unconscious on the floor as somni panicked over her actions. the person would come to be the very famous, lee haechan!

somni was born to loving parents and got everything she ever wanted. except she could never be satisfied with whatever it was she did receive. don’t get the girl wrong, what she demanded would be given at her feet, but unfortunate for her parents, as easily satisfied she was, twice the dissatisfaction she would spit. it wasn’t until her father snapped at her and abandoned her by the family cottage just 2 miles away from home. but then again, it wasn’t like somni planned on going back home anyway.

and that’s when the idea of theft inspired somni for the “better”.

thursday, 24th december  21:23pm

it had been a little over fifteen minutes to haechan’s passing out, when somni had managed to find water from the storeroom of the bookstore. cradling water—ice cold water, to which she flinched first but then overcame the numbness—from the now tilted bottle on her left hand into her right, as she straight up splashed water on his face. and when he didn’t respond to that, panicking, tilted the bottle upside down, the water drenching his face and shirt.

at that, the boy gasped sharply, shooting up straight like, similar to his widened from when he experienced literal ice cubes fall on his skin. the two stared at each other for a minute, haechan in utter shock and somni in relief/concern from recovering from the fact that she didn’t murder.

somni was first to turn away, exhaling breath she didn’t she had held. “thank GOD you aren’t dead! i couldn’t be with another one” “whAT?” “NOTHING!” somni yelled, turning around and standing up to get away quickly from the wet and cold scene. haechan needed a few extra minutes to process the situation before getting to his feet too and following her to the main door.

“what are you doing?” jumping slightly and holding onto her heart, somni rolled her eyes as she took note of his presence and choosing to ignore his question, she continued to try her luck unscrewing the door with a hard covered book. that went on for five minutes before she gave up and clicked her tongue, and went on a search to find another tool.

haechan could only watch her move around, hands behind his back as his eyes rested onto the tops of the dusty bookshelves. “do they seriously not clean those? christ!” he exclaimed, pulling out a tissue from his jean pocket and climbing to reach the top part of the shelf.

a loud thud and hard covered books falling was what brought somni out of her trance from staring at the toolbox, in a dilemma with what to choose, her indecisiveness kicking in at a wrong time. running out to see a haechan piled under heavy looking books, somni stifled a laugh before trying to steady her voice “are you okay??”

to see how true of an evil genius haechan would reveal later to be what somni would come to realization a little late. to somni, haechan was a comforting sign that destruction would still present itself in the oblivious way and it made her feel a little less lonely than she would on the daily. so much comfort that it was almost like he was following her. following her enough to know that she needed a reassurance of the other evil present in the world.

somni would start low, with convenience stores and slowly then work her way up to malls and finally, her one and only love: the bookstore round the corner. the smell of newly fresh printed pages—which she would walk by simply to get motivated with her next convenience store raid—is what somni would call motivation. which is why she was currently trapped in a bookstore, past their closing time (as she knew), with her new bestie<33, the one and the only, lee haechan.

thursday, 24th december  21:57pm

“so what exactly were you doing doing here?” somni let the question hang onto the dry silence that was meant to be broken anyway. the pair moved over to the floor after somni helped and laughed and cleaned the books off him and out of the way. somni having given up on finding a way out at this point, the surroundings being too cold for her to stand solo.

at this haechan pondered for a bit, before answering “i was on the look for this one book, a series of them actually. my aunt asked, to which i’ve already forgotten the title” he paused to roll his eyes and look through his previous messages, presumably from said aunt.

“percy jackson and the olympians” shrugging as he announced, he clicked his phone ‘off’ before looking to somni, who managed to resist a sequel as he confirmed the title. that being understandable as it was her favouritest book of all time! haechan eyed her, eyebrow raising when she covered her mouth, trying her best to hide the grin etching onto her face.

“what’s with your reaction?” “oh it’s just i-” somni started before thinking; why on earth do i have to let him know. he’s just a stranger after all. she didn’t even know his name.

she didn’t even know his name.

“uh what did you say your name was again??” somni raised her brow at the boy, watching his eyes slowly widened a bit realising they hadn’t introduced themselves. he stuck out his hand, a boxy grin present as he introduced himself “i’m lee donghyuck! but everyone calls me haechan because donghyuck’s too….formal for me.” somni nodded once, before reaching out to shake his hand “i’m somni! it’s nice meeting you donghyuck” she winked at him as he groaned, causing her to stick out her tongue playfully at him.

donghyuck grew up in a family of four sisters and one twin brother. the seven of them lived contently with their father’s pay as police commissioner and mother as a lawyer—training currently for magistrate judge. however, their parents were quite conservative with family traditions and obedience. so when one of donghyucks’ older sisters came out to them as pansexual, she was banished from entering the house. this quick and stern change startling the rest and so they started to fulfill and satisfy with whatever their parents wished for them today.

all except donghyuck.

of course he was scared out of wits even at the thought of running away but after his twin convinced him to do it with him, donghyuck trusted him. and so one night, six year old donghyuck ran away. alone. his twin having ditched out of last minute thoughts. finding shelter in a nearby house down the street, turning to the first house he could. the couple thinking he was in trouble decided to take him in. before he knows, he’s staying with them for years and suddenly he’s eighteen and he goes off to his first day of university. 

and then he meets his father.

thursday, 24th december  22:17pm

“why do you even like that book?” haechan asked, a disgusted look taking over his features as somni reached out to smack his leg slightly. “it’s not just a book!! it’s a journey” “jOuRneY” they said in unison, haechan mockingly as he rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly at somni’s offended expression.

since they had no other work to do, the two decided to at least clean the store while haechan was on the lookout for the percy jackson book series his aunt had requested for. somni had let the boy know that she had seen it earlier and was ecstatic to lead the way to them. while she did so, she also rambled on and on about how exciting the books are and how he should give them a try, to which haechan could only ignore.

silence took over after somni had finished summarizing the basic structure of the series when haechan asked the question somni had been dreading to hear “isn’t your family gonna be worried?” minutes of cold emptiness went by before haechan interrupted “uh...hello? are you okay??” he asked, and as somni could see from the corner of eye, worriedly. after taking in her wordless response—and a visible gulp—haechan dropped the question.

“i know mine won’t worry,” he said after a few seconds. “it’s not like they ever did” he muttered looking away. at that, he managed to get somni’s attention and continuing on “my birth parents were quite stern in their ways and so i ran away” somni gawked at this, staring at the nonchalant boy in front of her. “you ran a-away?” haechan nodded.

“when i was six” “wheN YOU WERE SIX?!!?!?” haechan’s heart sped up at her sudden increase in her volume, but nodding nonetheless. “hmm me and my twin decided to just leave. but when the time came, he ditched me so i just left by myself” he paused to search the top shelves for the books. “and obviously they didn’t come after me”.

at that, somni unintentionally reached to touch his arm as a sign of comfort. but soon removed it when haechan looked between her and her hand. sighing, somni internally debated with whether she should tell haechan of her situation or was he still yet to gain her trust. eventually she thought ‘fuck it’ and decided to tell him. what could he possibly do with the information?

somni didn’t exactly have much of a school life seeing how despite her parents paying for her fees three more years after her moving out, she was never one to mingle with people. she’d often keep to herself and just go on with whatever life threw at her. which is why she moved to theft in the first place. in order to provide for herself.

but then she was offered a job. a job at the convenience store she would raid.

having been working there long enough (two ½ years) made stealing easier for her. this way she earned her share of finance and everyday necessities. her boss was a snooze, who’d never glance over at any of the items for more that second, to realise things were missing. and in addition, somni would convince her that it was just selling well, increasing her spirits and faith in the girl. therefore not spare a thought to check cctv rolls.

thursday, 24th december  22:42pm

“i got sent away.” haechan hummed in question, heading slowly turning in her direction as they sat on the carpeted floor of the bookstore. sighing and placing her book page down, somni continued with more confidence “my parents threw my out of the house. and they were right! they had every reason to! but i” her words choked slightly, haechan looking at her with sympathy “i just miss them” she sighed finally looking up at him and after her constant eye contact with the floor, haechan was illuminating from the moon reflecting on him through the small front window.

“i’ve been an absolute brat my entire life and i can only imagine how fed up my parents were of me to actually send me away” her ramble coming to a stop when she couldn’t find words to say. the feeling of emptiness only increasing by the second within her. somni felt her tears fall when she registered haechan’s hand patting her back in reassurance.

she paid him a smile back after inhaling and exhaling to catch her senses back. he smiled back as okay before going back to reading. the precious silence lasted for a while before haechan closed his book and turned to face somni completely. “so how do you live? by yourself?? what do you do for a living? god i just need to know!!” somni raised her brow at the boy in front of her, not choosing to flinch, accustomed to his startling nature.

“well i do live by myself, i still go to school cause my parents pay for it and for a living, i steal”

and then the power tripped.

donghyuck’s new life with his parents was much easier than what he had experienced with his birth family. at first he would still be unfazed with his change in surroundings, asking permission to even go to the bathroom and bowing when the pair would confusingly agree. they would sit him down one day to explain that he needn't ask their permission to tug at their clothes to call them—to which donghyuck would look at the pair astonished at this new world.

and from then on, donghyuk was constantly loved and pampered by the old couple and it was everything he could ask for. he lived a normal life, going to school everyday and then even offering to repay his parents by working shifts at a restaurant after he would turn seventeen.

every once in a while he would run into his siblings around town but he would just walk away. it wasn’t like they were gonna recognize him anyway.

thursday, 24th december  23:24pm

somni froze. haechan had been clinging on to her arm, eyes closed shut and body trembling. his small fit went on for a while, somni being patient and even patting his back awkwardly. “i-i’m a little, tiny bit TERRIFIED of the dark” somni chuckled softly, firmly placing a hand on his back, running it up and down in comfort.

they sat there until somni tapped his hand and reached her own out for him to take “c’mon just take my hand and we’ll go find the power switch okay” haechan nodded, eyes still closed. after successfully standing up, somni walked with dragged haechan to the main switch on the other side of the store. after messing with switches carefully, somni managed to get the light back on.

she clapped her hands excitedly and turned to haechan, who was still hugging her waist. haechan looked up at her and they were close enough to have their noses touching. they stared at each other, either too frozen in place to move. somni faked a cough and cleared her throat, haechan taking the signal and moving away, standing up straight with hot pink cheeks.

friday, 25th december  00:04pm

bored out of their minds, the pair of them moved to lay on the floor, eyes boring holes into the wooden roof of the bookstore. random thoughts running wild at nothing to concentrate on. haechan was first to break the silence, gasping and sitting straight up and looking around at the clock. “it’s christmas!!!” somni soon got up too, beaming at the clock and then at haechan.

“merry christmas donghyuck” she laughed, leaning forward to hug the now sulky boy. “haha merry christmas to you somni.” the hug was soon interrupted by sirens fading into the scene. the two pulled away fast, heads whipping in the direction of the sound.

“we’ve gotta run!” “grab the books you need!” haechan stared at somni in confusion as she stood up to get her desired book. “wait wait. GRAB the books? are you gonna steal them?” somni paused to give him a look of an obvious nod. “you can’t just fucking stea-” “PUT YOUR HANDS UP WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”

dropping the books in astonishment, the both of them throwing their hands up immediately. they were then assisted outside, shivering when coming in sudden contact with the snowy environment. somni rubbed her arms up and down as a way to provide warmth. looking around for haechan, she saw him handshaking the officer??

“ms. somni, you are under arrest for theft!” somni could not move, feet as frozen as her lips. she called out for haechan who replied with a smirk before walking over to her. “what’s up love?” “whaT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” “arresting you on the basis of theft?” he said like it was blatantly obvious.

somni gritted her teeth as he winked back at her before turning to walk away. “just wait till i get out lee donghyuk” stopping in his tracks, he turned his head slightly back, “it’s officer haechan to you”

from: nes!! wellllll hi lmao. firstly, this fucking sucks ASS. i didn’t even know what i was writing half way through and i honestly didn’t have the energy to proofread so i apologize for all the grammar mistakes:( wanna lowkey make a part two to this but let me know if this was even liable for a sequel ahhhh. anyway, have a merry christmas and i guess we’re mutuals now;)

#nctincss20 #mine #somni bb #nct #christmas!! #haechan #haechan fluff #angst #nct fluff #nct angst #fluff #haechan angst

[xandertheundead]

Helloooo, this is for the kissing prompts 7 + Reddie 💞👀

Of course!

 ...to shut them up

Richie shut the door slowly, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could and winced a little when the door clicked a bit as it closed. He waited a moment, to see if she would wake up, but when no sounds of a posses off one year old came Richie counted it as a win. 

Coby has been an absolute cluster fuck since the moment she had woken up that morning, demanding a waffle then changing her mind and throwing it on the floor once Richie had made it. She was mad when he wasn’t holding her, but also mad when he picked her up, she kept grabbing Mr. Bagel Face’s tail and pulling until he tried to swipe at her.

No one should ever have to deal with a one year old with a cat scratch.

When him and Eddie had decided that Richie would be the one staying at home most of the time when Coby had been born, Richie had been fucking ecstatic. Being a house husband sounded like the best gig in the world! Make sure things we kept kinda clean, cook food, run some errands and get high on baby snugs all day?

Sign him the fuck up.

Only, that wasn’t exactly it. No one had warned Richie that the tiny adorable wrinkled monkey that they had taken home that day would one day become just the absolute devil incarnate. She had refused to nap, getting mad when he even tried to take her near her room, she only got about six percent of the pureed broccoli Eddie had made her last night in her mouth, the other ninety-four percent had been splattered all over the kitchen.

She’d hit him in the face hard enough to really hurt, she’d spilled his coffee all over herself and him (luckily it had been cold), she had pulled a chunk of his hair out, messed up his stand-up notes by bashing her tiny fat hands on the keyboard of his laptop and had decided all the toilet paper needed to go in the guest bathroom toilet.

Talking to the plumber, a real adult, had been the highlight of his day.

And now she was finally out, finally asleep and Jesus he was fucking exhausted.

Richie ran his hands through his slightly greasy hair, deciding he needed to shower before Eddie came home, when he heard the sound of the garage door opening. He frowned and glanced up, listening to the soft muted sound of Eddie closing his door and coming in through the door. 

Oh thank god. Eddie was home early.

But Richie’s happiness was cut short, pure panic racing through his veins when he heard Eddie shut the door and then yell.

“Richie? Coby! Papa is home!”

Oh shit!

Even if her sound machine was on, Eddie’s voice had always had this weird effect on Coby, she could pick his voice out of a crowd of thousands and could hear it even from long distances. It could even wake her up out of a dead sleep.

Fucking bat baby.

Richie hadn’t moved so fast in a long time, running down the hallway and pretty much vaulting down the stairs. His socked feet landed heavily on the floor, wincing when his left knee felt that, but he had no time to worry about that and slip sprinted toward the kitchen where the garage led into the house.

Eddie looked up when he slid into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow but also having that perfect beautiful smile on his face. “Hey! There you are! Where’s our girl, I thought we could go out and- mmmf!”

Richie cut off anymore loud things Eddie had to say by grabbing his husband by the face and smashing their lips together with the passion only a deranged man who had been tortured for hours and now had freedom could give. He pushed past Eddie’s weak sound of protest, sliding his tongue into Eddie’s mouth just to make sure this beautiful idiot stayed quiet.

How they ended up on the kitchen table making out like they were fucking sixteen again was anyone’s guess really, but when Eddie finally pulled away with a gasp and kept his hands on Richie’s chest to keep him away, Richie finally stopped.

“What the fuck, Richie?”

“You’re loud.”

Eddie’s face twisted in a weird mix of confusion and the start of irritation, which was honestly gorgeous on him with his cheeks so flushed. “Excuse me?”

Richie couldn’t help but let out a tired laugh and shook his head. “You’re loud, she’s finally asleep and I fucking need her to stay asleep.”

Understanding quickly made its way over Eddie’s face, his face softening as he reached out to cup Richie’s jaw and give him the softest kiss that felt like a balm on Richie’s hacked up nerves. “I’m guessing the Empress wasn’t a gentle and kind ruler today?”

“God, she was fucking awful, Eds!” Richie cried, loving how Eddie pulled him closer so he could rest his head on his shoulder. Eddie’s smell always seemed to calm him down. “She’s got to be getting a new tooth or something because I was ready to sell her to Satan.”

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Better not be just for a corn chip. That’s my daughter you’re thinking of selling.”

Richie grinned, giving a soft kiss to the exposed part of Eddie’s neck above his collar. “Um no. I would obviously raise the price to two corn chips. One for each of us.”

Eddie let out the laugh that Richie loved the most, where the laugh came from his stomach and was warm in every way. 

“Always thinking of me. Thanks, but I think maybe no selling our kid to the lord of darkness, I kind of love her.”

“Yeah.” Richie sighed. “Me too.”

Richie could help but groan when Eddie’s fingers moved into his hair and started to scratch gently. 

“How about a shower?” Eddie suggested. “I can help you wash your back and maybe help you get rid of some of that...stress.”

Richie popped up quickly, looking down at Eddie in excitement. “Are you offering sass, my good lad?”

“Not if you call me lad again.” Eddie replied deadpanned and then squawked when Richie picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. “Hey!”

“Gotta be quiet, Eds.” Richie warned. “Cause if she wakes up I’m putting you on rocking duty and you’ll still owe me that sass.”

“I’m going to sell you to Satan for two corn chips.”

He loved this man.Send Me A Prompt!

Taglist: @tinyarmedtrex @oldguybones @queen-sock @constantreaderfool @all-beef-no-derry @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @keeperofgnomes @s-s-georgie @mars-14 @inthebreadbinwrites @yikesitsrylee @thorn-harvester-ven @moonlightrichie @madi-main @nancynwheeler @edstozler @stylesmelon @reddieforlove @lifesucksheres20bucks @marsisaplanetyall @trashmouthnick @girasol-eddie @s-onora @rebecca-the-queen @purplepoisonedgem @darkobsidianquill @njess04

#writing prompt #reddie #richie x eddie #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #It (2017) #It (2019) #It (novel) #It Stephen King #Losers club #trashmouthnick

[breakingsomething]

d-day

basic summary: on august 15th, 1998, stuart pot wakes up from a year long coma in a tesco's parking lot.

trigger warnings: blood, gore, eye horror, car accidents, talk of comas, abuse and manipulation. if anything else needs to be tagged please let me know

the first thing he noticed was that everything fucking hurt.

his ears were ringing. a sharp, rising pitch squealing louder and louder, crescendo of pain to fuel the pounding headache that was echoing in his temples. his whole body stung. fuck, but it felt like something ripping into him with every movement he made. it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. why - why couldn't he open his eyes?

then it hit him. his eyes were open, but he couldn't see. am i blind? was his first panicked thought, and he blinked, feeling something wet and hot pouring from his eyes. he immediately knew it wasn't tears. a trembling hand rose to his face and swiped under his eyes, feeling - blood, thick blood, all over him. fuck, he was blind and in pain and soaked in blood.

then he felt around him, fingers brushing over the ground. gravel. wet gravel, actually, and just as he noticed that, his ears popped and he could heat the sudden thunder of pouring rain, all around him. washing the blood from his skin. he blinked again, trying to force himself into a sitting position even as his body screamed in agony. his vision began to turn less black and more red, something flickering in front of his eyes. ok, so he wasn't blind, but there was certainly something wrong with his vision. everything was blurry. tinted red. nothing looking quite right. it just made his head hurt more.

he had to stand up. the rain slicked his fingers as he tried to get a grip, and he stumbled, head rushing as he finally managed to get into a proper sitting position. it was another long moment before he could actually get to his feet, legs shaking badly along with the rest of him. thunder roared in his ears. he stretched his arms out, trying to get his balance, and then - his vision began to clear, just enough for him to see.

he was in what looked like a parking lot. very dark, lit only by dim streetlights, surrounded by a wire fence around a plain building that he couldn't properly see for a moment until he recognized it as a tesco. there was only one car that he could see, a banged up vauxhall astra about thirty feet away, engine still running. he… he couldn't remember how he got here. he couldn't remember anything, actually.

fuck, fuck. why couldn't he remember anything? think, think, think - but his memories were so jumbled, nothing making sense. he remembered standing in a foggy football pitch, waiting for a ball to come as he shivered. he remembered climbing a tree, squealing for his mother to look at him. he remembered a dim class full of unformed children, all looking at him. but he couldn't remember his own bloody name.

then it hit him. stuart. my name is stuart pot, i'm eighteen, and i live in crawley, england.

"oi! oi, dents! come here!"

someone was... calling him. when he squinted, he could see that someone was leaning out the smashed windshield of the astra, waving and yelling. "look at you!" they called, cackling maniacally. "just - wow! this is fantastic!"

stuart really didn't know what else to do other than attempt to walk, but his legs gave out almost immediately and he crumpled to the ground, whimpering in pain. now that he could see, the blood all over his body was very visible, staining his ripped white shirt and blue jeans. when he scrubbed at his face, the back of his hand came away bright red. he retched, head spinning even more. what the fuck had happened to him?

"oh, you goddamn nutter," he heard from right in front of him, and stuart was dimly aware of someone wrapping an arm around his waist and half lifting, half dragging him across the parking lot. his eyes closed for just a moment, and then suddenly - "come on, don't fall asleep again. sweet satan, that's all you've done for the last bloody year."

he snapped back to consciousness, gasping slightly and then wincing in pain as his lip bust open again with the movement. he was inside the car now, and cold air was tearing through the smashed windshield, and he shivered. His head was spinning.

"stuart," came a voice. a nasally english accent, from right beside him. "good to see you finally up."

stuart turned to look at him, blinking rapidly to get his eyes to focus. the man had greasy black hair in what looked like both a mullet and a bowl cut, muddy olive skin and hetrochromatic eyes, one black, one red. his nose was busted, and when he grinned, he showed crooked yellowy teeth. he was wearing a plain grey shirt, and around his neck glinted a golden, upside down cross.

"not much to say?" the man asked, snorting loudly. he tapped his painted black nails off the steering wheel. "i mean, i suppose i have to cut you the smallest bit of slack. you have just woken up from a year long coma, after all. it was me who woke you, by the way! really, you ought to be saying thanks!"

stuart opened his mouth, but his throat was so dry that all he could do was cough wildly into the air. the other man sighed. "bloody christ, at least cover your mouth - you're bleeding all over my car, dents, my car! here, i - don't have water, but i have some rum, if that'll do? drink up, gather your strength."

the man grabbed stuart by the chin and lifted a bottle to stuart's lips. the harsh smell hit him first, and he choked when the liquid met his lips, the taste so strong it burned the wounds on his mouth. he drank it regardless, despite being dizzyingly aware that alcohol wouldn't quench his thirst at all. "fuck," he coughed, and his vocal chords screamed as he spoke for the first time in god knows how long. "i - fuck."

the other man laughed. "what, you sleep for a year and when you wake up, all you can say is "fuck?" me too, pal, me too." he slapped stuart's back hard, making him cough again, blood dribbling down his chin. he grimaced, wiping it away, and then turned to study the mullet man again. he looked rather amused, his lips turned up in a sneer. "i take it you have questions?"

stuart could barely think, his mind moving sluggishly slow. eventually, he landed on one thought. "what… happened to your car?"

there was a pause before the man with the mullet spoke again. "i've just told you that you've been in a year long coma and you want to know what happened to my car?"

stuart hummed, unable to manage much else. the other man scoffed in disbelief. "you really wanna know? alright. you were sitting in the backseat without a seatbelt while i was doing 360s to impress some girls - speaking of, they're fucking gone, and i blame you for that - oh, yeah. and you flew through the windshield."

stuart took a minute to let that sink in. "i flew through the...the windshield?"

the man groaned impatiently. "satan's knickers, yes, are you thick? are you deaf as well as an idiot?" he rolled his eyes, glancing back out the window. stuart blinked again, still attempting to process what the absolute hell was happening.

"why 'm i alive, then?" stuart mumbled. the world was spinning, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the wonderfully cool dashboard. "should be dead if i fuckin'... flew out a - a window."

something clicked somewhere in the car, and the man made a strange rumbling sound deep in his throat. "dunno if you've noticed, faceache, but you're not exactly normal, are you. look at your bloody eyes! and when i say "bloody eyes," i mean "bloody eyes." take a peek in the mirror here, it's practically snapped off anyway."

stuart sat up again to see his face in the mirror that the other man had removed from the top of the car, and - fuck, he almost threw up. his face was ruined, scrape marks all over his cheeks and forehead, blood dripping from his nose and mouth and eyes, his eyes - his eyes were a near solid black, his pupils barely visible as red specks in the sea of darkness. his azure blue hair was tangled, matted with blood and dirt. he looked disgusting. he looked like a fucking zombie.

"not exactly gorgeous, but you're certainly something," stuart heard the other man say, and the mirror was taken away and placed on the dashboard. stuart's eyes followed it as it went. "you have a spark that i can't quite explain, you know? beautiful in your own way. tall and pretty, the spiky blue hair, the eyes… wow. you're something, dents. you're something."

"a zombie," stuart managed, and his stomach lurched. "am i dead? is this hell?"

a roaring laugh from the man. "not quite yet, pal, although we're very close. fucking crawley basically is hell, if you ask me." he brushed some glass off the dash to the floor, kicking it with his heeled boots before glancing back up stuart and wincing. "satan's arse, you are still bleeding."

"should i go to hospital?" stuart asked, furrowing his brow. "also, i… why was… why was i in a coma?"

the man laughed harshly. "sweet satan, there is it. took you long enough to ask the most obvious question. what do you remember?"

stuart thought back. memories flickered like scenes from a movie - places, people, words. "i remember… a shop. it sold, uh…" keyboards, guitar strings, picks, drum sticks. "music. a music shop. i, uh, i think i worked there."

the man leaned back in his seat, unfolding his legs so he could prop his feet up on the dashboard. "clever boy, dents. keep going."

stuart wiped his nose on his torn, used-to-be white shirt sleeve, goosebumps rising on the back of his neck. "i worked there as a… a saturday boy. i was saving up for, uh, something. what was it… don't remember. i liked keyboards. i think i played? and i remember…"

he remembered screeching tires and smashing glass and dark shadows falling over him and screaming customers and not being able to move, frozen to the spot, eyes wide, the sunlight blocked out by the black underside of the car, closer, closer, a cry tearing from his own throat, someone in the front seat -

"i got hit by a car," stuart said, and his voice was hoarse, eyes wide as he remembered. "someone drove a car through the shop window and - hit me."

"mm-hm," the other man confirmed, nodding. "and how long ago was that?"

stuart… couldn't remember.

"a year ago," said the man, and he leaned back further, the tops of his boots sticking out the windshield. "the driver put you in a year long coma. permanently damaged one of your eyes, too, gave you an eight ball fracture. although it seems that after you flew out the car just there, you've now got two matching ones. very sorry."

he didn't sound sorry.

stuart took in a breath, digging his nails into the car seat in an effort to stay conscious. "i've been in a coma for a year, right. got hit by a car, half blind… woke up when you threw me out the window?" he looked to the other man for confirmation, and he nodded. stuart swallowed, licking his lips. "right. why am i… why… am i here now?"

the man scratched his nose, staring out the car window into the black night sky and at the building behind them. "the driver of the car that hit you - a man named murdoc niccals, real fantastic name - he was arrested and tried. got 30,000 hours of community service, or 1,250 days, if you will. along with that, the poor bastard was sentenced to look after the comatose boy he hit with his vauxhall astra for ten hours a week. one day he drove stuart out to a tesco parking lot and was performing tricks with his car to impress some women and little stuart, who murdoc had forgotten to buckle in, flew out the windshield and the rest was history."

they went silent. a bad feeling began to sink in stuart's stomach, making him feel sicker.

"what's... your name?" he said eventually, his voice small with fear.

the man grinned sharply. "murdoc niccals."

the only sound was a streetlamp outside flickering softly, until stuart suddenly threw the door open and threw up on the pavement, vomit just barely missing splattering the door.

"shit!" he heard murdoc swear from inside, hissing softly as he climbed over to take stuart's shoulder. stuart shrugged him off, heat burning his face. "don't be sick on my car, fucking hell -"

"you hit me with a car?" stuart gagged, coughing and wiping his mouth. "you? and i've just been - sitting here, talking to you - is this a joke to you or something?"

murdoc cackled, pulling stuart back into the car. "no, but it certainly was fun watching you as you realized. you went dead pale, mate, i thought you were gonna pass out. hey, you don't need to worry now. you're awake, so you're fine."

stuart suddenly turned and tried to grab murdoc's arm, but was too weak to do much other than brush against him limply. murdoc didn't even try to stop him, simply smirking. stuart fucking hated him. "you did this to me," he practically sobbed, and his eyes were burning painfully, along with the rest of him. everything hurt. "you - why - i'm just - i don't understand, it hurts, it hurts, i don't understand."

murdoc suddenly reached for stuart, making the boy flinch, but he just wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in to rest against his shoulder. "don't need to worry now," he said softly. "you're alright."

and stuart hated how he melted into him, sobbing into the man's chest, his blood pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his veins. he was scared and exhausted, and everything hurt, and he was just so… done. he was disgusted with himself and shook with the self hate, but still didn't pull away. he just needed some reassurance that he was still real. that this wasn't a fucked up nightmare.

"i have a question," murdoc said, and pushed stuart away even as he trembled, protesting softly. his eyes were yellowing, like his teeth, his skin sallow and nearly grey. stuart hated how he wanted to hug him again. "stuart pot. what a name. you worked in a music shop, so i take it you play?"

stuart nodded tearfully, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. "'m best at keyboard, but i also play melodica, and, uh, guitar. can play a bit of bass, some drums, but i'm not very good at them." he paused. "i also play banjo."

murdoc rolled his eyes. "alright, we get it, you're a one man show. i bet you got all the ladies in crawley, eh, dents? making them weak in the knees with your bloody sea shanties, i'm sure."

stuart scowled, leaning back against the car seat. his mouth tasted of copper and bile, and thinking about it made him want to throw up again. "sod off. i have a name, by the way. you said it already. why dents, of all things?"

murdoc tapped the side of his head with a grin. "dents, cause of your two dents? in your head? blimey, you're not the brightest bulb in the box, are you, stewie?" he cackled harshly, shaking his head. "you need a new name if you're gonna be in my band."

stuart's lips parted slightly. "i'm sorry, what?"

murdoc threw up his hands, groaning loudly. "yes, that's why i'm asking what instruments you play! sweet satan alive, you're killing me, double dents." he paused and shook his head. "nuh-uh. awful name, crossing that one off the list. moving on -" he looked stuart right in the eye. "can you sing?"

stuart considered. "i… guess. yeah. i like to. don't know how good i am, but i like it."

murdoc flashed a grin. "perfect," he growled, and the look in his eyes made stuart lean back in panic. "you'll be fantastic as my frontman, then."

stuart immediately shook his head. "no. i'm not - i'm not interested, thank you."

murdoc rolled his eyes. "oh, no. you don't get a choice. we've still got about 20,000 hours together with me as your caretaker, two-dents. besides, what else are you gonna do? go back to work? you were let go. see your family? they don't want to even look at you anymore. go to college? ha, like you've got the brains." he raised his eyebrows, waggling them unappealingly. "come on, give it up. join me."

stuart sank lower in his seat, something cold burning in his chest. "what do you play?"

"bass," murdoc said immediately. he stuck out his tongue and mimed playing, kicking the remaining glass off the windshield. "sold my bloody soul to play. satan himself gave me my instrument - el diablo. most beautiful bass in the world, if you ask me."

stuart couldn't tell how much of that was a joke. he sighed, wiping more blood off his forehead. his migraine was only getting worse the longer he was conscious.

"if you'll join me," murdoc continued, and god, stuart wished he'd shut up, "which you will - i'll show you everything i know about the music business. which is a lot. i've been in a few bands before in my life. ever heard of "murdoc's burning sensations?"

stuart shook his head.

"no? you sure? come on, we were famous in the early nineties."

"sorry," stuart said. "i don't know."

murdoc muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like "kids these days."

"i'm still just confused," stuart said softly. his head was spinning. "i… i don't feel well. what even happened in the year i was out?"

"mhm, not much," murdoc said nonchalantly, twirling a hand in the air. "we're in bloody crawley. what do you expect to have happened? tim who bartends at the sitting duck got a divorce from his bird who's thirty years younger than him? nothing happened, no one missed you. there's no flowers or get well soon cards waiting for you. no one gives a goddamn shit."

stuart stared out the shattered windshield, eyes unfocused.

"no one cares about you," he heard murdoc continue. "no one loves you. no one has even thought about you for a long, long time. you're alone. why do you think i'm the one caring for you?"

they went very silent.

"if i join your band," stuart said quietly. "what does that mean for me?"

murdoc sighed, pulling his legs down and bringing them up to his chest. "you leave this place behind and come with me. shouldn't be too hard, eh? what's left for you here but knobs and bellends?" he suddenly took one of stuart's hands. "so what do you say?

what does he say, indeed.

"where do we go from here?"

murdoc smiled, and it wasn't quite genuine, more menacing. more a hint of what's to come.

"my place, first," he said, and started the engine, switching the gears. stuart jumped, scrambling for a seatbelt, heart already racing. "then… the world, babey!"

"the world," stuart echoed, clenching his fists in his lap. "are you legally allowed to drive in a car with half the windows missing?"

"nope," murdoc said, pulling the car out of park. "if it makes you feel any better, i don't have a license."

"that makes me feel a lot better, thanks."

"any time, 2D."

stuart blinked. "2D?"

murdoc grunted, reaching down to pick a bottle up off the floor and take a swig. "short for two-dents. you can sign it like the number "2" and then the letter "d." you like it? i think it sounds bloody fantastic, not going to lie."

stuart considered. he… he was leaving his life behind, wasn't he? leaving everything. might as well. might as well change. might as well be someone else.

"i think," the boy said, testing the waters. "i like it."

"good," murdoc said. "ready for your future?"

2D nodded, ignoring how his head pounded. "definitely."

they pulled out the parking lot, glass sliding off the front of the car as they hit a pothole. 2D leaned back in his seat, letting his eyes close, listening to this man he'd just met, this man who'd hit him with a car, listening to him chatter and drink as he drove them out into the street. and 2D wondered if he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

#gorillaz #boop writes #stuart pot #2D gorillaz #murdoc niccals