#exhausting ! but fucking fun as shit Wow

[ikishima]

.

#i wish i could just [redacted] #like i'm genuinely so exhausted. there is no point to anything anymore #i can choose between constant endless suffering or [redacted] #so the second thing is sounding pretty fucking good right now and honestly every single day of my life since i was about 11 #its fun that literally nothing helps and i only get worse. yay! #its fun that asking for help is pointless. yay! #its fun that those two prev tags apply to multiple areas of my life. yay! #its fun that no one wants to help anyway. yay! #its fun that no one gives a shit about me unless they're getting something out of it. yay! #its fun that i have no choice but to be completely broken because every attempt to heal is met with more trauma. yay! #its fun that i wasted most of my life with people who would genuinely sell me for a corn chip. yay! #its fun that i have given everything i have over and over again because i never learn and nothing is ever good enough for anyone. yay! #its fun its really really fun i hope i can stay in this world for ever and ever wow wow wow!!! #negative

[running-in-the-dark]

a super fun thing that my brain is really good at is hearing a random fact and remembering it forever. but only if it's bad :)

#the reason I'm thinking about that right now: I wish I had never read that having a crease on your earlobe means you're more likely to have #heart disease. #scared me so much that I read a whole paper about it #but it's been years now so I don't remember the details #just that that's a thing apparently #and guess what my brain does with that information? oh yeah of course I have to obsessively look at the ears of everyone now! does that #do anything helpful? nope! just makes me very very anxious :) #it's just like when I was a kid and I got nightmares about scurvy every time I didn't eat a potato for a week. #like. wow I could be so smart and everything if my brain wasn't constantly focused on random bullshit that is completely irrelevant 😭 #also this thing specifically: I've always been weirdly fascinated by ears and this made that a million times worse and also very scary. #like ooh that's a nice ear :) oh no death exists and this person is going to die and #yeah it sucks. #specifically choosing not to mention any names in this context because my god this shit is on my mind all the time already I really don't #need to say it where anyone can see #it's embarrassing enough #though anyone who has looked at my blog in the past month already knows who I'm talking about. #like. I really shouldn't allow myself to like anyone over the age of like. idk 45. #it's so unbelievably exhausting. #but annnyway I'm totally normal and fine :) #oh yeah I also have creases on my earlobes lol so that definitely added to the scariness (and THEN my mother randomly mentioned recently #that EVERYONE on her side of the family had/has heart disease. bitch WHAT the fuck. anyway so yeah guess we know what's gonna kill me #haha isn't that fun :) ) #ALSO the fact that my memory is very very bad means that I remember absolutely none of the details about shit like this. so it could very #well be completely irrelevant and harmless but i wouldn't remember that part. #and I think even if I found out more it wouldn't help. it's been an obsession for so long. I've never had one go away that I've had for #this long. so. guess I'm just fucked. #personal

[intertexts-moving]

hate it when disabilities are like. u know. debilitating. etc.

#have been trying to avoid thinking ab it or whatever for a while but wow!!! hate it!! #trying to drag my brain into being nice to me like it's a fucking dog on a leash. -_- #didn't get around to doing anything fun like art or design or even fucking opening csp today which well ive barely #done that all fucking summer because of the other commitments and also the disabilities too but like. idk. sucks man.!! #& then i'm like. oh my goddd this was ur 1 free time chance to work on art. and u just sat around playing magic & listening to video essays #slow clap.& then i have to be like jesus fucking christ you have been miserable and stressed and so fucking busy and exhausted all fucking #summer with ZERO time to urself it is ok and expected to not do shit if u havr the chance!!!! however it still sucks that i didn't do as #as id have liked :( #idk. feelsbadman! anyway i am so sleepy tired but i really should take a shower b4 i go sleep. hhggbh. maybe. #txt #neg

[gender-euphowrya]

laser tag is SO FUN

#exhausting ! but fucking fun as shit Wow #tried it for the first time and ohhh #the music the darkness the maze-like room the tension #the way you can’t know where someone will come from or what’s around corners #we had 12 players in 2 teams of 6 so it was p intense #it felt like an irl fps #i was fucking almost crouching and hugging walls #walking around with my back hidden peaking in the little windows hiding in corners waiting for someone to pass #i fucking loved it #i didn’t go for another round because MM TIRED #this shit had me sweaty #but damn i had so much fun i’d love to do ot again some day #need to get me 12 friends asap #stuff that both i and jesus christ have said Exhibit A

[baby-tini]

Reader sees Dabi in an alley by accident and tries to get away quietly but Dabi sees her and brings her into the alley. He has her up the wall with a hand firmly around her neck but not chocking her but enough to threaten her. He asks for her personal info and takes pictures of her for reference just in case anything happens. And he looks at her more closely and he's like wow she's always more pretty. So he thinks for a bit and makes a deal you get out in one piece if you let me fuck you. The reader already knew he was giving her a false sense of choice so she agrees. Dabi likes her submissiveness so he gave her the choice of the location to fuck. And while she is thinking Dabi is already so handsy with her. Kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her body. He's like 'if you don't pick quick im fucking you here in the alley'. And she eventually picks a love hotel not too far from them. Once they were done fucking it's the next morning and Dabi is gone but she checks her phone messages and there's a lot of photos and videos of them together in different positions and a note at the end

See you next time Doll~

💙Dabi

(the blackmail really gets me fr😭)

TW: DUBCON, blackmail, noncon pictures and video taking, a hint of coercion. Work was always so boring, you wanted something fun. There was nothing fun about serving drunk men alcohol as they thanked you with raunchy comments. Trying to grope you while you were just doing your job. Complaining about their "bitch wife" in a drunken slur then passing out. The money was good though.. and your co-workers weren't awful. But that really didn't mean anything in the end.

It was too much, you just needed a cigarette and then you could finish your shift then go home and sleep the rest of the night away. It was warm outside, pretty too. Sky full of different shades of blue, no clouds in sight. It was quiet surprisingly, considering you weren't in the best part of town. The attacks from the League of Villains ramping up by tenfold, charred bodies appearing in multitudes. Consumed by beautiful azul flames licking away at ash. Some were lucky though, if you could even call it that, some people were burned so bad they were disfigured, leaving ugly third degree burns on their face and arms. Hopefully they weren't in this part of the city yet.

But then again, the heros were on their ass.. so it's possible. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh out, closing your eyes for a couple seconds before you hear footsteps. Your eyes snap open as your head snaps to the sound. There's a man in a black tattered coat, he looks exhausted. Purple burnt skin attached to healthy skin by staples. Tattered clothes with mangy boots.

Holy shit, it can't be... they shouldn't be in this part of the city, not this soon anyway. You have too get out, now. You try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't be quiet wearing heels. You mistook a step, catching the eye of the assailant. His piercing blue eyes shoot up towards you, a sick grin crawling up on his lips. As he walks closer, stumbling back you trip over your heels. He chuckles at you, grabbing your arms too lift you up, "easy there doll, what's your problem, hm? You scared?" You swallow down the dry air, shaking your head at him as you try to shake off his grip. But his hold on you just tightens, reminds you of a boa constrictor, trying too keep his prey at bay.

He presses you into the wall with an-unassuming amount of strength, pressing into you as he leans down towards your ear. "Where you goin, doll? I'm not gonna hurt you... if you comply that is." Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod into his chest, trying too control your breathing. You inhale deeply before stuttering out a response. "What did you, uh.. what did you want from me..?" There's a sniffle between your words.

"Mmm, yeah, need something real bad baby, think you can help me, hm?" You swallow down your spit, hesitantly nodding at him. "I- uh... I think, what did you need Sir.." He chuckles at that, running his nose up and down your cheek, inhaling deeply into your hair. "Sir, huh? You into that dolly?" You feel your fingers twitch against his tattered coat as you shake your head at him.

"N-no.. I just- I don't know your name..so," he leans back at that. Eyeing you up and down he grins, "that's cute baby, you really don't know who I am? That makes me a little sad honestly, but it's Dabi... I like Sir much better though, what do you think?" You swallow again, your right hand rubbing up and down your left arm, as your eyes look to the side. Rolling his eyes, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Nah ah, don't look away from me, I'm not done talking to you bitch." Licking your lips, you swallow before looking up at him again. "There you go, you gonna behave for? Gonna help me with my... big problem babydoll, hm? Say, "Yes Sir." Your left hand twitches before you nod up at him, "Yes Sir, i'll help you with your... big problem." He hums at you before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and smirking at you. "I knew you would, you're so good, huh? Gonna let you pick the location cause' you're being so sweet for me... go 'head." You sniffle before licking your lips and nodding again. He hums, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip. "I wanna... can we go to the love hotel.. it's only a couple blocks away.. I want my first time to be.. a little special." He grins, pulling you towards his side with an arm wrapped around you. "Ahh, little slut's a virgin, wouldn't 've guessed." You try to shuffle away at that but he just tightens his hold around you. "C'mon baby, I was just joking, I'll behave from now on, promise," he snickers. It take's a minute to get there, with Dabi trying to get there as quickly as possible... his problem continuously growing as you walk with him. The hotel is pretty run down, smelling of weed and sex. The painting is peeling from the walls as women and men alike are staggering around and theirs people making out just outside the hotel, grinding and sliding their hands down the others clothes. "This is where you wanted your special moment?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he throws a wad of bills on the check-in desk. You huff at him, "it's better then some sleazy alleyway, surrounded by heroin needles." You retort, grabbing the key from him and walking to the room. He follows closely behind not failing to be as touchy as possible while you open the door. He ushers you into the room as he pins you against the wall and getting to work marking up your neck.

You try to slow your heart rate as your hands ball in his shirt, with a hiss he grinds his cock into your thigh. Nipping at your collar bone and running his tongue over your jugular as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as you run your hands up his shirt. He chuckles into your neck, pulling your shirt over your head and sucking your nipples through your bra. He laughs against your chest when you let out a choked whimper, clawing at his stomach. He huffs before snapping your bra from the back and sucking nipple and playing with the other, pinching it and leaving hickeys between your tits. He grabs you by your hair, pulling you towards the bed and throwing on it face first. Your breasts flat against the rough-feeling mattress, as you try to get up, he pushes you back against it, a hand holding pressed into the curve of your lower back. "Nah ah, fucking stay.. don't need you IDing me now princess." You breathe out softly and nod into the sheets, your body relaxing against the bed while he pulls your pants and panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. You hear him groan from behind you, he runs a warm hand over your ass before slapping it a couple times and chucking when you squeeze your legs shut. "Dirty little bitch, you want it real bad, yeah? Yeah you fuckin' do, say please and I might fuck you with the tip bitch." You whine into the sheets, salty tears leaking down your cheeks and staining the sheets. He chuckles, taking a hand and pushing your head down into the mattress as his other hand unzips and takes off his pants, his boxers being pulled down in the process, he spreads your pussylips apart before leaning down and spitting on your clit, before fucking his tip into your cunt and groaning when he feels you tighten around him. Your pussy feels so good, warm and tight, just how he likes it. He fucks into you harder, using a hand to stabilize himself next to your head as he fucks into you harder. He's so big, you can feel him in your stomach, it hurts a little, stretching so wide to accommodate him as he growls in your ear. You're so deep into it, your head so fogged up that you don't hear the camera shutters or feel him spread you wide as he films the two of you locked together. He fucks you good, you'll give him that, you don't remember passing out as he fucked into you, waking up to your familiar ringtone of your phone as you sit up, breasts spilling over the blanket as you lean towards the bedside table... 'Dabi' left you a text, "I had a fun night doll, I know you did too.. or else you wouldn't 've passed out on my cock, It was good wasn't it, I know it was, don't worry you can tell me in person when I come see you again. You're the best pussy I've had in a while if I'm being honest. Pretty wet pussy too, It's like a hug for my dick, if you will lol. Also, don't even think about trying to get away .. unless you want these getting leaked to your boss and family pretty baby." A couple seconds later six pictures and four videos pop up. Now it all makes sense... he wasn't worried about being Ided, you had already seen his face, plue he gave you his name... you're screwed literally.

#baby-tini #anon ask #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #dabi x you #bnha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi bnha #dabi #mha dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi smut #mha smut #bnha smut #mha dabi smut #bnha dabi smut #touya smut #league of villains

[defectivevillain]

a heavenly, hellish housemate

pairing: Adam/Reader

The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.***

summary: “If you’re my guardian angel, then why are you so…?” you break off. “Devilishly handsome?” The angel winks. “I was going to say ‘sleazy,’” you frown. “Okay, that’s not the right way to say ‘Wow, thank you so much for saving my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Adam, you’re so sexy and badass.'” He scoffs.

After Adam acts up yet again, Sera decides to assign him guardian angel duty. Adam is pissed, but he goes along with it and starts to look out for you: the human he’s tasked with protecting. He has no intention of ever actually meeting you, but when he saves you from death, he finds himself stuck on Earth with you.

warnings: near-death experiences, emotional manipulation, suggestive humor

author's notes: ***The reader is referred to as “dude,” and “bitch” (you can thank adam for that, lmao) but i typically use those terms with the intent of them being gender-neutral… The reader also uses cologne (but, again, smelling nice isn’t gender-specific, i don’t think…)

This fic won’t be canon compliant. Also, some of the story itself is going to be underdeveloped—in the sense that I still want this to be a “oneshot,” not a multi-chapter fic. Some big-scale things like how Adam gets to Earth and how he will return to Heaven are overlooked.

anyways, onto the fun stuff:

It’s been a long day, you think to yourself as you walk down the sidewalk. Work wasn’t particularly eventful today, but you’re still rather exhausted. You’re contemplating what you’ll fix for dinner when you see a car approaching out of the corner of your eye. You blink and your heart races as you realize it’s veering off the road and heading right towards you. It’s going far too fast and suddenly you’re frozen, trapped as the car speeds towards the sidewalk and heads straight for you in painful slow-motion. At the last possible moment, you’re shoved to the side with unnatural momentum. You fall to the ground and the car crashes into the wall—right about where you had been walking mere moments ago. You stare at it in disbelief. 

You have scrapes on your knees and you get the feeling you’ll have bruises on your elbows and arms, but otherwise, you’re unharmed. It’s a miracle—there’s no other way to explain it. By all means, you should have died in that car crash. You weren’t able to move in time… until that weird sensation, as if someone unseen had just shoved you out of the way. 

“Don’t get paid enough for this shit,” someone nearby mutters. You’re about to get up when a large shadow overtakes your vision. You look up to find a figure cloaked in white staring down at you; after a second look, you realize that he’s wearing a mask over his face. He’s looking down at you with a strange combination of interest and scrutiny.

“…Hello?” You choke out, once you manage to accept just what you’re seeing. This guy—whoever he is—is ridiculously tall and looks entirely unfamiliar. In fact, he doesn’t look human at all—he has a bright halo over his head and wings extending from his shoulders.

He stares at you in disbelief when he notices that you’re looking back at him. “You can see me?” He asks, clearly surprised. “What the fuck?!” 

“Are you my guardian angel or something?” You ask, unable to hide your suspicion. You never thought guardian angels were even real; and, even if you were to think about it, you would expect a “guardian angel” to be clothed in blinding white. This guy has grey horns, golden wings, and a positively dangerous smirk. He does have that white halo, though… 

“Ugh, fucking fine,” the guy scoffs, clearly annoyed. You’re not quite sure how he’s sick of this conversation already, when it hasn’t been more than a few moments. “Yes, I am. You’re welcome, baby.” 

“Okay,” you remark, still a little unconvinced. Admittedly, the pet-name throws you for a loop—especially when you realize the guy is rather attractive, with shaggy, dusky brown hair and gleaming golden eyes. Averting your eyes, you take a look around you, only to find that everyone seems too preoccupied with the car crash to notice you talking to this strange “angel”—if that’s really what he is. Or, even more frightening… you may be the only one able to see him. You try to collect your thoughts and one question immediately comes to mind. “If you’re my guardian angel, then why are you so…?” You trail off. 

“Devilishly handsome?” He winks. 

“I was going to say ‘sleazy,’” you frown. 

The guy crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, that’s not the right way to say ‘ wow, Adam, thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re so sexy and badass.’” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a few moments, before deciding to push yourself to your feet. Even when you’re standing in front of him, the height difference between you both is stark. You squint at him for a second. “Are you sure you’re an angel?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. The guy seems a little too profane to be from Heaven. But, who knows? 

“Damn right,” the guy asserts confidently, blowing your assumptions right out of the water. “I’m the angel. Adam’s the name, pulling bitches is the game.” 

While you want to focus on that horrid last part of his statement, your attention is captured by his name: Adam. Is he the first human—that Adam? “You’re the Adam?” You question. “Like, Adam and Eve?”

The smug grin on the angel’s face promptly vanishes. “Ugh, this was going so well,” Adam groans raspily. “Don’t fucking mention my ex-wife, dude. She’s a real piece of work.”

“If you say so,” you acquiesce. This entire conversation is giving you whiplash. You wonder just how you got yourself into this situation. And while you’re grateful that this guy saved you, you hadn’t expected to be stuck in an interaction with him. You really just want to go home—this day has been a nightmare, and you want nothing more than to jump into bed and sleep. 

“I do say so,” he preens. Wow, this guy’s ego is extremely inflated. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone so cocky and arrogant before. 

“Well… Thanks for saving my life, I guess?” You remark uneasily, taking a casual half-step backwards and hoping he doesn’t notice. You’ve been patiently waiting for the conversation to end, but somehow it’s still going—and you’re nearly at the point of just walking away and ignoring him. 

“You’re fucking welcome, shrimp,” Adam responds. You ignore the dig. The guy is unnaturally tall—far surpassing the height of even the tallest humans. He must be eight or nine feet tall, at least. 

“Well, I have to get home, so…” You give an awkward wave and turn to walk away. You don’t make it for more than a few steps before you notice a presence behind you. Adam is following you, you realize with dread. “Um, what are you doing?” You ask. 

“Following you, dipshit,” he scoffs, as if the question is stupid. “This has never happened before. I don’t know how to get back up to Heaven yet.”

“Great.” You groan, resolving yourself to a chaotic day. 

Why am I doing this again? You ask yourself as you stare at the angel walking around your apartment. You don’t realize that you utter that question aloud until you hear Adam speak. “Because you’re nice and hot and smart and totally my type?” 

“Nice try,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and resolutely pretending that his remark doesn’t make your heart race. He’s the type of person to flirt with anyone—hell, anything —that has a pulse. “Flattery won’t get you very far.” 

“It’s true, though” Adam insists confidently, “And you can take my word for it, ‘cause there are some real nasty bastards up in Heaven.” You watch as he continues to inspect your apartment, opening your cabinets and drawers and ultimately having zero respect for your privacy. You’re suddenly immensely grateful that you don’t have much to hide—your apartment is pretty ordinary-looking. 

“So… when do you go back?” You not-so-subtly ask, as he continues looking around without permission. 

“Trying to kick me out?” He grins, seeing through your rather pathetic attempt to hide your irritation. Adam shuts the drawer he was searching through and shrugs. “Not sure. I’ve never been to the human realm before; this shit blows.” He punctuates the statement with a heavy eye-roll. 

“That’s not helpful,” you frown concernedly. It may be no big deal for him—he has all the time in the world to return to Heaven, considering he’s already in the afterlife. But you have a life, a job, and things to do. You don’t have the time or energy (or patience) to stumble through reorganizing your entire life just to fit an angel in it. 

“I don’t fucking know!” He practically screeches, a sudden switch into extreme defensiveness. Adam must notice you watching him, because he turns around and meets your gaze. “For once. Maybe even the first time. But I know everything else, so don’t get used to it.” He’s quick to add. You’re starting to worry that your eyes will get stuck in the back of your head—from how much you’ve been rolling your eyes at his inane comments. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass?” You mutter darkly. 

“Without lubrication, yeah.” You don’t bother dignifying that comment with a response. You instead shake your head relentingly and tell him you have a pullout bed on the couch, to which he complains incessantly before you offer sleeping on the street as an alternative. 

Still processing everything that happened, you tell Adam you need to be alone and lock yourself in your room. Just a few hours ago, you were living your life as normal. Your guardian angel saved your life, but now he’s living here with you. You don’t remember signing up for any of this. You rub a hand over your face and try to fight off the exhaustion that has been setting in since you left work. 

Eventually, it’s late enough for you to go to bed—and you fall asleep hoping that you’ll wake tomorrow morning to an empty apartment, blissfully free of a certain angel. 

But the universe is not so merciful, and you see Adam sleeping on the couch when you walk out of your room and towards the kitchen. You try to move quietly—so as to not disturb him—but he must be a light sleeper, because suddenly he’s up on his feet and chastising you for being too loud. You head to work already feeling tired, which doesn’t bode well for the rest of your day. 

The longer Adam stays at your apartment, the more you learn about him. For example, you learn that Adam is an incessant flirt (although that was clear from the first few moments you met). You also learn that he enjoys scaring the absolute shit out of you. Sometimes, you’ll get home from work and find yourself in an empty apartment. You’ll forget that you’re housing a goliath of a “guardian angel,” until said angel seeps out of the shadows and screams at you, cackling maniacally as you regain your breath. 

Adam isn’t a great roommate, either—he’s messy, doesn’t have very many boundaries, and has no qualms about invading your personal space. He has a ton of annoying habits.  Even so, you suppose it’s not the worst situation you could find yourself in. Plus, as much as you hate to admit it, it’s kind of nice to have company when you get home from a particularly long day at work. You can vent to him about some dumbass you work with and he won’t hesitate to insult them with you. 

Although… Adam doesn’t pay you. He doesn’t have any human money. You’re not even sure if Heaven has currency, and you keep forgetting to ask. All you know is that he’s living here for free—practically mooching off of you. And, for the first few weeks, it really does feel like he’s taking advantage of your kindness—as he eats all of your groceries, never cleans up after himself, constantly plays your Nintendo Switch without asking you for permission… The list goes on. 

After more than three weeks of that rather grating behavior, you sit him down at the table in the dining room and try to establish some ground rules. If he is going to continue staying with you, he has to: (1) clean up after himself, which includes everything from washing the clothes you bought for him at the thrift store to doing his dishes; (2) write what he wants on the grocery list, so you won’t come home to an empty fridge and pantry; (3) use his own separate account for your Switch, which you so graciously made for him; and (4) limit how many times he scares you to a few times per week. 

You think these demands are perfectly reasonable, but judging from the way he stares at you for a moment before laughing in your face, Adam has never respected someone else’s rules. You don’t break eye contact with him, despite wanting nothing more than to look away from his increasingly intimidating gaze. Eventually, Adam must sense that you’re not budging on these points, because he mutters something about bossy landlords—to which you snarkily remind him that landlords have paying tenants, and that he is living under your roof for free. He shuts up after that. 

After that conversation, things get better. Slowly but surely, Adam begins to adjust his behavior to be moderately less annoying. You get the feeling that being annoying is one of his core personality traits, but at the very least you’ve prevented that from affecting your lifestyle. Unsurprisingly, the angel doesn’t follow all of the rules perfectly. Ironically, it seems that Rule No. 4—limiting how often he scares the life out of you—is the most difficult one for him to follow. The fucker is constantly appearing behind you and ripping the breath from your chest. But, you respect that Adam is trying, and the two of you gradually learn to live with one another. 

But things come to an unfortunate boiling point one evening as you’re getting ready to go out for dinner. You’ve attempted to tame your hair into something slightly more styled than normal and you’ve used your rather pricey cologne [a miniscule amount of it, admittedly]. You have your keys, your pepper spray in case your date goes awry, and your phone. You’re inspecting your closet in an attempt to decide on an outfit when you hear Adam enter the room. 

You turn around to face him, realizing that he looks skeptical as his gaze inspects your form. “Where the hell are you going?” He asks, evidently noticing that you’re preparing to leave. You suppose it is rather unusual for you to be leaving home in the evening like this—typically, once you leave work, you stay home for the rest of the night. 

“I’m going on a date,” you respond, picking out a shirt and pants and folding them over your arm. 

“A date?” Adam scoffs. “Your ugly ass? Please.”

You don’t bother acknowledging that remark, instead moving to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth, before walking back out to your room. You’ll just pretend that your giant angelic roommate—the one who still doesn’t pay rent, by the way—isn’t here. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far, because Adam continues speaking the moment you exit the bathroom. 

“Hey, there isn’t-” Adam begins, turning around to face you. Whatever he means to say fades to obscurity as he stares at you. For a painful moment, the two of you are trapped in a tense silence. Just as it grows to be unbearable, Adam scoffs. “This is for him? Fucking Tom?” Wait… How does he know your date’s name? You squint at him suspiciously, before realizing that he’s holding your phone and evidently looking through your messages. 

“Hey, give me that-” You say with wide eyes, reaching for your phone. 

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”Adam recites, scrolling through the messages from the guy you’re going on a date with. There’s a cruel amusement gleaming in his eyes. “There’s no fucking way.” He cackles. 

You stare at him in shocked silence, forced to listen as he rips apart this guy you haven’t even met yet. “Are you done yet?” You eventually ask, when it seems like he’s losing steam. “I have to go, give me that-” You hiss, annoyed and frustrated. His grip is inhumanly tight as he clutches your phone; you have no idea how he hasn’t broken it yet. 

“No way, sweetheart,” he grins, a malicious and cruel smile. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years ,” he says, continuing to scroll through your conversation, “Besides, why are you meeting with this guy if you don’t even know him in the first place?”

That’s the whole point of the date: to get to know Tom. You try to take a deep breath and remain calm. “You’re my ‘guardian angel,’ not my mother,” you feel the need to say, when his eye contact is growing a bit too intense and prolonged. 

“Wow, strange, that doesn’t sound like gratitude,” Adam frowns, tapping a finger against his chin. 

You grit your teeth. Unless you’re able to sneak around this nine-foot fucking demon looming in the doorway—because really, he’s not acting like much of an angel right now—you’re going to miss your date. You try to make a grab for your phone one more time, but Adam’s grip remains steady. There’s no way you’re getting it back, judging from both his immensely strong grasp and the determined smirk on his face. 

Defeat sets in, followed by prickling embarrassment and fury. “You know what?” You say, your voice cracking in your frustration. “Fine. Fine. You win. Okay?” You leave your room and head out to the living room, desperate for some privacy. Adam either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he follows behind you. You feel tears falling down your face before you can stop them. You feel so helpless. This guy swooped into your life and fucked everything up, just for his own amusement. 

“Are you crying because of that loser?” Adam asks, surprise coloring his voice. 

“I’m crying because of you!” You seethe, glaring at him. You wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve. “You ruined my night. And I genuinely wanted to get to know Tom, but you’ve fucked that up too!” This is like an emotionally manipulative relationship, you think to yourself, but without the relationship. So really, it’s just emotionally manipulative. You don’t give Adam a chance to defend himself, instead pushing past him and going back into your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You flop onto your bed and curl onto your side, unable to stop the tears sliding down your cheeks. You know it’s a somewhat insignificant thing to be upset about, but you can’t help it. The way Adam just completely decimated your plans, with all the confidence of someone who has never once been questioned, someone who has always been looked up to and venerated and-

You huff and push yourself back up to a sitting position, grabbing the nearby tissue box and blowing your nose. You’re still furious with Adam, of course, but you’d rather just not acknowledge him right now. Even the mere thought of him now is enough to send new tears slipping down your cheeks. 

You lie awake a bit longer than usual that night, feeling unspeakably restless. Frustrated, you stare up at the ceiling and try to think about something other than the horrible evening you just had. Eventually, you drift off into sleep—albeit with dry eyes and anger still prickling at your core. 

Against all odds, you manage to have a relatively restful sleep, and you wake to the smell of pancakes wafting through your apartment. That immediately concerns you, and you get out of bed with fear drumming in your chest. Did you leave the stove on? Is  something burning? You stumble out to the kitchen, only to find Adam standing with his back to you, looking down at a griddle that you don’t remember purchasing. 

“Adam?” You ask, blinking traces of sleep from your eyes. Adam stiffens and turns around, an uncharacteristically weak smile flickering on his face before it’s replaced with his trademark wide grin. 

“Hey,” he remarks, turning around to flip a few pancakes. When Adam turns back around to look at you, you realize that the apron he’s wearing says Kiss the Cook. You feel a disbelieving laugh crawl out of your throat before you can stop it. 

“Where’d you get that apron?” You ask, knowing damn well you don’t own an apron like that. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he grins, which naturally just worries you more. You take a deep breath and go back to your room to change. When you return to the kitchen, there’s a stack of pancakes on the counter—evidently for you. You grab a few pancakes, a plate, and utensils, before settling at the table and beginning to eat. You keep yourself occupied throughout the meal with Youtube videos, but you’re still unable to avoid the tension settling in the air. 

When you finish eating, you do your dishes before thanking Adam for the meal. Before you can retreat back to the solitude of your room, Adam takes a deep breath as if preparing himself to speak. 

“So…” He starts, “This is hard for me to say………” His voice is almost entirely devoid of emotion. Before you can think about that any longer, he continues speaking. Is he about to apologize? Somehow, you doubt it. “I’m not sorry for what I did.” And there it is. You’re not surprised; you’re just disappointed. You immediately move to leave and his eyes widen. “Wait. No, that’s- Hey, I’m trying to apologize here!”

“Apologizing typically starts with ‘I’m sorry,’” you say, glaring at him. 

“Fine,” Adam says with an eye-roll, “I didn’t want you going on that date. Okay?”

“Why?” You ask. You deserve to know the rationality behind his actions—if there even was any. The angel’s eyes are gleaming (with what emotion, you’re not quite sure).

“I’m your guardian angel,” Adam reminds you, “I’m supposed to protect you from harm.” That’s a load of bullshit. You turn around again, fully intent on barricading yourself in your room and never coming out. “Hey, hey, hey-!” He sputters. Adam takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Damn it! Fine. I didn’t want you to go on that date because you’re out of his league.”

That statement only confuses you further. Tom was an attractive guy, and he seemed nice. Why would you be out of his league? “Then who’s in my league?” You sputter, feeling extremely lost. “You?” You scoff. 

“Yes!” He exclaims with so much vehemence that it startles you. “I mean, no! Fuck, why is this so difficult? Okay. Listen… I rescheduled your date with Tom. You’re gonna meet with him today, and wear that sexy ass outfit you had on yesterday.”

“Really?” You ask, still skeptical. You want to believe the angel, but you can’t help but think of his actions last night—the unflappable determination on his face as he wrecked your plans for the night. Adam got some sort of thrill out of ruining your night, and that still concerns you. 

“Really,” the angel assures you, tossing you your phone. You completely forgot he had it. You remember trying to wrench it out of his grip; when you stormed off to your room, he must’ve still had it. “Check your messages.” You obey and open the text conversation. 

Yesterday, 2:45 p.m. Tom: Looking forward to it.  Yesterday, 4:42 p.m. You: Hey, I hate to do this, but do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow? My roommate got sick and I need to look after him. Tom: Sure thing. Same time? You: Sounds good. 

“Oh,” you remark aloud, lost for words. 

“So go on your date and have fun,” Adam continues. “With- with Tom.” The latter statement is spoken with a decent amount of venom, and Adam averts his eyes with a surprisingly irritated expression on his face. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you busy yourself with preparing for the date, equal parts anticipation and something frighteningly similar to appreciation warring in your chest. You shouldn’t be holding any sort of appreciation for Adam’s actions—he was just righting his own mistake. Even so… You sigh and push aside any thoughts of Adam, instead busying yourself with preparing. When you’re finally ready, you walk out of your room and head for the side table—where your pepper spray, phone, and keys still remain from the night before. 

You glance around the space, finding Adam sitting in front of the television and playing video games. “I’m heading out,” you decide to tell him. 

“Have fun,” the angel says, not bothering to look away from his game. You take a deep breath and leave your apartment, locking your door behind you. Your date is waiting outside, supposedly.

The night passes by frighteningly fast; two hours later, you’re unlocking your front door, shutting it behind you, and trudging into your apartment with severely dampened spirits. You’re unsurprised to find Adam still playing games on your Nintendo Switch. His back is turned and you feel your throat burning. “Hey,” he says, focused on the game. “How’d it go?”

“You called it,” you murmur frustratedly. “You were right. I should’ve listened.” Your eyes are burning now too. Your voice sounds foreign to your ears. 

It evidently takes Adam a moment to process what you just said, but you immediately notice the moment he comprehends it. The room falls eerily silent and you watch the television screen for a moment. (Meanwhile, Adam is staring ahead in complete shock, surprised as to how someone could have fumbled the bag so badly.) Adam then turns around, his game entirely abandoned. “What did that bastard do?” He hisses. “God damn it, I’m going to murder him. He’s going straight to Hell!”

“It’s- I don’t know,” you choke out, placing your hands on the back of the couch. Tears are falling down your face now, despite your best attempts to keep them in. “Maybe it’s my fault.” You murmur.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely not,” Adam declares with an unreasonable amount of confidence. “You’re the closest fuckin’ thing to perfection; there’s no way in Heaven or Hell that it was your fault.” You want to believe him, but you don’t. You can’t—not after how badly the night went. 

You’re still reeling, so you decide to sit down next to Adam on the couch. For a long moment, the two of you stare ahead silently as the Animal Crossing: New Horizons music plays in the background. Eventually, Adam continues playing and you watch as he controls a purple-skinned avatar with golden eyes, black wings, and a white halo. 

Sharing the silence with Adam is nice, but you soon find it more and more difficult to stay awake through it. You’re growing tired—your exhaustion from earlier catching up to you—and your eyelids are starting to sting from fatigue. You’re leaning back against the couch cushions, dangerously close to leaning on Adam’s shoulder. Your limbs feel as heavy as bricks and within moments, you’re surrendering to the urge to succumb to the darkness and the magnetic sensation pulling you to rest your head on the angel’s shoulder. 

The next morning you wake up in your bed, despite having no recollection of walking back to your room. That particular mystery quickly fades to the back of your mind once you arrive at work, however. The day seems to drag, but finally, after a seemingly infinite amount of time, you finish your work and can go home to relax. 

“Hey,” you say as you enter your apartment after work, surprised to find the living room empty. Typically, you’d see Adam watching television at this time. “Adam?” You ask. There’s no response. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on your coat rack, before walking through the living room and into the dining room. 

To your surprise, you find your table candlelit, with boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant scattered around its surface. “Hey, you’re back.” Adam says. Despite the fact that he probably didn’t mean to scare you, the sudden reveal of his presence is enough to send your heart racing—if only for a brief moment. You still can’t quite believe what you’re seeing; noticing your confusion, Adam continues—sounding almost apprehensive. “I thought… you deserve a nice dinner, since your date didn’t go well.” He breaks off for a moment, a truly murderous expression on his face. Adam shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, before motioning to the takeout boxes and looking at you expectantly. “Did I get your order right?” You squint at the boxes and nod; he grins. “Hell yeah! Am I the fucking best or what?”

You smile and shake your head in disbelief. You move to sit down, but Adam tugs you back. “Hey, hey, not so fast,” he admonishes you, before placing a hand on the chair and pulling it out for you. You roll your eyes fondly and sit down at the proffered seat. Moments later, Adam takes a seat across from you. The two of you quickly dig into your food and you fall into idle conversation about your day. 

When you’re both finished eating, Adam clears his throat purposefully. “So,” he starts, “I know I was kind of a dick, but you should go on an actual date with me.” He sounds forceful, but you’re pretty sure he’s just uncertain. 

“Sure,” you agree rather easily. Despite all you’ve been through—all the missteps Adam has made, especially when you were trying to date other people—you like the thought of being in a relationship with him. Adam is frighteningly easy to be around, and underneath that prickly, jerkish exterior is a person who genuinely cares about you. At least, that’s what you hope.  

“Oh hell yeah!” He fist-pumps, making you chuckle. “You’re about to get wined and dined, bitch. Get ready for a four-course meal—I’ll be the perfect fucking gentleman. Chivalry and all that shit.”

“You do realize chivalry has been dead for, like, centuries,” you say before you can stop yourself. 

Adam groans dramatically. “You know what I fucking mean,” he chastises you. And, surprisingly, you think you actually do know what he means. He wasn’t referring to chivalry in the antiquated sense, but more in the sense that every person deserves to be treated nicely. That’s a surprisingly decent perspective, coming from him of all people. “I’m going to be so fucking nice, you’re going to be falling at my feet.” You both know that is definitely not going to happen. You don’t let Adam always have his way—you don’t let him step all over you. And, maybe, that’s one of the reasons he likes you. Maybe, just maybe, he needs someone who is just as independent and stubborn as he is. 

You find yourself looking forward to learning more about this mysterious guardian angel of yours.

endnotes: oh my god, they were roommates.

y'all, i can't believe i wrote 5k words for this bastard.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #anyway #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Adam x reader #Adam x gn reader #Adam x male reader #transmasc reader #gn reader #male reader #etc etc

[bapple117]

Velvette Slang Masterlist: for the fandom

A gift from a humble Brit to anyone (not from the UK) wanting to write Velv convincingly ~

Hello you wayward sinner!

Are you looking to write Velvette into a fan fiction, comic, roleplay or something else? Would you like to make her sound legit but you have no idea about British (or indeed, South London) slang? FEAR NOT! I, Bapple, am here to hold your hand and guide you through the wonderful world of British slang so you can have fun making Velv sound legit. Let's proceed!

Not all of this will be limited to the UK, of course, and it's not an exhaustive list of ALL British slang either - it's just the kind of things Velv WOULD say as someone from South London.

Insults

For men: bastard, prick, wanker, knob, dickhead, wankstain, bellend, git, tosser, sod, cock, pillock, numpty, codger (means old man)

For women: bint, bitch, slag, wench, slut, tart, trollop, scrub

For anyone: arsehole, arse, twat, sket, muppet, minger (means ugly), bugger, gobshite, cretin

The absolute worst thing you can call someone else is cunt - this is very strong and isn't used in casual conversation, unless you are in VERY informal company, in which case it's thrown around like it's nothing at all. (Come here you cheeky cunt - playful)

Terms of Endearment

Babes, hun, luv, darlin', sweetheart, mate, sweetie, mucker, pal, blud, fam, dear, dearie, honey

Eg: "Alright babes? How's it going darlin?'"

British people often use insults affectionately, too, especially with close friends as a way to tease / banter. (You silly sod, you useless prick, you cheeky git, you daft muppet, etc)

Slang Words

Drunk: trollied, smashed, pissed, wasted, legless, hammered, sloshed, battered, bladdered, merry, shitfaced, arseholed, plastered, lashed

Good: banging, well good, mint, the dogs bollocks, ace, blinding, cracking, brill, fab, neat, beast, fresh, hench, jokes (that's jokes innit), lush, peng (good looking), sick, wicked, peak, wavy

Bad: grim, naff, shite, shit, crap, tat (useless old tat), minging, rank, dry, nasty, humming (means gross)

Pleased: chuffed, buzzing, tickled pink, sorted (I'm sorted mate)

Annoyed: gutted, miffed, pissed off, fucked off, fuming, raging, ticked off, well annoyed, bovvered (used more sarcastically eg: I aint bovvered), vexed

Curses

Bollocks, fucking hell, bloody hell, bugger, piss off, any of the insults used above

Other random words

Bare = a lot of (eg bare money)

Chirpsing, grafting = flirting

Garms = clothes

Lips = kiss (are you tryna lips me?)

Peng ting = good looking person / high quality thing

Standard = of course, yeah no duh (Yeah that's standard mate.)

Tight = cheapskate (Don't be so bloody tight!)

Yard = your house (Come over to my yard)

Banter = conversation that's funny, casual, playful (S'just banter innit)

Convo, chinwag, chat = conversation

Defo = short for definite (Oh he's defo up to something)

Other random phrases

Are you taking the mick? = are you mocking me?

Stop faffing around = be serious and stop messing about

That's mad = wow, I can't believe what you just said or that's amazing

Allow it = just leave it, it's no big deal (Whatever mate, allow it)

Other helpful pointers

When British people (who talk like Velv) swear angrily we do so many times in a whole sentence and add a lot of qualifiers, eg:

"Fuck off you fucking prick, you absolute fucking useless arsehole!"

"Don't piss me off babes or I'll fucking end your shitty little life!"

Making a crude observation about something nearly always a curse in-front of it, eg:

"That's fucking rank."

"It was fucking buzzing mate!"

The Magical Use of Innit:

Innit is a wonderful word that can be used everywhere, especially for someone from South London. It basically means "isn't it?" but it has MANY uses. It can be used to mean an agreement, like "I know right?"

"That was well good innit"

"He's a right twat" - response: "INNIT!"

"It's fuckin grim in here" - "Innit mate"

Adding "well" to words

That was well good - that was well bad - that was well grim

(You get the idea)

That's about it for now!

If I think of anything else I will edit this masterlist and if anyone has any questions please feel free to pop them in my inbox. Happy writing!

#velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #the vees #hazbin #hazbin hotel #tips for writers #tips for fanfiction #hazbin roleplay #hazbin velvette #fanfiction guides #writing guides #hazbin guide #bapple chats #bapple guides #masterlist #velvette masterlist #velvette x reader

[emersonfreepress]

help i'm alive

So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol

I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅

Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.

As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.

Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.

So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!

I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.

My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for

So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.

Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3

#oh and if anyone knows where i can stream mob wives uncensored without paying any extra money i'd love you forever lol #that is unimportant- unless y'all find it important that i have access to all of my most influential pieces of media at all times IJSAYING! #jk jk ofc <3 thank you for reading #conspiracy in emerson #if cie #progress #cie ch 3

[kopilot-pop]

[For you are loved.]

- New Jeans x Ex-IZ*ONE! Reader

Request: You can write New jeans(separate) x Ex-izonereader Who is exhausted because he takes so much criticism (Like Wonyoung, only worse because she suffers🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️😓😓😦)and just goes to them and lays on top of them, but oh..they fall asleep..just cute, Your works are too cute!!!!💗💗💗🐰🐰🐰😍😍

Warning(s): Cursing, self-hatred, cyber bullying, etc.

A/N: This is fluffy in the end so don’t be scared to read it because of the warnings. Love y’all, have fun!

———————————————————————

“I just don’t get why you’re with them.”

You froze.

You’re currently at a sign event, meeting hundreds of Bunnies, and having a chance to talk to them.

Everything went smoothly. You smiled at fans, they screamed, you said hi, they screamed, and when you posed for pictures you could hear clicks louder than the ones you heard on a red carpet.

Maybe you should’ve expected not everything could be that perfect.

A certain fan - although it’s clear she has a favorite - made you anxious the moment she sat down in front of you. You were last in the line, so you were able to watch the others interact with her. She brought small wrapped gifts for all your members, but when she arrived at your table, it was clear she was empty handed.

Not even a piece of paper for you to sign at a fucking sign event.

“I… I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” She crosses her legs, folding up her arms on her chest. “I don’t understand why Ador even considered you to join.”

Realizing what’s happening, you quickly glance at the manager - unfortunately he’s busy handling an overexcited fan with Dani.

“I..”

“I don’t want your stupid signature, it’s the same lazy one you had with IZ*ONE.”

Oh.

“You should’ve just stayed alone and pathetic after the disbandment rather then ruining a perfect group.”

Wow.

“You’re an eye sore - do you even know that? A fucking rat standing next to the goddesses. Every day I pray that you get caught in a stupid scandal and leave like th-”

“Excuse me. Your time is over.”

The ‘fan’ quickly glares at the manager, and hurriedly leaves, stomping purposefully. He gently puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry I came too late. You can stay out for the rest if you’d like-”

“It’s okay! I can’t keep my fans waiting. Thank you though.” The fake smile clearly doesn’t ease up your manager’s mind, but he knows you well, and decided to leave you back to work with a simple pat.

—

On your way home you started to read the comments about the interaction.

The same girl decided to brag about her interaction on Twitter. You recognized her username, having seen her and several other fans that loved New Jeans, but hated you.

From editing songs and group photos to exclude you, apparently they decided to finally face you and say the same things that they posted on the internet more directly.

Her post gained attraction -and even though the replies were filled with Bunnies protecting you and explaining how the poster went too far - several replies were filled with hate towards you.

How untalented you are.

How much they hate your voice.

How you didn’t deserve to be with them.

And even a very detailed; ‘100 reasons why Y/n should leave NJ’.

“Number 23, her personality is way too bitchy...” You accidentally mumble out, causing Hyein to snap her head towards you.

“What in the world are you reading unnie?!”

The commotion caused all the girls to look back at the two of you, watching as Hyein snatches your phone out of your grip.

She takes a few seconds to scroll through the thread, as her face becomes more and more sour.

“H-Hyein! Give it back-!”

The younger girl furiously taps on your phone and shuts it off before handing it to you.

“Wha- what did you do?”

“I reported them. Don’t worry about it unnie.”

“But-”

“What the hell are you guys up to?”

Minji, finally awoken from her nap, looks at the two of you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Some asshole was saying shit about Y/n unnie.”

“Woah! Language!”

“My reaction is nothing compared to what Hanni unnie would say if she saw it.”

“Why are you dragging me into this?!”

Minji, now more concerned by the maknae’s reactions, stared at you.

“EVERYONE I’M TRYING TO SLEEP HERE.”

Haerin’s (rare) loud voice clears the van.

“We’ll talk when we get home.”

—

You quickly ran towards your bedroom, locking the door to avoid any contact. You shove your face into the bed letting out a loud groan.

‘I’m used to this. You’re used to this Y/n. This happened 4 years ago, it shouldn’t be that surprising for it to happen again...’

It was the same hate you received ever since you even joined Produce. It always happened, it always existed.

So why does it hurt so much this time?

Was it the comparing? Was it the comment about your skill? Maybe it was the way your members caught your brooding this time.

God, you hope they don’t know about the other times.

The nights you spent awake, wasting your mind reading disgusting comments from older videos. The holidays you spent crying alone at the dorm as you read yet another article about how you ‘mocked someone’. The hours you spent at the company, running your bones and muscles until you felt like ‘you deserved to be with them’.

You’re the most experienced one out of the whole group. You know how common negative comments are.

But it hurts so much more when you’re with the girls.

“Unnie?”

A knock causes you to shoot up from your crying session.

“Y-… Yup?! Yeah??”

You stumble towards the door, but before you could open the door, the full mirror next to your closet made you hesitate.

You teary face and clearly red eyes stopped you from opening the door.

“Um.. do you need something Dani?”

“Oh, yeah. The six of us are gonna have a movie night! Don’t you remember..?”

Shit. You forgot.

“I.. I’m sorry Dani. I think I have a cold. Don’t want you guys catching i-”

“A COLD?! Are you okay unnie!!? Do you need anything!?” Dani’s panic made you groan at your mistake.

After minutes of convincing her to join the others, you finally hear her shuffle away from the other side of the door.

You don’t wanna be seen like this. You’re the tough senior. You’re not the oldest, but the most experienced.

You deal with this alone. Not with others.

Why waste their energy anyways?

—

It’s 3 a.m. when you wake up on the floor.

Your face is still wet from the tears. You ears rang uncomfortably and the mirror still shows a very puffy, tired version of you.

Wiping your face with your sleeves, you quietly make your way to the kitchen - praying that the girls finished their movie night, and all went to bed.

You quietly creak open the door and tiptoe towards the kitchen. But before you could get there, something catches your eye.

The TV screen still plays an old comedy movie - shining a bright light towards the pile in front of the couch.

The air mattress you bought a few weeks ago was on the floor and the girls were all lying on top of it. That’s what you expected, so it wasn’t a surprise.

The empty pillow between Minji and Hanni was the surprising part.

The six of you always had an order you guys laid in.

And you always slept between Minji and Hanni.

You froze and stared at the cold pillow. The sore throat you felt disappeared, replaced by a sudden warmth in your chest. The tears didn’t feel as heavy as they did when you stood besides the mirror.

Like a magnet, you unconsciously gravitated towards the small space. You slowly laid down, staring up into the dark ceiling as the ringing in your ears turned into soft snores all around you.

You could finally hear the laugh tracks coming from the TV, the whirring of the fridge, and the shuffling of sheets.

It wasn’t loud, but enough to calm your mind.

You’re here. You’re in their arms. You’re not a target on the internet, you’re not a ghost from a different group, and you’re certainly not some bitchy asshole as the world makes you out to be.

You’re a New Jeans member.

You’re an adored idol.

And you’re certainly a loved group mate.

Hanni’s unconscious gentle hold on your arm reminds you of that, once again.

———————————————————————

#requested #fanfic #new jeans #new jeans fic #new jeans x reader #newjeans x reader #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #haerin x reader #kang haerin x reader #hyein x reader #lee hyein x reader #fluff

[garbinge]

Flower Shop

Richie Jerimovich x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: Flower Shop A/N: This is NOT the same reader as my other Richie fics. I've decided to compile those fics into their own multichap because I've gotten some Bear fic ideas outside of that little universe I've created. ALSO, huge shout out to @kind-wolf for this idea!!!! Seriously sparked so much inspiration, thank you x 10000000 I hope you enjoy :) Warnings: Cursing, arguing, light angst, mentions of harassment, and someone being drunk and disorderly.

The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth

“We’re across from that stupid fuckin’ flower shop.” Richie spoke into the phone. “Yes, that one.” He was staring out the window at the shop he mentioned, annoyance growing as he stared out. “No, I don’t know if they’ve got white roses, look, will you just tell me when my meat delivery is gonna be here, I gotta fuckin’ feed people.” Richie had slammed his hand down on the table like the person on the other line could see his frustration. Before the conversion continued, Richie saw movement where he was staring across the street. “I gotta go, just deliver the fuckin’ meat.”

As you stepped outside of your flower shop, dragging to large potted plants to sit alongside the front door, you heard the familiar bell of the shop across the street. At first the noise went unnoticed, the first few weeks it was just part of the Chicago hustle and bustle but two months in, you began to notice it because it usually meant that someone was about to start yelling at you. 

“I thought I told you that putting that shit out on the street causes distractions and traffic!” The man yelled out to you. 

Right on schedule was the thought in your head as you huffed and stood up to yell back. 

“I thought I told you to mind your fuckin’ business, beef boy!” You usually had discourse like this on a daily basis but between the early start you had and the exhaustion from pulling these plants out of the back storage room, you were a little more rowdy today. 

“Beef boy?” He scoffed. “Stop blocking the sidewalk, you–you–flower fuck!” He tripped up on what to call you there and it made you smile. 

“T-t-t- today, Junior!” You mocked him back. 

“Are you making fun of me by quoting Billy fucking Madison?!” 

The cars of traffic were moving on the roads in front of you, the audacity they had interrupting your heated discussion. But nonetheless, you weren’t going to let it stop you from going back and forth. 

“Why are you such a fuckin’ jagoff?!” You called back out at him. 

The comment made the slightest smirk grow on Richie’s face, you were too far to notice it which he was grateful for but hearing the word that he called people so often out of someone else’s mouth was amusing. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you look in the mirror and tell me why you’re such a jagoff!” He lifted his hand up and pointed his finger, throwing it at you as he spoke. 

“Wow.” You started clapping. “Great comeback, what are we 10? I know you are what am I?” You called out in a immature tone. 

“I’m gonna go back inside and work because some of us put our blood sweat and tears into our jobs, while other people sit up on their bouqueted pedestals and fuck over us hard workers!” 

You had no idea what he was saying, what he meant by it but that was also a pretty normal and everyday occurrence so you didn’t think twice about it and just yelled out before going back inside your flower shop. 

“Go fuck yourself, beef boy!” 

These things happened pretty often, not everyday but often enough that your comebacks got funnier, they got more detailed, more pointed, on both sides. When you went out to water the plants on display in front of the store and Richie went out for a smoke break you yelled across at each other. When you both were at the window looking at the rain clouds forming or the rain drops falling, you’d throw middle fingers up and mouth profanities at each other. When you’d stay late and look across the street to see Richie there at the restaurant late, you’d stare at each other, give mean looks and turn the lights off to work in the back offices at your shop. 

It was strangely something enjoyable, for both of you. It was a way to get out so much frustration and build up tension that had accrued in the days. It wasn’t healthy, and you knew that but you weren’t exactly looking for the textbook solution to your problems these days. 

As you stood outside, past closing time, sweeping up the dead leaves and fallen petals from the day, Richie was out for what was likely his 5th smoke break of the day. It was late, and you both tended to keep it down when curfew hours hit, out of respect for the block, not each other. As you moved along your storefront, you heard a voice that wasn’t familiar. 

“Yo, can I please get some flowers, my girl’s mad at me and I need something to bring home.” The voice was slurred, the person sounded drunk. You looked up and saw the person who had stumbled up to your store. 

“I can give you a mix of stuff for $10.” You weren’t in the mood to cause problems so you thought this would be a good compromise. A bouquet like that would normally be double so you thought this was the perfect meet in the middle deal. 

“Nah, I don’t got any money. Just let me go in and grab something small, no biggie, alright?” The man started to push by and tried to get in the door that you had already locked.  

“We’re closed, I can go grab something for you, and you can give me $10 for it, that’s it.” Your voice was firm as you stepped in front of the door. 

“C’mon!” The guy whined. 

“Alright, new plan. No flowers, and you get the fuck out of here.” There was no whine in your tone, you weren’t playing games which is why the push you gave the guy was more aggressive than your initial block. 

While the push worked to get him away from the door, the man didn’t leave. 

“Pretty sure she told you to get the fuck out of here.”

That sentence was said by someone else and it made both you and the man turn to look at where the hardened voice was coming from. You saw the man from across the street, now much closer on your side of the street, on your sidewalk. He looked different closer up, you could see the features of his face better, despite it being late at night you could see things that the space hid. The bags under his eyes, the roughness of his stubbled beard, the wrinkles in his forehead and eyes, he was worn, he had been through a lot, you could tell. You also could tell that he had been used to these type of run ins, or you so assumed as you looked at the gun in his hand that wasn’t being threatened yet, but was ready in the case it needed to be.   

“But my flowers…” The man stumbled slightly as he spoke. 

“They’re her flowers, not yours. Go home, get the fuck out of here.” Richie stepped forward, using his body to show force and slightly raising the gun to let the man know it was there. 

And it worked. The man left, drunk and defeated, leaving you and Richie on the sidewalk in front of your shop. 

“I had it handled.” The glare you had was still on the man walking away and when he got out of your view, you turned to the person still next to you. 

“Most people just say thank you.” He scoffed as he put the gun in his back waistband. 

“You have a history of showing up armed and ready to shoot someone?” You raised your eyebrow and leaned on the broom handle. 

“No, I just–do you have to argue everything?” He was frustrated. 

“I just assumed that was our thing.” Your shoulders shrugged so nonchalantly. 

Richie let out a laugh and shook his head as he took a step off the curb and was now standing on the asphalt of the street, slowly making his way back over to the restaurant. “I’d buy yourself a piece, get yourself familiar with it, this block can get hot sometimes.” 

“Who says I’m not familiar?” You called out to him with a smirk on your face. 

“My mistake.” He lifted his hands up in surrender with a similar smirk to your own before turning around fully to step onto his side of the street. 

“Hey, beef boy!” The humor in your voice was being held back by a thin thread as you smiled through your words. 

Richie turned around, his hand on the door handle ready to enter back into the restaurant as he stared at you. For the first time ever, you weren’t going to yell profanities at eachother, give rude gestures or annoyed looked. For the first time you smiled at him and truly had no sarcastic attitude in what the next two words out of your mouth would be. 

“Thank you!”

#The Bear #The bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #richie jerimovich #richie fuckin jerimovich #richie jerimovich x f!reader #richie jerimovich x reader

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour four!!!!! this one is angsty, folks! strap in! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 1k

prologue / hour 3 << pt. 5 -- hour 4 >> hour 5

For a moment, he swears he's back there. Back when everything was simple for you two.

༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟒 ·:*¨༺

"Right," Remus squeezes out, "I do remember that." 

"Yeah. It was a good night."

He laughs humorlessly, "I got so wasted that night. Don't remember half of it. Shit, all I remember is you and then throwing up for about an hour the morning after."

Part of you glows. He remembered you.

"Yeah, you were... fucked up that night."

'You looked so pretty that night,' He wants to say—he can't. In the back of his mind, he's intrigued by you. He wants to know you—know you the way Sirius does. Sirius knew so much about you. He knew about your dreams and your biggest accomplishments, knew of your fears and your failures. And Remus Lupin, in some twisted way, was jealous of Sirius Black.

"You were in the flat that morning, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I stayed with you guys 'cos my flatmate was being a raging bitch."

He nods, "Right."

He remembers seeing you—your hair was a mess as you ate your cereal, and you waved at him with your spoon, wearing a bright smile.

"I was so happy to see you were still alive," Your face wrinkles with a smile, and you shine brighter than the sun.

'What a cute smile,' His brain taunts him.

"I was happy I was alive. Though, after hurling that much, I felt like death." He laughs.

You join him, "I bet. You looked deathly."

He smirks, "More than usual?"

You break into laughter as you remember one of your many insults thrown at him.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"You look like death, as per usual," You drunkenly slurred at him. Then you squint, eyes meeting his neck, "Are those fucking hickeys?" You'd messily pulled at his collar, "They are! Wow! Remus Lupin, everybody!" You hollered in the crowded bar, "Absolute man whore!"

He stared at you vindictively, "Oh, shut up!" He had yelled.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember arguing with him more, and Sirius had intervened at one point. You were yelling profanities at Remus as Sirius dragged you away.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You sigh, "That was a horrible night."

"Your makeup was all smudged."

You snort, "I was making out with some douche."

"And I was the man whore."

You fall into fits of laughter; he soon joins you, "That was a horrid night. I went home with this guy and..." He rubs his hands over his face, "Ugh. He was just a shitbag."

You frown, "Sorry. That sucks."

"Eh," he shrugs, "It's whatever."

You're both silent for a moment, basking in the feeling of... not hating one another.

Remus leans against the wall and sinks into a seated position, "I'm really fucking tired."

He sounds exhausted, and you would say you're not sure where it's coming from, but the reality is, you've been stuck in this elevator with him for four hours, and it's tiring. You collapse next to him. Your knees touch, and it sends sparks up your thigh and through your ribcage, settling in your heart.

"And my joints hurt," He adds.

You gawp for a second, and then you nod, "Right. I forgot."

His movement is sharp as he jerks his head in your direction, "What?" He snaps.

"Hm? Are we back to hating each other?"

"You forgot about what?"

You cock your head, confused, "You have chronic pain. No?"

"I—" Remus is torn. Should he tell you? There's the chance you'll make fun of him for it, but then it hits him that you already know. You know he's chronically ill, and you haven't said anything about it, "Yeah. I have to use a cane sometimes."

"Mhm," You nod, "You've got that one with all the stickers on it."

"I've had that one for years—got it in our fifth year as a present from... everyone," He smiles, and it's so warm that you feel yourself melting into him.

You're both quiet for what feels like hours. It was about two minutes.

"You know, after that night, I always wondered what was wrong with me." You say quietly.

"What?"

"I mean..." Your tone is soft and laced with hurt, "Why don't you like me, Remus? Tell me, full stop."

He shakes his head, "I don't think you want to know."

"I do!" You insist, "I really want to know."

He throws his arms up, "Why the fuck do you care?!"

You're taken aback. It's not the first time Remus has yelled at you, but it somehow hurts the same as it did the first time. This damn lift was making you go crazy.

"Because!" You scream back, "Because I want you to like me!"

"But why?" He groans.

"Because— because I don't think you're all that bad. I see the way you interact with our friends. You're so kind with them. Why am I the exception? What is so wrong with me?"

Remus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, "You're full of yourself. That's why."

"Bullshit!" You yell, "That's complete and utter bullshit, Remus. And we both know it." 

He rolls his eyes, "See? It's this kind of shit. You wanted to know, so I told you. Now you're complaining like a baby. Honestly, I'm not even sure why my friends put up with you."

Insecurity floods your body, filling up every crack and crevice of your being. 

'My friends.' His—not yours, not ours, his.

It hits you hard, and you go silent. You always felt like an outsider in their group—they'd all known each other since they were kids, and you suddenly appear with Sirius, and they all think you're his latest feat. But you keep coming around, and you've convinced yourself they hate you—that they hate you, and Remus is the only one to actually say something.

"Honestly," he continues, "I'm pretty sure they only put up with you because of Sirius. He'd raved about you. Saying you're talented, intelligent, funny. What a fucking shame that none of it was true."

He's not thinking straight, and he doesn't even realize he's said something so insulting and hurtful until your chest sinks in, and your face contorts into an expression of pain. He's cut you open and, not even a second later, has rubbed salt into the wound.

"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.

GUYS IM SORRY (lying)

lmk if u wanna b tagged!

@queerpumpkinnn @ay0nha @knaveism @whennyxfallsinlove @freezing-my-brain @starlit-epiphany @inkluvs @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @starsval @little-snow @bubybubsters @zvdvdlvr @venzami-burst @rosalyn-s @ttulipwritezz @fate-posts @sparky--bunny @severegiantjudgefriend @secretdazeobservation @violetteshoneybee

#༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺ #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin x reader enemies to lovers #remus lupin enemies to lovers #remus lupin forced proximity #remus lupin x reader forced proximity #moony #moony x reader

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Opulence was so readily and freely available to you in your lifestyle, and you had your love to thank for that. Of course, that meant you were going to find him the most dashing present, and spend a fortune on it, whether he liked the pop of colour, or not.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✦ Mafia!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✦ 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦ Fluff, Princess takes care of Bucky

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦ Just some much needed softness for my boy.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✦ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Christmas was a time for you to let your hair down, and for every year before you had met Bucky, that was exactly what you did. Since this was the first Christmas with Bucky, however, you planned on doing the opposite; pairing it back and reining in the festivities. 

He had vehemently insisted that you could do whatever you wanted, going as far to give you his whole wallet and telling you to get out of the penthouse and have fun, but you refused. 

Only on the basis that you already had your fun.

Bucky’s present was hung, hidden, in one of the spare bedroom’s closets. A luxurious suit, tailored to Bucky’s measurements — thanks to the sneaky idea of using his usual tailor — in pressed cashmere in the colours of deep reds and maroons. They lacked subtlety, but the Christmas vibe from the paired colours was just what you were after. 

He needed more colour in his life, you reasoned. 

The click of the lock on the front door made you look up from your phone, where you were mindlessly scrolling. “Baby? Where are you?” Bucky called, his voice strained. 

You frowned and answered, “In the study.”

His footsteps sounded slow and deliberately heavy, ladened with the weight of the day. You placed your phone down on the side table and looked at the doorway just as he appeared — exhaustion clung to his built frame, the slump of his shoulders and lack of his signature smirk when his gaze focused on you was all you needed to know to realise that it had been a rough day. 

“Are you alright–?”

Bucky shook his head once, and sighed. “Shit day. Shit people.”

You got to your feet and went to the small bar, just next to the opulent electric fireplace, and you pointed at the wine in the small fridge — one that was normally reserved for special occasions. “Do you want one, handsome?”  

“Yeah,” he answered tiredly, rubbing his face with his right hand as he fell onto the loveseat. “Why the fuck not.”

The small Christmas tree on the opposite side of the bar gleamed in the firelight, the reds and golds patterned with ambers and oranges of the flames as you poured two glasses full. “Did you want to talk about it?” you ventured, glancing up from the glass to his face, and you caught the minute shake of his head. “Okay—it’s up to you babe.”

You couldn’t take the deep frown of contemplation on his lips, the furrow of his brow that aged him — the ache of your heart deep the longer it was there. It was heart wrenching to see, and you decided enough was enough. 

The surprise for Christmas that you had worked hard on was just going to be early; his smile would make all of it worth it. 

“How was your day, doll?” Bucky asked quietly, sipping at the wine. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you this time, and you smiled softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t message as much–”

“Don’t you worry, babe,” you rushed, grabbing his hand. “I had a good day—nothing eventful, thankfully.” The skin of his right hand was callused and warm; scarred from knives and triggers alike. “I actually have a surprise for you.”

Bucky blinked. “Okay, now that’s a shock.”

“Don’t be so surprised, wow,” you teased, and he chuckled. “Now, you wait here. And close your eyes.” The wine glass in your other hand made a small thud when you put it down on the side table. “I mean it,” you said, getting to your feet. “Close them. Now.”

He raised a brow in challenge as you walked backwards out of the door, and you pointed at him. “Do as you’re told.”

“Whatever,” Bucky groaned. He threw his head back over the ornate carved frame of the loveseat, then he put an arm over his eyes. “I’ll just have a nap, ‘kay?”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes before you walked to the closet that held the suit. The fabric of the garment cover was scratchy against your arm, but you powered through to walk back to the study — an otherwise silent space, if you discounted the low mutters and curses in Russian coming from the slumped figure of your love. 

Your heart broke at the sight. If Bucky outright refused to tell you what had happened that day, you knew it was a dark, dangerous topic, and you wouldn’t push, but it did not stop the longing you held to help lessen the burden on his shoulders. 

“Buck–?” you said quietly, and his shoulders straightened. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

You rounded the loveseat to find him sitting comfortably, thighs spread and hands relaxed either side of them. “Okay,’ you ventured, moving to stand in front of him. The rustling noises of the cover made you sure he had already guessed what you had brought in — at least he at least didn’t know for certain, not yet, you assured yourself. “Open your eyes.”

Bright, clear eyes met yours, and then they glanced down at your gathered bounty. “Oh–” His hands twitched as he reached out to unzip the cover, and he beamed at seeing the red and maroon fabric. “Baby—what the–?”

“I thought you needed something that’s not black, and something that’s Christmassy,” you explained, smiling down at him. “And your lovely tailor helped me get it together. It’s why I haven’t gone out at all, because I had all of what I wanted to get right here.”

“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, running his fingers over the fabric. “This is beautiful. Hang on.” 

You watched him get to his feet and straighten his shirt. “Unzip it for me?” he asked, fiddling with his cuffs. “I want to wear what my girl got me—‘cause she’s got amazing taste.”

Heat crept up your neck at his praise, but you unzipped the cover with haste and you held the shoulders of the suit carefully. Bucky offered his arm and you slipped his arm through the sleeve, then the other; careful of the breadth of his biceps and shoulders. The suit shuffled and creased as Bucky shucked it up his frame, and it settled perfectly on his shoulders. “Damn, Princess.’

A beaming grin split your cheeks as you watched him turn to face you. The deep red and maroon made his eyes pop with colour, and his tattoos deepened with the contrast. He looked truly beautiful. “Holy shit, babe,” you breathed. “You look—fuck, you look so handsome; dashing.” 

Bucky grinned at you, and pulled you close. “Why, thank you, baby girl,” he purred, and he kissed you on the corner of your mouth. “Now, I need to find you a dress to match.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #MB #rookthorne's works

[w1ldthoughts]

Please don’t say “I told you so”

a/n: This is my first work I’ve ever posted on here from a random idea in my head. Please let me know what you think and if you’d like to read more!

Warnings: Fainting, hospital visit, 911 call.

Summary: Jack has been overworking himself. Will he listen to you and slow down or will it all catch up to him?

Masterlist

It all started with a stomach ache. He chalked it up to eating breakfast too fast that morning so he could get back to rehearsing. In the last leg of his small tour he wanted to mix it up so the fans wouldn’t hear the same show as others before them. You knew something was off with him when he put his hand on his stomach for the third time in the last hour.

“You okay, babe?” You mused, trying to keep the worry out of your voice but he caught it anyway.

“Yeah I’m fine,” he kissed the side of your head. “Just gonna grab some water and a nap before the show tonight. Wanna join me?”

After nodding your head excitedly, you and Jack walked hand in hand down the tunnel where he had a car waiting to take you both back to the hotel. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out, light snores coming out of his slightly open mouth and you felt bad for staring but—you’d never get tired of admiring your boyfriend’s beauty. Even after two years of dating.

His cheeks were a little flushed so you placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature but he didn’t feel warm so that made it easier for you to take a power nap of your own. The tour had been so fun yet so exhausting and you weren’t even the one performing so it was impossible to even imagine how Jack was feeling. Every other night for the last week he was on stage and it was wearing him out to say the least.

You woke up feeling a lot more refreshed but the curly haired boy to your left looked paler than usual, which is saying a lot.

He took one look at your face and sighed. “Please don’t start. I know that look. We’ve got one show left and then I’ll be home to do absolutely nothing for the next month.”

“You swear?”

“Cross my heart.” He whispers with a smile.

I’ll be home to do absolutely nothing for the next month. All men do is lie.

You were so excited to get back to Louisville and actually spend some quality time with Jack but after three days of what he called “house arrest” he claimed he just needed to be at the studio to listen to some tracks that had been sent over.

“I’ll be back in an hour—two hours, tops.” He promised. Not wanting to be an unsupportive partner, you let him go.

He didn’t come home until close to 3am.

Nothing in the world sounded more appealing than pretending to be asleep and not start a fight but he really had forced your hand this time. As soon as he walked into your shared bedroom you turned on the lamp.

“Oh shit babe. You didn’t have to wait up for me. I lost track of time with the guys in the studio—”

“I’m gonna be honest, I really don’t give a fuck Jackman.” You stated blankly, trying to keep your voice even.

“Wow, full government. Okay goodnight y/n.”

“No I don’t think so.” You scoff. “I’ve been trying to keep it real cute but tour’s over. You promised you’d slow down and actually get some rest but we haven’t even been home for a week and you’re already rushing off to the studio for hours on end.

You’re literally working so hard it’s making you sick Jack. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, “so I should tell Pharrell I can’t work on the stuff he sent tomorrow because I have a headache and my stomach hurts a little bit? Yeah great idea y/n, let’s hear some more.

“My career is at its peak right now and I need to seize every fucking opportunity because everyone is coming for my spot. Yeah I gotta sacrifice some shit and go to work when I don’t feel the best but guess what? I’m a grown ass man and I will decide if I need a break or not. Can we please go to sleep now?”

“I think I’m gonna sleep in one of the guest rooms.” Your voice cracks, feeling defeated at this conversation not going the way you’d hoped. Jack’s gaze softens a bit as you grab your favorite blanket and make your way to the door. “I love you. Very much. But I’m not gonna sit here and watch you work yourself to the bone. Do what you feel like you have to but—I don’t think I wanna keep watching you wither away right in front of my eyes. It’s too much.”

He didn’t say anything else after that so you knew where he stood on the matter. The next morning you realize that he was already gone and after a rare and desperate morning run to clear your head, you felt bad. Jack was a capable adult who had been living this insane lifestyle since before you so maybe he did have it all under control. Either way you decided to be the bigger person and bring him lunch at the studio.

Urban was the first one to greet you with a smile and a hug, thanking you for saving him from potential starvation. Jack was stepping out of the booth as everyone started to dig in and the air immediately got tense.

“We’ll just take this food into the other room and let y’all settle this.” Clay mumbled with a plate in hand, eager to get out of this extremely awkward situation. He’d already had to listen to his brother complain the entire ride to the studio a few hours before, he didn’t want to hear anything more about it until everything was resolved. All he knew was that you were right and he was on your side of this whole thing.

“You two better fix this.” Neelam said, patting you on the back on her way out the door.

“Hi.” Is all you could muster up right now.

“Hi.” He bites the inside of his cheek with a hand on his abdomen. Fighting with his favorite person in the world made everything hurt more.

“I’m sorry.” You both say simultaneously. Even in the midst of a disagreement you’re still in sync.

“Jack, I was being dramatic last night. You’re an adult and you take great care of yourself and I’m sorry I’ve been on your ass about work. I just—“

“You were looking out for me, I get it. Probably could have handled it better myself.” He says, clearing his throat and patting his chest.

Furrowing your brows but not wanting to resume World War III, you opened your arms and said “come here.”

He took a step forward before he stopped, shaking his head and blinking several times like there was something in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“Uh huh.” He lied. “Just got a little dizzy, I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re obviously not fine! Why don’t you just call it a day. I’ll take you home, you can lay down and—Jack?”

It was like time was moving in slow motion and it was a miracle you got there fast enough to catch his upper body and gently try to lower him to the ground. Even though he was much taller and heavier now that he was basically dead weight, you were operating on pure adrenaline and could probably lift a truck if someone asked.

“Oh my god. Somebody call 911.” You yell out, tears brimming your eyes as you checked his pulse and were met with a steady heartbeat. The only other thing you could remember from your CPR training for work a few months ago was to keep him on his back and hope that he’d be conscious soon.

Urban is the first person to rush back into the room and you’d never seen him more worried than seeing his best friend on the floor. Clay followed closely behind him and immediately knelt down next to you to get his brother to wake up, lightly shaking him and calling his name repeatedly while Neelam stood in the doorway on the phone with dispatch.

“What the hell happened?” Clay asks, shaking Jack’s shoulder again. Urban stood in the corner of the room, motionless.

“I don’t—I don’t know. We were just talking and he was fine but then he wasn’t. He—he said he was dizzy and then he just fell. I ran over to catch him but he was just…out.” Your voice trembles.

Jack’s eyes flutter open and he looks at you and Clay, his face free of any readable expression. “Why am I on the floor?”

All three of you release a collective sigh of relief, especially Urban who you swear wiped a tear from his eyes.

“Ambulance is about 5 minutes out, who’s riding with him?” Neelam asks.

The most beautiful set of blue eyes meet yours again as Urban comes over to help you gently sit him up. You feel relaxed enough to sit next to him as Clay brings him a bottle of water which Jack thanks him for.

“You passed out, babe. Like straight up collapsed to the floor.”

“That shit almost gave me a fucking heart attack bro. Don’t you ever do that shit to me again.” Urban scolds him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jack puts his free hand on top of it and gives Urban’s hand a few pats.

Your boyfriend then leans his head on your shoulder and allows you to place a few kisses onto the side of his head.

“I’m sorry for scaring you baby. And you too, y/n.” He jokes, earning a few laughs.

Everyone decided it would be smarter to have Urban and Clay ride in the ambulance with Jack so you could drive him home afterwards in your car since he didn’t drive himself to the studio. Maggie and Brian met you in the waiting room with hugs. Clay and Urban walked in a few minutes later to announce that they’d brought Jack upstairs to run some tests.

God you felt so shitty. You knew he wasn’t feeling well and you didn’t plead your case enough for him to stay home. Now here all of you sit in the ER, hoping that there isn’t anything actually serious going on with him.

“I can practically hear you beating yourself up in your head. Stop doing it. We’ve all been around him the last week and I easily could’ve told him to slow down too. But I didn’t. You’re not alone.” Urban reassures you, occupying the plastic chair to your right.

“Yeah I know but—I’m his partner. I should’ve hid his phone or his studio keys or something.”

He laughs, letting out a deep sigh. “Jack would’ve found a way. You know his ass is stubborn.” He leans forward, putting his hands together as he shakes his head.

“Urby, you okay?”

“I’m cool. Just really hated seeing him like that.” He whispers. “He’s my family, you know? We don’t do anything or go anywhere without each other and like—I don’t even wanna think about what I would do without him.” He sniffs and you pull him in for a hug.

“Might be real dramatic for this but when I heard you yelling and saw him laying there like that? My heart just fell to my ass forreal.”

“I know. He’s gonna be okay though, we’ll make sure of it.” You chuckle.

“Good he better be. He owes me some of the finest weed in the world stressing me out like that. I need a blunt so bad right now.” All you could do with that was shake your head.

A few minutes later a nurse came in to take your group up to Jack’s private suite.

The doctor told everyone that it was stress related stomach ulcers and he’d need to take a series of antibiotics for 10 days, avoid acidic foods and bed rest for the first two days on the medication. He’d need to stay overnight to ensure that there was no adverse reaction to the meds he’d already been given but otherwise he was ready to be discharged in the morning bearing no issues. His parents thanked the doctors and you stepped out to let them have a moment with him. Then Clay and Urban went in while you texted Neelam an update.

“Sweetheart? He’s asking for you.” Maggie says with a soft smile. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon to check on him when he gets home to make sure he’s not getting on your nerves too much if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. I’ll text you when we get home and you can come by anytime you know you’re more than welcome. I’m sure I’ll be needing the company anyway to drown out what I’m sure will be a lot of ‘I’m bored when can I go back to work?’”

She laughs softly at your Jack impression, wrapping you up in a warm embrace. “Thank you for always taking such good care of him.”

“Thank you for giving birth to the love of my life.” You reply, squeezing her hand as she catches up with her husband who already hugged you goodbye before he went to double check the schedule with the nurses. He didn’t outwardly show it but he was definitely worried about his firstborn. It was sweet.

You made your way into the suite and made a beeline for Jack who was perched in bed holding a cup of cranberry juice. “Well if it isn’t sleeping beauty himself.” You exclaim, parking yourself at the foot of his bed.

He snorts into his cup before putting it on the bedside table. “I see you got jokes already. You’re not funny by the way. Not even a little.”

“Tell that to the smile on your face. But seriously, how are you feeling bub?”

“Good.” He sighs, leaning his head back against the mountain of pillows. “A lot better. C’mere.”

You migrate up to his side, trying to get as close to him as possible with the wires and his IV in the way. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling so sick?”

“I didn’t think it was that bad and after last night I was being petty and I didn’t want to admit you might be right about me slowing down. Guess you were a little bit more than right cause now I got bed rest to look forward to.” He pouts.

“Poor baby.” You coo, running your fingers through his hair.

“At least I’ll have you to be my sexy nurse?” Jack states, rubbing his hands together. This man can’t be serious.

“Yes. Me and Urban.” The man next to you wipes the smile off his face immediately and opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “You really scared him and he’s probably not going to let you out of his sight for the next 6 months. To be fair, you scared me too.”

“I know. I’m sorry babe. I just—I don’t know. This fame shit is so temporary and fragile, I don’t want to get complacent. Next thing I know I’m a fucking has been. That’s the last thing I want because you know I love this shit and I worked my ass off to get here.”

You turn and face him. “Jackman Thomas you are the most talented person I know. And I know you love the grind but you can also love yourself a little bit more in the process. People like Pharrell and Drake and all these people who respect you and want to work with you are there for a reason. You aren’t going anywhere, believe that. But if you work yourself as hard as you’ve been then you’ll just burn out. I love Jack Harlow the MC and performer but you? My Jackie poo? You’re the light of my life and I don’t wanna see that light go out as long as I live. I won’t let it.”

He smiles sheepishly, peppering kisses all over your face. “Thank you baby, I really needed to hear that.”

“You’re welcome. Now get some sleep. We’re in bed, let’s get to the resting part.”

“You gon milk this bed rest thing huh?”

“It’s either that or ‘I told you so.’ So you might wanna get used to it, pookie.” You give him a peck on the cheek.

“You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Oh I’m lucky? Boy if it wasn’t for me you would’ve had a knot on the side of your head the size of a grapefruit. I saved you.”

He sighs. “Maybe you’re right. You did save me. Don’t know what I’d do without you, my knight in shining armour.”

“Uh huh, you’re welcome princess. Now get some sleep cause your bed rest is going to include an entire rewatch of Empire.”

He might’ve groaned and complained but by episode two he was more into it than you were. But he would never actually admit that. It would only be another opportunity for you to say “I told you so.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow one shot

[kimbapisnotsushi]

here have a medley of miscellaneous timeskip pro team headcanons bc WOW i haven't posted in a while and this is my only stress outlet other than binging new series <3333

starting off strong with ejp raijin LET'S GOOOOOO

washio 🫱🏼‍🫲🏼suna 🫱🏼‍🫲🏼komori: being EXHAUSTED from carrying the pro team world on their backs

no no i'm kidding. mostly

they keep a tally of other pro team matches in which their former teammates go up against each other and are REALLY smug if their respective teammate wins. which means you get shit like this

komori, cheerfully: "so how about that hornets v falcons game last night, huh?" suna: "oh shut UP tell iizuna tsukasa that aran-san could kick his ass any day of the week you little SHIT - "

they ARE united on the jackals front tho. all three of them want the adlers to go down HARD.

is suna nursing a grudge against ushijima from high school? yeah. is he ever going to get over it? probably not.

only komori feels bad bc he is fond of kageyama, but, hey, family's family

they ask washio why he hates the adlers and he looks them dead in the eyes and goes "hoshiumi kourai . . . he is a man that requires constant vigilance"

actually wait i know we all saw everyone watching and talking about the game (which makes me wanna cry SO bad) but god. how fucking funny would it be if players from monster gen convinced everyone else on their very professional and very mature teams to take sides

ejp raijin captain, who's been friends with hirugami fukurou for like ten years: "okay so explain to me again why we need to blow our entire team budget on jackals merch when we're not even going to the goddamn game?" komori: "well, it started on a cloudy but beautifully crisp spring day in 2012 - "

SPEAKING OF TACHIBANA RED FALCONS

hakuba joins the team, sees aran, and IMMEDIATELY starts texting the old kamomedai group chat

altho tbh i don't think there's no way that the "who-from-where-made-WHAT-pro-team" news never breaches the high school circuit. like come ON you know everyone's keeping up with the third year stars when they graduate

by the time the first years are third years they've got everyone pinned down on a fucking MAP. they have a shared file where they update each other on EVERYTHING. it's way less creepy than it sounds they're just a really passionate bunch okay!!!!

well that AND they can't help but brag about their amazing upperclassmen

okay sorry back to it. so it really goes more like

hakuba: "HOLY SHIT OJIRO ARAN FROM INARIZAKI IS HERE" suwa: "hakuba, we already knew that. i linked the article when it first dropped, remember?" hakuba: "yeah but it's still so WEIRD like it's OJIRO ARAN from INARIZAKI" hoshiumi: "lol atsumu told me he talks in his sleep, go find out if it's true"

aran actually does recognize hakuba mostly because gin paid him a compliment ONE (1) time and then aran had to listen to atsumu complain incessantly about the "stupid wall of muscle with stupid hair and his stupid height and stupid arms" ever since

ALSO. i think people get hakuba and hyakuzawa mixed up a lot. they've both got a similar height and build and hairstyle and play the same position

(not to mention the similar backstories)

it becomes a running joke throughout the pro leagues and makes for a fun time with falcons v warriors matches

in the event of a hyakuhina hookup (which i feel like actually could happen) they somehow get onto the topic of "haha it'd be even harder to tell them apart with your eyes closed!" and hinata, without thinking, goes "well, i probably could" and everyone is like "WHAT"

he digs himself an even deeper hole by saying "no, i just meant - i know hyakuzawa's body really well!!!" and everyone immediately starts screaming

poor hyakuzawa is dying on the inside

i think shibayama (MY BELOVED) kind of occasionally forgets that he also has his own fanbase and is sort of semi-famous as the libero of tokai heavy industries esperanza bc. he knows kenma and yaku and lev and komi and yamamoto and fukunaga and, in general, a bunch of people that he believes are much more well-known than he is

he's always so flattered whenever someone stops him in the street to ask for a pic or when he sees posts online gushing about him

this is extra funny bc he never talks about his friends like they're famous so all of his teammates don't really know that shibayama is friends with all these other famous people

and then one of them, an avid kodzuken fan, spams their group chat when kodzuken's newest video is released and shibayama shows up in it

they're like "SHIBAYAMA!! HOW COME YOU NEVER TOLD US THAT YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH KODZUKEN??" and shibayama is like "i have?? i talk about kenma-san all the time??" and they're like "YOU'RE TELLING ME KODZUKEN IS THE SAME KENMA-SAN WHO RIPPED HIS HIGH SCHOOL JERSEY TRYING TO JUMP OVER A FENCE???"

(shibayama's second year. they'd been dealing with things. it worked out, in the end. even if they had to lie to nekomata and naoki about why all their jerseys ended up with holes in them.)

i love the pro teams you guys they're so fucking funny

#anyways recently i read go with the cloud north by northwest and holy SHIT #are there some things i could do without??? yeah absolutely #but the art is gorgeous and there are some BANGER lines to quote i am incredibly invested #as always thanks for reading! stay safe and keep doing the best you can #suna rintarou #washio tatsuki #komori motoya #hakuba gao #ojiro aran #hyakuzawa yuudai #hinata shouyou #shibayama yuuki #miya atsumu #ushijima wakatoshi #hirugami fukurou #hoshiumi kourai #suwa aikichi #iizuna tsukasa #kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu!! #sou says stuff

[missmeinyourbones]

*sends u brain waves to make u think abt d*bi*

*my favorite kind of brainwaves. i do have two wips for him i promise but for now please accept my crumbs* NSFW 18+

fwb dabi who is very clear on the whole 'no strings attached, just sex' thing. all 'no commitment' and 'we're not together' because he has issues and blah blah BLAH. its all fun and games until the two of you slowly start to cross the set boundaries and before he realizes it he’s fucked

one night after making you cum like four times, its too dark for you to drive home and he doesn't know why he doesn’t like the idea of you exhausted and weak in the back of some uber so he's mumbling into his pillow pretending to be half asleep like 'just stay the night.' begins coming over to your place and NOT simply jumping your bones the second he's through the door—sometimes watches your shitty reality shows with you while making fun of the confessionals, sometimes showing up with a bag of candy to suck on while he listens to you rant about your day and chiming in to shit talks your coworkers. and slowly but surely over time you're realizing that wow yeah we are still having sex but it feels like… more

and then one night he's balls deep in you and has the audacity to slip in a half assed "i fuckin' love you," in the middle of toe curling obscenities and dirty talk and after you both are milked dry and in a post orgasm haze panting and sticky, you're like... i heard that 🤨 LMFAO

#he he he HE HE #i need him inside of me #(like his dick but also his entire soul)

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 96

Ah, I see, so THIS is why Liam looks like a cute beatnik from a 50s jazz club ... oh boy ... he's brought back the German accent BIG TIME and it's giving me massive Caleb vibes ... meanwhile Tal's clearly having EVEN MORE fun with this ... oh my gods ... wow ... that's a DOOZY, definitely ...

Marisha (cracking up): "It sounded like there was more!" Travis: "I know!"

So ... yeah ... it was all SO HEAVY when we ended it last week ... the group is WELL on the way to imploding under the weight of what just happened in the night ... can they come back from this? This is SO WORRYING ...

Oh boy ... RIGHT BACK where we were at the end ... wow ... so it's just the two of them again ... O.O

Fuck ... now even LAUDNA can feel Delilah's starting to take over ... that's not good at all ...

This is starting to sound SO MUCH like Laudna knows she's not going to be around when this is all done ... oh man ... AND she's starting to think maybe that's A GOOD THING? Fuck ... no, really, NO ...

Imogen's trying SO HARD to keep this all together for BOTH OF THEM but I can feel her breaking too ...

Come on, Imogen, that's it, bring her back from the brink ... LISTEN TO HER, Laudna. She's the best thing in your life, and she feels the same way about you, luv. You need to buck up ...

Imogen: "I'm gonna miss our little cottage." Oh fuck ...

Ah shit ... the tissues ... yeah, that's how it is with ALL OF US right now ...

Crap ... that's right, Dorian's missed A WHOLE LOT, he doesn't KNOW about Delilah, not really ... oh, and also about IMODNA ... XD ... AND Chetney's threesome with Fearne and his ex ...

Oh yeah ... Bordor ... that was a whole bunch of wrong ... that took a whole lot out of ALL OF 'em ...

Ashton being all philosphical again abdout villains trying NOT TO BE ... yeah ... he's pretty spot on ...

Dorian: "CAN she be trusted?" Oof ...

Ashton: "You okay?" Imogen: "No." Ahston: "SHE okay?" Imogen: "No." Ahston: "Okay."

Laudna's just been having a good powerful MOPE while all of this has been going on ... yeah, of course she has ... oh FUCK OFF, Delilah. You're not welcome right now ... oh yeah, Fearne, great timing, snap her out of it!

Orym: "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you too terribly did I?" Laudna: "Oh, I think I can see a few ribs ..."

Yes ... please, come on you too, make up. You're FRIENDS, you mean so much to each other. MAKE UP. Yeah. That's it. Exactly that.

Yeah, exactly. Fuck Delilah, we just want our LAUDNA.

This is exactly it, yeah ... she's not alone, they're ALL carrying their own big mistake baggage, she's not alone in that ...

Awwwww ... Ashton's BIG SISTER Laudna ... I love it ... :3

Wow ... yeah, it may be a joke, but Chetney DOES have a point there ... Dorian's the one true innocent in the group now ... you poor sweet summer chaild ...

Nice move, Chet. Yeah, that works.

Oh, that's interesting ... yeah ... that pipe ... yeah ... that could be REALLY GOOD for Laudna right now ... go on, girl, take a puff ...don't be afraid, this can only HELP ...

And then Dorian comes in with the sweetest cap for all that ... awwww ... :3

AAAAAAND just like that Chetney's OUT. XD ... of course he is.

Spin the bottle? REALLY?!!! LOL ...

Wow ... not they're just getting ridiculous ... XD ... "Hammer time?" Yeah, that's the worst one yet ... "Chetney needs sleep"? Slightly better, maybe ...

More rest, at least ... which is needed ...

Liam'#s giving Orym a point of exhaustion for NECESSITIES ... of course he is ... wee selfless lad ... we love him but he does punish himself sometimes ...

THAT'S what the Gambler's Blade does? DORIAN!!! O.O

Essek is a bit ... MOODY this morning ... hmmmm ...

"I like pulp!" XD

Ah, so everything's ready for them ,then? Sweet ... cue gearing up montage ... LOL ... oh, and descriptions too ...

Hot Shots: Part Deux for Chetney ... XD

Oh shit ... that's right ... they're back from the Moon ... IS Orym a little different? And our boy's a bit toussled now ... yeah, that's CUTE, I'm sure ...

Imogen's wearing PANTS now? Okay ...

Dorian's wearing "THE SLUTTIEST SHIRT"! Cute ...

Nipple talk ... oh dear ... XD

Oh wow ... Laudna's kind of giving me some subtle Harrow the Ninth vibes right now ...with a touch of DELILAH too, which is ... worrying, just a little ... O.O

Ashley's alwasy SO GOOD at weaving a beautiful picture, she really is ... and a utility belt. Yeah ... :3

Ashton's rocking a CROPTOP right now? Awwwwww ... and a spike trade with Fearne, too ... cute ... ooooooh ... and "Smiley Day" ... oh man ... I love it ...

Matt makes a rather pointed "prepare your spells" statement that everybody IMMEDIATELY takes as SUSPICIOUS and I'm right along with them. What are you planning, Mercer?

Yeah ... that fucking bloody apron's just gonna leave a trail behind them THE WHOLE WAY ...

Divvying up stuff ... here we go, ten minutes of inventory bookkeeping while we wait for the game itself to start up again ... XD

Ah ... sucking up one Ring of Protection with the harness ... hmmm ...

Imogen's jealous of Essek's floating thing ... not surprising ...

Ooooh ... ExU: Calamity recap ... cute ...

A FEW tries? Oh, I don't like the sound of that ...

Wow ... they're all REALLY crossing their fingers ... XD

Rolling a D100? Oh fuck ... 14? Hmmmmm ... ouch ... oh, that didn't go well ... they went NOWHERE and took 11 points of Force damage each ... bugger ...

Second try ... ANOTHER roll ... 45? Okay ... SEEMS like the right place ... an abandoned encampment? Interesting ... oh, sounds like it's NOT where they should be, then ...

Lyrengorm? Where?

He can only do it ONCE MORE for the day? Bollocks ...

A final roll ... 61 ... MORE snow ... much colder ... Orym's ENTIRELY BURIED ... a particularly AGGRESSIVE mountain range this time ... some kind of VERY fancy castle ... oh, so we ARE in Eisselcross ... but we're not sure WHERE ... oof ...

Crap ... they've been spotted ... by SOMEBODY ... big lumbering somebodies ...

Undead ice giants? Yeesh ... yeah, better hide ... argh ...

Matt: "There's a reason you took a BOAT to Esselcross last time!"

And now it's time for a break ...

Do they run? Do they fly? WHAT DO THEY DO?!!! Hiding's obviously out of the question ... eep ...

A DISTANT Command on one of them? Risky, Imogen ... "HALT!!!" Oh, it doesn't work on undead? BALLS ...

And now one of them flung a rock ... BAIT & SWITCH!!! Nice save, Orym! Crunch ... STILL 26 points of damage ... ow ...

There's a whole BUNCH of 'em coming now ... AAAAAAAH!!!

Essek's trying a HIGHER level Teleport ... okay ... one more roll ... 48? Oh bollocks, Laura! This is so bad ...

DO NOT give Mercer ideas, Ashley! O.O

More snow ... elsewhere ... hmmmm ... Essek has no idea where they are ... great ...

Yes. Sniff the wind, Chetney ... the air is THINNER ... oh, they're AT ALTITUDE right now ... cute ... on a mountain, then ... that's just PEACHY ...

Oh, if they had something FROM Aeor? I mean THEY COULD just use a piece of FCG ...

Looking into Essek's memories, then ... O.O ... and a glimpse of Aeor ... it's all VERY dramatic ...

Aha, a specific anchoring point ... good idea ...

Laura: "Guidance? Will that help?" Matt: "No, but it's nice to have." XD

So, the Staff ... oh boy ... this could go SO BAD .... she rolls 99 for it ... well, that's ... potentially good?

A frozen woodland glade ... Huh?

Don't shoot the rabbits with your harp, Chetney. They'll only explode and that's not what ANYONE wants ...

An amber coloured dome of energy over them? Oh, yeah, that definitely rings a bell ... XD

At least it's nice and warm in here ... although they are in danger of getting buried under the snow before morning ...

Essek's just IMMEDIATELY going to sleep, then ...

Fearne, you're adorable ... :3

Chetney's going hunting. WITH THE HARP. Oh boy ...

And he shoots a boar? Oh, okay, I suppose that's too big to just blow up ... food!

There's a huge city out there? Hmmmm ... no chance that's Vasselheim, maybe?

Time for food, then ...

Another try at Teleporting, then ... roll AGAIN ... 53? Fuck ...

They land ON THE SLOPE of a mountain ... AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Another jump ... another roll ... 46? No, NINETY-six ... somewhere icy and cold ... oh, that's it, then. They made it ... phew ...

Yup, they're here. On the VERY EDGE of the ruins, then ...

Time for Stealth, then ... group check time ... oh boy ... fucking hell, Travis ... 41?!!! How the FUCK did you do THAT?!!!

Shit ... are those more of theose undead ice giants? Oh no ... gods, bo what to know WHAT these things are ... eep ... O.O

Going down into the gloomy underground darkness ...

ICE TROLLS?!!! Lovely ... yeah, just GO QUIETLY, please ...

It's getting STUPID tight in here ... this is NOT GOOD ... Chetney's going ahead to check the route ...

Oh, that's a DROP. Great ... now what?

So they have to climb down with the rope ... great ... oh, Chet wonders if he could ICE-CLIMB down? I really don't know about that ... oh, the Immovable Rod, that shoudl be helpful ...

Yeah, this couldn't possibly go wrong ... O.O

A ruined courtyard? Fascinating ... smelling for anything alive down here ... a clean must? Strange ...

So he's climbing down, then ... okay ... the others getting down will be ... INTERESTING ...

Oh yeah, some light might be helpful now ...

Bones? Frozen into the ice underfoot? Hmmm ... that could be ... problematic ... and some bodies too ... oh lovely ... there's SOMETHING unpleasant down here, clearly ...

Wait ... WHO is this? Oh ... FUCK ... shit! Oh, that is SWEET!!! Nice callback ... O.O

So, going EAST then ...

The Praesidis Ward? Hmmm ...

A giant cavern that was once a city ... weird ...

It's getting WARMER? Hmmm ...

Fearne has a point ... this DOES look like that weird ruined city in the cavern on Ruidus ...

Wait ... there's SCARY things down here to be on the lookout for? Way to bury the lead there, Essek ...

Yeah, DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING, people ...

He became a FISH. Really? Fascinating ...

Another Group Stealth check ... generally good rolls once more ...

Skeletons? Lots of them? Great ... this place is like a necromancer's wet dream ... I really hope this isn't where Mercer's heading with this ...

Grim Psychometry? IN HERE?!!! Whoa, Chet ...

That is ... troubling and not terribly infomrative, really ...

Crap ... was that a troll?

Moving on, then ...

Weird creepy corpse ... which wasn't there LAST TIME Essek passed through ... charming ... it IS moving, but, like, RIDICULOUSLY slow? Oh, that's unnerving ...

Imogen, AGAIN, don't touch ...

Oh, this seems like a nice, fancy place ... but Essek's not taking any chances with it, clearly ... and somebody's been through here, too ... hmmm ...

HE did this? Interesting ... well, at least he hasn't lost his sense of humour ...

Another cavern ... more industrial environs this time ... fascinating ... and it's curving UPWARDS as it goes ...

The Genesis Ward ...

It just smells of metal and water ... okay ...

So we have a specific destination now, then ...

What, try to home in on Ludinus' Harness? Could that work?

Oh, so there really ARE other things moving around in here besides the group ... that's disconcerting ...

A tent? Really? Well THAT is a pretty major sign of life ... I think they may have found what they're looking for ...

Arcane Eye? Cool ...

Oh, so something happened here ... something VIOLENT, according to the blood ... and CORPSES ... Ruby Vanguard? Oh wow ... THAT'S interesting ... this was ... relatively recent, looks like ...

More of an eagele's eye view of the cavern now ... a big jagged hole in the floor, off in the distance ... great ...

Heading in to take a look at the tent, then ...

So the deaths happened within a space of DAYS, then ... it looks like they all killed EACH OTHER?!!! O.O ... whoever did this was ENJOYING themselves? Charming ... and one of them killed HIMSELF ... and apparently was very HAPPY when he did it ... that's just LOVELY ...

It's a pretty nondescript knife, Imogen ...

Grim Psychometry again, then ... oh boy ...

Oh, so the elf was the one who killed them all ... really violently, with SIGNIFICANT manic strength ... carves soemthing into his chest ... and then kills himself too ... wow ...

Chetney DRAMATICALLY unveils the elf's chest ... a sigil ... what is it, then? Ask Essek ... he doesn;t recognise it ... Laudna casts Eyes of the Rune Keeper ... no joy, it seems ... hmmmmm ...

Oh ... Laudna asks DELILAH if she recognises it ... great ... she doesn't either ... great ...

Don't take a pee on the arcane time dome, Orym ...

Something's grinding out there ... stone on stone ...

A group stelth check, but grading everyone individually as they hide? Oh boy ...

Two groups, then ... roill well, guys ...

It's VERY TALL ... oh boy ... that is DISTURBING ... that's like ... it's a hood, but it DOESN'T actually have a head? Ye gods ... and it has a VERY BIG HAMMER it's gragging behind it ... and there's LOTS of teeth in a maw in its belly ... well THAT noise was just unsettling, Matthew ...

Fuck ... a whole bunch of creepy translucent scorpion-like creatures seem to crawl OUT OF IT ... charming ... and they're searching the area ...

Laudna just gave herself away ... and they're all going RIGHT FOR HER now ... oh fuck ...

And THIS is where Matt chooses to end it ... but not before he gives us a look at the Battlemap for next session ... and it's MASSIVE ...

Oh, this is gonna be a SCARY encounter to start things off next time ... But it's the end of the month, so that's gonna be a FORTNIGHT'S wait ...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

#critical role #crit role campaign 3 #crit role spoilers #campaign 3 spoilers #matt mercer #marisha ray #laudna #travis willingham #chetney pock o'pea #laura bailey #imogen temult #liam o'brien #orym of the air ashari #ashley johnson #fearne calloway #taliesin jaffe #ashton greymoore #robbie daymond #dorian storm #sam riegel