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#*/angrily spams keyboard
trimisu · 7 months
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If somebody told me that applying school online would be a pain in the ass, I'm seriously listening to them
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kairiscorner · 9 months
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ok but like it's canon in the comics that miguel's not as good at tech compared to biology. so imagine...
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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lyla was apparently resetting herself and would be unresponsive for a few hours, but it seemed he had no choice. coming from the future, he has little clue about how technology in the 20th century was supposed to work, but luckily, you were a natural at using 20th century technology! unluckily, miguel was too prideful to ask you for any help. the rest of the society had decided to resort to cell phones to contact each other for the time being, though it wasn't as great as the watches, it was at least useful for something. however, only one person remained to be clueless about these cell phones, and ironically, it's the guy from the future, miguel o'hara himself.
he had asked jess and peter b how to use a phone, but they, unsurprisingly, only know how to use it when someone calls--they don't even know how to facetime properly. he asked ben to help him since he classified as 'part of the youth', but his explanation was full of onomatopoeias and edgy narrating that miguel was totally lost. you approached miguel as he was practically snarling at his phone's screen, not being used to calling an AI assistant who wasn't lyla to fetch him information on the anomalies you all were monitoring, but the only search results siri gave him were the definition of anomaly and earth-1218 search results from fan pages.
"hey mig." you greeted him as miguel sighed and tried to compose himself. "how are you holding up?" you asked him, knowing full well he was losing his mind over the countless notifications he was getting from his chats from peter b that were all just pictures of mayday and his keyboard mashing over how cute his daughter was. "i'm barely holding on, to be honest." he said as he forcefully scrolled on the screen, which ended up in it being scuffed and scratched on by his talons.
"puta." he muttered as he looked at the now scratched screen. you took the phone from his hands and asked him what he was going to do, with him explaining he just wanted to dismiss the incessant notifications from peter b. you set his phone on a 'do not disturb' mode and shut off his notifications from peter b in an instant. "that's all you have to do, really." you explained as you handed the phone back to him, with his eyes following yours as you smiled up at him. "ah, thank you." he said as he took his reading glasses and tried to read a text that came his way. "congratulations, you have won a 100,000 dollars. email this contact to claim your reward... but i didn't do anything?" he remarked aloud, confused. "oh, that's spam. just ignore it, delete i--" he was calling the fucking number.
"hello? yeah, i didn't play any game. you texted me about a prize i didn't win, i think you have the wrong number. ...what do you mean i have to email you? just forward the message to the right individual. ...no, i'm not gonna email you, we're talking right now! look, i don't even want your prize, i make more than six figures a month. ...what do you mean you need my credit card information? hijo de puta, i'm not the guy you're looking for!" miguel screamed into the phone as he spoke to the scammer. you wanted to tell him to drop the call, but seeing him scare the scammer had made you want to watch this unfold. he was screaming curse words in spanish and repeating how he doesn't need any prizes from these hacks.
"on second thought, always call the number." you murmured to him as he angrily put the phone down. "shocking idiots, is the 20th century full of guys who can't double check numbers and force you to email them when you're already talking to them over the phone?" he asked you as you nodded slowly with a slight grin. miguel shook his head as he checked the progress on lyla's update. "17 more hours of this madness." he groaned as he buried his face in his palms. "well, you can always go on... i don't know, tiktok?" "no. we're stuck on earth 1218's internet, i've been warned by peter b it's a scary place i should never visit." "i wonder why..." you muttered as you avoided his gaze and smirked.
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold
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Spam Call - A Transformers Short
In which Optimus learns about spam callers and decides to try and enter into the chaos ring the humans and Wheeljack have going to answer them. (The characterization may not be completely accurate, but I wanted Chaos Prime himself to activate for everyone to see.)
Jack groaned as his phone started ringing, hoping it wasn't his mother. He took it out, only to see the unknown caller ID on his screen. He snorted, smirking down at it for a moment.
"Miko, you called dibs on this one. Here." Jack tossed his phone to her and they cackled before answering on speaker phone.
"Helllooooo you have reached alien tech support, how can I assist you in deciphering human technology? Is it a language problem? Is the screen too small? Do you need to order a new keyboard?" Miko chirped into the phone.
Optimus watched with veiled curiosity as Miko paused, listening to the phone. The telemarketer sputtered for a bit before managing to speak.
"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number."
"Oh, that's alright. You will have an agent with you soon to erase your memories of this number since you don't need it! Remain stationary, if at all possible. Thank you, human!" Miko giggled before hanging up. They tossed Jack's phone back.
"What was that?" Optimus found himself asking.
"We have this annoying thing that happens...uh...spam callers or telemarketers. Their thing is either staying silent, being AI, or wanting to sell things. Miko got one that wasn't a dud just now, on Jack's phone. Our challenge is usually to just spout the most unhinged crap at them to get them to leave us alone." Raf explained, a slight smile quirking into place.
"We usually call dibs when we're together." Miko added, her grin holding so much mischief. "Wheeljack has answered one of my spam calls once to mess with them."
"Can confirm. I did a spiel in Kalius at them and then waited. They hung up pretty quickly." Wheeljack chuckled. "Might try Vossian next if I get the chance. Maybe Prax."
"Oh my Primus, Wheeljack! Why did you do that? We're trying to stay secret from as many humans as possible!" Ratchet scolded.
"What? Sometimes Miko answers in Japanese! I had to see how fun it would be with some of our languages." Wheeljack defended himself. "Plus, Tolkien was crazy enough to invent a new language so there."
---
The first spam call that Optimus was allowed to answer was on Agent Fowler's phone. It was a late night, Fowler was napping on the couch as Optimus was working on the last bits of paperwork and grumbled as he opened and held the phone up.
Optimus calmly spoke in the language only Primus' chosen could easily speak. It sounded a bit like music to the ear, except too mechanical. He calmly asked if the spam caller was looking for religious freedom through the Highest.
The telemarketer tried to ask a few questions, but Optimus only spoke in that Primacian language in reply.
Then the caller hung up.
Optimus grinned a little to himself and straightened up as Fowler resumed his nap on the couch, going back to doing paperwork.
Ratchet looked as though he'd gotten whiplash from that and Optimus shrugged a bit at him. Ratchet decided to go lay down for a while after.
---
The next time Optimus took a spam call was when everyone was present.
The children watched with interest as Optimus delicately pressed the button with a thin stylus as he balanced the phone in his massive hand before clearing his throat and going on a wild tangent in the Kaos language.
The language of Kaon was one that he wasn't quite as fluent in, but he got the point across that he was very "irritated" and very "willing to hunt people down". When in reality he was just angrily reciting a recipe for chocolate chip cookies.
Arcee's eyes widened and she started to laugh a little. Bee looked almost bewildered as Optimus shouted.
The caller had hung up midway through and Optimus started to laugh a bit as he realized.
"What was that?" Raf asked with awe.
"The recipe for chocolate chip cookies that Optimus had translated over to use for this. He planned this, kids. I need you to know that." Arcee cackled. "He used the language of Kaon just to yell the recipe for chocolate chip cookies at a spam caller."
Miko started to laugh in disbelief.
"The Prime has a sense of humor, wowww." Wheeljack commented.
"Welllll...let's say I didn't quite grow out of mischief completely." Optimus—or was that Orion just now saying hello?—hummed with ease, passing the phone back to Raf.
Miko giggled a bit and started to think about what pranks they could talk Optimus into. Jack and Raf looked as though they were concerned about her plotting.
"So I wasn't hallucinating from lack of recharge." Ratchet commented grumpily. "Good to know."
Arcee seemed to sober up for a moment, if only to ask the question that everyone had now.
"What do you mean?"
Ratchet sighed heavily, glaring over his shoulder at Optimus, who gestured innocently for Ratchet to speak. The medic shook his head with slight annoyance.
"Optimus answered a spam call last night from Fowler's phone. He used the Prima language—which I don't even understand—to spook a caller into hanging up." Ratchet explained. Optimus grinned.
"I did." Optimus agreed before intentionally starting to speak it again. "It's a fun language to use so that no one can understand what I mean by anything."
Ratchet looked more annoyed. "Shut the actual pit up."
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clickonmedotexe · 5 months
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Eric spams Vir with Caramelldansen just because he can
"Shut up shut UP SHUT UP!" Vir yells and tries to push the computer off the desk, in an attempt to break it on the ground. His body is too weak to manage to push the whole thing off, so he just sort of punches it. Then he grabs the keyboard, yanks it away and smashes it over the computer's top angrily.
The entire time it feels like he is not in control of the body, like the rage is making it act differently than he would've liked.
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karlsjackbox · 3 years
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never lose sight | irlquackity x gn!reader
QUACKITY PRIDES himself in not getting jealous. until karl.
hey! can i request an angst to fluff irl!quackity? ive been in the mood for some jealous quackity// wuackity misunderstanding a situation hehe
type: angst - fluff (not vv angsty . . )
warnings: jealousy, swears & fluff <3
w/c: 681
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quackity adjusted his beanie, laughing loudly as karl made a joke on the stream. it was just the pair today, messing around on random games they found on roblox. they were playing a random skateboarding one currently, karl trying to do flips but constantly flying off of the map. quackity's hands slammed down onto the desk, trying to regulate his breathing again.
y/n smiled as their boyfriend laughed, sat on their bed as they watched the stream. ignoring as chat begun chanting their name, noticing them in the viewers. they typed a quick hello chat!! u all smell x, grinning as quackity read the message and started to whine.
"y/n?? y/n's in chat?" quackity read the messages, gasping as he read their message. "Y/N MY CHAT DOES NOT SMELL!!" he yelled, karl's higher laughter playing through the headphones. "y/n? isn't that your s/o?" karl asked once the pair calmed down, quackity humming.
"sure is." quackity approved, changing the scene to just his face as he closed out of roblox. "karl and y/n stream when??" karl questioned, quackity rolling his eyes.
that's how they got here. quackity sat beside y/n as their hands hovered over the keyboard, headphones sat on their head as they conversed with karl. they wandered around the dream smp, going as slow as they could, punching everything they saw out of spite.
y/n let out a loud laugh at something karl said which quackity barely caught, instead reading the chat as they spammed about y/n and karl's jokes. quackity rubbed his eyes, y/n turning and looking at him with a huge grin. he couldn't help but smile back, ignoring the thoughts plaguing his mind. when was the last time they smiled this much at me? y/n shifted wordlessly as the stream hit the two hour mark, quackity looking at them oddly.
y/n turned to him again with a softer smile, quackity nodding and taking over to end the stream. "thank you chat for-for coming out today to watch my two favorite people stream!! i'm uhhh, sending you guys off to ranboo!!" smiling, the stream ended and y/n let out a heavy breath. they disconnected the headphones and leaned back in the chair, quackity rubbing his eyes.
"that was fun, y/n! we should do that again sometime," karl spoke through the speaker, y/n humming. "yeah! that was a lot of fun. you're really funny." the younger complimented, quackity rolling his eyes from beside them.
"so are you! chat loved you tonight." the simple compliment brought a wave of heat to y/n's face, grinning. "thank you," they spoke softly.
quackity pushed himself out of the chair, leaving the room angrily. y/n frowned rubbing their eyes. "i have to cut this conversation short. something's up with quackity." the pair said their goodnights, y/n ending the discord call and shutting off the pc.
following quackity out of the room, y/n leaned in the doorway as the other shifted his clothes off. raising an eyebrow, the two made eye contact.
"off the call so soon?" quackity spoke after a second, tension rising in the room. crossing their arms, y/n stared at him. "mhm, whats up with you?" they pushed off of the doorframe and moved so they sat beside the older. quackity's shoulders slouched.
"you got along with karl so well.." he muttered, making y/n turn to face him. "and that should be good, my two favorite people getting along but i just.." his words trailed off, y/n not speaking until he finished.
y/n took quackity's cheeks in their hands, turning him to face them. "i don't like him like that. you're my person." they spoke softly, foreheads leaning into each other. quackity let out a shaky sigh, nodding. "i'm your person?" he asked again, making y/n roll their eyes. "yes." they teased softly, quackity pulling y/n down so they laid on top of him.
"good. because you're my person." he muttered, the pair cuddling in silence.
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poutybinz · 4 years
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hueningkai wasn’t an idiot.
sure, he was a little naive at times. a bit simple minded in that he preferred to live life a little unaware. he may not have been an idiot, but he was delusional.
that much he knew and yet still he found himself running to you, wanting to envelop himself in everything that was considered to be you. hueningkai called you at least six times a day, and that went down to two when you started to respond angrily at him bothering you so much. it then went down to once every week, and even then you still didn’t answer.
i’m sure they’re just busy. i’ll just text them instead! he would tell himself.
so he began sending walls of texts to you, mostly declarations of love paired with essentially a questionnaire on how your day was followed by a continuous spam of every heart emoji on an apple keyboard. and then he would set his phone down with the intent of leaving you be, but he couldn’t stop himself from checking for a response.
seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, and nothing for the entire day. he knew it was pathetic, and he could see his hyungs giving him pitiful looks each time he picked up his phone, but you were like a spell.
an addiction, a habit he couldn’t break. he craved your attention, any little bit would do. the sheer joy that filled him when you sent a simple, “thanks. hope you’re doing well.” it was embarrassing, but still he smiled. he smiled so hard his cheeks hurt, and his heart fluttered in his chest. excitement filled his entire body and he couldn’t wait to hear more from you.
if i keep this up maybe they’ll talk to me today...or should i just wait a bit so i’m not being overbearing? i don’t want to scare them off…
his fingers hovered over his keyboard, eager to shower you in more compliments. to tell you about his day and inquire about yours, to tell you that he loved you so much. however, the internal conflict within his mind told him that it was hopeless.
why do i even bother? they won’t respond for days anyways.
hueningkai exhaled heavily as his phone tumbled out of his hands and onto the soft material of his bed, his own body following right after. what was wrong with him? why was he so infatuated with you, you couldn’t even bother to give him the time of day anymore.
when he thought back to the beginning of your relationship, it made his heart ache. it filled him with this bittersweet feeling of nostalgia and despair, because he knew he’d never see you like that again. the days of you running off the bus to greet him before school, sharing milkshakes and playlists while giggling and taking silly pictures of each other; having deep talks while laying in an empty park staring up at the endless sky.
it was traded for annoyed eye rolls and distance. silent car rides filled with awkward tension, staring out of the window and watching the world go by. it was traded for embarrassing moments like huening trying to hold your hand and you snatching it away, or him standing outside of your class waiting for you only to find out that you left without him.
it was traded for isolation. deep, painful loneliness. an aching hole in his heart that once was filled to the brim with nothing but you but was now replaced with bitterness. it fucking hurt.
frustration began to build within hueningkai, and suddenly he was whipping his phone into a nearby wall. blind rage came next, throwing his stuffed animals and ripping the blankets from his bed before letting out an exasperated screech.
what was he doing wrong? what could he do to fix it? why wouldn’t you talk to him? all he wanted was you, and he hated it. he hated himself, he hated that he loved you so much.
“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you!” he howled, punching his pillow over and over again before flinging it into his curtains and screaming once again.
soobin came running in, eyes widening at the disaster that had become of hueningkai’s room. he had never seen him angry, much less angry enough to destroy his own things. “hyuka! huening, what's wrong!”
he stepped around his stuffed animals, trying to take care in not stepping on them before kneeling down in front of the younger. huening screamed again, balled up fists landing square in soobin’s broad chest, slamming them down like he were banging on someone’s door.
soon, he collapsed in a heap. like a child that had ran themselves tired, he fell into soobin’s arms and wept. weeks of pent up tears that he tried his best to swallow in the hopes that maybe you would come around.
that maybe you’d one day love him again. that maybe you were just going through something, and that you didn’t truly fall out of love. that maybe this was all some sort of cruel prank and you’ll show up at his door with snacks and your nintendo switch like you used to and you’ll embrace him and tell him you love him.
but you wouldn’t. you never would.
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floraisann · 4 years
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ateez reaction: you’re addicted to animal crossing: new horizons
➣ requested? ✓
➣ genre: fluff, humor
➣ masterlist
sorry that some of these are kinda dry 😔 i am try
❅♩♬♩❅――
❥ kim hongjoong:
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lets you do your thing tbh
you’ll probably just be vibing in the living room with the switch hooked up to the tv and everything’s great when hongjoong just,,,, moves his work over without saying anything
you’re just ???? and he’s just :)))) the “just another tuesday” grin, you know?
after long enough if you ask him why he moved, he just says he “likes the soundtrack” like bro we do be bopping to the animal crossing ost out here in this quarantine joint
watches you play, only making comments when a villager says something REALLY cursed
really likes marshal— he’s funny
not the type to hate villagers either except chops, fuck chops
once yunho shows him how the custom qr code outfit designs work you’re about to have the most stylish lil mayor that ever roamed the earth
probably also borrows your switch to make your town jingle
overall is just confused by the game dynamic, but likes the music and how happy it’s making you :)
you’re gonna have to put the switch down on your own honey, he’s too caught up in bopping to the music while doing his own work to realize you’ve been playing for eight hours
❥ park seonghwa
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has the game too, probably bought it for you so you could build “couple islands” and be THAT cute gamer couple
still probably nags you for gaming too hard if too many hours pass and you’re ignoring basic needs to like,,,, get lolly on your island or something of the sort
but lolly’s cute give him 5 mins to fall in love w god cat
sends you cute in-game love letters when you’re headass six feet away from each other in real time
but it’s ok they’re cute and he likes making you blush
brings his pretty flowers to your island he also steals yours but that’s okay
dumbfounded by your blatant aggression towards certain villagers
offers to “trade” villagers with you to make you happy and marshal scares him please take marshal from him
yes he’ll bring you cute snacks as if you were studying
overall happy that you found something you enjoy together, but will make you take frequent breaks so you don’t put off whatever you actually have to do too much
❥ jeong yunho
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didn’t get the hype at first. bought the game since he thought it had to be super fun if you were ignoring him for hours at a time to go bug catching LMFAO
yet when he downloads it there’s a catch
mr epic gamer, unlike you, has the luck of a god and generates an actual island paradise and probably gets a ton of shooting star fragments too 😔✊🏻
you’re the one stealing from his island, but it’s okay he loves you 💕
and he doesn’t quite understand the game yet
gives you star fragments because you can’t get any and he doesn’t want you all sad because you can’t make a wand!!
has all the cute villagers, but if any try to move will give them to you
pays off your tom nook debt because with his luck it probably takes him less than an hour to get filthy rich in game
also figures out the qr code outfits early on. yes he’ll try to make you one, yes he’ll make himself match
overall, he gets the game because of you but does it better because it’s yunho why wouldn’t he xoxo
still makes sure you’re doing what you need to before you go off to work on your island for six hours; the type to offer game rewards he magically obtains as a prize for you after you finish your daily work
oh to be jeong yunho
❥ kang yeosang
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the president of the epic gamer club
probably persuaded you to buy it with him so he could rob your island of all your goods
makes you both reset the game until your islands both have good items but are different
so he can steal your fruit :D
“y/n, you— no, restart. you can’t have peach trees, i already have peach trees!”
“dates” where you guys lie on his bed with your consoles, literally just exploring each other’s islands
y’all practically end up sharing two islands. that’s how much you play together
invites you to go raid the other members’ islands
cursed humor carries into the game; like he’ll send you crackhead mail when you least expect it and the content WILL be something that’s only funny because it’s Yeosang
“you make me so incredibly happy, y/n. almost as happy as when tom nook first handed me my nookphone. almost”
celebrates with you when you’re both rid of the ugly villagers
overall impartial to your obsession, rather he’s glad he has someone to steal from share with
still will make you take breaks with him. he loves that you’ve got a pretty island but you need to take care of yourself sweetie
if you don’t listen he will randomly come on your island to beat you up with a shovel xoxo yeosang luvs u 😘
❥ choi san
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would not mind the game at all if it weren’t making you IGNORE HIS NEED FOR CUDDLES >:(
tbh san would probably whine about being attention starved for an eternity 15 mins until he realizes his whining isn’t working, and he has no choice but to cuddle up to you while letting you do your thing
by that i mean he’s backseat gamer all the way, no i do not accept criticism
he’d probably just plop down next to you and cuddle into your side or lay on top of you— just positioning himself in some way that he can see your gameplay
the type to cling to you while you play while bothering you until you accept his game opinions as fact
can and will make you kick out the villagers he thinks are ugly
“i just want you to kick that smelly limberg out, is that really too much to ask?”
probably spent 10 minutes absolutely losing his shit over the animal crossing language
“WHY ARE THEY TALKING IN KEYBOARD SMASH?”
takes the next half hour to learn how to speak it
so next time you play too long and ignore him, will shut off your switch then lay down on you and scream acnh villager language gibberish in your EAR
"you didn’t have a problem with that voice three hours ago when you were talking to that cat rosie!!” :(
if you really ignore him and never stop playing NOTHING is stopping him from being dramatic and saying smth like “y/n, i can’t take this anymore! choose, me or him!”
“him” is tom nook
why the fuck would you pick tom nook
❥ song mingi
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knows the game is popular but wasn’t bothered to try playing
so when he sees you, curled up on the couch in the same position he saw you two hours ago just with one less family sized bag of chips, he quietly sighs to himself and sits next to you
“is the game really that interesting?”
when you nod, he ends up like san and kind of chills with you, backseat gaming mode
except he isn’t yelling at you to kick out the ugly villagers, he can already see you trying on your own
gets shocked when the first tarantula appears and you get bitten
occasionally gives input on what he thinks you can do to have a better island
makes you go on an island tour so he can see what you headass just spent the last week making
actually is impressed by how much work you put into your virtual island
congrats! you’ve unlocked an achievement! : gaming livestream date for song mingi
will decide for himself who the cutest villager is then act cute and ask if he looks like them. it’s probably gonna be kid cat. tell him he does. please, Tell Him he looks like kid cat
basically i don’t think he’d be that put off by you getting addicted to the game because!!! acnl is the most relaxing game ever he likes to watch you while he unwinds after a long day
if you play too long though he won’t really say much, just sit by you pouting like :(((( “lov me”
pls love him, the big babie 🥺
❥ jeong wooyoung
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another member that probably has the game, but isn’t as obsessed as you
will beg you for shooting star fragments if you get any though. please get this man a wand
does not get WHY you’re trying so hard on your island layout. literally only wants one villager, his island can go to shit so long as he has that one villager
that one villager is probably gonna be molly or something
another member who learns how to imitate animal crossing speak, except his voice is already in the correct pitch
makes fun of you complaining about a villager you hate but it all comes back to bite him in the ass once moose shows up on his island and he gets it
you guys are having a competition to see who can get sprinkle on your island first
spoiler alert: he wins, he stole her from seonghwa
(he steals a lot from seonghwa)
overall happy with the fact that you guys have a game to play together
but if you grind too hard on your own and ignore him for hours at a time can and will invade your island to steal your fruit and trample your flowers. AND send you spam mail
sorry
❥ choi jongho
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doesn’t care for the game, and he’s mostly chill too so he’ll probably just vibe in the other room while you play, waiting for you to finish so he can do something with you
comes out a few hours later when you’re (still) lying on the couch, angrily button mashing while muttering curses to yourself
he’s really confused tbh, he’s seen yeosang play, he knows you don’t gotta go that hard to be a successful mayor, so he HAS to ask what the fuck you’re so mad about
“i’m TRYING to catch a blittering at the moment, but i keep getting these stupid carps!!! i have a debt to pay off, god!!”
becomes infinitely more amused with the game after that point
he thinks its so funny how someone could get heated while playing through probably the most relaxing game ever
watches you fish; he enjoys the puns and seeing you get frustrated when you keep catching those goddamn carps
probably takes the switch from you at one point to try his hand at it and catches a koi fish in his first five minutes
“i guess you just suck at fishing, y/n”
overall pretty unbothered by your love for the game until you start ignoring him
then he will threaten your in-game apples, saying he’s .2s away from stealing one of his members’ switches just to brawl with your trees
and we all know who’s gonna win between jongho and apples
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✻ Ichi-go, Ichi-e (Baekhyun Byun) Gets Better
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📑 Table of Contents
Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slice of Life
Word Count: 1,241
Pairing: Reader x Baekhyun
World: EXO
Prompt: #22, “It’ll get better, right?”
Author’s Note: This was written for @challengingwords​ writing challenge.
━━━━━━༻ ✻ ༺━━━━━━
“Calm down and tell me what happened.” Baekhyun gently took you by the shoulders, his concerned eyes meeting yours.
You shook your head angrily and he was sure he could see steam coming from your ears. “No, you won’t understand!”
“You won’t know that until you tell me.” His lips met your forehead. “Breathe, baby. In and out.”
You mirrored his deep breathing, your head feeling lighter as your anger lowered to annoyance. He slid the desk chair over, motioning for you to take a seat as he kneeled in front of you, holding onto your knees to steady himself.
“Now, tell me how you feel.”
You rolled your eyes at the amused glint in his own orbs. “Not funny, Baek.”
He pouted. “You don’t like the idea of me being your therapist?”
“Pretty sure it’s morally wrong to sleep with your patients.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, Byun Baekhyun.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He wrinkled his nose, lightly smacking your outer thigh. “Stop avoiding the subject. Tell me or I’ll be forced to cuddling you until you give me the info I want!”
Despite yourself, you smiled which made him beam with pride at his accomplishment. “I hate you,” ‘Because you always make me smile no matter how upset I am,’
“Hmm, my spidey senses say otherwise.” Baekhyun wiggled his eyebrows.
“Ew,”
“Y/N~”
“Fine!” You threw your head back and began to recall your story of woe.
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You loved to write stories and chose to post them on a site called Tumblr because you liked being able to customize your blog. What you chose to write was mostly fanfiction about your favorite fandoms, which helped you to meet people that thought the say way you did and liked the same things. Baekhyun didn’t know anything about this site that its users called a hell-site, but being the supportive boyfriend that he is, he always patiently listened to you every time you needed to rant about the site.
And Tumblr certainly is not a site without its fair share of problems.
You liked to keep your queue rather full so you didn’t spam your followers. That way, if you had a long day or simply didn’t feel like posting, you could relax without having to worry. You pulled up your masterlist so you update it with that day’s posts, but when you clicked on the link, however, a sense of dread filled your body. The once colorful links were now white, the default text color for your theme. Why were the links gone? You had over three-hundred stories at this point and the links were gone.
You were on the verge of panicking.
Had you messed up something when you edited the post yesterday? You were sure you hadn’t, so then why? Trying to calm yourself, you messaged your friend, sending the link and asking them to see if the links were there for them. Surprisingly, she reported that the links were fine, all intact as they should be. She also reported, though, that she believed the site had a link limit per post and guessed the number to be around one hundred.
You tried pulling up the post on your phone – the links were intact and working as they should be. So then, why were the links whited out when you pulled the post up on your computer? ‘Well… as long as my followers can see them,’ you frowned at the screen, trying to put it out of your mind.
After adding the new links, you clicked over to the tags page, relieved to see the colorful links, but after adding a couple new tags and saving, they also whited out. “You have got to be kidding me…”
You quickly debated with yourself on created an external list somewhere because the thought of having multiple masterlists and a rabbit hole of links per fandom made you feel queasy, but you worried that your followers would not be happy with a masterlist on a site outside of Tumblr. And then you remembered the existence of pages.
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“It’ll get better, right?” Baekyun interrupted you, feeling his temples start to throb at the tale.
“Shush, you’re ruining the mood!” You cleared your throat, picking up where you left off.
Baekyun felt like his mind was going insane, but he remained quiet, trying to keep up with the words leaving your lips.
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If you just added a new page with your theme rather than getting fancy with customized HTML, it should work just fine for mobile users. At first, you simply copy-pasted the list, but that did not work – for some reason, it made the text black which could barely be seen against the dark grey background of the post.
With a scowl, you deleted the page and tried again. ‘Okay, paste as plain text, then… yes, it worked!’ While the links were not there, all of the text was, which would save you some time. You did feel slightly annoyed by the lack of a header option, though, but it was fine because the preview looked quite nice, so you continued your work.
It took you nearly three hours, with distractions, to finally re-link everything and clean up your blog. The preview was perfect so you saved the page, feeling excited to finally look upon your hard work. You copied the link to the page, pasted it into the browser, and clicked enter.
Your heart sunk like the damn titanic.
The links were whited out, not a single one intact.
“Son of a bitch!” Your face fell to the keyboard with a thunk and you groaned, a mixture of frustration and pain coursing through you. “Stupid, idiotic, bastard hell-site! Why are you like this, huh?! Why are you doing this to me, huh?! Are you trying to make me lose it?!”
Baekhyun cautiously slipped into the roam, unsure how to feel as he watched his partner gripping both sides of the computer monitor, screaming questions at it as if it weren’t just an inanimate object. He had seen you freak out at the computer on more than a couple of occasions, but this? This was definitely new.
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“And that’s when you stopped me.” You huffed in annoyance, folding your arms across your chest as you sent your boyfriend an accusing look.
“Babe… I stopped you because you picked up a bat.”
“And? It was just wood, it would’ve been fine.”
He sighed, bringing his hand to his forehead. “That computer is expensive, you know.”
“It’s Tumblr’s fault for being such a dick!”
“If the site upsets you so much, why don’t you just stop using it?”
You recoiled back as if he had just made a move to strike you, the wheeled chair sliding back a bit. “I could never do that, Baek!”
“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”
“Because I love it, obviously!” You responded matter-of-factly, sending him a look as if he should know this information.
Baekhyun deadpanned. “Why am I dating you again?”
“Because you love me~” You grinned, sliding the chair back over to him.
“That’s debatable.” He tried to keep a straight face but failed, lips curling up into a smile as he pulled you into his arms. You returned the smile, hand gripping his so you could bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss upon his knuckles.
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The term “Ichi-go, Ichi-e” literally means “one time, one moment”. As explained in [this] article, it is meant to act as a reminder that we should treasure every moment because it will never recur again. I thought that was beautiful, so I decided to use that as the title for this set.
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Wassail
Well, I don’t know what happened. I didn’t have an idea, I wanted to write something short, but lo and behold the next story for @drawlight‘s advent challenge is the longest and most complicated yet.
I’m rather fond of the AU that I seem to have created here. It came as a pleasant surprise.
12: Caroling (3,379)
Die Hoffnung und Beständigkeit Gibt Trost und Kraft zu jeder Zeit. O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum! Das soll dein Kleid mich lehren.
Aziraphale sighed, applauding with the rest of the audience. “Oh, I do love Christmas carols,” he said, smiling towards the demon standing beside him.
“You would,” Crowley grunted, tapping at the keys of his new-fangled Blackberry. He shot a glare through his dark glasses at the dozen singers gathered under a tree coated with twinkling lights. “Du denkst du bist schlau. Singe etwas das wir alle verstehen können.”
“Crowley!” Aziraphale took a step away, adjusting his lapels, hoping no one thought they were here together. “I’ve told you before, if you don’t stop heckling, I won’t bring you along.”
“Promise?” Crowley growled, bending back over the keyboard of his tiny computer.
Aziraphale tutted, turning back to the singers with an expectant smile.
The angel Gabriel from heaven came. His wings as drifted snow, his eyes as flame: “All hail,” said he, “thou lowly maiden Mary. Most highly favored lady.”
As soon as the song started, Aziraphale felt his smile fall, though he struggled to keep it in place lest Crowley see.
He didn’t even look up, just snorted, “There’s one I haven’t heard in a while. Let’s go. I don’t want to hear about that wanker.” He brushed past, elbowing his way through the crowd while Aziraphale hurried to catch up. “Hau kultural jabetze da,” Crowley called over his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Aziraphale reminded him as they moved back towards the busier parts of the winter festival.
“Why? He’s your boss, not mine. In fact, I’m supposed to not like him.”
“Still. I would prefer if you remained civil while we were in public.”
Crowley shrugged, brushing his long hair back out of his face, never looking up to acknowledge the carts of street food, the lights, the seasonal entertainments.
“What can possibly be so entertaining about that…that machine?” Aziraphale snapped.
“They put the internet into a phone. Genius!”
“I don’t know what that means,” the angel said, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.
“It means,” Crowley continued blithely, “that I can get into all kinds of trouble from anywhere in the city.” He finally glanced up, long enough to wiggle his eyebrows. “I am going to take spam to a whole new level.”
“Please do not explain that.”
“Well, I need to do something to keep myself entertained!”
“There’s plenty to keep you entertained.”
“What, this?” Crowley waved a dismissive hand. “Consumerism. Gluttony. Really bad music. Nothing real about any of it.”
Aziraphale tried not to look hurt. “Well, isn’t there anything about the season you like?”
The fingers paused in their dance across the keyboard. “I like wassailing, I suppose.”
“Of course you do.” Back in the Middle Ages, wassailing had always ended in gangs of drunken young men demanding food and drink at houses in the villages, causing all kinds of chaos and damage if they didn’t get it. He had been glad when the tradition had died out, and that it had revived as the much more stately and dignified caroling in the Victorian era.
“Now what is that supposed to mean?”
“Only that wassailing is exactly the sort of thing I would expect a demon to enjoy.”
“You don’t need to sound so disapproving.” The fingers typed more furiously than ever.
“I only meant…there are some holiday traditions we’re better off without.” No, that sounded worse. Aziraphale immediately wished he could call the words back.
Crowley finally shoved the blackberry into his pocket. “If that’s how you feel, I think I’m better off without this tradition.” He shot a scowl his curtain of red hair. “Enjoy your festival.”
“Crowley…” but the demon had already stormed away.
--
Aziraphale didn’t hear from him all though December, which really wasn’t a surprise; the demon didn’t bother to come visit on New Year’s, which was unusual, but not alarming.
As the month of January began to pass, though, he grew nervous. The last time they’d parted angrily, they’d wound up not speaking for over eighty years. This disagreement surely hadn’t been so bad, Crowley couldn’t still be upset six weeks later…and yet still, no word.
Finally, on the 17th of January, Aziraphale called Crowley’s flat.
“…you know what to do, do it with style. <beep>”
“Crowley. Crowley! I know you’re there, don’t ignore me. Crowley!”
A long pause, then…
“What is it, Angel?”
“There you are! I was beginning to think – oh never mind.” Aziraphale had promised himself to be calm and reasonable. “Where have you been?”
“Indulging in holiday traditions we’re better off without.”
“Really! Crowley, there’s no need for you to be…stand-offish.”
“I’m not being stand-offish. I’m in a great mood. Very sociable.”
“Are you.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t approve, would you?” A heavy sigh. “Look, Angel, I don’t want to argue. I have people to meet. We can talk later.”
“People?” But the line was dead. Crowley had hung up on him.
Now Aziraphale was furious. He very nearly miracled himself to Mayfair to give Crowely a piece of his mind. Then again, there was the slight possibility that something demonic was afoot, in which case the sudden arrival of an angel would cause rather a large disaster.
If that was the case, though, why wouldn’t Crowley have said something? No, he hadn’t even tried to speak in clever code. This wasn’t business, this was him giving Aziraphale the brush-off.
After pacing furiously across the book shop for five minutes, the angel reached his decision.
He opened up a map of London and concentrated on a bit of magic he’d lain down decades ago, in case Crowley ever needed to be rescued from his own foolish risks. After a moment, he was able to sense the exact location of the Bentley – nothing was visible, the trick was all in his mind, but using the map he could track it as it traveled through the city.
Except that, almost immediately, it turned onto a major road and drove southwest, crossing out of London entirely. Aziraphale fumbled until he found a larger map of southern England. This would be cruder, but with some concentration he could still detect the car racing through Surrey, Hampshire, Wiltshire, and Somerset.
When the Bentley finally came to a stop, it appeared to be in the middle of nowhere.
Where was that atlas? Aziraphale flipped through map after map. Not Bath. Not Taunton. Not Wells or Glastonbury. He finally settled on a village named Chilton Stoke, not even four hundred people. What in Heaven’s name was Crowley doing there?
The Bentley didn’t move for half an hour. Or for an hour.
After more than ninety minutes, Aziraphale decided he should investigate.
--
Teleporting to a strange location took ten minutes of preparation, even with the Bentley as a focus. Aziraphale arrived as subtly as possible, but there was nothing demonic going on at all.
The Bentley sat outside the village post office. There didn’t seem to be anyone about, but he could feel Crowley somewhere out among the farms, and started in that direction.
The air was chilly, but clear and crisp, the sky just starting to darken towards sunset. There were plenty of tracks across the thin layer of snow that coated the fields, grinding the pure white into a brown and grey slush. Aziraphale turned to follow that up the hill and into the orchards.
A shift in the wind brought the sound of shouting, but laced with laughter. He crept closer, moving from one tree to the next.
The crowd seemed to include every man, woman and child from the village, gathered around the largest, oldest tree in the orchard. They were shouting, jeering – a few banging pots and pans or other noisemakers. Children threw wads of snow up among the branches and there, moving from one limb to another, taunting them, catching the snowballs and throwing them back down, was Crowley.
Crowley, glasses off, golden eyes shining for all to see, garland of winter greens hanging around his neck.
“Ha! Is that the best you can do? I’m not even trying!” Another snowball sailed past his head, and he slid across the fork of the tree as easily as if he were on the ground. “I’m going to have this whole field blighted by morning, and then where are you going to be?”
The crowd booed this, but much in the way one boos the villain of a pantomime. Crowley waved his arms, encouraging it.
Then, the crowd shifted to cheers as a young lady with a wreath lain across her hair began to climb the tree. Crowley gave one of his overdramatic cries and backed further away up one of the branches.
“Evil spirit! You are not welcome in this village!”
Crowley gave a look of exaggerated shock. “Get him, Liz!” called one of the children in the crowd.
“And what, exactly, do you plan to do about it?” Crowley hooked his hands across a branch and dangled bonelessly, grinning at the young lady.
“I call upon the soul of this tree to reject you and your curse! I – oh,” she leaned down and someone handed up a large bowl, which she gripped in both hands. “I shall waken this tree, and all the trees in the orchard, and your evil will not stand!”
She pulled a piece of bread soaked in something brown and dripping and pressed it to a sharp twig so that it dangled. The people gathered below cheered again and began to sing.
Huzza, Huzza, in our good town The bread shall be white, and the liquor be brown So here my old fellow I drink to thee And the very health of each other tree. Well may ye blow, well may ye bear Blossom and fruit both apple and pear. So that every bough and every twig May bend with a burden both fair and big May ye bear us and yield us fruit such a stors That the bags and chambers and house run o’er.
All the while, the young lady moved across the tree, spearing more bits of bread on twigs. Crowley darted around, making a show of alternately hiding from and trying to scare her. But every time she nearly lost her footing on the slippery bark, his hand would reach out and steady her, just for a moment.
When the song ended, she announced, “The blessing has been made!” and climbed quickly down to the ground, where several young men were pouring more liquid at the base of the tree.
“Attack!” someone shouted.
Suddenly the air was filled with sound – everyone screamed, or banged their noisemakers, and the children threw a concentrated volley of snow at Crowley. When one struck his chest, he flung his arms out dramatically and fell from the tree.
Everyone cheered, several small children crowding close around the fallen demon.
“Alright, ALRIGHT! You got me!” The crowd parted, and Aziraphale could see Crowley sitting up, grinning like mad, snow thick in his hair. A five-year-old child appeared to be trying to put him in a chokehold, but was unable to move much in thick jacket and scarf. “Fair cop. This orchard is officially uncursed. Congratulations.”
He jumped to his feet and pointed at the large tree.
Apple-tree, apple-tree Bear good fruit, Or down with your top And up with your root!
There was another round of applause, and Crowley made a show of bending over and taking a deep breath. “Right. Who’s next?”
“You know perfectly well,” snapped an older man – at least seventy.
“Barnabas? Aren’t you dead yet?”
The old man laughed. “That’s no way to talk to your elders! I’ll outlive you.”
“That’s what your grandfather used to say, too. Fine then, you try and catch me, or you’ll have the biggest worms in your apples in all Somerset.” And Crowley turned and ran – straight towards Aziraphale.
He tried to get out of the way, but there was no place to hide. And Crowley spotted him almost immediately, stumbling to a halt under the tree. “Angel. What are you doing here?” The smile, the humor, the glint in his eyes – all gone now. He scowled.
“What am I…what are you doing?”
Crowley shrugged, looking down at his foot as he dragged his heel through the snow. “Wassailing.”
“That…” Aziraphale waved his arms, trying to indicate the drama, the apple trees, the strange songs that had nothing to do with the winter season. “That is not wassailing!”
“What? Course it is. I’ve been doing it for over five hundred years.”
“Five hundred years?” It was too much to take. “You’ve been doing this for five centuries? Why did you never say anything?”
Crowley shrugged. “Wasn’t sure you’d approve. And you didn’t.”
For a moment, the angel’s mouth just hung open. “My dear fellow, I assure you, this is not what I pictured when you said you enjoyed wassailing.”
“Oh.” He looked up, cocking his head, expression carefully blank.
“Hey! You gotta run!” came a shout from one of the children. “We can’t chase you if you don’t run!”
“Listen, I kind of have a whole…thing here. Can we talk later?”
“I suppose we must.” Aziraphale’s mind was in a whirl.
“Great. Uh. Back in the village, wait by the church. I’ll see you after.” Without waiting for a reply, he spun and ran off through the trees. The crowd followed behind, singing another song.
Here we come a wassailing Among the leaves so green, Here we come a wandering So fair to be seen. Love and joy come to you, And to you your wassail too, And God bless you and send you a happy New Year…
--
“It started, oh, 1467 or so,” Crowley began, slumping into a seat in the little reception hall next to the church. The whole village had gathered inside, talking, laughing, sharing mugs of mulled spiced cider served from a large bowl by the door. This, Aziraphale had been told, was the wassail. He’d remembered something like it from centuries ago, but this recipe was entirely different.
It had been so strange to see the crowd returning from the orchards, singing, Crowley swaggering in the middle as if he belonged. Every once in a while, someone would come by and speak to the demon, either congratulating him or making some vague threat about next year. He took it all in stride, even when a few slapped him on the shoulders.
It was incredible. Aziraphale had never seen him so relaxed. Smiling, meeting people’s eyes, letting them touch him without flinching away.
“What happened in 1467?”
Crowley took a swig of his drink. “I was sent out here to blight the farms, as you might expect. Stupid assignment. No Temptation involved. What do they even think I am?”
“Absolute waste of your talents.”
“Yes! See? Exactly. But I snuck out there and did my job. Or tried to.” He chuckled, looking around the room with something approaching fondness. “Bunch of idiot humans caught me at it, tried this ancient ritual to raise the trees against me.”
“And it worked?”
“No! Throwing bread at trees and shouting? Of course it didn’t work!” Crowley took another drink, but he couldn’t hide the way his face lit up at the memory. “But they spent the whole night chasing me around the orchards and I couldn’t do my work. So I agreed to leave them in peace.”
Aziraphale leaned against his hand, studying Crowley’s face. He knew that expression. It was the same one that lit up his own face whenever he thought of learning the gavotte with his friends at the club, a hundred years ago. “You had fun. You enjoyed it.”
“Well. I.” Crowley suddenly fumbled for his glasses, but paused with them halfway to his eyes. “I suppose…yes, I did.” He folded them back up, placed them on the table. “They weren’t afraid of me. Do you know how often I meet humans who aren’t afraid of me?”
“So you came back. Every year.”
Crowley sighed, turning to take in the people surrounding him. “Eighteen generations. I know we’re not supposed to get attached. And it’s been hard sometimes. But…one day a year…I don’t know. I need another drink.” He stood up and walked away before Aziraphale could stop him.
As he waited for Crowley to return, Aziraphale realized people were staring at him. No, glaring. He tried for a friendly smile, but that only made them scowl worse.
Suddenly, the young lady with the wreath in her hair sat beside him. “Are you here to cause trouble?” she demanded without preamble.
“I – no, I’ve never intentionally caused trouble in my life.” She seemed to believe him about as much as Crowley would have. “Let me see, was your name Liz?”
“I’m the wassail queen,” she said, as if that gave her authority over all supernatural entities. “I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s nervous. He’s unhappy. You make him unhappy.”
Aziraphale gasped, his heart clenching in his chest. “No, I…I don’t think I do.”
“Then why is he like this?” She glanced over at where Crowley stood in the corner, holding his mug of wassail, not looking at anyone. It was very much how he usually looked in crowds.
When Aziraphale didn’t respond, she looked him up and down. “You’re like him, but not. Did you threaten him? Are you going to try and take him away?”
“Goodness, no! I would never!” He tried to think how much it would be safe to tell these people, who seemed so familiar with Crowley. “I…I am in this world as a force for good, and –”
She waved her hand. “I know. That’s why I’m talking to you. We all know exactly what he is. But he’s our evil spirit. So you leave him alone or you’ll find out exactly what we’re capable of.”
Aziraphale raised his hands in alarm. “I think you have entirely the wrong idea.” He lowered his arms, rubbing his palms together. “Crowley and I…we’ve known each other a long time. A very long time. I would not…That is…I don’t wish any harm on him, either. I suppose he’s my evil spirit, too. I just never knew about any of this.” He looked again at Crowley, and found he couldn’t look away.
Liz watched for a moment, eyes darting between the angel and the demon. Suddenly she grinned. “I think I did have the wrong idea. My mistake. I was pretty nervous when I brought my girlfriend home to meet the family, too.”
“I – what?” Aziraphale turned to her in alarm. “I have no idea what you…we’re not…”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do and you are. For crying out loud, it’s the twenty-first century. No one cares about that anymore.” She stood up. “Tell him if he wants to bring you next year, we’ll find a role for you. I hope you’re good at falling out of trees.”
After a great many steadying breaths, Aziraphale picked up his mug and walked over to join Crowley.
“For five centuries, you never said anything. Until this year. You wanted me to know. You were trying to find a way to tell me and I…overreacted.”
Crowley shrugged. “I guess I knew what you thought I meant. But… I didn’t want you to disapprove of this. I shouldn’t care but –”
“My dear, of course you should care. This village is important to you. You didn’t want me to belittle it.”
“I know I always insult things you like.” His eyes were locked onto his mug.
“You do.” Aziraphale tried to meet his gaze. “But I know you don’t mean it…all of the time. And it’s so rare for you to find something meaningful.” He stepped a little closer. “I’m glad you found this place. I only wish you’d brought me here before. I would very much like to meet them.”
“You…you like them?”
“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale glanced around the room. “I don’t know what it is, but this place, these people, suit you very well.”
The smile that had been missing from Crowley’s face started to return.
Aziraphale raised his mug. “Waes hael.”
Crowley raised his in return. “Drinc hael.”
--
(Translations and notes: After “O Tannenbaum,” Crowley shouts “You think you’re clever. Sing something we can all understand.” After “Gabriel’s Message,” he says “This is cultural appropriation” in Basque, the carol’s original language. Both are translated via Google Translate so I don’t know how accurate they are.
The last bit of dialogue translates to “Be in health” (Middle English) and “Drink and be healthy” (Anglo-Saxon). I’ve committed a rather egregious violation of linguistics here just to avoid typing a thorn. Mea culpa. These phrases are actually a greeting and response, not a toast – Wassail didn’t become a Yuletide toast until much, much later. Really my crimes just continue to accumulate.
I tried to include all the meanings of wassail: a rowdier version of caroling, an apple orchard ritual performed shortly after New Years, an alcoholic drink made with apples, a toast, and a greeting. Who knew it was so versatile?
Finally, I’ve never actually seen an orchard (or apple) wassail, but I had a lot of fun researching them. This one is meant to be more of a game between Crowley and the village, so I played pretty fast and loose with the traditions.
You should definitely call this an AU, one in which Crowley has a home and people he cares about long before the Apocalypse arrived. I wonder how that will affect things in the next few decades…)
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monochromemedic · 6 years
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Gamer Girl
I signed into Overwatch, opened up my discord and waited for the other two to come online. Bing was on quickly, his voice loud and clear as I could hear him set up and join up with me. “Hey what’s up?” Bing said, his voice bubbly and pleased as he seemingly began to click away at his keyboard. “Nothing, waiting for you to get on you know? I wanna actually go back into ranked sometime soon.”  Bing chuckled on the other end “Don’t worry, i’m a great DPS. I know it’s hard trying to go into ranked when it’s just you. But I think the three of us could get some stuff done you know bro?” “Right, right. At least it’ll be easier to talk to you and Chase instead of random strangers. I feel like i’ll be way more relaxed” As I finished that sentence I heard another person hop on the voice channel, along with a couple of rustles and to pop of a drink. “H-hey guys. Sorry Stacy came on the phone and talked to me longer then I would like” “It’s alright brah, you need some warm up rounds?” Bing asked as we all went into quickplay and quickly got some practice. We got along easily, Chase being he tank, Bing the damage dealer, and me being the healer. We racked up kills and constantly had the enemy team on edge. And in all honesty I was having more fun in game then I had before. Chatting to my two friends and bullshitting around and telling stories in between  assaults on the enemy. Bing occasionally talked about some cool tricks he learned on his skateboard or some random computer talk, something that Chase who was also a pc enthusiast seemed to understand.  Chase went on about his kids but would occasionally go into skateboarding talk or gaming talk. I knew I was a quiet person at heart but there was times where I didn’t speak at long periods of time, only giving out small call outs before the boys went back to chatting. I tried to ignore the thoughts that I was becoming a third wheel, instead focusing at becoming better and more efficient at the game. When we went into ranked match with a few other guys, I locked in my healer as the others locked in theirs respectively. Voices of the other people in the chat came in, a couple of guys asking how we were all doing and discussing any plans that we had. With that I became quieter, my voice didn’t seem to matter at the moment as I was the one that followed.  As we stormed the first point I tried my best to heal my team, trying to keep them alive. But the ones that weren’t Bing or Chase seemed to charge ahead, almost seeming to want to rack up kills instead of focusing on the point and ending up dying in the process. “Ah... fuck where was our healer?!” One of the guys grumbled, “ And why the hell are they so quiet?” “Sorry man she’s a little quiet. I mean you were the one that was going out and shoving your gun in their faces and get surrounded” Bing chuckled as he stood close to me, being able to heal him fairly easily. “Ohhh a girl... I get it. She your girlfriend or something just pocket healing you? God I knew it, it’s always one of those healers...” He rambled as I felt my face flush in embarrassment and shame. “Haha... nah man she’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a friend.” Bing huffed before Chase chimed in “You shouldn’t have gone out from my shield man, You don’t have to chase after every little straggler.” I could almost hear the guy huff over the microphone as angrily began to tap away on his keyboard, back to the point. “Oh so is she your girlfriend? Either one of you need to tell her to stop being glued to your dick and some share the heals ok?” The guy grumbled.  I bit the inside of my cheek and tried my best to go out and heal the guy, but the moment I tried to move away and heal another person he’d spam the healing button. I finally got the nerve to speak up on the mic after the 10th time he spammed the line. “I can’t reach you over there, your to far in can you come back-” “OOH so now she talks. Where were you the first 5 minutes of the match? Just letting these guys do all the hard work and carry you? Just get your ass over here I have my ultimate I can take them all down.” “I... I’m not sure, I think it’d be safer if we’d wait for another Ult to get ready-”  I began before being interupted “Just get off your boyfriends dick for once second and trust me jesus christ!” I felt my cheeks redden more as I moved over to the man and tried my best to heal him as he tried to take on 4 people on the enemy team alone.  Unsurprisingly he only managed to take 2 people out before getting himself killed leaving me on low health right by the enemies. I tried to run back to Chase, who had set up a shield nearby only to get headshot, leaving the rest of my team without a healer. I could hear Chase gave a small grunt over the mic as the guy and I both respawned around the same time, just as the rest of the team died and the opposite team took the point. “Ok let’s regroup and go back out” I told everyone. “Can I just say I have no idea why the hell your playing Lucio.” The guy on the mic said “If you would go Mercy we’d get more heals and you could actually rez people when you fuck up on your job. Instead your just skating around like some dumbass bitch.” “Hey dude leave her alone ok, she’s doing fine, your the one that’s fucking up.” Chase snarled over the mic  “Yeah let’s just stay cool, no need to get tilted, it just messes the group up.” Bing added as we began to move to the point. Normally when people were rude to me in game i’d be fine but having it done in front of my friends made it seem almost worse. At least when I was alone I could laugh or ignore it and no one would have to know but with Bing and Chase here  it was hell. Bing was quiet for a while as Chase did his best to give out calls, saying who on the enemy team was low, and when we should push in.  It was only when I died did Bing speak up again. “Damn, sorry about that babe i’ll try to protect you next time.” I jumped at the sudden nickname, which seemed to catch Chase by surprise just as much as he made a small questioning sound before turning his attention back towards an incoming ultimate. “Ah ha I knew it. Healer girlfriend just riding the dudes dick, this always happens. Head’s up dude you need a better girlfriend this one sucks.” The man commented, laughing over the mic as Bing retorted. “At least I have one dude, you sound like one of those lonely gamer guys that just gets pissy when girls are in game cause he knows he can’t get them” Another person on the team that hadn’t spoke up couldn’t help but give a chuckle over the mic as the man stayed quiet for a moment before beginning to yell into the mic. “Yeah cause all of the girls on this game are either fucking skanks or fat ugly bitches. Why the hell would I even bother man go kill yourself.” Bing chuckled as Chase seemed get into whatever the hell Bing was planning “Wow go kill yourself man? Nice comeback, the more generic the better you know? Try to mess with our girl again and your just gonna end up with mud on your face.” I was entirely quiet for the rest of the match as Chase and Bing kept insisting that I was their girlfriends and how great I was to share a girl like me with another guy and how sad and pathetic this guy was. At the end of the match the man didn’t up speaking, he was quiet, simmering silently after one too many blows to his ego.  In the end we won the match and exited back out to the title screen to wait for another match. “W...what the hell was all of that guys?” I asked as Chase and Bing burst into laughter over how salty the other guy must have been. “Ah sorry bout that Jenna it’s just... tired of that guy ragging on you and if he wanted to believe that we were a couple then I thought that I’d give him what he wants and show him how sad he was to just complain about shit like this over a game. What a loser.... uh sorry if that made you uncomfortable I just wanted to fuck with him.” Bing said, his laughter softening as he explained his reasoning. “That’s what I thought too, I just thought about how much this guy must just be angry and if hearing that your my girlfriend pissed him off more then It was way worth it... besides he was treating you like shit you did great that match.” I couldn’t help my cheeks from burning bright red. Being uncomfortable? In a way yes but in another way my heart was pounding hard in my chest with how they spoke about me. All the nice things they said, how they were ‘lucky’ to share me. To spend a moment of their time with me. “No I...i’m not uncomfortable just... flattered. Or shocked is all. That stuff you said was... way too nice.” I muttered into the mic “Nah, your really chill Jenna. I mean you want to hang out with us and that’s more then any of the other dudes do, so you must have the patience from the gods” Bing laughed as another match started up “Ooh, shit nother match. Hey Jenna if shit starts up again we can do that again ok? No blame on you, just shitting on the assholes ok?” “I... I mean if you really want to go ahead and claim i’m your girlfriend then... go ahead. and I guess it was pretty funny” I softly laughed into the mic, trying to hide the nervous crack in my voice as another round started up. As everyone connected to the voice chat we noticed a familiar face among the ranks. The mic guy.  “Well shit, here we go again”
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rocket-sith · 7 years
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"Doesn't mean I tagged it" LMFAO Yeah, and the fact I blocked them two days ago for posting their hate in our Obikin tag specifically and saying they are posting it in the tag purposely was all in my imagination? Pfft, right.  I even have a screenshot of that one to prove it because some friends and I were rolling our eyes at this Anti's pathetic attempt at bashing our ship in our ship tag. Now that I know they have gone further with death wishes, even gladder I blocked.
@obi-kenobi-wan on this post of flame and doom
They definitely spammed it into the tag on purpose, and it was about as subtle as General Grievous on stage at a rave spinning all four lightsabers to a techno remix of the Imperial March. I reblogged the hate and wrote a bunch of snarky shit like “okay, SURE, we can totally go die, but then we’re gonna come back as Force Ghosts and haunt your salty ass with dramatic readings of Obikin fanfic” and whatnot, and like two seconds later, I got inbox hate from them cursing me out while trying to play innocent. Which was hilarious in its own right, like, OH SORRY, let me guess, you were just minding your own damn business, frolicking through a daisy field on your way to go volunteer at the shelter for homeless puppies, when a BIG SCARY OBIKIN SHIPPER leaped out of the underbrush, yelled ooga booga, and your poor li’l self tripped, fell on your phone keyboard, and some suicide bait just magically came out. Right?
Friggen amateur trolls. Back in MY day when we wanted to start shipper fights, we had to make a livejournal account, join a fandom community, and come up with an actual coherent argument! These whippersnapper trolls today with their inbox hate and their newfangled tag hijacking...bah! *angrily shakes fandom cane* Get offa my lawn! 
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karlsjackbox · 3 years
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anything | p!irl!sbi x brazilian!gn!reader
May i ask for a brazilian reader with sbi ? Platonic, like, I'm brazilian and stuff isn't looking too good here, and i needed a pick me up if that's okay! If you feel like that's too heavy, maybe a brazilian reader who's insecure about their accent? Also may i be the ✨ anon? I was the one who complimented your pronouns before jdnwndnw
ofc u can be the ✨ anon :DD ty for the pronoun complement again >.< i tried my hardest with this but sorry if i mess anything up D: i made it irl! where ur a little older than tommy , age not rlly specified , and u met sbi thru tommy !! <3 also can i ask ur prns ? i dont want to misgender u <3
also this is fucking awful im sorry i needed 2 post >.<
> summary: reader is feeling insecure about their accent, sbi picks up quickly and tries to help them!
> type: hurt/comfort
> warnings: swears i think ? self doubt
> irl!
> word count: 531
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sitting at their desk, y/n pulled their knees to their chest with a sigh. they rested their forehead against the top of their knees, angrily chewing on their lip to pull their thoughts away from the day. discord notifications rang through their headphones, which were discarded on top of the desk the night before. the noise was enough to make y/n slam their hands onto the desk, opening discord to see tommy spamming one of the many group chats.
tommy: y/n
tommy: y/n
tommy: y/n
tommy: y/n
y/n: dude what the fuck do u want.
tommy: rela x dude!!!
tommy: join vc plz
tommy: plz
Ph1lza: Tommy leave them alone
tommy: no
sigh puffing from y/n's chest, they pulled the headphones over their ears. opening the vc and taking a deep breath in, y/n joined at was met with tommy and wilbur bickering.
"tommy shut up. tommy shut up. tommy shut up." wilbur repeated, voice loud and barely powering over tommy.
"i'm just saying that we are like brothers and you are a liar!" tommy yelled back, quickly getting reprimanded by his mother. "hullloooo." techno finally greeted y/n, breaking the argument.
"Y/N!!" tommy and wilbur yelled at the same time, causing another mini-fight about them being like brothers.
"hi mate," phil chuckled, water bottle clicking. "anyway. how are you y/n?" he prodded carefully, keyboard clicking through y/n's headphones. y/n let out a shaky sigh, trying to fight off the days heaviness on their shoulders.
"nothing, just some school stuff that sucked." y/n lied easily, rubbing their temples. "y/nnnnnn, will you play some minecraft with me?" tommy questioned, starting to type as well.
"i don't know tommy, i have a lot of work and --"
"PLEASEEEEEE!" he begged loudly, mic glitching. wincing, y/n rolled their eyes and sighed.
"alright. get onto hypixel."
soon, tommy, y/n, techo and wilbur were all on hypixel. phil narrated in the background as tommy screen shared, the group laughing as tommy and wilbur continuously fell on every game they played.
"y/n? can i steal you for a sec?" wilbur asked, pulling y/n into a different vc. "what's up wil?" y/n asked, fingers wrapping around their water bottle to soothe their vocal chords.
"are you.. okay? we all noticed you were kinda quiet at the beginning of the call and we wanted to make sure you were okay." wilbur asked, carefully dodging words. y/n froze, eyebrows furrowing.
"yeah, i guess." y/n spoke up after a moment. "just.. is my accent like, annoying? be completely honest, please. i trust you."
wilbur let out a scoff, shuffling in his office chair. "y/n, your accent is far from annoying. trust me. i happen to rather like your accent, much preferred over mine or maybe even tommy's. its on a nice level like philza minecrafts, definitely better than that bloke technoblade." he teased, y/n letting out a small grin.
"i think your accent is lovely, y/n. why don't we get back to the call, yeah?" wilbur asked, y/n humming in agreement.
"of course. thank you, wilbur."
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