#and then you dumbfucks go and copy it thinking you will get away

[kynrki]

since theres so much plagiarism going around nowadays, i only have one thing to say:

you cant OUT DO, the DO ER.

finish. done. klaar. punt.

#important!! #serious talk with kimmy🕺🏽 #literally #like what the fuck you thinking dawg #you could NEVA #EVA #beat the person who did it first #and if you’re gonna copy someone’s layout #or blog design #either first ask if its fine or give credits #people literally take the time out from their day to do something #and then you dumbfucks go and copy it thinking you will get away #bffr. #use your common sense atleast #and if you like what someone did and wanna do it too then send an ask or give credits or something #so that the AUTHOR atleast knows #its so fucking frustrating esp if you took time to write something #and then someone copys it and says it theirs #GIRL WHO DO YOU THINK YOU FUCKING ARE🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 #bffr🤭 #enough ranting #lemme sleep

[scoliosiswizard]

A man stands in a run down comedy club, telling other people's jokes, and, rarely, his own. Looking out on the crowd, he sees it empty, save for the bartender, a video camera, and an old friend who is passed out in a booth, unaware he's still here.

Over the course of his set of indeterminate length, beautiful women begin to trickle in, strangely silently. They fill the seats, in front of the camera, at the bar, even filling out the booth of the unconscious acquaintance. The bartender seems quite happy, though the comedian can't tell why. No drinks are being bought, no money has been paid at the door, yet the bartender speaks to them as if they were responding, elated for the "business".

Hoping someone had come to hear him and curious to figure out their mysterious silence, the comedian takes a break and wanders into the crowd. He approaches one of the women, but she remains stone still until he's just about three feet away. Before he can get a word out-

"CALIFORNIA. GRAPHIC DESIGNER. 26."

"Excuse me?"

"YOU SHOULD GO TO THE STRIP CLUB ON SHADY LANE, RIGHT NEXT TO MURDER PARK."

The comedian notices her lips aren't moving. She remains frozen in place as the sound flows through her. The sound definitely comes from the same space as she does, but not from any human lungs. Or as a result of any human thought. Speaking of lungs, she doesn't appear to be breathing. Oh God. Are they anglerfish of some sort?

Stumbling towards the bar in fear, the comedian pulls the bartender aside.

"Hey uh..."

"What's up?"

"What the fuck is wrong with these people"

"What, they too hot? Annoying you? Something else?"

"They're not annoying me, they're creeping me the fuck out! I don't think they're human!"

"They're not?!" Yells the bartender, slamming down the unused shotglass they've been cleaning for the past hour

"What- of course they're not, have you seen them? They haven't moved or done anything for the past hou-"

"Guess we'll file this one under annoying again, thanks for the tip. Which ones aren't human?"

"How can you not tell! Uh,... hold on"

The comedian points at the unconscious body of his ex-friend

"See him? Clearly real."

"He's been still for longer than they have, at least I remember them walking in, are you sure he's still alive?"

"Ok bad example. Look at me. I'm telling jokes. I'm copying other people but only mostly. I'm doing something."

"Ahh, I get it. So it's just you me and the camera in here huh? Only real humans around?"

"No you dumbfuck it's you me and.. uh.. larry I think. He might be dead but I guarantee that's a genuine human corpse."

"Ok you're gonna need to point out who's fake then, I'm lost"

Incredulously, the comedian slowly walks around the room pointing at the fake women one by one.

"Fake"

"Noted"

"So get them the fuck out of here"

"Ah, sorry, thought you might like that one"

The woman disappears into thin air

"Wha-... not gonna question it. That one's fake too"

"Noted"

"Are you fucking serious? Kick them out"

"Ah, sorry, thought you might like that one"

"Jesus christ this is gonna take forever"

After roughly 15 minutes, all the women are gone. The comedian contemplates doing something about larry but decides against it for now. Moments later, another woman walks in, looking nearly identical to one of those who had just been removed. The comedian looks expectantly at the bartender but nothing happens. Pointing out the fake person, he returns to the stage to continue telling other people's jokes.

#oc #writing #I do not know why pruning my followers list back down to it's usual 3 has inspired me to write fiction for the first time but hey #just changed to double major in english like last month #i guess becoming an english major changes something about you at the fundamental level

[satire-please]

Take a Sad Song and Make it Better - Part 5

Day 5 - Nightmares = The hurt/comfort drive is real.

It’s a bad night for Jason, good thing he’s not alone

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

There’s dirt under his fingernails again.

His breathing shudders. A rattling thing too quick, his fingers shaking because it’s almost like he’s back there.

In his own grave.

With the pressed suit tailored too tight on him, strangling him. Where the wet, moldy smell of earth fills his nostrils and he screams.

And screams.

But no one comes.

Who’d come for a dead man anyway?

Jay kicks off his sheets and sweeps an arm over the nightstand, knocking every item to the floor. His water glass breaks and that’s good.

The destruction, the mess is better, better than–

Jay slaps the sides of his cheeks with his hands. Stay here you dumbfuck, you’re not there.

Yet his senses play tricks on him. The memories so heavy that phantom sensations wave in front of his eyes. He couldn’t move then, only squirm as he scratched the coffin cover. His hands bloody, half his nails gone because Bruce hadn’t scrimped. Had gotten the good stuff, the good mahogany. Jay reaches to squeeze his knees because they hurt, sting as like they did when finally, finally he found a weakness in that fucking box and rammed his legs through it. And that taste. That goddamn taste of decay and dirt every time he gasped and tore at the turf.

He doesn’t know how long it took to crawl to the surface.

But it took too long.

A choked laugh escapes him. If he looks in the mirror, will his eyes glow with Lazarus green? Jay sits up on the bed. Peers at the window, expecting to see his reflection with two pinpricks of eerie light, like a damn broken glowstick.

But it’s not the pit riding him tonight, his face in the glass remaining an obscure blur. For a half-second, he wishes it was. Madness doesn’t let fear bleed through. Just anger, and the victorious high of a smile when your gun finds the target.

When you find someone new to pay.

To blame.

Like Replace–Tim. His name is fucking Tim. It’s not his fault. Remember it’s not his fault.

And he can’t blame the pit, can’t blame Talia, can’t blame Ra’s that a creature walks among the Bats. He doesn’t know who his Frankenstein is, but when he finds them he’s got a bullet with their name all over it. ‘Cause dontcha know it’s better to let sleeping corpses lie?

Jay can’t stay here another heartbeat. Not in his old room a lifetime ago. He gets up and crosses the room to silently pull open the door. Fuck this. He ain’t sleeping no more, he’s getting a cig. So he goes to the only room he can. Fine, he could smoke anywhere but then Alfie narrows his eyes at him when he pulls a cig from his back pocket and he’s been too well trained for that, sue him.

In the hall, Jay doesn’t bother turning on the lights, what’s the point? He’s been there enough times, too many times on bad nights like this. Funny. Has that number has gotten lower? He pads through the dark, minding the floorboards that creak.

The smoke lounge is a piece of ostentatious bullshit. Reeks more of money than smoke and Jay has smeared his cigs out on the furniture, deliberately snubbing the artistic ashtray. Just ‘cause his heart pumps out more spite than blood. There’s leather armchairs in front of a cold fireplace, a pool table and three honest to god deer heads mounted on the wall. Damian ain’t allowed in this room. He’d tear it apart.

The thought makes his grimace relax a tad.  

He sinks into a chair and swings his legs over one of its arms. It’s the only way to be comfortable in the damn thing. He fumbles for the lighter in a drawer next to it and the spark illuminates his face. It also illuminates that he’s not alone.

“Do ya always have to be the dramatic fuck?”

“You should be in bed.”

“So should you. Betcha won’t tattle my ass to Alfie though.”

Bruce just stares at his son. “Why are you up, Jason?”

Jay just hums. “Yer the detective, not me. Why’s anyone up before the crack of dawn?” The room has that blush of blue. It’s an hour, maybe a little more, before dawn. Outside, a nightbird chirps its last song.

“I think I can make a guess.” Bruce says carefully, his face blank, “Can I sit here with you?”

“It’s yer house, dumbass. Can’t tell ya off even if I wanted to, minster head of the house.” But he gestures graciously to the other armchair.

“Thanks, son.”

Jay bites through his lip. Warring emotions of raw rage, want and need flooding his body as Bruce takes his seat. It’s minutes of them in the bleak light, smoke rising in curls before Jay can’t take it anymore.

“I get it now, you know.” Bruce hums under his breath, it’s a welcome mat of a noise. So Jay with his stupid remaining brain cells opens his stupid mouth to continue. “Why ya replaced me.”

The man in the chair goes still.

A sharp inhale. Exhale.

“Tim’s a good kid. Smart kid. Smarter than I was for sure. He’s everything I’m not and then some. I can see why ya made him Robin, I mean I wanted to nab him for my Robin when we fought over your cowl like dogs on a bone.”  

“Jason.” Bruce tries to cut in.

Jay won’t let him, “And he’s like you. Like a carbon copy mini-me. Thought ya ordered him from a Richie-rich catalog. Thinks like you, talks like you, obsesses over the mission like you–”

“Jason. I didn’t replace you.” Bruce pauses. “After you...died, I didn’t work with anyone. Couldn’t be around anyone. Your brother Dick stayed in Haven because he couldn’t stand me. Alfred almost...quit.”

Jay flicks the ash, wishes the shakes would quit it. Huh, that’s new for him. Alfie? The ever loyal, infallible, only stable fixture of the manor, Alfred Pennyworth calling it quits?

“You’re Jason Todd Wayne. No one could be you. The only reason Tim became Robin is because he, though I’m sure Alfred had some kind of hand in it, blackmailed me.”

“Wait what?”

“Tim legitimately knocked on my door one day to tell me I better take a Robin or else. Mind you, at the time he wasn’t referring to himself, but imagine the random neighborhood kid. Just stopping by to let you know he found out you dress like a bat at night, and lighten up mister. Get a partner before you kill someone.”

A snort escapes Jason before he can stop it. “Awkward.”

“And then he wouldn’t leave. Couldn’t stop poking his nose where it didn’t belong. I’d find bits and pieces of newspapers, of clues for my current case, tied on my doorstep with string. Then he showed up at the most rotten, most opportune time to save Dick and me from Two-Face.”

“Sounds like a little shit.”

Bruce’s lips crack a bit into a smirk. “I’m not going to repeat that. I hate to admit it, but at first, I wanted...to run him off. I wanted him to give up. I set ridiculous expectations, refused to let him take one step on a skyscraper until Alfred, until I, until Dick trained him.”    

“That doesn’t sound like his M.O. He don’t give up easy.”

“No. Tim doesn’t.” They zone out for a bit, staring at Jay’s dying cig, the last coils of smoke fading into thin air. “He stuck it out. Stubbornly dug his heels until I stopped pushing. He wasn’t you though and...I wanted you back.”

Jay rubs his face, something’s wrong with his eyes.  

“That’s not fair.” Bruce gives a rueful laugh. “I need to be better at that. You’re different people, important people, and I didn’t do right by either of you. I tried to clip your wings so you couldn’t fly away like Dick, and with Tim...I may have let him into the nest, but I didn’t let him stay in it until his father died.”  

His eyes are really messing with him so Jay abandons them to start picking under his nails to get the dirt outta them. It’s just dirt. He’ll be okay, it’s just dirt.

“I’m sorry, Jason.” Bruce looks at him then, sincerely, and something catches in Jay’s throat and sticks.

Fuck.

He doesn’t say I forgive you. That it’s fine. That they’ll get better because he doesn’t know and he can’t.

But he can’t stop his lips from moving, “Old dogs can’t learn new tricks...but maybe a shitty bat can.”

It’ll have to be enough.

In the paling dawn, Jay watches Bruce out of the corner of his eye. The Bat’s expression mild in hope and promise.

It’ll be enough.

#my writing #batfamily #BatfamBigBang #Batfam Big Bang #day 5 nightmares #Jason todd #Bruce wayne #hurt/comfort #mild gore with hands? #Hand injury?

[master-sass-blast]

“Myshka.”

Oh. Would you look at that. It’s 10k words long.

*sighs* On one hand, I have mild regrets.

On the other hand... I REGRET NOTHING.

Welcome back to my hyperfixation with Piotr Rasputin. This installment shows some of the highlights of you, our lovely reader, becoming “myshka” (little mouse) to Colossus.

Side note: I definitely took inspiration from @colossus-and-cable ‘s https://colossus-and-cable.tumblr.com/post/176047533623/soft-skin and https://colossus-and-cable.tumblr.com/post/176314375850/dinner-date! Obviously, I didn’t copy either piece (I ain’t no plagiarizer) but if you’re in the mood for more Colossus x Reader fluff, go check out those two pieces (and colossus-and-cable’s blog in general. They’re amazing, their writing is amazing, and they are my main supplier for my thirst addiction).

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, strong language, and enough fluff to rot teeth.

Pairing: Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

The first time it happens, as with all great love stories, you wipe out on your ass.

Hard.

For clarification: Colossus calling you “myshka” didn’t make you wipe out on your ass; rather, you wiped out particularly hard during a mission and he called you “myshka” after he’d found you post-wipe out.

Technically, not the same, but the former way of phrasing the situation sounds much funnier than the latter, in your opinion.

The scene is set: the X-Force team is in the midst of taking down a group of mutant traffickers so they can rescue the latest group of victims.

There’s gunfire. Bullets whizzing everywhere. Lots and lots of bullets.

And, over the din of it all, Wade is cackling like a madman.

There were times where you really questioned your decision to be friends with Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. This was one of them.

You grit your teeth as Wade runs headfirst into the gunfire and use your powers to knock a row of shooters off their feet with a hard blast of wind. You’re currently pinned behind a car by way of gunfire, waiting for the others --Colossus, Yukio, Domino, Cable, Russell, and Ellie--to catch up. “Wade!” you snap, knowing full well he and the others can hear you via the earpieces issued by the X-Men. “I swear to Cthulhu, if I die from your dumbass choices, I will personally come back just to kill you.”

“What’s going on?” Colossus’s voice floods the line, strained with effort and worry.

“The fuckstick decided to set off the shooters and charge them,” You growl as you watch Wade take down another trio of criminals. “It’s a mess over here.”

Colossus mutters something about proper language before starting to rant at Wade. “Deadpool, we talked about this. The plan was to wait for rest of team before--”

Wade cut him off with an undignified shriek. “Shit! Snipers! Fuck!”

You can hear the sound the bullets, both from where you’re sitting and through your earpiece. “Serves you right, dumbfuck. I hope they hit your ass.”

“Stop bitching at me and take those cock-gobblers out! Comprende?”

You mutter a list of death threats under your breath and rise up as much as you dare.

Wade’s dodging bullets as he darts around the abandoned parking lot in front of an equally abandoned three story warehouse. Most of the shots are coming from the third level.

You assess your odds. On one hand, Wade’s taken out all the active shooters in the parking lot. You don’t have to worry about any extra people firing extra bullets at you. Plus, snipers will make it much tougher to get into the warehouse --and to the trafficked mutants--before the shippers come in and whisk them away.

On the other hand, the team’s not that far out, you don’t relish the idea of running into direct gunfire, and --candidly--watching Wade get shot at is pretty entertaining. Ten out of ten, would watch again while eating popcorn.

Ultimately, you decide you can’t justify not doing what you can to save the trafficking victims. You grit your teeth and jog a few feet back. “I’m going to blast those dipshits.”

“Y/N, no.” Colossus’s voice. “Wait for us.”

“I can’t risk the traffickers taking away another group of mutants,” You say as you line up your shot.

There. The center window on the third level. Based on the schematics, it should line up with a long outer hall that you can use to blast the snipers out of.

“No, it is too dangerous.”

“I thought that was the point of these missions.” You steel yourself and focus in, taking a second to feel the air around you. “Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“You better hope I don’t die, dumb cunt.”

And, with that, you’re off. You use your powers to propel you halfway across the parking lot, then launch yourself off the ground and through the center window.

The brief looks that you catch on the sniper’s faces before you blast them out the opposite ends of the warehouse are priceless.

You look up, ready to land --and almost have a coronary.

A wall with a decorative window is speeding towards you, and you’re not slowing down the way you thought you would.

“Shit! I miscalculated!” You barely have enough time to make a wind shield before your plowing through the window, into something that makes a vague screaming noise, and onto the floor. You roll over broken glass and metal rebar before smacking into a wall, cracking the drywall.

Pain. Lots of it. In your back, your sides, your head, your legs. You groan and almost vomit, it’s so bad. “Fuck. I hurt myself.”

“Where are you?” Colossus asks, panic evident in his voice.

“On the third level. Follow the wake of destruction and the sounds of pissed off swearing. You won’t miss me.” You let out a gasp of pain as you try to pick a few gnarly shards of glass out of your side. “Shit, I rolled through glass. Oh, fuck, that hurts.”

“Can you move?” Cable’s voice this time, considerably calmer.

You shift yourself into a sitting position --which takes an amount of effort and stomach control you didn’t know you had--and almost lose your lunch at the sight of your leg. “Oh, definitely not. Shit, I fucked up my leg. I think my knee’s dislocated.”

“You shouldn’t have gone after snipers,” Colossus growls over the sound of men screaming.

“Would have, wouldn’t have,” You grumble back. “I cleared them out for you. You’re fucking welcome.” You take stock of your surroundings --glass, glass, more glass, crushed beer cans, glass--and gasp. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Colossus again, fretting as a mother hen must.

“Is that...” You peer closer at the dark, soft looking lump and gag. “Oh shit. That’s a body. I think I decapitated a guy when I went through the window.”

“Impressive,” Wade says. “I don’t think even I’ve managed that one.”

“You had to be clocking in pretty fast to pull that off,” Cable growls over the sound of his gun firing. “How quick were you moving?”

“I don’t know, dad, let me check my speedometer,” You grumble back. You lean back against the wall and try to breath for a minute.

It’s something no one ever thinks to tell you --being in pain is exhausting. On a good day, one might need to sleep off a particularly nasty headache. Now, however, when you’ve been running around and crashing through walls? You feel like a de-boned rag doll, like a pile of slowly melting Jello, like an over-wrung wash rag.

You let your head rest against the wall --despite the fact that you’ll probably get drywall in your hair--and slowly let your eyes close. You’re so... tired...

“Hey, kid, are you still with us?”

You force yourself to stir, fighting through the layers of pain. “Yeah. I’m here. ‘m jus’ tired.”

“Uh-huh. Why are you slurring your words? Did you hit your head?” Cable asks.

“I hit everything,” You grumble. “I thought that was clear from all my cursing.”

“Y/N, you need to stay awake,” Colossus orders over the earpiece. “Falling asleep now would be dangerous.”

“I’ve got something that’ll keep her awake. There’s a group of guys on their way up to you. They’re in the stairwell, T minus two minutes,” Cable says.

That does wake you up. Adrenaline courses through your system, pushing the pain down and forcing you into alertness. You take in shallow, gasp-y breaths as you try to put together a plan. “How much time?”

“Less than two minutes.”

You scan the room, searching for something to defend yourself with or a place to hide. Your eyes lock on to the decapitated dude’s gun and an idea starts forming in your head. “How many of them are there?”

“Five. Minute and twenty seconds.”

You lurch for the gun, barely biting back a scream of pain as your force your body to move. You yank a clip off the guy’s belt and shove it into the gun, then pull yourself under a table next to the door that --somehow--survived your impromptu trip through the wall.

You almost black out from pain as you get yourself into position, gun aimed down the hall. “How much longer?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

You count down and try to breath.

Right on cue, the door to the stairwell smacks open. Five burly men dressed in black, all carrying rifles, pour into the hallway.

You clench your teeth together and open fire.

Within seconds, they’re on the ground, as dead as the guy you decapitated.

“Y/N?”

You let out a ragged breath, wipe some blood away from your eyes --you must’ve cut yourself on your way through the window--and answer Colossus’s worried call. “Got ‘em. Stupid chickenshits. How’re we doing down there?”

“Only a few fuckers left!” Wade shouts cheerfully. “Then it’s down to finding the victims and releasing them!”

You let your forehead drop against the floor. “I’m gonna need someone to come get me. I doubt I could even fly myself out of here.”

“Stay where you are,” Colossus orders. “We will have someone up to get you in few minutes. In meantime, stay awake.”

Wade helps your effort to stay conscious by quizzing you on all manner of movie and music trivia. Most of his questions are inane at best, but it does the trick. You manage to keep your eyes open until you register a series of hurried, heavy thuds on the floor, and then--

The table you’re hiding under is tossed across the room like it was a piece of paper, and Colossus kneels next to you. “Bozhe moi. What did you do to yourself?”

“Nothing any self-respecting mutant with poor math skills and even worse impulse control wouldn’t do,” You mutter back. You roll onto your back with a yelp of pain and try to grin up at him --though you suspect it just comes out looking pained. “How do I look?”

“Like shit,” Cable answers, coming into view above you. He lets out a hiss through his teeth as his eyes scan you. “The fuck did you do to your leg?”

“Dislocated it, I think,” You manage. “I would try to set it, but I don’t know if my body’ll let me bend like that. It’s pretty pissed at me, all things considered.”

“Do you want me to try to pop it back in?” Cable asks.

“No, I don’t think that is good idea--” Colossus tries.

“Do it,” You interrupt. “I’d rather that happen than have it dangling around while I’m carried around.”

“Y/N--”

“Do it,” You snap at Cable, ignoring Colossus’s pleas for you to wait to let the medics do it. “Just give me something to bite on.”

Cable pulls a bandanna out of his fanny pack and hands it to you. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

You stuff the fabric into your mouth, bite down, and take a breath.

A second breath.

A third.

You close your eyes and nod. You let out a scream as Cable snaps your knee back into place --purely efficient and unhesitating--then rip the bandanna out of your mouth, roll up onto your side, and promptly vomit.

It hurts. Everything hurts. Your body feels like its on fire.

The pain is so intense that your arms give out and you nearly drop face first into your own puke.

Colossus’s massive hands shoot out and he catches you, pulling you up and into his arms.

The sheer amount of movement makes you scream again as pain ricochets around your body.

“I’m so sorry,” Colossus murmurs as he adjust his grip on you.

“It’s okay,” You assure him, even as your body demands sacrifice and as tears stream down your face. You can’t bear the idea of this gentle giant tearing himself up over hurting you. “It’s okay, big guy, it was going to hurt anyway. It’s okay.”

He starts carrying you down the hall, moving with extra care so as not to jostle you unnecessarily. “That’s my tough myshka,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you groan as he starts carrying you down the stairs. “Diving headfirst into trouble and hurting herself in the process.” Your head lolls against his shoulder, the toll of enduring the pain catching up to you fast.

You can vaguely hear Cable talking to someone --Ellie, you think, because he’s not nearly pissed enough for it to be Wade--and confirming they’ve found you and are on their way. You can hear the metallic clang of Colossus’s footsteps, but everything sounds like your head’s underwater --distorted, distant.

You can feel yourself fall asleep with every step that your favorite gentle giant takes. Your eyes slowly start to close--

Colossus’s voice brings you back to the surface. “Stay awake, myshka. You need to stay with us.”

You blink and stare at the way the thick muscles in his neck and shoulders work as he moves. “Myshka.” The word feels awkward and unfamiliar in your mouth, but you like it all the same. “What does that mean? Does it mean idiot? ‘cause I feel like that’s a fair accusation for you to make right now.”

He chuckles --a really pleasant sound that you hadn’t noticed how pleasant it was until this exact moment--and holds you a little closer so he can maneuver you through a doorway. “Not quite.”

You hum in response and watch the metal that comprises him ripple. “I like it. It sounds pretty.” You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, relishing the way the cool metal there soothes the ache in your head. “Colossus?”

“Da, myshka?”

“I think I hurt my everything.”

He chuckles again --a little more strained this time--and carries you to the jet. “Hang in there. We will get you fixed up soon.”

The second time it happens --not the exact second utterance of the word, but the second situation the word is uttered in--you’re hanging halfway off the couch in pursuit of one particularly evasive remote.

It’s not too long after the fuck forsaken mission where you’d tossed yourself through a window, and you’ve been confined to the couch on orders of both Hank and Colossus.

All in all, it isn’t too bad. The X-Force takes turns helping you get around and playing nurse --having Neena wash your hair for you had been a borderline orgasmic experience--and everyone’s pretty willing to keep you company --especially Wade, who’ll take any excuse he can get to introduce you to trash TV.

Right now, though, you’re on your own, and you’re trying to lift the remote off the ground via an air current and fling it to where you’re sitting.

It isn’t working. Not in the slightest.

You growl as the remote flops further away from you and you glare daggers at the traitorous device. “Stupid piece of shit.”

“Myshka.”

You look up and grin at Colossus. “Hey, big guy. ‘Sup?”

He raises an eyebrow at your precarious position, half-on, half-off the couch. “I do not think you should be laying like that. Is bad for your back, to say nothing of your knee.”

“Well, I didn’t start like this. I was trying to get the remote, but Wade left it all the way over there when he switched channels.” You grimace at the dramatics on the TV screen. “Is this really considered the pinnacle of modern entertainment?”

“For Wade, yes.” He scans the card outlining your prescription times --you’d gotten the good painkillers, plus some antibiotics after your little escapade at the warehouse. “Your next dose is due. You need to eat something.”

“Would that I could, but --alas--I am confined to this couch for the time being.”

He chuckles. “I can make you something, myshka. You only need ask.”

You smile softly at him --how could you not, when he’s being so considerate and sweet. “Thanks. I’m up for pretty much anything.”

He nods and walks to the kitchen --but not before he retrieves the remote and hands it to you.

You start flipping through the channels, trying to find something decent to watch, but realize that you don’t even know what to look for. A lifetime without TV has left you with absolutely no idea of what even qualifies as good.

“You know, you might find something easier if you watch more than five seconds at a time.”

You look up in time to see his gentle, teasing smile, and stick out your tongue in response as he sets two plates on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Very funny, big guy.”

He opens his mouth to respond, the pauses to frown --specifically at your injured leg. “I thought you were supposed to have your leg elevated.”

“I tried. I can’t get it high enough without the pillows toppling over.”

He stares down at you for a moment, frowning contemplatively, before heading back to the kitchen. “Wait there. I have idea.”

“I don’t know,” You call after him. “I was contemplating a breezy flight to Las Vegas. Play the slots, cheat at the Poker tables, try to win big.”

He chuckles --a warm, deep sound that you absolutely love--and reappears with a fresh ice pack in hand. “Cheating is against the rules, myshka.”

“Well, duh. How else am I going to win? I’m not that good at Poker.” You wriggle up on the couch so you can see him better. “So, what’s this idea of yours?”

He ducks his head, looking flustered. “Well, I need to eat as well. I thought I could sit with you, help keep pillows in place, that sort of thing. Would that be alright?”

You grin up at him. “Sounds perfect.” You wriggle up the couch a little more, making space for him, and pat the now open spot. “Come join me, big guy.”

He sits --the couch groans in protest as he settles himself on the cushions--and grimaces when he sees that the TV has defaulted back to Wade’s pick of Toddlers and Tiaras. “Is... is this what you want to watch?”

You grimace with him. “No. I just... I wasn’t allowed to watch TV growing up. I have no idea what to look for, much less what I might like.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then holds out his hand. “May I? I think I might be able to find something you will enjoy.”

You hand him the remote and start in on your plate, quickly taking your pain pills before you forget to.

He’s fixed you a sandwich --delicious, you’re sure, Colossus is a surprisingly good cook--paired with some grapes, carrots, and...

You grin as you pop a unnaturally bright, not remotely flavored like any cheese you’ve ever tasted Cheeto into your mouth. “You remembered my crunching addiction!”

He nods, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Why you and Wade like those, I will never understand.”

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em until you’ve tried ‘em.” You stare up at the screen, frowning as an intro for some sort of science-y show plays. “What’s this?”

“American show called Mythbusters. I discovered it when I first came here. This is rerun from one of the earlier seasons.”

You settle into the couch with a shrug and start into your lunch. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than the shit that Wade picked.

As it turns out, he’s absolutely right. The show is amazing, and you’re genuinely entertained by watching the two hosts blow up, break, and generally destroy anything and everything that they get their hands on

And, admittedly, you can see where he was pulled into the show as well. It’s surprisingly intellectual, and does an amazing job of making the math and science going into the tests and myths accessible to the average viewer.

About halfway through the episode you’ve finished your plate and the pain meds have kicked in nicely. You giggle from the high of the medication and roll back onto the couch.

Colossus’s hand settles gently on your uninjured leg. “Easy, myshka. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself!” You declare as you flop around. Your hand smacks into the coffee table. You wince and cradle the stinging appendage against your chest. “Ow.”

Colossus helps settle you back onto the couch in a less haphazard position. “You were saying?”

“Okay, fine. I hurt myself. Happy now?”

“I will be happier when you settle enough to stop hurting yourself, myshka.”

“Myshka.” You giggle and repeat the word a few times before the buzz of the drugs makes you dissolve into laughter. “Why do you call me that? Not that I’m complaining --it sounds pretty cute.”

“Is a nickname in Russian.”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You grin up at him. “Don’t tell me what it means; I want to guess!”

“Very well.”

You peer up at him, doing your best to sift through the fog the painkillers have put you in as you try to puzzle out what he could be calling you. “It means ‘idiot,’ doesn’t it?”

He seems alarmed. “Why would I call you that?”

“I mean, I did toss myself through a wall and dislocate my leg in the process. I think it’s kind of warranted.”

Colossus shakes his head. “I would never. That would be unkind --and unwarranted.”

“Okay.” You eye him for another minute, then try again. “Fool?”

“No.”

“Lovable fool?”

“Also no.”

“Klutz?”

“It is not an insult,” he says, both amused and exasperated.

“Ah.” You grin at him. “Well, that’s nice --but I’ll have to completely rethink my strategy now. This might take longer than I thought.”

“I could just tell you.”

“No! No spoiling my fun!”

He shakes his head, smiling, and resumes watching the show.

On impulse --one which you will later admit was prompted by your growing feelings for him, not by the pain meds--you plop the pillow propping up your knee on his lap and swing your legs up so they’re draped over his legs. You flash him your nicest, sweetest smile when he looks at you, startled. “This okay, big guy?”

He nods, somewhat flustered. “Da, myshka. This is fine.”

You settle back in and finish out the episode with him, more content than you’ve been in a long time.

The third time it happens, you’ve admitted to yourself --and Wade, after some obnoxious prodding on the merc’s part--that you’ve got a crush on the metal man himself.

Which is why you’ve been careful to ensure that you’ve got a prime spot next to Colossus when you all head out to watch the mansion’s New Year’s firework display.

He has a fire extinguisher on hand, a sight that makes you laugh. “Ready for anything, eh?”

He grimaces. “Wade set up the display this year.”

You blanch. “Oh, god, is the house even going to survive?”

“Hey, have a little faith in me,” Wade whines as he skips past you to finish the final touches on the display. “I can have self control. When I want to.”

“Yeah, the question is does he ever want to?” You mutter as you watch Wade and Russell arrange the first row of fireworks.

“Speaking from experience, no,” Colossus mutters back.

“Ladies, gentlemen, noble gentry of non-conforming gender identity, and Yukio!” Wade crows from his position several yards down the drive. “Tonight is a date that technically doesn’t matter since time is a social construct, but we’re going to use it to celebrate surviving another year! That’s right, tell Death to go fu--”

“Language, Wade,” Colossus interjects over Wade’s tirade and the giggles of the younger mutants.

“Okay, okay. Take it easy, Long John Silver. Anyway, since the resident party poopers here at Casa de la Mutant have kiboshed getting drunk off our ass--”

“Wade.”

“Okay! Fine! Long story made short: fireworks! Lots of them! Cover your ears if you don’t want to wear hearing aids by the time you’re thirty!” He spins dramatically and pointed to Russell. “Russell! My man! Let it burn!”

Russell lights the fuse lines then books it to a safe distance with Wade.

You clap your hands over your ears just as the first set shoot off into the sky.

Multiple bursts light up the sky in what is a colorful, exciting, and surprisingly tasteful display, given that Wade and Russell were the ones that set it up. It takes several minutes for the main set of fireworks to finish going off. Once they’re done, Wade and Russell scamper back in to set up the finale.

By this point, you’re shivering. The New England weather in the dead of winter is none too forgiving to those who dare to venture outside without the proper protective wear.

You were contemplating running up to your room and grabbing a sweatshirt when Colossus reaches out and gently clasps your shoulder. “Myshka? Are you alright?”

You flash him a tight, ‘I’m-dying-from-the-cold-but-don’t-want-to-let-on-because-I’m-stubborn’ grin. “Yupp. A-okay.”

He frowns. “You’re cold.”

“Are you kidding? In this weather?” You feign wiping sweat off your brow. “We’re in a heat wave right now, big guy. How could I be cold?”

He laughs, then unzips the jacket he’s wearing. “Here. Use my jacket. We can’t have you freezing.”

Before you can protest, he’s draping the massive jacket around your shoulders, and oh--

It’s warm. Super warm. Like a beach in the tropics on a perfect sunny day warm.

You nestle into the jacket, sticking your stiff, chilled arms down the sleeves. You let out a happy, soothed sigh and relax a little. “Thanks, Colossus.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but ends up being cut off by a crazed screech from Wade.

“Alright, muchachos! Let’s blow this pop stand!”

You stick your fingers in your ears and keep them there until the finale’s done.

Once the smoke clears, most of the crowd does as well. Wade and Russell run off towards the back of the house, while everyone else heads inside.

Well, almost everyone.

Colossus sighs, and --with a good-natured smile--walks down the drive to pick up the remains of Wade and Russell’s firework display.

You scamper after him, far more content to spend time with him --even if it means helping with chores--than to head inside with everyone else. “Honestly, that didn’t end as disastrously as I thought it would.”

“Da. Wade and Russell were surprisingly controlled,” he agrees between coughs from the smoke.

You stop for a minute and make an air current to carry away the smoke. “There. That’s better.”

“Thank you, myshka.”

You bend to help him, but have to stop every few seconds to retuck the sleeves of his jacket so that you can physically grab onto the destroyed firecrackers. After the fifth time they slither down your arms, you drop the partially destroyed canister you’re holding and start rolling them up your arms. “Stupid motherfucking traitorous--”

Colossus chuckles. “Here, myshka.” He hands you the bag he’s been using to contain the trash. “You hold this. I can finish the rest.”

“Why do you need a jacket anyway?” You ask as you hold out the bag for him. “Aren’t you protected from the cold?”

“I am. The jacket is not so much for my benefit as it is for others. I may not suffer from the cold, but I still get cold. Complaints arise, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

You smirk. “That, and Wade won’t try to lick your arm to see if he’ll stick if you wear the jacket.”

Colossus groans. “Please, do not tell him about that. I would rather he didn’t try.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Secret’s safe with me, big guy.”

“Piotr.”

“Gesundheit.”

He laughs --actually laughs, full-bodied and joyous--and shakes his head. “My name. It’s Piotr. I thought you should know.”

You grin --it’s a surprisingly attractive name, which you suppose is fitting--and extend your hand. “Nice to meet ya, Piotr. I’m Y/N.”

He laughs again and shakes your hand with the utmost gentleness. “Very funny, myshka.”

You’re about to suggest that the two of you head inside when a loud explosion, a towering fireball, and a scream that sounds suspiciously like Wade emanates from behind the mansion.

Colossus --Piotr--mumbles something under his breath that sounds like a curse. “We should go check on that.”

You grimace and nod. “Come on. Let’s go see what Wade’s done to himself now.”

The fourth time it happens, two things are different.

One, you’re undoubtedly head over heels for Piotr. He’s sweet, kind, an unbelievably good looking, steel and all.

Two, you almost murder someone.

To be fair, that someone was Scott and he absolutely had it coming.

Let’s set the scene again: You had pissed Scott off.

No surprise there. You’re unbelievably good at it. You’re so adept that you could list it as a skill on your resume.

This time around, it’s because you and Wade had utterly booby-trapped his room for April Fool’s day.

In fairness to you and your best friend, you hadn’t done anything lethal or extensively damaging to his property. Just a bunch of toilet paper, some dyes in his shampoo, conditioner, and shower head, and Wade had swapped all his underwear with cheap lace thongs.

For the record: Scott Summers wears tighty-whities, and that’s a fact you wish you didn’t know.

Scott smacks his hands on the kitchen table. “This is an unfair violation of my personal space!”

You roll your eyes. “It was April Fool’s Day, Scott. Also known as ‘everyone’s free game.’ I mean, come on, Wade and I didn’t even do anything that serious! No blood, no bombs, no breaking anything.”

“You switched out all my underwear with lace thongs!”

“That was Wade. If you want a refund, you can talk to him or the returns person at the nearest Walmart.”

Scott scowls. “Admit it! You’ve been out to get me since the day you got here!”

“You’ve been a pain in the ass since the day I got here. What do you expect me to do?”

“That’s your excuse? That’s your excuse!” He lets out a pissed off laugh and shakes his head. “You’re such a piece of fucking work. No wonder your parents kept you locked in your room. I bet you were a nightmare to deal with.”

You can feel your blood run cold as a dangerous calm sweeps over you. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

“Scott,” Jean says, stiffening in her seat. “Run.”

Scott doesn’t hesitate or offer an apology. He bolts for the back door.

You sprint after him, hot on his heels. You’ve killed before, and you’ve never been so tempted to do it again until this precise moment. “I’m gonna fucking murder you, Summers! You cowardly piece of shit!”

“I didn’t mean it! I misspoke!”

“Like ass you did!” You chase him around the back lawn, managing to scoop up a baseball bat left out by the kids as you do. You use your abilities to summon a burst of wind and push you forward. You close in and move to swing the bat--

It catches on something metal, resulting in a loud clang.

You almost fall off your feet when you can’t jerk your bat away from whatever it’s smacked into and look up.

Piotr frowns down at you, hand wrapped around the barrel of the bat. “No, myshka. This is not appropriate.”

“Not appropriate? On the contrary! This is completely fucking appropriate!” You yank and wrench at the bat. “Give me my bat! I’m going to beat his head in!”

“Uh, no!” Wade interjects. “No erasing Cable from the timeline!”

“Fine! I’ll maim Scott instead!” You brace your foot against Piotr’s legs and try to tug the bat out of his grip --not that it works, but you’re mad beyond reasoning. “Give me the bat!”

“No, myshka. Whatever he said, there is better way to handle this.”

“Oh, but there isn’t!”

“Myshka--”

“Do you know what he said to me?” Your eyes are stinging now, and your shoulders are starting to shake as you try to hold back angry sobs. “He called me a ‘fucking piece of work’ and said that it was no wonder my parents kept me locked in my room because I’m a nightmare!”

That gets a scowl out of him, and he turns to unleash it, full force, at Scott. “Is this true?”

Scott has the decency to look sheepish. “I misspoke.”

“No, misspeaking is calling someone an asshole, or a cunt, or a dipshit!” You snap. “It’s not saying their parents were right for abusing them!”

“I’m inclined to agree.” Professor Xavier emerges from the crowd of watchers, calm as ever. “Mr. Summers, if I could speak to you for a moment. Mr. Rasputin, I trust you can help Ms. Y/L/N calm down.”

Piotr puts a hand on your shoulder, holding you in place --not technically, he’d let you walk away if you wanted to--until the back door closes, leaving the two of you with some privacy.

You scrub at your cheeks with your sleeve, pissed off and embarrassed. “Well. That was a train wreck.”

“It did not go well,” he agrees. “You need to try to react better, myshka. Don’t let him get under your skin as bad.”

“Don’t let him bug me?” You paraphrase with a withering glare. “He said my parents were right for locking me in my room! How am I supposed to not let that piss me off?”

“Myshka, please, try to calm down. Let me try to get the words right,” he says, holding his hands up in a calming gesture.

You make in effort. It’s for him, after all.

“I am not saying Scott was right. He was very wrong, and he should’ve never said any of those things. I am just trying to say that beating him up all the time is not right response. You could get hurt, or someone else could get hurt in process. I think it would be better for you to get someone --the Professor or myself, maybe--when these things happen so you and Scott can work out your differences instead of fighting all the time.”

He’s right, you know he’s right, but outright admitting defeat right now is too great a task. Instead, you contort your face into a comical pout and whine up at him, “Aw, but my way is more fun!”

He smiles softly, a clear indicator that he knows that you know he’s right. “Perhaps, but more dangerous too.”

“Well, yeah, that’s why it’s fun.” The silence that follows lets the pain you’d been holding back rush to the surface. You grit your teeth together as tears sting your eyes. “Fucking asshole. Where the fuck does he get off?”

“People say unkind, unwise things when angry. Scott is one of those people, unfortunately.”

Your lower lip trembles, and you duck your head to hide the fact that you’re starting to cry. “I just... the fuck did I do to deserve that? What did I do as a kid that warranted locking me away?”

There’s a soft grunt as he kneels, and then Piotr’s hands come up to hold your shoulders. “Myshka, look at me. Please.”

You do. Because it’s him. You love him, and you know he’ll never make fun of you for crying.

“You could never do anything to deserve the way your parents treated you,” he says once you look at him. “You are wonderful, and smart, and kind; they were fools not to realize your worth.”

You smile, deeply touched by his unabashed praise of you. “Thanks, Pete. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

He gives you a bashful smile. “I would hope so. You are... you are my best friend, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

“You’re really special to me, too. I’d use the term ‘best friend,’ but I’m afraid Wade would hear, and he’d throw an absolute shit fit if he finds out he has competition for that category.”

Piotr laughs. “Say no more. I understand. Wade is Wade.”

“No kidding.” You hesitate, then ask, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but... can I have a hug? I’m feeling really shitty right now.”

“Of course, myshka. You don’t have to ask.”

You step forward into his arms, winding yours around his neck as you lay your head against his shoulder. You let out a soft sigh as his arms wrap around you, and you melt into the hug.

It’s soft --despite the fact that he’s literally made out of metal--and loving and exactly what you needed.

It’s a complicated, overwhelming moment due to the anger you’re feeling at Scott, the painful memories of your parents that are playing in your mind’s eye, and the utter joy thrumming through your body at being hugged by your crush.

You press against him and start to cry again, unable to really do anything else.

Colossus rubs his hand up and down your back, as gentle and careful as ever. “It’ll be okay, myshka. You’re going to be alright.”

And, despite how you’re feeling right now, you know he’s right. After a moment, you pull back with a sniff. “Thanks. I really needed that.”

“No problem, myshka.”

You grin as he stands. “You use ‘myshka’ more than you use my real name. What’s up with that?”

“Sorry, I--”

You stop him before he can build up too much steam. “No, big guy, I like it. I was teasing you.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “You are nothing but trouble.”

“And yet you keep hanging out with me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked it.” He gets oddly flustered at that, so you move on to spare him any embarrassment of trying to respond. “I still haven’t figured out what it means though. I’m starting to think that you just made it up and are messing with me.”

“It is real word. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know that, Pete. I’m just yanking your chain.” You pat his arm as you cock your head to the side. “So, it’s supposed to be something nice. Is it ‘idiot’ in the sense that I call Wade an idiot? Like, in a loving sense?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nyet. I would not call you ‘idiot’ because it’s unkind. Besides, you are not idiot.”

“Okay, okay. Just thought I’d check.” You quirk your mouth to the side. “Is it a term for ‘friend?’”

“No.”

“Does it mean ‘genius?’”

He laughs. “No, but I would venture to say you are one.”

You grin. “Careful. I will absolutely use you as a reference when I apply for my official certification. What about... ‘super awesome badass?’”

Another laugh. “No.”

You wrack your brain for ideas, then waggle your eyebrows at him, unable to resist an opportunity to rib him a little. “Does it mean ‘sexy?’”

His reaction is immediate. He ducks his head, rubs the back of his neck, and laughs nervously. “Ah... no.” He mutters something else in Russian, and smiles bashfully at you. “That would be something Wade would say, but not me.”

You chuckle. “Fair enough.”

“You know, I could just tell you--”

“Uh-uh. I’m having fun with this. Don’t spoil it for me.”

The ‘myshka’ moments, as you call them, are a near constant part of your life after that. Colossus uses the term more than he uses your own name --not something you mind, though. You’re beyond tickled that he has a nickname for you.

You’re head over heels for him, plain and simple. Just about anyone can tell --except, as it would seem, Piotr.

Or, so you think.

Everything comes to a head a couple months after the hug moment on the back lawn, a little over a year after you arrived at the X-Mansion.

It’s a rainy day, which is almost a calamity in and off itself --it’s the week during the school year where all the teachers meet together and talk about curriculum and meeting student’s needs, which means the X-Force --since none of you, save for Piotr, are teachers--is stuck with babysitting duty.

Fortunately, Piotr volunteered to help, but that still leaves only four adults --Wade doesn’t count, since his impulse control is worse than some of the kids present--and three teenagers to try and manage a group of fifty bouncing, shrieking, hyperactive kids.

Neena ends up having the great idea to play hide and seek --which is perfect, since everyone can play.

You draw the short straw and start counting in the kitchen while everyone runs off. Once you reach ‘one hundred’ you pop up and run up to the library. You heard Piotr’s heavy steps heading in that direction, and an easy find will help you once you start tracking down your kids.

That, and you want to spend some time alone with him, but you’d only admit that to Wade. Under duress.

You pop into the library, victorious smile already tugging at your lips...

And he’s not there.

The library’s not empty, just notably Piotr-less. Instead, a large, pale man dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with black hair and astonishingly blue eyes sits at one of the tables, drawing something on a sketchpad. He looks up when you walk in, seemingly startled.

“Oh --uh--sorry.” You smile politely. You’ve never seen this guy before --and you’d know if you had, because he’s capital H-O-T hot. Massive, thick muscles, smooth skin, gorgeous eyes, chiseled features, the whole nine yards. “Uh, you wouldn’t have happened to see a metal guy walk by, would you? About the size of your average giraffe, made out of steel, probably muttering something about safety or rules.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of the man’s mouth, and he points to the right.

“Thanks.” You pop back out of the library and dart down the hall to the right. You make it about halfway down, then stop.

The man’s face is stuck in your head. He looks so familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen him before.

You jog back to the library, hellbent on scratching this itch that is currently occupying your brain.

The man looks up as you walk back in, smiling slightly as he watches you. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or confused. If anything, he looks borderline amused.

You stare at him, trying to match up his handsome features to the faces that you know at the mansion. You’re sure you’ve never seen his face before, but he also looks so fucking familiar...

And the man, he’s just... letting you stare at him. He’s staring back at you too, brow raised and the corner of his mouth lifted up into an small smile.

And that seals it for you, because there’s no way a stranger would be chill with you just ogling at them like this.

He’s almost the same size as Colossus, you think as you study him.

And that’s where it starts. You know Piotr draws --he teaches art to the kids here, actually. Honestly, this guy looks like him, too. He’s the right build, the right size, just shrunk down a little.

But it can’t be. You peer at his face, and --yeah--the features are right, just a little more delicate and articulate than Colossus’s metal ones. You do a double take, then let out a hesitant, “...Piotr?”

The man laughs --which settles it, because you know that laugh-and nods. “Da.” He sets down his sketchbook. “Honestly, I thought this would work better. I guess I can’t get anything past you, myshka.”

You grin at him, awestruck. “Holy shit... I... I didn’t expect this.”

Because, good God, he’s handsome. He was plenty attractive as a metal titan of justice, but he’s downright gorgeous like this. His hair is dark and fluffy and lays nicely against his forehead. His cheeks are rosy and flushed, and he actually has dimples that you’re guessing don’t show up with the metal armor in place, because you would’ve definitely noticed them before now for as much time you spend staring at his face.

And his eyes. His eyes are doing things to you. They’re making you think dirty, sexual things. You’re going to need to shower in holy water tonight. Holy shit.

“Oh my gosh!” You walk over to the table he’s sitting at and lean against the edge. “I didn’t realize you had a human form! I just thought you were metal all the time!” You hop up onto the edge of the table, look him up and down, and wink at him. “Looking babe-ly, my man.”

He chuckles --and it sounds completely different now that it’s not reverberating through layers of metal, but no less attractive. “Thank you. I prefer to be in my armor. Especially with Wade around.” He wrinkles his nose. “Wade... necessitates being ready for anything.”

You giggle, partially because he’s right, but mostly because you’re completely overwhelmed by his transformation. “Yeah, he does that.” You catch a glimpse of his sketchbook and gasp. “Whoa! You did that?”

It’s a detailed, intricate drawing of a bird. Well, ‘drawing’ might be underselling it; the bird looks so life-like that it looks like it’s about to fly off the page.

Piotr nods, cheeks flushing. “Da. It’s not finished yet.”

You make a choking noise. “Your ‘not finished’ looks like my ‘only in my dreams.’ Can you teach me how to draw? I’d love to get better.”

He nods again, smiling softly. “I would love to.” He leans forward in his seat, an excited expression on his face. “Would you like to see others?”

You nod eagerly. “Hell yeah.”

He shows you a few other sketches --there’s one of the gardens on the grounds, one of a set of mutant twins that shipped in from Russia a few weeks ago, and a full color one of a sunset that makes you gasp.

“Piotr, it’s beautiful,” You murmur as you gaze at the seamless blend of colors.

He cheeks flush again --he’s a blusher, apparently, and you probably shouldn’t like that as much as you do--and he smiles bashfully at you. “Thank you. This is not one of my better ones.”

“It’s wonderful,” You insist. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“You can have it, if you want.”

You blink, startled and undeniably pleased. “Really? I don’t want to take it from you.”

“Really, myshka. If you like it, you can have it.”

“Piotr, that’s so sweet of you. I’d love to have it, if you’ll let me. Though, we should probably keep it in the sketchbook until the day’s done. I wouldn’t want it to get accidentally destroyed.”

You both move to close the sketchbook at the same time, your hands brush against each other. You gasp and stop to clasp his hand --still massive, especially compared to yours--in yours. “Oh my gosh. I’ve never felt you without your armor before!”

Thank goodness that Wade isn’t with you right now, because he’d never let you live that comment down. Unwitting innuendos aside, you’re right --you’ve never touched him out of his ‘armor mode’ before, and his skin is so much softer than you’d expected.

Your fingers make it halfway up his hand before you realize that you’re probably --definitely--crossing way too many lines right now. You withdraw your hand and let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry. That was weird of me.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says quickly, cheeks flushing scarlet. “It feels... good.”

Well. That wasn’t the response you were expecting.

Encouraged by his reaction, you brush your fingers against the back of his hand again, moving them up and down his hand, over his wrist, and up his forearm.

He’s just as muscular as he looks. There doesn’t seem to be an inch of fat on him anywhere, even on his forearms.

You look up, ready to quip about how many protein bars he had to eat to look like this, but the words die in your mouth when you see the look he’s giving you.

He’s staring at you --gazing at you, really. His blue eyes are watching your every move, intense and... maybe even a little fond? He smiles softly as he lifts his free hand and lets his fingers graze against your forearm. “May I?”

You nod, temporarily rendered mute from his intense gaze and the overall earnestness of his expression.

His gaze lowers to follow his fingers as he touches you in kind, fingers brushing against your skin. He traces his fingers over your forearm and up to your shoulder, lips parted slightly as he studies you. Then, in a moment of boldness that you almost can’t believe, he lifts his hand to your face and grazes his fingers against your cheek.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch. You don’t try to stop your pleased smile or the soft, happy sigh that follows. What would be the point? You’re one hundred percent head over heels for this man, and if he hasn’t figured that out by now, he never will.

When you open your eyes again, you gasp.

He’s staring at you, at your face, with such a strong intensity that it almost knocks you over.

You watch as his gaze lingers on your lips for a long moment, then flits back to your eyes, and you decide ‘fuck it’ and lean in to press your lips against his.

Piotr’s reaction is almost immediate. His free hand comes up to press against your back, pulling you towards him.

You slide off the table and into his lap, perhaps a little too happy to close the gap between the two of you. You let your hands rest against his muscular chest, bracing yourself against him.

After a moment, he breaks the kiss, gasping slightly. “Bozhe moi.” He looks utterly delighted as he smiles at you. “I have wanted to do that for... for a while.”

You grin back, completely blissed out. “Yeah. Me too.” You wince when you catch sight of the clock and realize that you’ve spent half an hour in the library with him. “We should probably go find the kids. It’s been thirty minutes.”

Piotr stands --careful to not knock you over--and tucks his sketchbook under his arm. “Da. Lead the way.”

You walk out of the library together, hand in hand.

The rest of the day is spent sharing quick glances and smiles with each other, along with careful, appropriate touches.

Wade shoots you a look when Piotr’s hand lingers on the small of your back longer than strictly necessary, then gives you two thumbs up --along with a series of crass gestures that make you roll your eyes--when you nod and grin excitedly.

Fortunately, the rain lets up about an hour before dinner, which means that you can take the kids outside to eat dinner. Hot dogs and fries --along with plenty of healthy sides, thanks to Piotr--are distributed to all the bouncing, happy kids on brightly colored disposable plastic plates.

You sit next Piotr during dinner and occasionally manage to share sweet looks and smiles with him before one of the kids distracts one or both of you. You can’t help but grin when you watch him converse with the set of twins from Russia, and you absolutely relish the way his leg presses against yours during the entire meal. You stay after everything’s done to help him clean up, hoping to have enough time to sneak another kiss. 

Wade, the ever dependable wing man, manages to persuade or coerce the rest of the X-Force into herding the gaggle of kiddie mutants back into the mansion. He gives you an excited thumbs up, mouths the words ‘suck his face... or his dick’ at you, then disappears inside, closing the door behind him.

You smile up at Piotr. “Hey.”

He smiles back. “Hi.”

“What were you and the twins talking about?” You ask as you stack up a table’s worth of plastic plates.

“Mostly about what they think of America. They think the weather is too hot.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, it must be a big transition for them. Not gonna lie, it was really cute to watch you interact with them.”

He grins and raises his eyebrows. “Da?”

You nod. “Yeah. You’re really good with them.”

He ducks his head, cheeks flushing, then favors you with a bashful smile. “I liked watching you work with girl who can fly. I think you made her day when you showed your abilities.”

“She was a sweetheart,” You agree.

Piotr goes quiet for a moment, then leans forward and kisses your cheek. “She’s not only one.” He ties off the bag of trash from dinner and tosses it in a nearby barrel. “Shall we go for walk?” he asks when he turns back around.

You nod eagerly and take his hand.

The two of you walk towards the gardens, talking quietly about the day and what you think about the kids living at the X-Mansion.

Piotr leads you to a bench tucked behind a tree. He tugs your hand gently so that you sit down next to him and promptly presses his lips against yours once you do. “Sorry,” he says once the two of you part. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

You kiss him again, simply out of the satisfaction that you can. “Don’t apologize. I was hoping you’d do that.” You snuggle up against him and lay your head against his shoulder. “So, do you want to know what my last guess for what ‘myshka’ means is?”

He grins at you. “Sure.”

You can feel your face flush as you gaze up at him. “Does it mean ‘beautiful?’”

He shakes his head. “Nyet, though you are very beautiful.”

You can help but glow under his affection. “Well, then, I give up. I have no idea what it means.”

“Does that mean I can tell you now?”

“Go for it. I’m dying to know.”

He takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. “It means ‘little mouse.’”

You frown at him. “Really? ‘Little mouse?’ I know I’m short, but I didn’t think I was that small.”

He laughs quietly. “It is not about height.” The tips of his ears go downright scarlet. “In Russia, it is term of endearment... that boyfriends use for girlfriends.”

Oh.

You have to take a minute to process the new information.

He’d been calling you myshka for the better part of a year now --knowing full well what it meant.

“Does... does that mean you liked me all this time?”

He nods, fixing with that intense, gorgeous blue gaze of his. “Da. You are kind, and smart, and unbelievably fierce, and achingly beautiful. You swept me off my feet the moment I met you with your humor and spirit, and I have been in love with you ever since.”

“Why didn’t you say something? I could’ve kissed you months ago!”

“You told me not to say anything! What was I supposed to do?”

You slump back against the tree. “Man, the one time my stubborn streak really doesn’t pay off.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I think it all worked out in end.”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m disagreeing with that.” You grin up at him. “So, Mr. Rasputin, is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He blushes, but nods. “Da.”

You’re pleased beyond words, and simply opt to kiss him again.

“May I take that as ‘yes?’” he asks when you break the kiss, slightly breathless.

“Da,” You reply, earning a soft, sweet smile and an equally sweet kiss from him.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #piotr rasputin imagine #colossus imagine #x men fanfiction #this is literally so fluffy #also #most of this was written at 5 am #take that for what you will #god i love colossus so much #he's so precious

[dramarising-replacement]

I agree with that last confession, this blog is a hot mess. 99% of the people on here make me embarrassed that the FR community is this awful. Honestly? DR could’ve been a nice place to talk about the site without breaking any of the forum rules, but you all ruin it with your negativity. This blog is a cesspool of homophobia and shitty mogai politics. You make fun of newbies and beginner artists who haven’t done anything to deserve it. I’ve personally witnessed people being made fun of for submitting innocent questions when it would be so much easier to give a kind, genuine reply or just scroll past. You’re so petty, and proud of it. I know you think it’s cool, edgy, and funny or whatever; I get it, I’ve been there. But its so immature and nothing to brag about. This is all made worse when I go to your blog and read that you’re 20+, lol grow UP. You bring up weeks old drama, MONTHS old drama because a user you don’t like dares to, idk, post on the forums of a site you mutually visit. Newsflash, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and users don’t cease to exist simply because you don’t like them or find them annoying. I’m friends with a few users who’ve been witch hunted here, and it’s almost laughable the way some of you will go out of your way to blatantly lie just to spread more drama. I know you’ll probably just comment “waaaa this is a DRAMA BLOG!!! go away tumblerina!!” but I honestly don’t care. This has been floating around in my mind for a while and I need to get it out. I visit this blog once in a blue moon to see if anything interesting is going on, if anything has changed, but you’re all as immature as ever.

Btw: misandry isn’t real you dumbfucks

Also: what’s this with complaining about the captchas? Who cares? Copy paste your post and refresh the page if it’s taking so long, geez louise.

#confessions #submission

[g0ldpainted]

What would the bros think of Eddie Gluskin from Outlast?

Hello Anon! :) 

I am so incredibly sorry that this took forever. At first, I didn’t know how to do this, then watched all Eddie scenes to refresh my memory and then my job got in the way.

I wrote this as a scenario. It’s technically one story. Noctis leads to Prompto which leads to Gladio and Ignis (while the last two technically play at the same time).

But in short: 

Noctis thinks Eddie is utterly disturbing. At first, he thinks it’s just a weird guy.. but then his disgust for him grows steadily. In short, he hates him.

Prompto is completely terrified of him. Any- and every time he sees Eddie, he feels shivers running down his spine. This guy is coming straight out of his nightmares.

Gladiolus doesn’t really care at first. It just seems like any other antagonist to him. Eventually, he’s fed up about Eddie. To him, he’s unworthy of living and absolutely disgusting.

Ignis tries to analyze the antagonist.. but in this case, he gave up. In his eyes, Eddie is so fucked up there’s no turning back or saving him. However, he does like Eddie’s clothes.

Words: 4780+

Genre: Fun ^^

Spoiler: For outlast! Other than that these scenarios play pre-game.

Noctis:

“What’re you playing?” the dark-haired male wondered as he entered the room after an exhausting round of training with Gladiolus. 

“Oh hey!” his significant other proclaimed, turning their head away from the screen for a split second to show him their wonderful smile, “This is Outlast, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it.”

“Outlast?” Noctis wondered, stepping closer to them while rubbing a towel along his neck.

“Yeah. How about you take a quick shower and then join me?” his s/o suggested, “Doesn’t cuddles and games sound great to you?“ 

"It actually does, ” he chuckled. 

“Great! So hurry up otherwise you’ll miss the best parts,” his s/o urged him while they turned their head back towards the screen in front of them.

“Alright, alright - I’ll be right back,” he shook his head in disbelief, a soft smile spread across his lips, though.

So while their boyfriend went to conquer the bacteria and sweat on his body, they shrieked at every possible scary part, followed by a heartfelt laughter. Gaming was something the couple enjoyed greatly. May it be a round of King’s Knight or a round of Singstar - they enjoyed it all. Together, any and every game was fun. They either bashed the games, made fun of how bad they were, or were both following the story - if one existed - eagerly. Playing Kingdom Hearts was their nightly ritual: before bed, they always played an hour of it. And sometimes, most times, that hour became four and they stayed up all night. While his s/o could sleep throughout the day, Noctis, unfortunately, had royal chores to do. But at the end of the day, he always stayed awake for his precious lover that he adored more than anything. They better appreciate that prince sleepy head sacrifices his sleep for them. However, napping together was another one of their favorite activities.Little did the Prince of Dreamland know that he wouldn’t be up for any sleep tonight.After he took the long-awaited hot shower, he hopped into his sleepwear and cuddled up beside his S/O on the bed. Then their gaming evening began. Chapters one could finish in no time suddenly took forever. The controller flew around their bed whenever they reacted to a jumpscare, sometimes even hit the floor but luckily never broke. It was all, rather cruel, fun and games until a certain character came into the scene. Eddie Gluskin. From his appearance to the way he acted, he had a creepy vibe the second he showed up. While Noctis’ S/O managed to compliment his clothing, Noctis saw a pure danger. Nonetheless, they didn’t bother all too much. Until that weirdo actually attempted to women-ify the male protagonist. Not only did Noctis imagine the possible pain this different type of castration could’ve caused, he also shrieked when the saw was turned on.A loud exhale and a tap onto the Playstation-Home-Button followed right after. He. Was. Done.

“What type of freak is that?! Gross” he exclaimed, staring at his s/o in disbelief, “What went wrong in his head to try to turn guys into girls - his dream wife even?! And he even did it to others before?! But they were never good enough - what the fuck?!" 

"Calm down, Noct. It’s just a game” his S/O tried to shrug it off although they were disgusted too.  

“I just thought he was one of those innocent, sick in the head dudes that wouldn’t hurt a fly but have a cruel imagination - but really, he’s just the impersonation of evil and disgusting” Noctis argued, “I knew he’d be problematic but this is so not what I expected." 

"He’s probably been through a lot” his S/O returned. 

“So what? Doesn’t mean he can go around harming people like that purely for his entertainment” Noctis groaned, entering the game again, “I swear if he shows up again, I’ll delete this game asap and ban it in Insomnia." 

"Noct you’re acting like he almost chopped your… eeh, little friend off - it’s just a game” his S/O continued to try to calm him down. 

“This doesn’t change how disgusting this truly is. I don’t even want to begin to imagine people getting inspired by this - what if this happens in Insomnia?! We have to get rid of this game” he groaned, angrily moving the joystick around to make the protagonist walk.

Laughing, his S/O took the controller out of his hands: “Maybe you should let me play, otherwise you’re gonna break this controller.” Without hesitation, he handed the controller over to his beloved one, pouting right after though.

“Typical King, always looking out for his folk” his s/o joked, nudging their elbow into his sides playfully.

“Stupid game” Noctis groaned in return.

“Scared this might happen to you?” his s/o continued to tease him.

He didn’t even have to answer, they say it in his face: he was.And so his s/o had to play through to the very end of their gaming session. Noctis stayed quiet, only jumped every now and then. There was only one part in which he spoke up.

“Serves you right, you dumbfuck!” he shouted as Eddie experienced his last moments, a grin spread so widely across his face that he almost seemed insane.

Although the almighty dismemberer passed away, Noctis kept dreaming about the horrible sequence, cursing the game even days after.Little did anyone know that he wasn’t quite as tough as he usually pretended to be during horror movies and games. While he couldn’t ban the game, it was his dad ruining the fun. King Regis overheard his son venting to his best friend, the sunshine boy Prompto, and after hearing the summary, he instantly filled a contract to get it banned. He wouldn’t let any other humans get influenced by this. However, Noctis wasn’t done venting and now that it was a rare gem, he wanted to show his other friends the trouble he went through.

Prompto:

The second Noctis mentioned a cruel, gory and jumpscare filled game, he just wanted to run away and hide. While Prompto certainly didn’t hate horror related themes, simply preferred cute movies, he hated what Noctis told him about that game. But he finally gave in when Noctis forced him into watching the scene again - he still had the copy at his place, might as well show his best friend the cruel scene. So after an evening full of Prompto shrieking, maids coming in to check on them and his dad suspecting they were doing the do, they finally reached the gruesome chapter.

“Look at it!” Noctis ordered, followed by a grunt, “Open your eyes, Prompt!” Glancing over at the blonde, Noctis saw how he used his hands to block his eyes, only peaked through his fingers.

“C'mon, I haven’t played this far for you to chicken out” he groaned, using his free hand to tug on his hands.

“No! This is disgusting!” Prompto insisted, shutting his eyes.

“Chicken, you should appreciate me showing this game to you - it’s banned! I’m risking my dad freaking out on me only to show you that Gluskin guy” Noctis murmured, pressing the pause button before putting the controller down and crossing his arms.

Feeling his insecurities kick in, Prompto immediately opened his eyes: “You don’t have to be so mean.." 

Before the Prince even said another word, he resumed the cutscene, resulting in Prompto shrieking again, his expression changing drastically.

"Why would you play this?!” the blonde complained, watching the scene in horror.

“My lover played it” he shrugged.

Just to tease his best friend, Noctis continued playing the game further and further. Prompto was in no way able to complain, the poor sunshine boy just grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it. There was no way he was going to watch all of this. While Noctis suddenly seemed to enjoy himself, Prompto was struggling big time. The game utterly terrified him. That shy cinnamon roll wasn’t prepared, not at all. And when Noctis passed the controller to him, forcing him to play the next part, and another jumpscare happened, the controller flew right through the room. It broke.At first, Prompto wanted to celebrate - finally, they’d be done playing this horrible game - but no, Noctis got a spare. The gaming went on. Eventually, Prompto was so scared, he started shaking.

“Prompt, it’s 2am, you should go home by now” Noctis bribed him, already preparing himself for bed. 

While the second playthrough didn’t upset Noctis nearly as much, the blonde was scarred.

“Can’t I stay t-the night?” he suggested, clutching onto the pillow in his hands.  

“No, the maids will think we’re dating.. And I can’t have them think I cheat on my precious s/o” Noctis explained, holding his hand out to the little blonde mass of fear sitting on the ground. 

“Eh.. Just a little longer?” Prompto murmured, not wanting to get up anytime soon.. In face, not wanting to get up at all. 

He was so horrified, he didn’t even want to leave the place because that’d mean he’d have to walk through the dark street - all on his own, too. 

“Unfortunately, that’s impossible” Noctis groaned, reaching out to his friend to lift him up on his feet. 

Overpowering him wasn’t hard; much to Prompto’s dismay, Noctis had him on his feet in no time. With shaking legs, trembling lips and widened eyes he stared at the future king, silently pleading him to leave him alone. 

“Prompt, it’s late, c'mon” Noctis rolled with his eyes, getting more impatient by the second, “You know (s/o) will come over tomorrow.”

This time, the blonde just stayed silent, didn’t speak a word. In the end, he would only plead his best friend to let him stay the night so he wouldn’t have to walk through the dark alleyways to his home.Sighing, Noctis resigned and pulled out his phone - he wasn’t going to let him stay the night.. But at least he wouldn’t let his scared friend walk home on his own. 

“I’ll call (Y/N) over..” he murmured, searching through the contacts on his phone.  

Feeling shame wash over him, Prompto started staring at the floor. He usually stayed away from horror related things - unless his significant other would ask him to watch or play something with him. But aside from that, it simply wasn’t his cup of tea. And playing on his own just made it worse. 

“Hey (Y/N), yeah, sorry for waking you. I- uh.. Prompto is here and he’s having a situation.. Uhm.. You have a car right?” Noctis briefly explained, trying hard to not embarrass his best friend - it was his fault he was struggling, not embarrassing him in front of his significant other was the least thing he could do.

“Awesome, we’re at the citadel. I’ll pick you up from the stairs so the guards won’t cause trouble” he continued to elaborate, watching the blonde quiver in front of him. 

“Thanks, see you in a bit” he said his goodbyes before hanging up, “Heads up Prompt, your lover will be here in a bit.”

Hearing that was both terrifying and reassuring to him - he was scared to seem like a wimp, yet happy he wouldn’t have to walk on his own. He was sure his s/o would gladly care for him.. But still he felt ashamed of his behavior. His fear was stronger than his will to seem strong, though.

The following minutes went by in a flash. Noctis brought his best friend some tea while daggers were sent at him from numerous guards. It was late, the prince was supposed to be in bed. He had rules to obey to - that was one of them. But Prompto was more important. Sneaking down the stairs wasn’t all too easy either, guards had already approached Prompto’s S/O and prepared to take them away, thinking they were a threat. The prince himself had to announce they were innocent and coming for a visit - which made those guards even more suspicious.

The prince having a visitor late at night? That surely was a taboo. Prompto was fine - but a female? Eeh. Even sneaking his girl in was difficult and required a long talk with his dad about his duties as king and.. The sex talk. Yup.Regardless, while Prompto was sipping his tea and sitting on Nocits’ bed, his S/O entered the room.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” they immediately said, approaching him with open arms, ready to pull him into a hug.  

“We played Outlast.. He got scared” Noctis scoffed, teasing his friend. 

“It was a horrible scene” Prompto complained, “I didn’t want to see that."  

"Do you want to tell me what happened?” his s/o wondered, sitting down beside him to embrace his shaking frame.

“Some crazy guy wanted to castrate the protagonist and he’s generally insane - now Prompt is too scared to walk home on his own” Noctis continued to tease him, hurting his friends ego quite a bit.

“It was gross” he murmured in response.  

“That does sound disgusting, why’d you show this to him if he asked you not to?” Prompto’s s/o spoke up for him.

Noctis just shrugged to that, unsure of what to say as he took his smartphone out.

“Wanna go to my place?” Prompto’s s/o suggested, squeezing him gently. 

“I’d love to” he proclaimed with a shaky voice.

“Alright, I’m here with my car.. Don’t worry about having to walk” they announced. 

“Sounds good” the blonde quietly replied.

“Already leaving?” Noctis asked, typing away on his phone.  

“Yes” they firmly replied, helping their boyfriend stand on his feet. 

“Alright, I’ll guide you outside” the future king announced, tugging his phone away and heading back to the entrance.

They followed right behind him, waved their goodbyes and climbed into the car. Again, the guards were keeping a close eye on them.. But most were relieved the female left - they’d have to report that to the king himself. Especially if it was someone other than Noctis’ official girlfriend. Even in the car, Prompto was still shaking but his s/o’s near made him feel secure. He treasured them greatly, loved them do no end. And thankfully, they were so kind not to mock him. They understood and supported him. And for that, he loved them greatly. 

“I’m sure he’s going to tell Gladio and Ignis..” Prompto groaned, fastening the seatbelt. 

“He better not” his s/o murmured.

Oh boy, he did.

Gladiolus:

“Hey babe” the muscular man greeted his s/o after a sweaty workout.

“Oh, hey” they replied, continuously chopping food for lunch, only sending a short smile his way. 

“How’s it going?” he asked, wrapping his arms around his s/o from behind and resting his head on their shoulder, “Looks good - one of your special salads?" 

"Mmh” they hummed in agreement, turning their head to place a tender kiss on his cheek.

“Noct just told me about a sleepover he’s having later. It’s a bit sudden but he asked us to join.. Are you interested?” Gladio wondered, kissing his s/o’s neck, “I mean.. We could also rattle the bed a little." 

"Gladdy, stop” they giggled, shaking their head to make him stop, “You smell." 

"Awh.. Guess that means I’ll take a quick shower” he fake-pouted, slowly letting go of his s/o pretending to be walking off. 

“Yup” they simply replied, still chipping some vegetables.

Catching them off guard, Gladiolus brushed their hair aside and kissed their nape softly followed by a gentle bite: “Or how about you joining me?"  

"Gladdy, no” they bit their lip hard, still denying him, though. 

“Fiiine” he groaned, giving in, “I’ll head to the shower.”

“Also, the sleepover is on - text him we’ll be there” his s/o announced.

“You really wanna go? I was hoping for some alone time with you” the broad man argued, sounding quite disappointed, “It’s our only day off.”

“It’s your friend and it’s a rare occasion that he invites his friends and their partners.. So yes, we’ll go and see what he’s up to” they reasoned, “Also, hurry up, food is almost ready.”

“Alright, you win” he chuckled, raising his hands up in surrender.

There was only one person that Gladio chose not to argue with, and that was his s/o. They were clever, too clever and they had a strong will. Convincing them was insanely hard. But he loved that they were someone that didn’t succumb to what he said. They weren’t scared of him, they just were themselves and Gladio greatly treasured that. Of course, sometimes they did argue or even end up fighting. Tears were shed, every now and then pillows flew through the room but he was usually just as emotional as his s/o. If one cried, the other cried. They couldn’t stay mad at each other for long, it was simply impossible.

Once the prince’s shield finished showering and they ate lunch, they prepared for their night at the citadel. Together, they packed two bags containing clothes and some simple toiletries. You bet Gladaddy kept trying to get in their pants but nope, they were not having it. They were already excited for what was to come. A night at the citadel, probably a dinner sponsored by the King himself and beds so unbearably soft got them in patiently excited. Oh, and of course a fun time with the Prince and his friends.. And their partners.

It didn’t take long before they arrived at the sleepover. Just to seem kind they brought chips and soda. Little did they know that their appetite would die down in the next hours. What started off as a nice evening, some drinks here and there - thank God the King didn’t know and Ignis was good at making them - and a huge ass dinner, soon turned into a nightmare. Prompto abruptly left with his s/o, something he’d usually never do. No one understood until Noctis wiped out a copy of Outlast.

“Guys, we have to play this game” he proclaimed. 

Noctis’ s/o was already burying their head in shame; they were the reason he wanted to play this… Again.

“Isnt that the forbidden game? Didn’t the King ban it just recently?” Ignis asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“10 points to Iggy!” Noctis chuckled as he shouted, putting the CD in his console. 

“Is that a horror game?” Gladio’s s/o asked their boyfriend.

“I think so” he replied, shrugging. 

The first few minutes were fine, it was a little scary, but didn’t have enough action for Gladio just yet. Needlessly to say, he was bored. His eyes were merely paying attention to the screen, instead, they often wandered towards his s/o, intently watching every move they made. They seemed to be engulfed by the events shown on Noctis’ huge TV. To comfort them, he wrapped one of his arms around their shoulders and pulled them closer.

“It’s just a ga-” Gladio was about to whisper into their ear but a squeal from them made him shut up and frown instead. 

His eardrum might as well have cracked in that exact moment. Glancing at the screen, he only saw some kind of fighting scene. Well, it ended up being a lot crueler than he expected it to be.

“Does he..” he whispered in disbelief, immediately covering his s/o’s eyes to spare them 

“Oh yeah” Noctis exclaimed, sounding oddly proud of showing this scene to everyone.

“That’s just gross” Glado scoffed in return, “I didn’t come here to see video game dic-" 

"Just shush and watch” Noctis shut him up, “Prompto was scared shitless.”

“Why would you show this to Prompto anyway” he returned, growling a tiny bit as he was getting pissed off with Noctis’ attitude, “You know he’s easily scared.”

“It was fun” he argued.

“Oh c'mon, I’m done with this” Gladiolus rolled his eyes, getting up in one swift motion, pulling his s/o up as well, “I thought we were having a fun night instead of playing some bullshit horror game." 

"I was expecting more” his s/o quietly admitted, pouting lightly. 

“Babe, we should go home. I refuse to watch this dude -" 

"His name’s Eddie Gluskin” Noctis’ s/o informed him. 

“I don’t care. This is childish horror stuff meant to scar people. It’s not even scary it’s just gore -” Gladio complained, “And this antagonist is utterly ridiculous." 

"He’s been through a lot, all his actions make sense if you analy-” Noctis’ s/o was about to throw in, only to be cut off by the prince’s shield. 

“Bullshit!”

“Calm down” Gladiolus s/o urged him, “You’re overreacting.”

“Ugh, you’re right.. I’m wasting my energy on this. We should head home” he reasoned in return, agreeing to his s/o, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Without wasting another minute at the citadel, Gladiolus and his s/o headed out. Well. Weeeell. They did head out but they didn’t go home just yet. It didn’t take long before his precious s/o started freaking out at the slightest noise - even just some guard repositioning himself to standing straight. Taking them home through the darkness would only resort in emotional stress that Gladio didn’t want to put them through. Instead, he had another idea.Naughty as he couldn’t help himself to be, he led them to the training room. That was the only room he had unlimited access too. And of course, being the genius he sometimes was, he brought the keys with him.

“Hey, ssh, it’s okay babe” he whispered to his s/o, slowly guiding them into the room.

Looking at his s/o so shaken up and tense, all he wanted to do was make them feel good. Very good.

“You bet I’ll make him train extra hard for that” he assured them, slowly trailing kisses around their face, “Just try to relax for a bit.”

And so they ended up enjoying the night probably the most of them all. It was just a little unfortunate that the King himself walked up on them the next morning.

Ignis:

What was meant to be a fairly fun evening, turned out to be a catastrophe. Noctis abruptly made Ignis stay longer, asked him to buy ingredients for certain cocktails and sneak them up. That was easier said than done - most guards were suspiciously looking him up and down. Those 3 bags couldn’t only contain casual food, could they? Luckily, he got away without any trouble. However, it was then that Noctis asked him to invite his s/o, claiming that his own s/o would show up as well and that even Gladiolus and his partner were invited. He said he wanted this to be a big party.. Yet only with close friends.

Believing in the good of him, Ignis didn’t think much of it and gladly invited his beloved s/o that he got to spend such little time with. Every minute with them was dear to him. Wasting even a single second upset him greatly. They were busy with educating themselves, he was busy working for his best friend. They only met on weekends due to distance as well. It was mere luck that Noctis informed the advisor early enough for his s/o to actually catch the last train. Ignis originally planned on visiting them but Noctis’ party changed that plan entirely.Ignis sincerely thought this was going to be a pleasant evening. And although he didn’t agree to getting drunk, he didn’t mind taking a few drinks. All he cared about was seeing his s/o. They were actually the first one to show up.

While Noctis was roaming around the room, obviously looking for something but the couple couldn’t care less. They were completely engaged in talking, caressing each other lovingly and sweetly.

“I’m glad you could make it” the advisor softly spoke to his lover, “I feared we wouldn’t get to see each other this week since the prince had more duties for me." 

"Yeah, the last train was a little delayed - it was pure luck” they admitted, gently leaning against their boyfriend’s body who held them in his embrace. 

“I missed you” he whispered into their ear, not wanting Noctis to hear all too much of their private talk. 

“I missed you, too” they replied, listening to his soothing heartbeat. 

“Specs, have you seen my Outlast disk?” Noctis suddenly asked, tearing their little romantic moment apart with his loud voice.

“Your.. What?” he wondered, carefully letting go of his s/o so they wouldn’t be embarrassed because Noctis saw their intimacy. 

“Outlast disk” Noctis impatiently replied, “The game."  

"I fear not. Isn’t that the game your majesty banned?” Ignis asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he started preparing some simple snacks - another task Noctis randomly threw at him.

“Exactly. We’re gonna play that tonight” the prince announced, lifting some books up off the ground, desperately looking for it, “Last time you cleaned up, did you by any chance see it?”

“I just told you - no” the advisor repeated.

“You’re.. Cleaning for him?” his s/o asked, surprised by what their boyfriend does as job.

“Indeed, it’s part of my duty to look after him.. If he’s feeling especially lazy but this room is a mess, I help him” he explained to them, making sure to hold eye contact for as long as possible - simply because he missed those gorgeous eyes. 

“I’m not lazy!” Noctis complained from afar. 

“Yes he is” Ignis quietly mumbled to his s/o, smiling at them.

Once all crownsguard members and their partners had arrived, Noctis grew impatient. He couldn’t wait to play the game, it was written all over his face - even though he was the one who initially hated it. Drinks and laughs were shared, jokes were yelled through the room and even funny party games were played. It was all fun and games until Noctis started up the game.

As educated as Ignis was, he had never heard of this game. He only knew it was banned so he prepared for something terrible. While everyone fed on the snacks he prepared, Ignis just clutched onto the bottle of vodka he bought for a cocktail. The first minutes already bothered him, the entire setting didn’t seem appealing to him. While the game mechanics still interested him, the asylum theme highly concerned him. That was a strong sign that they weren’t going to play some easy kindergarten spooky game. Oh hell no.

It didn’t take long before his s/o cuddled up in his arms so they could hide their face whenever something scary happened. While Prompto left hours ago, Gladiolus was pissed off and Noctis’ s/o laid passed out on his bed, moving every now and then.. Ignis was casually drinking on. He didn’t really mean to but the urge of playing a drinking game suddenly got to him. Each time a jump scare occurred, he took a sip. By the time they reached Noctis’ favorite scene, his vision was already blurred. Usually, he would’ve tried to understand the story and the antagonists’ actions but.. he was to hammered.

“Oh my god..” his s/o whispered, burying her face in his torso.

Blinking a few times, Ignis slowly saw the scene unfold. It was then that he took not of the person attacking the protagonist: Eddie Gluskin.

“Admittedly, he has a good taste in clothing” Ignis proclaimed, “He’s dressing nicely." 

Shocked by the only thing their boyfriend had to say about this scene, they glared up at him, his drunken glance meeting their sober ones. By the time they reached the ending - which didn’t take all to long thanks to Noctis’ good memory - Ignis was still sipping on his bottle, his s/o was shaking and Noctis happily finished the game. Gladio had left hours ago with his s/o. Ignis was the only one still around.. More or less.

"Specs what did you think of him?” the curious prince wondered, “It was intense right?" 

"He wears nice clothes.. Is a little insane.. Kills innocent people.. But his taste in clothing is good” Ignis repeated, slurring on almost every word, “It’s a bad guy, we should stay away from him.”

If only Ignis hadn’t been drinking too much, perhaps he’d have other views of him. The only reason he even took that bottle was his own silent fear. The advisor was way too proud to share how gross this game was to him and that all characters highly disgusted him. From head to toe, he wanted to bathe them in shampoo and potion. The only thing he could actively recall at this point were Eddie’s fine clothes. Too bad his s/o witnessed it all and was ready to bother him all night with it.

Masterlist

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #final fantasy #ff #final fantasy 15 #ff15 #noctis lucis caelum #noctis #noct #prompto argentum #prompto #gladiolus amicitia #gladiolus #gladdy #gladio #gladaddy #ignis scientia #ignis #iggy #specs #chocobros #react #think of #Anonymous

[lysapadin]

1, 7, 15, and 25 for the authors ask

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

Not really. I mean, sometimes I’ll have an idea that I can’t get to because I’m neck-deep in something else, but either I end up writing it or the idea just kind of drifts away.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

Neither, really. Mostly I’m just matter-of-fact about it. Yep, I write. It’s fanfiction actually. Well, fanfiction is when... etc.

I am waiting for someone at work to ask me what it is I’m writing about on my lunch break, because I’m dying to look them straight in the eye and calmly say “Porn.” Just to see what happens.

15) why did you start writing?

Huh. Well, I’ve been writing pretty much as long as I can remember, so apparently it’s just in me.

In more specific terms, there’s usually something that I want canon to be doing that it’s not doing, or isn’t doing properly, and I have to do something about that.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

"Dude." The way Lance's mood shifts so fast could just about give Keith whiplash. He goes serious in the space between one heartbeat and the next. "A broken leg?"

"Yeah," Keith says. "Probably ribs, too. Definitely an arm."

Lance is quiet for so long that Keith could almost think they've lost the connection if not for the fact that he's had days and days to learn what that actually sounds like. This silence isn't the same at all.

At last Lance takes a breath. "Keith. Dude. You know these things come with seatbelts, don't you?"

As a matter of fact, no, Keith did not know that. He aims a query at Red and gets a pulse of surprise back from her that carries a definite sense of I thought you knew mingled with a guilty You didn't ask.

"I'm going to take that as you being too proud to admit that you didn't know about the seatbelts," Lance announces, which is when Keith realizes he's been quiet for too long. "Buddy, we are gonna give you shit for the rest of your natural life. You are going to go down as a cautionary tale for future paladins: Don't be like this dumbfuck, they'll tell the baby paladins, always buckle your damned seatbelts. Congratulations, asshole, your legacy is all set."

"Oh, good, that's what I've always wanted," Keith says, watching a fleck of light moving across the horizon, too fast to be anything natural, at least form what he's seen of this planet (which, admittedly, isn't all that much).

"They'll write books about how much of a dumbfuck you are," Lance promises as the speck grows larger with every passing second. "We'll make it its own field of study, red paladins and recklessness." The speck gets larger, resolves into the ludicrous sight of a flying robot lion the color of the sky. "Someday there'll be case studies about what a complete moron you are."

"Promises," Keith says as Blue touches down as lightly as something that size can, which is to say that the ground shakes beneath him and Red. "You got any water in there? I'm dying of thirst."

Lance is quiet for just a beat too long. "Not fucking funny, Keith."

"Are you kidding? That was hilarious."

#meme #natodiangelo #ask

[chipsandwaffles]

4:52 P.M

Johnny Boy, 4:53 P.M y/n has a secret??? Coolest Guy, 4:53 P.M secret???? You, 4:54 P.M I don’t have a secret yuta is overacting Mountain Man, 4:54 P.M I’M NOT. YOU SAID SOMEONE IN NCT WAS YOUR SOULMATE. WHO IS IT

Or alternatively, NCT 127 find out your soulmate is one of them and they question you about it in your group chat.

Mountain Man, 4:52 P.M Y/N! WHO IS IT

You, 4:52 P.M don’t know what you’re talking about yuta

Mountain Man, 4:52 P.M LIAR.

Johnny Boy, 4:53 P.M y/n has a secret???

Coolest Guy, 4:53 P.M secret????

You, 4:54 P.M I don’t have a secret yuta is overacting

Mountain Man, 4:54 P.M I’M NOT. YOU SAID SOMEONE IN NCT WAS YOUR SOULMATE. WHO IS IT

Yoonoh more like…, 4:54 P.M clearly not you since you’re asking

Johnny Boy, 4:54 P.M …that was doyoung level roasting oh my god

Yoonoh more like…, 4:55 P.M I didn’t want to grab my phone so I stole jaehyun’s

Johnny Boy, 4:55 P.M nice.

Mountain Man, 4:56 P.M maybe it is me you don’t know you dodo bird fuck you you’ve never seen y/n’s mark YOU DON’T KNOW

You, 4:57 P.M ……………..okay but I only told one person that

You, 4:57 P.M MARK LEE YOU RATTED ME OUT

MARK LEE!!, 4:57 P.M You know I can’t keep secrets

Coolest Guy, 4:57 P.M true. you played yourself y/n

You, 4:58 P.M did you guys know I hate all of you?

Yoonoh more like…, 4:58 P.M clearly not since one of us is your soulmate. So then you love at least one of us

You, 4:59 P.M I especially hate you doyoung

Kim Dodumb, 5:00 P.M can we make bets on who it is? I’m betting it’s me

Yoonoh more like…, 5:00 P.M jaehyun get the fuck off my phone.

Kim Dodumb, 5:00 P.M get off my phone first

Kim Dodumb, 5:00 P.M done don’t touch my phone again.

You, 5:01 P.M Maybe I was just fucking with mark. He’s easy to tease

Coolest Guy, 5:01 P.M also true.

Mountain Man, 5:01 P.M we all know that’s bullshit. You don’t tease mark you think it’s unethical

You, 5:02 P.M ……..he’s like a puppy okay shut up yuta

Johnny Boy, 5:03 P.M so…… y/n isn’t lying????

Yoonoh more like…, 5:03 P.M Then who is it? Did you tell Mark??

You, 5:04 P.M why would I tell mark I’m not stupid

MARK LEE!!, 5:04 P.M You’re all the worst

Kim Dodumb, 5:05 P.M Let’s make bets on who it is

You, 5:05 P.M let’s not and move on from this conversation

Yoonoh more like…, 5:05 P.M bets sound more fun. I’m betting it’s me

Kim Dodumb, 5:05 P.M why would it be you of all people

Yoonoh more like…, 5:06 P.M well it’s not you

Kim Dodumb, 5:06 P.M wasn’t going to bet on myself anyways??? I’m not stupid

You, 5:06 P.M guys this conversation is stupid come on let’s go back to talking about how our days were how about that?

MARK LEE!!, 5:06 P.M I think it’s ty hyung. y/n didn’t deny it when I asked

Kim Dodumb, 5:06 P.M that was my bet as well

Mountain Man, 5:07 P.M no way no way can’t be him. It’s either me or me

Kim Dodumb, 5:07 P.M we get it yuta. You have a crush on y/n.

Johnny Boy, 5:08 P.M I think it’s Taeil hyung

Coolest Guy, 5:09 P.M aren’t you guys narrowing it down too much? There’s like twenty of us

MARK LEE!!, 5:09 P.M not only is he bad at science but basic math as well…

Coolest Guy, 5:09 P.M says the one who copies off of my homework when we’re not even in the same grade

Yoonoh more like…, 5:09 P.M wrecked lol

You, 5:10 P.M okay see this is why I didn’t want to tell anyone ;;;;;

Kim Dodumb, 5:10 P.M we’d fine out eventually though since it’s one of us

Kim Dodumb, 5:10 P.M Tell us the year he was born and we’ll stop asking about it

You, 5:10 P.M liar that never happens you keep asking questions every time

Coolest Guy, 5:11 P.M Twenty questions let’s go.

You, 5:11 P.M no.

Coolest Guy, 5:11 P.M please? TT_TT

Coolest Guy, 5:12 P.M y/n please….. we just want to know more about our friend

Coolest Guy, 5:15 P.M TTTTTTTTTTTT_TTTTTTTTTTTT

You, 5:15 P.M …..UGH FINE.

You, 5:15 P.M twenty questions go.

Coolest Guy, 5:15 P.M is he older than me?

You, 5:16 P.M yes.

Johnny Boy, 5:16 P.M younger than Taeil hyung?

You, 5:16 P.M yes

Mountain man, 5:16 P.M Is it me?

You, 5:16 P.M no

Yoonoh more like…, 5:17 P.M is he handsome?

You, 5:17 P.M …yes? You’re all handsome though

Mountain Man, 5:18 P.M is he as handsome as me?

You, 5:18 P.M …….more handsome

Mountain Man, 5:19 P.M seriously???

You, 5:19 P.M yep. That’s one of your questions

Kim Dodumb, 5:19 P.M oh thanks yuta we’re going to be fucked in the end because of you

Coolest Guy, 5:19 P.M Is it mark?

You, 5:20 P.M no

MARK LEE!!, 5:20 P.M oh good

You, 5:21 P.M …………I’ll pretend I’m not insulted by that mark

MARK LEE!!, 5:21 P.M no wait I didn’t mean it like that I just. You know.

You, 5:22 P.M ………………….

Johnny Boy, 5:22 P.M digging yourself a hole mark

MARK LEE!!, 5:23 P.M I mean it’s not like I wouldn’t want to be but you’re like my big sib.

You, 5:23 P.M can’t believe mark lee just called me ugly

MARK LEE!!, 5:24 P.M I didn’t say you’re ugly you’re not you’re really pretty I swear

You, 5:24 P.M FORGET IT I’M LEAVING

Coolest Guy, 5:24 P.M TWENTY QUESTIONS ISN’T OVER YOU CAN’T LEAVE TTTTT_TTTTT

You, 5:25 P.M you’re all lucky I like haechan

Coolest Guy, 5:25 P.M :DD

Yoonoh more like…, 5:25 P.M is he a vocal

You, 5:26 P.M …..um. he can sing… but all of you can sing…

Kim Dodumb, 5:26 P.M why are we letting yuta and jaehyun ask questions

You, 5:26 P.M because you’re dumb. Next question

Mountain Man, 5:26 P.M look who’s talking now, dumbfuck

Taeil (aka the c…,, 5:27 P.M what are you guys blowing the group chat up for

You, 5:27 P.M they’re trying to figure out my soulmate. That’s question ten

Kim Dodumb, 5:27 P.M oh my fuck

Winwinnie, 5:27 P.M does he like ice cream????

You, 5:27 P.M yep ^^

Kim Dodumb, 5:28 P.M favorite flavor.

You, 5:28 P.M …that’s too much info. You’d figure it out when I told you what it was.

Kim Dodumb, 5:28 P.M O_O

You, 5:28 P.M still counts as a question

Kim Dodumb, 5:28 P.M you’re ruthless.

Johnny Boy, 5:29 P.M if we figure it out, are you going to talk to them about it?

You, 5:29 P.M nope. I’ll find a new home. In a hole. Far away from him and you guys

Johnny Boy, 5:30 P.M doyoung or taeyong?

You, 5:32 P.M ……………………………………….

Mountain Man, 5:32 P.M WHAT DO YOU MEAN DOYOUNG OR TAEYONG. WHY IS IT BETWEEN THEM

Johnny Boy, 5:33 P.M it’s not haechan, mark, taeil, or you, which leaves winwin, jaehyun, me, doyoung and taeyong

Johnny Boy, 5:33 P.M however, winwin doesn’t have a favorite flavor of ice cream so it’s not him

Johnny Boy, 5:33 P.M …and it’s not me or Jeffrey let’s be real

Johnny Boy, 5:33 P.M thus, taeyong or doyoung

Mountain Man, 5:34 P.M your reasoning is fucking stupid we need more information

Mountain Man, 5:34 P.M Is it winwin?

You, 5:34 P.M no.

Kim Dodumb, 5:35 P.M WE HAVE FIVE QUESTIONS LEFT YUTA STOP ASKING SHIT WHEN JOHNNY WAS CLEARLY RIGHT ABOUT THAT ONE

Mountain Man, 5:35 P.M YOU’RE SOFT FOR JOHNNY FUCK YOU

Coolest Guy, 5:35 P.M is he in 127? is it jaehyun? Is it johnny?

You, 5:35 P.M yes, no, no

Johnny Boy, 5:36 P.M wow how surprising I was right and yuta didn’t believe me

Mountain Man, 5:36 P.M to be fair I’m still shocked that it wasn’t me

Kim Dodumb, 5:36 P.M I can’t believe we just let haechan waste three questions

Johnny Boy, 5:37 P.M we narrowed it down though so let’s consider these last two questions carefully

TY Track, 5:37 P.M where is your mark?

You, 5:37 P.M …somewhere on my body…

Mountain Man, 5:38 P.M someone go take taeyong’s phone away before he ruins this for us and we have to guess forever if it’s between him or doyoung

Taeil (aka the c…,, 5:40 P.M he’s in the bathroom. Locked himself in there again

Mountain Man, 5:40 P.M We’re FUCKED.

Johnny Boy, 5:40 P.M to be fair that was a good question though

Winwinnie, 5:41 P.M we should get ice cream to celebrate finding out who it is

Johnny Boy, 5:41 P.M when we find out

TY Track, 5:42 P.M any of you guys seen Y/N without their shirt on?

You, 5:42 P.M nope. Final question. Sorry guys you suck at guessing

Mountain Man, 5:43 P.M THAT QUESTION WASN’T EVEN FOR YOU

You, 5:43 P.M WELL I ANSWERED IT ANYWAYS. 20 QUESTIONS IS OVER I’M GOING TO CLASS NOW

Taeil (aka the a…,, 5:44 P.M have fun ^^

Mountain Man, 5:44 P.M guys I don’t trust that. y/n is going to run away

TY Track, 5:45 P.M I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen

Yoonoh more like…, 5:45 P.M my phone shut off and I come back to hyung promising to kill y/n what the heck

You, 5:46 P.M If I see any of you on campus I’m going to tell your manager what you did three weeks ago

Coolest Guy, 5:46 P.M y/n is so cool *o*

MARK LEE!!, 5:47 P.M what happened three weeks ago??

Johnny Boy, 5:47 P.M Nothing nothing don’t worry about it mark

Mountain Man, 5:48 P.M yeah don’t worry about it it’s not even that bad

Yoonoh more like…, 5:48 P.M that bad

Taeil (aka the a…,, 5:49 P.M didn’t you guys end up flipping a car

Johnny Boy, 5:49 P.M what part about nothing don’t you guys understand

TY Track, 5:50 P.M we didn’t flip a car

Winwinnie, 5:50 P.M we flipped two cars

Mountain Man, 5:51 P.M at least they were just crash cars anyways

TY Track, 5:51 P.M we still had to pay money for them

Coolest Guy, 5:52 P.M you flipped cars without me????? TT_TT

MARK LEE!!, 5:52 P.M you guys do all the cool stuff without me and donghyuck TT_TT

-

You, 8:07 P.M WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT BEING ON CAMPUS GUYS

Yoonoh more like…, 8:07 P.M which one of us went?

TY Track, 8:08 P.M Mark and haechan are with me and taeil is reading on his bed

Johnny Boy, 8:08 P.M winwin is helping me with Chinese

Yoonoh more like…, 8:09 P.M Yuta is attempting cooking again

TY Track, 8:09 P.M are you stopping him????

Yoonoh more like…, 8:09 P.M I want to see if he can light the kitchen on fire again

Johnny Boy, 8:09 P.M …doyoung went?

TY Track, 8:10 P.M JAEHYUN DO NOT LET HIM COOK YOU KNOW HOW HE GETS

Yoonoh more like…, 8:10 P.M too late.

TY Track, 8:10 P.M why do I smell smoke THERE BETTER NOT BE A FIRE.

Kim Dodumb, 8:11 P.M you guys should call a… firetruck. ;)

Johnny Boy, 8:11 P.M are you with y/n??

TY Track, 8:11 P.M THIS IS NO TIME FOR JOKES YOU DUMB BUNNY

Kim Dodumb, 8:12 P.M there’s a fire extinguisher in the hallway just use that

Kim Dodumb, 8:12 P.M yes, johnny, I’m with Y/N

Johnny Boy, 8:12 P.M …text me now

-

Kim Dodumb, 12:03 A.M This is the third oven this month. Why aren’t we banning yuta from the kitchen?

TY Track, 12:03 A.M better question is, where are you?? It’s midnight you’re supposed to be home

Kim Dodumb, 12:04 A.M …places.

You, 12:05 A.M he’s with me taeyong. He’s safe

TY Track, 12:05 A.M with you??????

Johnny Boy, 12:06 A.M oh right I forgot to tell you taeyong. Doyoung is with y/n

MARK LEE!!, 12:06 A.M should they be together right now? We have a fansign early and those two never stop talking with each other

MARK LEE!!, 12:06 A.M they’ll be up all night

TY Track, 12:07 A.M shouldn’t you be asleep mark lee it’s midnight you had curfew two hours ago

Coolest Guy, 12:07 A.M when do we ACTUALLY go to sleep at ten, hyung?

You, 12:08 A.M haechan go to sleep. You too Mark

Coolest Guy, 12:08 A.M Okay goodnight y/n zzzzzzz

MARK LEE!!, 12:08 A.M goodnight zz

TY Track, 12:08 A.M …how do you do that every time

You, 12:09 A.M It’s a secret.

You, 12:10 A.M doyoung will be back soon, taeyong. I’ll have him back an hour before he has to get ready. Promise.

Kim Dodumb, 12:10 A.M in the meantime we have stuff to do

Yoonoh more like…, 12:10 A.M don’t stay up too late doing… stuff ;))))

Johnny Boy, 12:11 A.M ;)))))

Mountain Man, 12:11 A.M ;)))))

Taeil (aka the c…,, 12:11 A.M ;))))))

You, 12:11 A.M you’re all blocked.

-

Mountain Man, 6:03 A.M I can’t believe y/n thinks doyoung is more handsome than me

TY Track, 6:03 A.M he is

Johnny Boy, 6:03 A.M definitely

You, 6:03 A.M most definitely

Mountain Man, 6:04 A.M I’m going back to japan

TY Track, 6:04 A.M wait how did doyoung figure out it wasn’t me and him instead??

Doyoung :), 6:04 A.M your mark is at your ankle. I’ve seen y/n without shoes

You, 6:04 A.M He took a 50/50 shot hoping it was him

Doyoung :), 6:05 A.M I’m breaking up with you

Yoonoh more like…, 6:05 A.M wrecked lol

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct texts #kim doyoung scenarios #kim doyoung imagines #sheep texts