#i am going to plaster these pictures all over my walls

[ediewentmissing]

some of my eddie munson headcanons

1. loves liquorice.

i know a lot of you guys probably HATE liquorice, but something about him screams ‘i am a liquorice lover and proud of it!!’. and he doesn’t like the strawberry kind.

2. races to press the button in the elevator

“MOVE OUT OF THE WAY, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” “EDDIE, IT’S MY TURN!”

3. was rlly short before he hit puberty

eddie has obviously been subjected to a hell of a lot of bullying over the years, and just to add to that pile of angst, we have the idea of short eddie. gareth went through the same thing, except he didn’t grow as much. “how’s the weather down there, munson?” “fuck off, tommy.”

4. he’s either really hot or really cold

he’s wearing 3 layers half the time, and as little clothing as he can the other half. freezes during winter and sweats his ass off during the summer.

5. gets sensitive teeth

this is because he’s made himself eat a basket worth of lemons just to brag about it later on multiple occasions

6. enjoys watching b movies

those shitty low budget films? oh, yeah. eddie loves them. for one reason; he cackles the whole time over how crap they are. a great pick-me-up.

7. chews on things when he spaces out

the inside of his cheek, his lip, a pencil, and you can’t forget that one time he chewed on a pen for so long that all the ink spilled into his mouth and he was gagging in the middle of class

8. had a major crush on princess daphne from dragon’s lair

definitely fought over her with his friends. he was incredibly jealous of dirk the daring.

9. doesn’t like trying new foods

he’s attached to foods from when he was a kid (macaroni and cheese, cereal, mini pizzas, grilled cheese, and dishes from his mum) and refuses to branch out - unless you ask him to

10. swears he only listens to metal, but doesn’t

he wants to keep his ‘scary ‘music’ reputation, but it’s hard to do that when robin finds eddie’s abba and wham! tapes tucked away in his room

“i thought you were a, and i quote, ‘strictly metal-only’ guy, but i guess you were just a big pop fan this whole time” “quit it, robin”

he also doesn’t mind the country music wayne forced onto him when he was younger

11. twirls the phone cord around his finger

when he’s talking to you over the phone, you swear you can picture him clear as day; big sly grin plastered on his face, and his ringed finger wiring around the phone cord connected to the wall

12. graffitis

but only in the school bathroom cubicles and the hideout bathroom cubicles. occasionally you’ll go to one of his gigs, and then you’ll go to the toilet and there’ll be little drawings on the wall. a guitar, eddie the head, and the occasional shameless penis

13. used to ride bikes everywhere

USED to because he fell over while riding it when he was 9 and scraped his knee and declared he would never ride a bicycle again (thought that declaration broke in 1986)

14. loves roller coasters

specifically ones that take pictures of you - he loves to act all calm and collected while everyone else is screaming their heads off

“eddie, this is a terrible photo” “no, it’s a terrible photo of YOU. you look like you’ve shit yourself, and i look cool as ice”

15. thought babies hatched out of eggs

safe to say that when he learnt how babies are REALLY made, he was flabbergasted and very, very grossed out

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie smut #stranger things headcanons #eddie headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #headcanon

[rubberonmyduck]

Lust's Sexiest Couple (Part II)

[Prologue] [I] [II] [III] AO3 Link

Weakened angelic powers and one mishap with a rogue exorcist later, Lucifer is injured. As the looming threat of war with Heaven hangs above his head, and the delay of getting a healing spell from Stolas, Lucifer is forced to make a decision. New to the Pride Ring, you land yourself a job at I.M.P.-- the Immediate Murder Professionals. Desperate to make some money during a client-low, Blitz agrees to contract out a bodyguard for Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell. The catch? You're the one Blitz picks for the job.

Perhaps you should complain. At this point you were convinced Lucifer was being paranoid. You were diligent in your work, checking your side every time you passed an alleyway, and glancing behind yourself every so often. There wasn’t a single soul on the walk.

“The sex club?”

The two of you came to a stop in front of Ozzie’s, Asmodeus's infamous nightclub. The building was decorated in pinks and purples on the outside, the walls having tall windows that were too fogged over to see into. The entrance had heart-like decor, and was blocked by a stern-looking hellhound. Right next to the hellhound was a line of imps, succubus, and hounds waiting to get into the nightclub.

“I wasn’t very fond of the idea either.”

You slipped your pistol back into your bag, following Lucifer as he got in line with the others. You figured it was probably a bad idea to open carry in a whore house. 

“Name?” The security guard seemed bored, staring down at his clipboard and not sparing a single glance at the King of Hell when you two made it to the front.”

“Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar,”

The hellhound glanced up, giving no reaction to the sight in front of him. 

“Do you have a date?”

Lucifer was taken aback, stuttering as he responded. “What– no, no no. No. I’m here for Asmodeus? To have a meeting?”

The guy’s expression did not change, as if he didn’t care for a word Lucifer said unless it was some form of yes, I have a date.

Lucifer pinched the skin between his eyes. Way to shoot down a divorced man’s confidence, he thought. Without warning, he wrapped a hand around your arm, lifting it slightly to show you off to the bouncer. 

“This is my date. Can I go in now?” 

You felt your face warm up at the words, a dark crimson spreading across your cheeks. Your thoughts were scattered now, and you barely registered him looping his arm around yours, his hand now firmly placed against your wrist, almost as if he were debating holding your hand to sell the ruse. 

The bounder stepped aside for you two, a smirk plastered on his face. As the two of you walked into the establishment, you heard Lucifer muttering something under his breath. 

“I am so firing that hound.”

“Can you even do that?” you almost snorted at the thought, attempting to distract yourself from the burning touch of Lucifer’s hand against your skin. The queasiness was coming back, too. 

“Just because you’re my date, doesn’t mean you get to question me!” 

“Surely I have some say in the matter–” 

The two of you passed the last set of curtains, presenting the club’s interior. There were tables and heart-shaped chairs scattered all about, various creatures at every spot, some drinking, some talking, and some clearly on a romantic getaway. At one corner of the building was a bar. There was a big stage against one of the walls, as well. Your eyes widened at the sights. 

Lucifer noticed your awestruck look. “Have you been here before?” he questioned, releasing his grip from your arm.

As fast as it came, the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach went away. Perhaps you needed to take some pain relievers. “I’ve only ever seen pictures. It looks more grand in person.”

Lucifer nodded at this. Before you knew it, the man was quickly making his way through the big room, his eyes scanning the floor for Asmodeus. You had to speed-walk a bit to catch up to his abrupt start, but eventually the two of you were side by side.

“Do you see Asmodeus?” Lucifer leaned over towards you, his mouth close to your ear to counteract the effects of the loud music playing around the two of you. You gulped, your face slowly heating up at the mere closeness you two had. Lord have mercy you get sick the first day on the job, you thought. Must be something in the air.

“I do not,” you replied, your voice wavering. You glanced around the room again. “Maybe one of his employees knows? Or–”

Your voice cut off as your eyes landed on one of the tables in front of you. It was a two person table, a pair of imps sitting together. At a glance it wouldn't be unusual, but upon closer inspection , you realized the two imps were your coworkers, Moxxie and Millie.

Lucifer seemed to notice them two, his eyes following your gaze the moment you stopped speaking.

“Aren’t those your coworkers?” He asked. His voice was full of boredom – he didn’t particularly care if your coworkers were there, he just wanted to know why his bodyguard was suddenly M.I.A.

You gave him a nod in return. With all your preparation for the little trip with Lucifer, you forgot about the conversation you had with Moxxie the other night. Apparently he was taking Millie to Ozzie’s for their anniversary. He didn’t tell you when and apparently the when happened to be the same night as Lucifer’s meeting. There was little reason to bother the two on their little anniversary date, so you decided to keep up with the business you had with Lucifer, motioning for him to follow you as you walked off to the side. 

“I think if we sat for a bit, Asmodeus might come out from wherever he is.” You declared, stopping short of a table near one of the walls. You pulled out a seat for Lucifer. 

“As long as you’re okay with it?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Fine by me, uh,” He took a seat in the chair. The man audibly sighed as he looked over to the stage. “He better not be long though,”

As if on cue, the moment you took your own seat across from him the overhead lights dimmed out, letting the stage be illuminated by pink neon lights as dancers were lowered down on different platforms. An equally pink mist started to fill part of the room as a robotic voice started speaking to the crowd. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I see some sexy faces around here tonight!”

You lost your focus on Lucifer as the two of you looked to see one of the dancers take a step onto the larger stage. His body seemed to match his voice, a jumble of electronic arms and legs moving the man around with ease. You could tell it was far from a robot though, its face and tail displaying likeness to an imp. Part of you wondered what happened to the imp, but it wasn’t your place to speculate.  

“Welcome, welcome to Ozzies, Lust Ring’s number one place for all kinds of sick, twisted fantasies.” 

“That's his assistant, Fizzarolli.” You looked over to Lucifer, Fizzarolli’s voice drowning out into the background. 

“I remember it now– the two of them put on a little show or something at the beginning of the night,” Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck, a look of guilt spreading across his face. “I figured we’d arrive after that. I guess we made it just on time.” 

Lucifer looked down at the menus set on the table before glancing up at you. “If you want a drink, I can cover it.”

“Nonsense,” you replied, quickly adding on when Lucifer gave you a confused look. “I don’t drink on the job.”

He simply nodded. 

“Without wasting anymore time, our little opening act is a fresh one coming at us from a little imp from the Wrath Ring, give it up for Moxxie!”

As your sights were set back onto the stage, you cringed at hearing your workers name. Moxxie had mentioned he prepared a song to sing for Millie tonight, but the poor little imp was hoping he wasn’t going to be the opening act. In the end, you opted to tune out the music number they had on the stage.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by a hand placed gently on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw Lucifer there, a grin plastered across his face.

“Finally one of the employees recognized me. They have a room in the back we can wait in. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

You nodded, getting up from your chair and following Lucifer as one of the employees guided the two of you to the back. The last thing you saw before going behind a set of curtains was Moxxie and Millie on one of the high-rise stages. You smiled at the sight. Millie was so going to gush about this next time you saw each other.

“Lucifer! My old pal, glad you could make it.” 

Asmodeus, the Sin of Lust, entered the room, his attire a more casual one than the outfit he wore on stage earlier. Trailing behind him was Fizzarolli, who was holding an ice pack to his face. Despite the weathered down state, he seemed as happy as Asmodeus was to see Lucifer.

Lucifer quickly stood up from the couch he was resting on, walking over to give his friend a quick handshake.

“It’s been a long time,” Lucifer replied, a sheepish grin adorning his face.

“Indeed it has. Unfortunately it couldn’t be under better circumstances.” Asmodeus took his eyes off Lucifer, looking around the oh-so-familiar room. His eyes landed on you. You were sitting on a different couch than the one Lucifer was, your pose a bit closed in as the other Sin looked down at you. If Lucifer’s height was taunting, Asmodeus was purely terrifying. 

“Who’s your little friend?” He inquired, walking over to stand a few feet in front of you. Asmodeus leaned down to get a better look at your features. 

“His date, obviously!” Fizzarolli cut in, snagging the open space next to you. He slung an arm across your shoulder, holding you tightly against him as he pulled you in for a side hug. “At least, that's what the last bouncer on shift was saying.” 

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, straightening himself to give a mudge against Lucifer’s shoulder. “I see you’re finally moving onto new things, Luci!” 

A blush spread across Lucifer’s face. “He wouldn’t let me in otherwise!” Lucifer protested, throwing his hands up slightly to defend himself. A bit of red spread across your face too, something Fizzarolli picked up on but didn’t comment. 

Asmodeus rested a hand against Lucifer’s shoulder, giving it a slight tease. “We’re just messing with you, friend,” 

Asmodeus retracted his hand, holding it out towards you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Lucifer mentioned he was bringing along a bodyguard.” A grimace appeared on his face, before disappearing a second later. You shook Asmodeus’s hand.

“I hope you understand, but I can’t really have anyone else listening to this meeting,” Asmodeus started, folding his hands across his chest. “Secret Sin stuff and all that. I elected Fizzarolli there to keep you company. I assure you Lucifer is safe in my hands.” 

 You nodded at that, glancing over at Fizzarolli– who seemed to be extremely excited about this situation– before smiling at the two sins. Lucifer gave you a grin and a thumbs up back, following the Sin of Lust out of the room and presumably to some office. 

 The room was silent now. You figured Fizzarolli would try and talk to you, considering the excitement on his face from the moment his eyes landed on you, but there was nothing. Mildly concerned, you looked to your side, and was greeted with the view of Fizzarolli staring back at you. Grinning. 

“You like him.” Despite the rough voice he held, the words came out smoothly and almost teasingly. 

“Wha– what?” You stuttered, your eyes widening at the absurdity. Fizzarolli’s mouth turned to a smirk as he leaned closer to you. Your tail wrapped around your waist in defense. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, babe, its obvious!” Fizzarolli springs up from his seat, standing in front of you. He clasped his hands together.

“Lucifer’s bodyguard! This is just like one of the fan novels I’ve read!” Fizzarolli did a little happy spin, before leaning towards you, grabbing onto your arm much like Lucifer did earlier in the night. “This is my date,” Fizzarolli mocks, fanning his fake blush with his free hand. You yanked your arm out of his grasp, standing up and backing away slightly. Fizzarolli was quicker than you thought. He slung his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you close to his body. 

“You can’t deny it, little one! I saw that blush on your face,” You reached up to your face, placing a hand on your cheek. “I may be the embodiment of lust’s assistance, but I know a few things about love.”

“You– You’re– You’re ridiculous!” You sputtered out, shaking yourself out of his grip again. A blush spread across your cheeks, the implications of his words finally hitting you. “He’s just– I’m just–”

“A king? And an imp? Look, I can work with a forbidden love story too,” Fizzarolli starts, resting his hands on his hips. You were grateful he was done butting into his space.

“I– no. No, no, no, no. I don’t know what kind of idea you’re getting, but it’s wrong.” 

Fizzarolli’s gaze softens. He realizes he might have come off a bit too strong, and decides to sit back down on the couch, patting the spot next to him with a sheepish smile. When you didn’t accept the offer, he sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” he stated, folding his hands across his lap. “I thought–” Fizzarolli shook his head. 

“It doesn’t matter what I thought– You aren’t crushing on Lucifer.” Fizzarolli raised an eyebrow when you shook your head. “Really? No offense, but you look like how I– you look like you do. Your eyes were almost always on Lucifer when we were talking to you, and,” He pointed down to your tail, which was now resting on the floor only slightly in defense. “Your tail wagged every time he looked at you.” 

“It did!?” You squealed, kneeling down to grip tightly at your tail. What a traitor. 

“What do you feel whenever you look at Lucifer?” Fizzarolli questioned, leaning his head on his fist. “Horny? Smitten? Ooh, do you get butterflies?”

You pursed your lips. “Sometimes I feel a little queasy–”

Fizzarolli grinned. He left his spot on the couch and kneeled in front of you, resting one of his hands on your shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me!”

Fizzarolli proceeded to tease you for the next half hour following that conversation, which you vehemently denied any type of feeling besides business when it came to Lucifer. ‘He’s my boss, I barely know him!’ you would argue, which Fizzarolli would bring up how quickly that could change. All in all, most of those objections turned into Fizzarolli talking about sex, and in the end Fizzarolli gave you his phone number, making you promise to text him when you finally come to your senses. Now you were at Lucifer's side once again, walking back down the streets of Lust as he rambled on about the plans for the next two days. 

“We’ll stay at Le Trou for the night, and we can pick up the package from Asmodeus tonight.” Lucifer slows to a stop, before turning to look at you, anticipating your reaction.

“That sounds good, Your Majesty.” Lucifer cringed at your words.

You looked behind Lucifer briefly, and were met with a shadowy figure.

“You know–”

“Get down!” You cut Lucifer off, shoving his shoulders to get him low on the ground with you. Just as the two did, a loud popping noise filled the air. You were quick to react, pulling out your tiny pistol from your belt, aiming it at the source of the noise. You pulled the trigger. The figure fell down to the ground, a loud grunt and whine coming from it. Their own gun flung from their grasp, skidding across the sidewalk and onto the streetway. Once you were sure the other man was disarmed, you helped Lucifer up to his knees. 

“Are you okay, sir!” You frantically tried brushing the dust off his suit. Without a word, Lucifer reached up to grab your hands with his own, stopping you with your fussing. Your eyes widened, staring at him. 

“Thank you,” his voice was filled with awe as he stared back at you, the grip on your hands tightening. It was this moment you finally got a good look at the man. Under the deep blue light of the Lust Ring, complemented with the purple streetlamps overhead the two of you, Lucifer’s skin seemed to adopt a purplish color, the blonde of his hair looking almost blue in the shadows. The yellow glowing of his angelic eyes was soft on his face, but his eyes were a darker red than usual, unable to combat the blue light. Behind Lucifer, his wings were puffed out in defense, a few of them wrapped tightly in bandages. You started to realize how close the two of you are, his breath warm against your cheek. You could almost hear your own heart trying to beat out of your chest.

You shook yourself out of your daze, feeling heat creep up your face. 

“Anytime, sir.” 

Lucifer let go of your hands, pushing off the ground to a standing position. He held his hand out to you.

 “You can just call me Lucifer,”

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #immediate bodyguard professionals

[dxckgrxsonx]

saw this post once (i genuinely have NO idea whose post it was and i wish i could credit it but i can't remember for the life of me) that said that jay is the typa guy to grab your phone from you when you get sent an unsolicited dick pic and send one back, thus completely humiliating the owner of the other picture. just... can't stop thinking about it... help...

Oh…oh, my head is suddenly empty, no thoughts only this,

**

“You’re not paying attention to me.” Jason whines, soft fingers tugging insistently at your sleeve. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand and theres a quick flare of something fond and affectionate at the action. “I’m your best friend, you’re supposed to lavish me with attention and laugh at my jokes.”

You think he’s sweet when he’s needy and your mouth waters with the taste of sugar when Jason plasters himself to your back, arms thrown over your shoulders to tug you in close.

“If you don’t give me attention, I’m getting you a mug saying ‘worlds worst friend’.” Jason threatens, chin resting on your shoulder. “Are you even listening to me?”

The message notification flashes up on your phone screen whilst you’re in the middle of jabbing your finger on little cross in the top corner of the screen to get rid of a pop up add.

It opens up a picture message from the guy you went on one date with a few days ago and you recoil in shock, the back of your head nearly smashing Jason in the face.

Behind you, Jason goes deathly still, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yup.” You confirm.

Swooping in with the grace of a seagull scrounging for food, Jason yanks your phone out of your hand and takes off in a sprint through your apartment.

“Jay! What the fuck are you doing?” You exclaim, kicking yourself into a run to try and catch him. You’re not quick enough and Jason launches himself into your bathroom and locks the door. “Please tell me you’re not jerking off to that.”

A shout of horror echoes through the door and you cackle.

“Uh excuse me, my spank bank consists of only the finest photos and videos. None of which, contain whatever the fuck this is.”

Resting your shoulder on the wall beside the door you wait impatiently for him to come out of the bathroom.

“You best not be going through my nudes.” You say, mouth tipped up in a grin. “Those are for a select audience only.”

Jason swears loudly and grumbles out your name, “You really at the worst friend in the world. We’re supposed to share everything and I find out you’re withholding sexy pictures from me? For shame.”

Rolling your eyes Jason unlocks the door after a few minutes and hands your phone back. There’s a soft flush to his cheeks but he gives you a wolffish grin when you unlock your phone and stare, mouth agape at his response to the message.

“Why am I looking at your dick?” You point out, struggling to resist the urge to save the photo to your own spank bank. “Why am i so turned on all of a sudden?”

“Gotta show him what a real dick looks like.” Jason shrugs, like he hasn’t just ruined your entire sex life with one photo. “And what can I say, I’m gifted. Now…you’ve seen a naughty pic of me, how about you show me one of yours?”

**

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader drabble #jason todd x you drabble #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #ella writes #asks #answered #anonymous

[hxltic]

can you do capt price with an s/o who used to have braces (the reader has glasses) and proce found this out cause like he was going through all photo albums and stumbled upon readers old pics when the reader was like in middle school (OH AND ALSO IMAGINE THE READER BEING A METALHEAD IN MIDDLE SCHOOL AND UNTIL NOW AND PRICE IS JUST SO SUPRISED HAHAHAH)

I am so sleepy so this may be bad or short but i find this hilarious

One of the reasons Price loved you was because you were absolutely gorgeous. Your hair complimented your eyes, and the jewelry you wore sat glistening on your skin. Your figure gave him something to grab onto, all his favorite parts of your body on display when you wore those tight fitting dresses for the summer.

When you brought the man home to your parent’s house, you’d expected him to be downstairs helping out for dinner despite how much you tell him to rest. It’s the sweet, traditional side of him.

Not in your childhood room, silently looking through things that aren’t technically hidden, so you can’t get upset with him for noticing.

And it wasn’t the records plastered on your wall with a protective glass over them, or the stickers permanently stuck to the sides of your mirror—it was the pictures. All in relatively small frames that didn’t have the best quality, but good quality enough for him to see the worst of you. You stroll out the bathroom and close the door to the man holding one and chuckling to himself. His brow was turned up in amusement.

“Put. That. Down.”

He turns to you with the frame still in hand, his face never wavering even though you looked like you were about to combust with embarrassment. Cheeks red, eyes blown wide darting anywhere else but him, and hands coming up to cover your face.

The worst part was, you knew exactly which picture he was holding. It was you and two other girls, one of which you don’t speak to anymore. Anyway, your teeth were dark with black braces to match the atrocious personality you’d invented for yourself at the time, and your haircut was one you try your best to forget about. You really wish you would’ve thrown that away.

It doesn’t help your features look the exact same.

The only difference was you were wearing your prescription glasses, the ones you brought into adulthood, but they were somewhere tucked in a drawer as your contacts held their spot.

“Why? You look adorable.” He teases. You looked far from that. You were a menace.

His perfectly sculpted beard moves as he tips his head back in laughter, genuinely taken aback by young you. You somehow are still the same, just more tolerable, with a snappy attitude on top but a lovey dovey mess underneath.

“Oh my god.” You wanted to roll yourself up in a ditch and never escape. The only reason you kept that picture was because the other girl has the same one. The date was written on the back in marker, but you didn’t have to look to know it was during your darkest days.

You finally calm yourself and blink up to your spouse, who seemed to be in thought. His mouth opened to ask, then it closed, and it took everything in you to pretend you didn’t see it. You just knew it would be something else by the taunting half-smile on his face.

Instead, you asked him what he was about to say. You shouldn’t have.

“I searched up the band on the wall. They still around?” He asked.

And while the question seemed purely genuine, you did not take it as such. One side of you wanted to tell him, “No, they stopped making music a while ago,” and the other half is saying, “Kill me now.”

Now he knows you used to listen to metal, but not just the regular kind; the barely coherent, head-bopping, voice-ripping kind. If the man wasn’t older, and this was Gaz, he wouldn’t have hesitated to call you emo.

“No,” you mustered up. You tried your best to not return to the previous state of embarrassment, but knowing your husband, he’d now look into it and try to get you printed shirts for your birthday and whatnot.

He didn’t openly tell you how weird or concerning it was, but this was worse. When someone won’t tell you something directly, but you just know what they’re thinking anyway.

“I didn’t think a pretty lady like you would listen to that.”

. .

The entire way to the dinner table he was on and off laughing. It even got the point he had to temporarily excuse himself, just somehow unable to rid the image from his mind. Even though that’s far from what he wanted.

This late in the relationship and your mother still has horror stories to tell.

#cod mwf2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty #john price #captain price #cod price #price x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price x female reader #captain price cod #captain price x y/n #price mw2

[bipbopdepmop]

short boatem summer fic

based on this post -> (link) by @applestruda

Picture this: 

It is the hottest day of the year. The sun beats down relentlessly upon any poor sap that gets caught out in it. The heat can only be described as ‘being hit in the face with a sack full of bricks that have somehow been set on fire.'

We see the Boatem crew going about various activities as the very same sun spills into an overly warm room onto well-worn floorboards. The room is small and neat. There is a crooked green carpet on the floor and pictures on the wall of five laughing people. It is a room that has seen lots of love. 

A fan whirs steadily in the background. Impulse turns the page of his book, letting out a long sigh. Mumbo waters his plants, mumbling to himself and occasionally making a noise that is either pleased or disgruntled as he inspects his plants. So far, he has said “Ah!” in a pleased way fourteen times and “oh!” in a displeased way twelve times. Scar began counting an indeterminate amount of time ago out of sheer boredom. He’s been sitting in front of the fan for what feels like forever. It’s only been five minutes. Jellie meows. Impulse turns another page. Time drips by like honey. Every heat-filled second seems to take an hour to pass. 

Footsteps. Enter Grian, bright wings flashing at the edge of Scar’s vision. He would look over, call out a greeting but that would mean exposing his face to the heat. Grian is not worth braving the heat, he decides.

“I am never going to move again,” Grian complains. “I am just going to lay here and melt.”

“That seems like a good plan,” Impulse agrees with a small chuckle from the only shady corner in the room. A foot prods Scar’s side. 

Poke. “Scar, move over.” Another, more insistent poke. 

He turns his head, just a little. The right side of his face is now uncomfortably warm, exposed to the Void-forsaken heat. Grian really does look terrible, hair plastered to his forehead, face red and sunburnt and ear-feathers limp. 

“I was here first!” Scar says, a bit indignant. First dibs, right? “Go get your own fan. There’s one somewhere around here.” He ducks a little, but not enough to avoid the wing that whacks him in the head.

“Ow!” he says halfheartedly, turning his head to face Impulse. Ah, sweet, sweet relief for the right side of his face, not so much for his left. “Impulse, Grian hit me!” 

“Grian did nothing of the sort,” Grian interjects, tone bright and innocent-sounding. Another wing whacks Scar again. “Scar’s the one hogging the fan.”

With a long suffering sigh, Impulse looks up from his book. The glare that Scar receives is just short of withering. Got it. Don’t interrupt Impulse. Scar yelps as he is rudely pushed over onto the floor and into the sun. The floor burns to the touch. His poor, poor, super muscle-y arms. Betrayal! Blood! Trauma! Death! He will never forgive Grian for this. He will pay. 

A thump. Grian’s sigh of sheer relief is almost pathetic. Sure enough, Grian’s face is now inches from the fan, eyes closed in pure joy. Scar groans dramatically. 

“Grian, how could you? My very own brother-in-arms!” 

Grian scoffs. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Me?” Scar gasps. “I would never.”

“Oh you absolutely would,” Mumbo says with a snort. 

“Fine, fine! I see how it is around here. No love for good ol’ Scar! C’mon Jellie, we can go join the Big Eyes Crew. I bet they have a fan. I bet their fan is bigger than ours. After all, Bdubs’ smile is the biggest there is. He’s probably got the biggest fan too.” Impulse snorts and turns the page. Grian’s wings rustle. Mumbo makes his fifteenth “Ah!” His plants must be doing well.

Scar sighs, pulling himself into an upright position and drapes himself over Grian’s shoulders. “See, this way we can share the fan!” 

“Scar,” Grian whines, dragging his name out exasperatedly. “You’re too warm! Go away.” 

“Come on Grian, you can say it,” he teases, smiling. “I’m too hot. I’m too hot for you.”

Scar grunts as Grian elbows him in the side, throwing him off his shoulders. Huffing, he leans against Grian’s back instead. If he can’t get the fan, a nice backrest will do. Even if that backrest has really, really pokey bony wings that dig into his back. Maybe he’ll take a nap and when he wakes up, it’ll all be over. He closes his eyes.

After what barely seems like ten minutes, he hears Pearl say “What’s all this? You guys look absolutely pathetic.” Cracking his eyes open a little and turning his head to face her, he sees her in all her moth-y glory, standing over them. She has a shopping bag in one hand. Slowly, she reaches in and pulls out-

A freezer pop.

Scar might cry. He’s never seen such a beautiful sight. He might pick Pearl up and twirl her around in joy if it weren’t so dang-blasted hot.

---

#hermitcraft #boatem #grian #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft fic #mumbo jumbo #hope its ok #never written boatem before #anyways i saw the art and just had to write a little silly thing about it #hopefully its not too stiff or weird or ooc idk #just realised impulse does not. say anything #whoops #hope i tagged everything right #i. did not tag everything right #my writing

[victorianpining]

The Game is Now

(Well The Game is over a year ago, if you want to be technical about it)

I finally took the time to write up my notes and reactions to the original BBC Sherlock Escape Room Experience! Sorry in advance if things are a little vague at points, we only played through the room once and am mostly running off of iphone notes I wrote 13 months ago. I hope to be able to go back to try out the new Mind of Moriarty room during its run, if this one was anything to go by, it should be a fun time!

My usual disclaimer that while this is a TJLC slanted writeup, I'm just playing The Game for fun at this point, I really am not expecting any of this to lead anywhere. Enjoy your television responsibly, don't idolize television writers, eat your veggies, etc. etc. etc. And spoilers for the room, obviously.

Oh, and huge thank you to @watermotif @betweendoctorsanddetectives and @647763 (and her girlfriend) for playing the room with me! I had a blast suffering with you all <3

The way I'm getting myself to finally actually write this up is by telling myself it's okay if my thoughts are a little informal, especially after this long, so this is going to be written the way I usually structure my outlines in the format of chaotic bullet points. Hopefully it's still readable!

I'm starting my recap of the experience outside of the escape room itself, which was located in what was, for all intents and purposes, a random, abandoned seeming mall in London (it wasn't actually abandoned malls are just like that now)

So imagine you are just walking through what looks exactly like your local, very dead, mall, when there's just this massive wall with dark damask wall paper and the most DFP Sherlock quotes you can conceive of plastered on it. Think "I may be on the side of the angels but don't think for a second I am one of them" "heroes don't exist and if they did I wouldn't be one of them" "I'm a high functioning sociopath" etc. It's already hilarious

You come around the corner from that and there's the gated off "Doyle's Optometrist" office, where you have to page in (I think we had to state our group name, I can't remember exactly how we got in)

Once you're inside the staff helping you are named Stamford. Yes like Mike Stamford. Yes all of them. If you didn't know you were in for psychological torment, you do now

[brief intermission here because some of us arrived early, so they actually let us through to the Mind Palace bar while we waited. It was pretty cool, apart from the guy working there being really pushy about ordering drinks. The bar is Victorian themed with framed pictures from TAB and the biggest one in the room, like by far, was a framed picture of Sherlock and Moriarty's little gun standoff, so you know, that was fun.]

[here we are trying to be normal about it]

[also I went to the bathroom at this point and there was a little sign in the stall which said that the Sherlock theme song was exactly the right length to wash you hands to which was the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen in my life]

Anyway back to the intended order of the experience, Stamford led us back to the optometrist waiting room where we sat calmly while John Watson's voice read out random advertisements. (The only one of these I wrote down was "the eyes are the legs of the face" because it was so random, but there was a set of them)

Also as you will see in the following picture, the posters in here were Bananas

(In case you can't see it since it's small in dash, the purple one behind Mia says "Doyle's Audiographs: for those who hear but don't listen" very evocative of the "I did tell you but did you listen" motif, 0/10 very infuriating)

Stamford came over at this point and brought us back and gave us the rules, which included no photography so photos end here unfortunately

So we were taken to a projector room where John Watson addressed the players, saying that while it says the office belongs to Doyle, this is actually a front for one of Mycroft's plans (ha ha ha (deadpan)) and that he's coopted John into helping. (hah. do you get it? the author and the narrator? hillarious)

It was so clear that Martin did not want to be there. Like yes John in character also doesn't want to be there but Martin literally looked like he was being held at gunpoint. His eyes were dead. Poor guy.

Stamford led us through another room into the 221B living room! Being in here was surreal. Because there are a few groups lumped together at this point, we had a bit of time to look around the room. Rachel found a book about fetishes on the mantle, which was something.

We took our group picture, they let you pick from a few props. I went for the white queen chess piece for Dracula reasons and got bullied into wearing the deerstalker, which was homophobic.

Also the skull was the Yorick version, and I took a moment to stare into ACD's eyes, out of respect, as one does.

At this point the game proper begins! Sherlock's voice comes on (Ben is not on camera other than one brief exception which we will be coming back to later) and starts prepping us for our mission.

I don't remember the context but I think while telling us to be careful in the flat he told us "don't scrape your knees, or do." which was funny considering "the state of her knees"

Mycroft then addresses the audience (hah) only to be interrupted by Moriarty (hah) hacking the TV (hah hah hah)

The mirror above the fireplace? Also turns into a TV that Moriarty hacks. Ha. Ha ha ha ha.

Moriarty informs us that he has kidnapped Mycroft so the point of the game is to save Mycroft from Moriarty (I was fighting the urge to bash my head against the walls of 221b at this point, like I was expecting M Theory but like Come On you're killing me here)

You may be wondering how exactly Moriarty has kidnapped Mycroft considering he is dead. Great question! You don't get an answer apart from Moriarty saying "remember I am definitely dead" in the most sarcastic voice I have ever heard come out of Andrew Scott's mouth. Full psychological warfare at this point. Having a great time. The usual.

Also at this point, while talking about Mycroft, Moriarty compares him to Sherlock, and he definitely listed off a bunch of things but the part that most stood out was he said verbatim "Mycroft is like Sherlock without the fangirls or sex appeal" so uh. Um. Yeah. M Theory Time!!! All Aboard!!! Choo Choo!!!!

We were taken to the first of our three puzzle rooms: the morgue at St. Bart's. Moriarty is introducing the room and jokingly refers to the brief time he spent dating Molly, lets us know that our goal is to break into the computer system (a development which had me thrilled, you know I love the Moriarty as a Virus angle)

Not one full minute after Moriarty joked about Molly being his cover, Molly voice over talks to John (who by the way has a beard at this point, that I had not mentioned) and goes "nice beard!" Hah. Hah.

To get into the computer we needed to put in a date, I don't remember the context for this puzzle but the answer was 2012, the year of Season 2.

The case in the middle of the room then lights up and you're able to see the corpse. On the computer, a database comes in, and in order to get into the server, we need to fill out a series of questions about the identity of the corpse.

One of the filters is the relationship status of the corpse with three options, single, married m/f, and married m/m. I let out the most exhausted sigh of my entire life and hit married m/m without even looking at the corpse. (we briefly removed it because the room was giving us clues out of order that made us think for a moment that this was wrong, it was not, the corpse is gay, you have to not assume he's straight. Do you get it?) (war and strife on the planet earth)

So the clue for that is that the corpse has the name Stephen tattooed on him (really? of all the names? Stephen????) and you're meant to figure out that he wouldn't get a tattoo of his own name. Or just be so mentally exhausted that you intrinsically know the corpse is going to be gay because of course he is.

If that wasn't enough, the corpse was also a member of the Royal Navy who was left handed. Hi John.

At this point my friends in the room with me pointed me up to the TV in the corner, which was showing random news feed but the ticker tap at the bottom was advertising BBC Dracula, which was fun.

When we were finally getting into the cage the server was in, Moriarty kept ominously chanting "let me in"

Again, don't remember the context, but one of the clues in this room was identifying the heart

We discovered the corpse died of a horrific virus (hah) just as Moriarty hacked into the server thanks to us (once again was genuinely enjoying the code stuff, this is a 10/10 from me, makes fadow better for everyone who has done this silly escape room sdhgakjdsg)

The second room was Mycroft's underground office and our task from Moriarty was to locate where his agents were stationed throughout the world and once again send off his virus. I was giggling.

Flipping around with switches on Mycroft's desk, we found that the mirrors on either side of the room were actually windows! Because of course they were!

Sherlock comes in with a clue at this point and lets us know something to the effect of "Mycroft likes to hide clues in photographs" which was uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... normal.

Those are my only notes for this room and I don't remember literally anything else about it so sorry about that on to....

The final room: The Victorian Operating Theater! Oh boy!!!

Moriarty has been using us to access the genetic code (hah) for a virus (hah) last scene in the Victorian Era (hahahahahahahaa). He literally phrases it as "an old treasure brought into the modern day." Hillarious.

Then the absolute highlight of the experience: there's this giant console thing in the middle of the room that comes to life with all these screens, and on them including Moriarty taunting us and, the absolute 12/10 winner, footage of Sherlock wandering around 221B. This is the only Ben footage you get and not only does it confirm the "Moriarty is always spying on Sherlock" part of M Theory, it's very similar to the wall of monitors I came up with for fadow. Fellow Moriarty fan Mia and I were dying at this as much as we were able to while still trying to solve the room.

Moriarty freed Mycroft but had infected us with the virus (this is why I joke that Moriarty gave me COVID, because I caught it this day and it might as well have been from him)

His plan was to unleash the virus on the world unless we could stop him

This room was more physical puzzles than mental, and we had to cure the brain, the heart, and the lungs respectively. The brain and the heart are obviously big Sherlock meta staples so since then I've been like "why the lungs tho?" My best guess is it has something to do with breathing new life into an old story, but that's just a guess

While we were solving it and making progress Moriarty came on to rant something like "the game was over! You should have known when to give up!" Flames, flames on the side of my face.

When we won, Sherlock insulted us, but Mycroft then came on to compliment our efforts and talents, which was a great way to leave off.

Apparently only 20% of people actually solve the room, and we were in the top 20% of that, all while trying to take in the meta of it all, go League of Furies!!!

Final thoughts: this really was like if watching the show was a thing you could live through in real time. If you've ever wanted to be tormented by Mofftiss in a more visceral way, this room is exactly what you're looking for. Also shoutout to Andrew, who acted his absolute heart out, 15/10 thanks for all the M Theory, it was delicious

Also once again to reiterate, I can't believe James Moriarty gave me COVID, after all I have done for him, rest in pieces except he isn't even dead all the way.

I guess 4 months of not being able to breathe fully was the real lungs meta all along.

Can't wait for the Mind of Moriarty game next though for real, that's gonna be Bonkers, if one of the scenes is a virtual version of the waterfall scene from TAB I think I would combust on the spot

Thanks for reading!!! Sorry this took me forever only to be such a casual writeup in the end, but hopefully this recreation of my mental breakdown in a mall was entertaining.

#rebs blogging #the game is now #tjlc

[keiaoi811]

The peace we share

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

fluff with some suggestions ( i think?)

Just sharing a bath with Jouno who calls your precious flower soap a 'weed' soap- (i mean the things you want to get rid from garden, not drugs- ಥ_ಥ)

I hope you guys gonna like it, sorry for any mistakes (english that is supported by google translator and my small knowledge)

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

A faint smell of flowers was filling your nose, bringing a picture of plains full in bloom at sunny, april day to your mind. Pleasant warmth of water embracing your body like a cozy blanket and bubbles tickles your soft skin.

A gentle smile was plastered to your face and relaxed sigh left your lips, while leaning your back further...

"You are crushing me."

Slightly annoyed voice, coming from behind to your ears, slowly brings you to return to reality, after wandering around the flower patches in your mind.

"I thought, you were enjoying our bath together, Saigiku."

You said, tilting your head slightly to look at the face of white haired man behind you. Even if his voice was stern, trying his best to show 'dissatisfaction', Jouno face was telling a different story. Eyebrows raised up a little, a soft look remains on his features while his hand slowly and gently caressing your bare shoulder in lazy manner.

"Oh, of course i am enjoying, if only my nostrils wasn't be, now terrorised by the 'weeds' soap you poured into water, Dear~"

A small chuckle followed his words, while your elbow nudged into his chest at his remark.

"I would like to remind you, that you were present while buying this soap"

"I was? I don't remember such an event."

His voice was clearly teasing, trying to get under your skin just by a little, enjoying how your heartbeat sounds a little troubled now. Jouno leans his head back, over the bathtub wall, a grin rising on his lips while listening to your sounds.

"Also i didn't poured too much..."

You mumbled quietly, resting your head on his shoulder.

Small drops of water slowly flowing on the skin of his neck. Your eyes was glued at this sight, as the wet trails made by water go through all the curves of Jouno neck to his chest and disappears under the layer of soft foam with bubbles.

This cloudly looking form is blocking you from seeing any more of his light skin and subtle muscles....maybe you really poured too much?

"Did someone getting here some inappropriate thoughts? Hmm?~"

You can feel a gentle pinch on your cheek and a another cocky chuckle, making you jolt your head straight. A rosie colour appears on your, now slightly flustered, face.

"I don't-"

As you wanted to deny, Jouno placed his finger on your lips to stopped your words and he continue. He brings his face closer to yours, having a sly smile attached.

"I told you....many times...that your heartbeat is your biggest traitor~ Revealing all your secrets, without words leaving your lips."

Jouno whispered close to your ear, his voice was leaking with teasing and a tint of flirt. He begins to brushing your bottom lip with his thumb while, the rest of his hand holding you under chin, making sure to have you in place.

Like for his delight, your heart was fluttering faster and louder as the words filled your mind. To put you even more on edge, his other hand moves from your arm, slipping down, under the bubble layer, finding his way to your waist. Jouno fingertips, smoothly caresses the skin, giving you a tingling sensation through your body.

"Something wrong? Did water is too warm and makes your naughty head dizzy? Or the flowery scent is to blame for that?"

He snicker, feeling your lips pressing together under his thumb.

"Can you at least once, don't tease me?"

You mumbled, as your words only shows more signs of embarrassment.

*Splash*

For the revenge, you moves your hand to splash some water to his direction. Enjoying, Jouno's surprised expression when water in flash, hits his face. This was one of the rare moments, very short, but so adorable. Peak up eyebrows, small gap created by his mouth, from usually composed and proud Jouno to 'dumbfounded kitten' who discoveres the world for first time.

A soft hum leaves his lips, after recovering of your 'attack' and mocking grin returns to the proper place. Jouno takes his hand away from your chin and place it on other side of your waist, to accompany the another.

"I just showing my care for you and what i receives in return? A soapy water to my mouth." He said with a little amused tone, holding you tighter to his chest. Jouno lips hovering over yours, a slight brush of his nose makes you giggle as it tickles.

A warm feeling embrace your heart at this intimate moment lingering for few moments longer. Like time just stopped in place and there's nothing beside the two of you, his relaxed breath caressing your face like a morning breeze.

Gently tucking, some stray strands of hair, behind his ear, you gives him a small peck on lips.

A sweet smile appears on Jouno face as he returns the act of affection. There no rush, a slow but tender movements of his lips over yours, bringing butterflies to your stomach. His hands caressing your delicate skin on waist, a content sighs goes between the kisses as the moment getting more passionate.

Your fingertips finds their way to his cheek, slowly wandering to his neck. Every fleetering touch brings a slight shiver through Jouno.

Jouno squeezed your sides, making you gasp at the sudden action. Using the gap, Jouno slide his tongue through your lips and 'dare' yours for a small dance. Hard to resist this sly fox of yours, who always finding a way to melt you in his arms.

Feeling your cheeks rising to more reddish color as the tongues tangled together.

There were one desire - to stay like this, close, sharing the same space, air. A feeling of being safe - beloved one who showers you and only you with a special affection. Jouno softness that only is reserved for you.

After this heated moment, Jouno breaks the kiss, sending to your direction a gentle smile, before nuzzling his face to crook of your neck. Taking a deep inhale of the scent, like a try to engrave it, this fragrance and moment in his mind.

"I taking this overly affection, as you being in total relaxation at this moment.~"

You tried to tease him, just a little bit and Jouno lifted his head to whisper into your ear.

"Maybe i am, but this doesn't changing a fact that the 'weeds' still bothers me."

Jouno chuckles when he hears an irritated sigh coming from you.

"This is not a 'weeds' smell but a flower and herb scent soap. I prefer when your mouth is busy with something, so you wouldn't complain too much."

As you says this words, a small light bulb brighten in Jouno mind.

"Oh?~ You prefer, my mouth being busy? If that so...What about, my dear flower, to made me busy in more dry place?~

His voice was low and suggestive, a smile tainted with mischiev. Your heart skip a beat, taking a note of all his words. Jouno nodded at the reaction before adding.

"So let's leave this water pool, before we both gonna complain about wrinkles fingertips."

A flower scent still lingers, as the memory of colorful plains in april day....sharing a warm smiles with the dearest of your heart...a very peaceful day~

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

Hope not too messy and Jouno not too much ooc (＃°Д°)

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd jouno #jouno saigiku #jouno fluff #jouno saigiku x reader #jouno x reader #jouno x y/n #jouno x you #kapi is writing #once again we are doomed #bsd fanfic #fanfic #jouno x selfinsert

[stormoflina]

Happy New Year's Eve to everyone! 😁🎉🍷

I saw the tiktok boys doing this trend in the international break, and the idea stayed with me, and it's fitting rn anyway. If it's lame I will just blame my friends for giving me bad experiences 😸

Rating how a night-out with lfc players would go (this is for the girlies, do mind that):

Virg: You would feel the most safe and relaxed on a night-out in your whole entire life. Virg would literally scare all unwanted comments and wandering hands just with his aura. He would buy you whisky, trying to be fancy, but by the end of the night you would be on your 4th beer together, doing karaoke. He would leave by like 1 am tho. 9/10

Tsimi: he drinks one vodka-redbull and it's over. And by that I mean it's not really over, quite the opposite actually. Not leaving the club until they literally close. He would be bouncing up the walls, dancing with everyone, chatting up to strangers while waiting for drinks, running around, making new best friends every bathroom break, falling in love at least 3 times just that night. A nice, eventful night, but by the end, you would probably be exhausted. 7/10

Joey: Ngl, you would probably be kinda worried about partying with him, thinking he's a bit dull or the atmosphere will be awkward... Only to be completely wrong and for you to have the best night of your life? He takes shots like a champ, smooth dance moves,a great wingman and has the best drunk advice to your drunk first world problems. He also knows the best place to get kebab place after the club and walks you home. 10/10

Ibou: Go out with him and you will have the time of your life. Takes the best pictures and tags you, likes and comments, just to get the guy you like all hot and bothered. Pretends he doesn't understand English and starts cursing out people in French, just because. Outfit on point. -1 point for making your stomach hurt from laughing too much. 9/10

Robbo: It's either a heartfelt hug and temple kisses while pouring your heart out kind of night or trying to use the street lamps as a strip pole while laughing like the two of you have lost your minds kind of night. Brings his own alcohol for pre gaming, because "it's much better, trust me." He's never a quiet person, both with each drink he has, the volume of his voice just increases. He tries to guess the dick size of random guys who try to chat you up. You will need 2-3 days to recover from this night, but it's all worth it. 10/10

Darwin: Unlike Kostas, Darwin is NOT allowed to drink redbull-vodkas, not under any circumstances. Instead he drinks literally anything else. He especially likes those colourful cocktails. When they start to hit, he picks up the straws and pretends he is a walrus. Who cares about the language barrier, you can communicate just fine by dancing together. Darwin is a really good dancer, alright, all eyes glued to him. Somehow he gets into a fight and gets thrown out. He claims he is innocent, but who actually knows. There are always other clubs! 8/10

Joel: When you ask him out he just glares at you with raised eyebrows. Still, he shows up, with an unimpressed expression glued to his face all night until they start playing Timberland. Suddenly the coconut man is all arms up and legs moving. He leaves randomly before midnight without telling you tho. 5/10

Trent: The night kinda takes a wrong route before it can even start, when he makes a bet about which one of you can take more shots without stopping. Trent wins, his eyes sparkling and a relaxed, loop-sided smile already plastered on his face. He pays for the taxi and is extremely smug about the girls he claims he will get. Tries to make another bet with you on who can pull the most. Ends up sulking after he gets rejected (nevermind that literally everyone else wants a piece of him). He doesn't dance, just stands like a stick, licking his lips and holding his drink. Starts asking horny questions after 2 am. 8.5/10

Macca: Takes forever to pee, because he starts making friends with everyone in the bathrooms. Brings his own personalized maté cup, but God knows what’s inside. Judging by how red-faced he gets as the night goes on, it must be something strong tho. Good dancer, if only he would stop doing googly eyes at people while he promised it was a friends only night… 6/10 

Domi: The pre-gaming might be more fun than the actual party. Takes forever to get ready, because he keeps talking too much, showing you his favourite songs and offering his grandpa’s pálinka. Puts in way too much hair product. By the time you get to the club, both of you are comfortably drunk. Not the best dancer, but enthusiasm makes up for it.  He starts eyefucking random hot people. It gets annoying by 3 am, when you are ready to go home and sleep and he still has way too much energy. 8/10

Jota: Keeps complaining that he didn’t want to go, then drinks everyone under the table. Like it’s actually annoying how unfazed he seems. Takes good care of you, looking after you, bringing you water, but still, when you are tipsy, dizzy and feels like you are going to throw up, you would rather have him shut up about FIFA for a sec. 6.5/10

Ali: Says he will not drink, because he has stuff to do early in the morning, but still comes and has a great time. Funny, kind and polite, and very good looking, which turns out to be a bit of a problem, after people just won’t stop asking him out. Gives you great advice when you start talking about the guy you like. His dancing is cute, but a bit old fashioned. 8/10

#lfc #virgil van dijk #kostas tsimikas #joe gomez #ibrahima konate #andy roberson #darwin nunez #joel matip #trent alexander arnold #dominik szoboszlai #alexis mac allister #diogo jota #alisson becker

[bitchlessdino]

nana, i am freaking out over the chan shirtless pics. don’t get me started on the clips of him working out. i was wondering if you could do some sort of short blurb or whatever on it. it doesn’t have to be smut. anything that will feed into my delusionals. -🎧

p.s. loved that seungcheol piece and sorry i haven’t sent stuff in awhile.

A/n: ofc bb, also I’m still working on that other request you sent in so be patient but for now. Also I’m glad you loved the cheol piece 💗

You teased Chan about working out the first time, saying the muscles would only emphasize his height and look bulky and foreign on him. You didn’t know how hard you’d be eating your words.

He had been going to gym for some time, paid for the membership and everything for months. That’s eventually wasn’t enough, he bought some equipment for his place to have a home gym. Not much: a treadmill, a pull up bar, and a bench press and it was all worth. Of course, there’d be times you’d come home to your shared apartment, hearing your roommate grunting loudly, obviously for reasons other than sex but then you paid no mind to it.

It was when you interrupted one of his sessions, wondering where he misplaced dish soap, only to stumble upon Chan doing routine leg lifts. His firm, swollen calves pushing his lower body up in the air, clenching his abdomen and flexing the sculpted shaped of his body. It felt like the room was spinning but him, your vision laser focused on every individual squeezing muscles, hard swallowing the drool forming in your mouth, and words not even get out of your mouth.

Chan, hearing you arrive, asks what you need, not bothering to stop what he’s doing, and all of a sudden your throat sucks dry. Letters jumbling in your head but nothing comprehensive forms. You just end up standing there looking dumbfounded and it urges Chan to stop what he’s doing finally and turn back to you in concern, heaving his chest, contracting his muscles mind numbingly.

“Y/n.”

“…mmhm?”

He gets it soon enough, chuckling to him, and grabs a towel, wiping off his sweat, and approaches you. His gym short hangs low from his torso, his pelvic bone out on display, and sweat glistening his perfect skin. A carnage instinct bubbles up in your gut, temptation plays it’s mind games as your hands tingles to pull down the remainder of his clothing the closer he gets.

He stands tall, cocky, veiny. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You abort mission, turning away to escape, but is trapped in his big, strong arms planted on either side of you on a plastered wall. He narrows his eyes back at you in interest, canines digging his bottom lip. “I just thought of another way to get my heart pumping. Mind helping out? Roomie.”

#svthub #Dino smut #lee Chan smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #lee Chan #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #🎧 anon

[shaunamilfman]

More Random HC’s cause I’m waiting to go into work :)

Nat:

- Unironically LOVES shirts that are/have the same energy as “women love me, fish fear me”/“Big dick is back in town” etc. she wears them more often than you’d like

- She lives off of Mountain Dew, Red Bull and hot Cheetos, that’s all she packs for lunch everyday and you have to drop off water and a snack for her at practice so she doesn’t pass out since she barely takes care of herself

Misty:

- was one of those girls that had a thing for the Onceler from the Lorax

- She was def apart of the 2012 tumblr culture, (superwholock or whatever it was) one of those girls that would get a tattoo off of one of the YA books they read, hunger games, Harry Potter, stuff like that

Jackie:

- Either really knows how to play American football and is super invested in the NFL, or does not know anything at all “What is a down?”

- Is SO CLINGY (Derogatory) sure you thought it was cute at first until she gets up at 5 am for her morning practice and wakes you up too so you can “brush your teeth together”. It gets even worse when she’s sick, shes the hugest baby when she’s sick and you know if she gets sick you’re bound to get sick a week later because she’s plastered to your side

Van:

- Legit loves anything you get her, even if it’s kind of a joke. Stupid $2 tourist T shirt? You got it for her so she loves it, childish Spider-Man socks, thinks they’re cool as fuck. Just overall very appreciative and excited to recieve anything from you

Lottie:

- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; She’s absolutely good at all the fine arts; she can draw well, she definitely can play the piano and violin, bc her rich parents paid for her to have lessons, etc

- She definitely also did some nerdy shit like take taekwondo until she was 14. Idk why I can just imagine this girl in like that white martial arts gi, doing like punching exercises.

Shauna:

- I don’t know if this makes sense but the kind of gf that when you guys go out to eat, you’ll both be quiet/not talk so you can eavesdrop onto people’s conversations and talk about it in the car on the way home

ugh no nat is such a loser she so would. she shows up at your house wearing this

asking her when the last time she drank water was and she's really got to think about it. she gets so shy if you like cook her something though omg

Misty would have crushes on the weirdest fucking cartoon characters and shit I swear. she pulls you a picture of megamind and you're like "... okay"

superwholockian misty i know that's right. misty has like collectors editions of the Sherlock books. she has like an original printing displayed in her living room fr

Misty def had one of those shirts like "heading off to the shire to become a jedi because my hogwarts letter never came."

i take that and I raise you Jackie being super super invested in the NFL but still does not know how football works. she's into the vibes she's just competitive as fuck. you look over and she's googling what a halfback does.

also Jackie totally follows a soccer team obsessively. she has like 5 jerseys and so so much merch. she even buys you some so she can make you wear it. she's so excited whenever there's a game on. she's def screaming at the ref for making a bad call

jackie's dramatic ass makes you sit in the bathroom with her as she showers. your just sitting on the sink with your head against the mirror barely able to keep your eyes open and she's excitedly rambling on like she's on fucking crack.

also i feel like jackie is such a morning person. you're half an energy drink in and barely awake and she's bouncing off the walls at 6 AM

she definitely gets you sick whenever she gets sick for sure. she's expecting princess treatment squared when she's sick. omg you thought she was needy normally?? your ass is not ready.

Van is so fucking sentimental bro she has a whole box dedicated to little things you gave her, even if it was just something you randomly handed to her lmao

artist lottie has such a hold on me tbh I love it.

martial arts lottie def got a participation trophy and a pat on the back i can not see her being good at it lmao

oh no fr shauna is such a hater she loves doing hater activities with you. jackie's talking about jeff or something and yall are like 😒🙄. she always looks straight for you when stupid shit happens.

#soffsh #shauna thoughts 💙 #jackie thoughts 🩷 #misty thoughts 💛 #nat thoughts 🖤 #lottie thoughts 💜 #van thoughts 🧡

[moonshotsx]

there was nothing left but the scent of a flower - sashnetra (flower shop au)

tattoo artist and the flower shop owner, a tale as old as time

-

"Uh, it looks like someone finally bought up the old store".

Sasha lifted her eyes from the flower arrangement she was working on when she heard her apprentice speak.

"Really?"

"A tattoo shop? That's interesting, pretty sure it's the first one in this area," Marcia continued, "Oh! Is that a duckling as a logo? That's so cute!"

"A duck as a tattoo shop logo? That's a first," Sasha commented with a chuckle, her attention back towards the job at hand. She had a few hours to finish it before the client was supposed to pick it up.

"It's got a scar over one of its eyes, to be fair, very intimidating," Marcia teased before her attention was captured by someone walking out of the shop, "Oh my god, is that the new owner? She's hot!"

That caught Sasha's attention as well.

She quickly made her way to the window where Marcia had been standing, sneaking a look over the tall apprentice.

Marcia didn't lie. A stunning brunette was just outside the building in just a white tank top and jeans. She was too far away to properly get a look at her features, but Sasha was enjoying the view regardless.

The way her muscles flexed as the mysterious woman leaned to clean the window was making her all-

"I know she's hot, but you can stop drooling on my shoulder, Sash," Marcia's voice brought her back to reality, realizing just how long she had been staring with her mouth open.

"Mind your business, girlie," she hit Marcia's shoulder playfully only prompting a laugh from the latter.

"Yes, mom," she showed her tongue before adding, "You should go greet her, you're the owner here, isn't that good etiquette?"

"We are far too busy today with all those deadlines just days away, we have at least twenty more orders to satisfy just today," Sasha reasoned as she made her way back to the flower arrangement she had been working on.

"C'mon, how long it's going to take you to say hi to her? I'll cover up for you," Marcia showed off her impeccable smile that only made the florist more suspicious.

"You being so adamant about me meeting with the new tattoo shop owner surely has nothing to do with how you were telling me to 'please get laid, you've been so stressed that I can cut your tension with a butter knife'?" Sasha made air quotes with her fingers as she repeated their conversation from the week prior.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Marcia said in a sing-song tone, twirling around to the register.

Sasha narrowed her eyes, slightly shaking her head, "You're something else, Marsh," she exhaled loudly, "But, fine, I'll go greet her once I'm done with this arrangement. You'll take care of the register and the three clients that are supposed to pick up their orders this afternoon, got it?".

"Works for me," Marcia gave her the thumb's up before skipping her way to the back to get the already finished flower arrangements, a smirk plastered on her face.

Once left alone, Sasha sighed again, "I'm not that desperate to get laid, am I?"

-

Just a little over an hour later, Sasha found herself in front of the tattoo shop's door as she was greeted with an embossed logo on the glass and the sign 'We're Open!'.

She checked herself out for a moment on the window before walking inside, the sound of a tiny bell ringing to announce her arrival.

"Hello?"

It was clear the shop was still finishing up the last details before an official opening. Some framed pictures and artworks were leaning against the freshly unboxed furniture, ready to be nailed to the rich purple walls.

The only thing already hung up was a neon version of the duck logo Marcia had been talking about, quite the statement piece, Sasha might add.

Her snooping around was interrupted by a muted thud coming from under the desk, followed by a muttered curse.

"Are you alright, baby?" Sasha asked as she furrowed her brows.

At first only two eyes peeked from the check-in desk, one of them sporting a scar similar to the one of the duckling.

"Yep, all fine, just caught me a bit off guard while I was connecting a few cables for the computer here," the brunette from earlier started explaining and Sasha couldn't help but be fixated on her beauty.

The ticking of the wall clock laying on the couch in the entrance of the shop filled the silence left for a few moments before the tattoo artist spoke up again.

"Oh, wait, I didn't introduce myself," she blurted out, "Sorry, my mind has been all over the place, "Hi! I'm Anetra, welcome to the 'Lost Duckling' tattoo shop. How can I help you out?"

Sasha shook the extended hand, taking in the roughness of Anetra's hand and loving it.

"I'm Sasha, I own the flower shop right in front of your shop? 'Mother Flower'?" She replied with a soft smile, "I just wanted to properly welcome you in to the neighborhood".

"Oh, yeah, I saw it when I was checking out the place, you did a wonderful job with it. Even from the outside, it looks like a flower paradise!"

"I'm liking what you've done so far with your place too, 'Lost Duckling', you said?"

Anetra blushed, "Yeah, I just put together a childhood obsession with ducks and the story of my life to come up with that," she let out a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of her head.

"I never felt like I belonged growing up, you know being mixed at first, then coming out didn't help," she continued explaining herself, "So, I kind of always felt like a lost duckling trying to find my way in the world, you know?"

Before Sasha had any time to reply, Anetra shook her head, "God, I'm so sorry, trauma dumping on a first meeting isn't the best look," she whined before adding, "It's just... you got a calming aura about you, I feel like I can tell you everything," she blurted out, only to be stopped by Sasha's had on hers.

"It's okay," Sasha said, "You're not the first one to tell me that. I'm glad you feel safe around me," she paused, "I really hope that you'll find your place one day".

Anything more she wanted to add was stopped in its tracks when her phone started ringing.

Sasha looked down to see the number of one of her clients, she knew she had to answer.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Anetra. Feel free to come by the shop any time," Sasha waved the brunette goodbye before answering her phone, "Hi, this is Sasha Colby, how can I help you?".

Anetra watched as Sasha exited her shop, giving her a tiny wave before the door closed behind her.

"Yeah, I think I might have found my place," she muttered to herself with a smile.

#fic prompt #sashnetra #flower shop au

[reidsaurora]

"The Butterfly and the Flower" ~ S. Reid

pictures not an actual depiction of reader; Spencer Reid icon by @catsadams

Summary: This is the story of how Y/N, a social butterfly, fell in love with Spencer Reid, a wallflower.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,241

Content Warning: mentions of partying, mentions of alcohol

Genre: Fluff. pure, sweet, romantic Fluff ❤️

Extra Notes: ik the summary is crappy, i suck at summaries 😭✋🏻

Based On the One-Liner: "I still can't believe you saw me when I was just a wallflower."

Originally Written: 07/24/2022

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

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"'𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡,' 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰, 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐮𝐩." - 𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧

"Please forgive me. I am not a speech person," Spencer chuckled through the microphone.

I laughed along with the guests, though I felt butterflies go off in my stomach as I awaited his vows.

"I never knew that I could be rendered speechless by someone's beauty," he started, and I was already a crying mess. "You know, you hear about that stuff in movies and songs. For me, it was all those old poems my mom used to read me when I was growing up. I never thought I'd find the person who rendered me speechless. And then, a very dear friend of mine invited me to a house party she was throwing."

Penelope giggled through her own tears, raising her hand. "That's me," she mouthed silently.

"And it was at that house party, that I laid eyes on her," he motioned to me, which only made me cry that much harder. "Now, as everyone here knows, I am not a big fan of small talk. I can't start small talk, I can't carry on small talk."

He turned to face me with a grin plastered straight across his face, and I already knew where he was heading with this.

"But Y/N here had other plans. In fact, I was so blindsided by her plans that I ran away and hid in Penelope's bathroom."

The crowd roared with laughter as we all imagined the scene. It was almost like that night came in a flashback to me—Spencer, leaning up against the wall in Penelope's living room, reading who knows what. A wallflower.

He must've read my mind, seeing as the next thing he said was, "I still can't believe you saw me when I was just a wallflower. You know, the first time it happened, I thought it was a coincidence. But then it happened again. Almost exactly a month later, actually."

I thought back to that night too—leaning against the wall again, reading a much heftier book than he had been the first time I saw him, clearly looking for a way to ignore the real world.

"Hey, wallflower," I smiled, breaking his attention from his novel, "I thought for sure I'd scared you away last time."

He just stared back at me, wide-eyed and almost scared. He muttered some form of words that signaled a feeling of nervousness as he tried to convey he wasn't the small talk type.

"What are you reading?" I asked, pointing to the book in his hands.

"Wh- h- huh?" he stuttered, seeming confused as to why I was talking to him.

"Don't tell me I gave you whiplash or something," I giggled. "Seriously, whatcha reading?"

"Uh… A Study in Scarlet…" he paused to lick his lips. "Why do you ask?"

"You seemed like a cool dude. Or, at least cooler than that guy over there shotgunning beers," I laughed.

He looked over to the guy, letting out a small chuckle. "So," he changed the subject, holding up his book, "Do you like Sherlock Holmes?"

I found myself blushing as I explained, "If I'm being honest, I don't know a thing about Sherlock Holmes."

An awkward silence came over the air as I attempted to find something else to say to him. I racked my brain for topics, compliments—anything.

As he began to open his book back up, I stopped him. "But I do know something about you."

"What's that?"

"I think you're really sweet and cute."

Spencer chuckled as he began to speak again. "You know how some people have meet-cutes?" he asked, earning some form an understanding response from the crowd, "I like to think we had a meet-awkward: two awkward souls destined to be awkward together for, awkwardly enough, forever."

No words could describe the feeling I had for Spencer, especially in that moment. Love felt too weak, adoration seemed like a lousy word, and devotion was simply inadequate.

"I only have a few, short vows—really only one general vow," Spencer explained, "I vow to always be your wallflower. I promise to never change—for your sake, for my sake, for our future children's sake—unless it is for the better."

I knew he meant it, every single word of it. From the very first conversation that Spencer and I held, I knew he'd never change—and something about that brought a sense of comfort I'd never felt before.

"Secondly, I vow to always love you for who you are—my social butterfly," he grinned. "Lastly, I vow to always communicate, even if I was pretty lousy at that when we first met."

I giggled through tears as the crowd let out one, big, collective laugh.

"And now, for the rings," the officiant, also known as David Rossi instructed.

I nearly started to sob all over again as I watched Michael make his way down the aisle (with the help of big brother Henry).

"Here you go, Uncle Spencer," Michael smiled up at Spencer.

Spencer thanked him with a quiet chuckle as he took the ring from him, before turning his attention back to me.

"Here you go," Michael turned to smile at me this time.

"Thank you," I grinned back, looking over the ring in my hand as the two boys walked away.

Rossi gave Spencer and I a small smile before asking, "Have you prepared anything to say for the ring exchange?"

Spencer nodded with a toothy grin of his own. "I give you, Y/N Y/L/N, this ring as a sign of my love. I am honored to be called your husband—your wallflower—from this moment forward until forever."

The only word that seemed to accurately describe what I felt when Spencer slid that wedding band onto my finger was pure, raw, unadulterated bliss. With that ring now on my finger, I felt whole—I felt complete.

I swallowed back my tears as I lifted the ring to Spencer's hand. "I give you, Spencer Reid, this ring as a sign of my love. I am honored to be called your wife—your social butterfly—from this moment forward until forever."

For the first time that day, I witnessed the tears welling in Spencer's eyes finally spill over. His hand shook nervously as I placed the ring on his finger.

Rossi looked between the two of us again, this time with a look of adoration, before he began speaking again. "Spencer, do you take Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he answered through tears.

"Y/N, do you take Spencer as your lawfully wedded husband?"

I beamed from ear-to-ear as I answered, "I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid," Rossi grinned, a tear sliding down his own cheek at that point. "I can't believe I am about to say this but, wallflower, you may kiss your butterfly."

Out of all the kisses I shared with Spencer, that was my favorite. I'd found myself speechless many times that day, and even then, I couldn't find words to accurately describe the love, the sentiment, and the pure romance that was shared between our lips when we kissed. The taste of lips against lips, the sound of our loved ones cheering us on, the feeling of our hearts beating in sync—it was easily one of my favorite moments from that whole day.

And it all happened because the butterfly couldn't stay away from the flower.

"𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲." - 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬

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Welcome one and all to my entry for @reidsbookclub's one year celebration!

I can't lie. My writer's block got the best of me. I tried multiple prompts and... nothing. I even tried something else with this prompt before, and the only thing I can say is that God was on my side, I finally came up with this idea and I am so so so happy with how it turned out. I find myself saying this a lot, but I feel like this is the definition of "good things come to those who wait."

Anyway, sappy part over, but yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed this imagine!

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[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Three

A wall of heat hits our faces as Marnie and I shuffle into a cocktail bar that evening. It’s a hopping, trendy place right in the centre of town, and even though it’s Tuesday night it’s full. It’s one of those places that will set you back nearly fifteen euro for some obscure, designer cocktail called Foxy Kitten Vodka Tonic, and other such names that are so humiliating to say out loud that you end up getting flustered and ordering rum and coke instead.

We leave our jackets in the cloak room, and I strip down to my skimpy dress, worn with no tights in icy cold weather like true red blooded Irish girls do. Marnie didn’t dress up though, she’s too cool. She’s wearing the same mesh top and black runners she was in earlier, but I could never go to a bar casually. It’s just not what small town girls do, and Claire would have never allowed me to leave our apartment in any other state. My feet already hurt in my five inch heels after walking the ten minutes from the bus stop,  but I don’t dare complain. I just slide into a booth and start looking at the drinks menu, slipping out of them and uncurling my cramped feet on the cool tile floor underneath the table while trying not to outwardly shudder with relief. 

“Wine as usual, is it, Evie, or will we try to seize the spirit of the night and be adventurous?” Marnie’s got her nose in the menu, and I can barely hear what she’s saying over the thumping remix of some Katy Perry song.

“I think it will have to be the wine.” I reply, my head spinning at the prices. You know you’re in the wrong bar when a cocktail costs half of your weekly food budget. 

“Oh boring. Have a Sloe Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall or something. Come on, you and I are out on the pull, let’s get ourselves loosened up a bit.”

“I’m not ordering a cocktail called that.” 

“I’ll order it for you if you don’t want to say it.” She points out the ingredients to me. “It looks so yum.” She flips through the menu with a concentrated face. “What do you reckon has the most possible alcohol in it? I feel like I need to get absolutely plastered so I can get through an evening in this bar. The vibes are absolutely rancid.”

“We can go if you want.” I say hopefully, picturing an evening curled up in my bed with a hot water bottle. 

“Stop. We’re not leaving. Now which cocktail will it be?” 

I’m still insisting on the Pinot Grigio when a group of NCAD students join us and start sliding into our booth with us. Marnie wanted us to have a group night, because apparently just having two of us alone would have been sad, and because she’s an extrovert she’s not very good at coping unless she’s surrounded by as many different people as possible. 

“Oh, sorry.” One girl says as she clambers over me, her elbow colliding with my forehead, and I smile and pretend that it’s fine. They’re all talking now, the cacophonous sound of at least twelve art students with interesting haircuts filling up my stratosphere. I reach underneath the table to put my shoes back on again, and when I glance down at my little satin dress and strappy heels, I’m struck by how completely out of place I look among everyone else. Apparently I should have worn jeans, flat shoes, edgier makeup, but this is just another case of me missing out on the memo. No matter what I do, no matter where I am I can never seem to get things right. At school I was never dressed up enough, my attempts were always misguided and awkward, and now that I’ve figured that out, I’ve found dresses that hug my body in the right places, shoes that make my legs look impossibly long, the rules have changed again. I excuse myself and wriggle out of the booth. I don’t need to use the bathroom but I want to go and stare at myself agitatedly in the mirror. Maybe I can run a little more kohl around my eyes, smudge it out, muss up my hair a bit so that I look a little more Alexa Chung. 

I shove through the doors and plant myself in front of the sinks, then pull my blunt eyeliner pencil from my little handbag and start raking it along my waterline. With my little finger I rub it in, making sure to get it onto the bottom lids so that it looks like I literally woke up like this. I was partying so hard, I just passed out somewhere and now I’m here again, in another bar. I’m just beginning to back comb the sleek, straightness out of my hair with my fingers when someone comes out of one of the cubicles. I don’t pay her any attention until she’s washing her hands next to me, and that’s when I recognise her. Kind of. From somewhere, only I can’t place her small, delicate features. She sniffs gently and rubs her hand under her nose, and then briefly meets my eyes in the mirror. She doesn’t recognise me either, her gaze just slides away. 

I’m just about to let it go when someone speaks from behind me. 

“Evie?”

I whirl around, and it’s Jen. I look at her, then look at the other girl, flooded with recognition. I do know her from somewhere. Michelle. The famous Michelle who I agonised over for weeks, zooming in on photographs of her pretty face, letting her tear down and completely destroy all semblances of my self-esteem without needing to ever say a word to each other. How could I forget?

“Oh my God. Hi Jen.” I say with surprise. She looks different now. Gone is the bright red cropped hair that she had before, now it’s chin length and straight, jet black with her roots and ends dyed bright, lurid magenta. She comes up to me for a hug, and I notice that she looks a little ashen faced, hands trembling slightly, but her hug is warm and familiar and somehow manages to transport me to a different time and place for a fleeting moment.

“You got extremely hot.” She comments and she stands back. “Wow, look at you.”

“Oh, stop.” I say shyly. “I feel so overdone.”

“That’s just what first years do.” She reassures me. “Spend enough nights out on the streets at two in the morning trying to flag down a taxi, and you’ll change your tune pretty quickly.” She peers down at my shoes. “I personally wouldn’t have fun trying to hike home in those.”

“They’re painful.” I admit, and I lean back against the sink unit to take the weight off them. 

“So what’s your story now? It’s been absolute ages since I’ve seen you. Where are you living?”

“Fitzwilliam Square.” I say, and then cringe in anticipation of her reaction. She boggles her eyes and makes an astonished face, just like everybody else who hears. 

“That’s so fancy, oh my god. What’s the rent on that?”

“Three hundred.” I say, hoping the conversation will move on quickly so I don’t have to get into the whole thing about it. It’s Claire’s dad’s property, and it’s not the whole building, it’s just the top two floors. There was a couple living there before we moved in, and when he evicted them for vague reasons both he and Claire acted like that was a totally normal thing to do, so I went along with it. I usually like to leave all that out now that I’ve learned that unlawful eviction is not okay, actually, and that for most people in this city, the term “Landlord” is synonymous with the words “Filthy, Diseased Bin Rat.” Happily though, Jen just muses about how cheap that sounds, and then moves on. 

“And did you get into art college in the end?”

“I did! I’m in NCAD.”

“Oh, sick. Same as Michelle.”

I turn to the other girl, who’s waiting patiently for Jen to wrap up, smiling blandly at me while she dries her hands with toilet roll, since none of the hand dryers are ever working in these places. 

“Shell.” Jen prompts. “Do you remember Evie?”

“I don’t.” She says in her soft, feminine voice. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Kind of.” I shrug, wishing to avoid getting into the where and whens of our last encounter. “It was ages ago though, don’t worry.”

“She was at Jude’s going away party.” Jen informs her, and I have to turn away from her, his name like a blade in my gut. I have to resist the urge to wince. I start messing with my hair in the mirror again. 

“That was literal years ago.” I say tightly. “No worries if you can’t remember me. I can’t really remember you either.”

“I’m sorry, I actually don’t.” Michelle says. “That’s probably really bad, but thinking back, like, there were loads of people there, and like you said it was ages ago.”

“No worries.” I repeat. 

“So you’re a friend of his?”

“Not really.”

“You were.” Jen says defensively, then to Michelle: “She was. They were close that summer.”

“I knew him for a few months, and now I don’t know him anymore.” I say brusquely. For some reason my hands are shaking as I try to stuff my makeup back into my bag, and my spine feels like it’s made from steel cable. 

“I didn’t know you fell out.” Jen says with a frown. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened, he just obviously wasn’t bothered about me, so…”

“He never mentioned that to me.”

I sigh loudly. Of course he didn’t. I’m sure he never talked about me at all, not even once. ‘Well,” I say shakily. “It’s better that we don’t talk anymore, I’ve been too busy, and like I said, we hardly knew each other, so actually, it’d be weird if we stayed in touch. We both have other priorities.”

“You know he used to be my boyfriend.” Michelle tells me, I don’t look at her, but I can see her leaning into the sink in my periphery, watching me as I drop my eyeliner pencil and let it roll into the basin. “I know how he is. Or was. He was so immature, and I don’t think he really cared about anybody but himself, so like, if he was a dickhead to you or hurt your feelings-”

“Nah we weren’t that close.” I insist. “We just hung out sometimes and then he moved away, it was nothing.”

“Oh.” She watches me attempt to zip up my bag with increasing frenzy, and I know that she doesn’t believe me. 

“Anyway.” I say, flinging it over my shoulder. “So nice to see you both again, but I’m going to go back to my friends.” I flounce out of the bathroom, but instead of turning right and going back to the bar, I swing left and head out to the smoking area, pushing through the doors into the freezing air, which flings shards of ice at my face and my bare arms and legs. I want some air, but actually, the air out there is the furthest thing from fresh. I stand there shivering, looking into the faces of all of the people out there with me, trying to deduct which one has the least threatening aura, and would be most likely to let me bum a cigarette just so I can do something with my trembling hands. 

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

[that--fish]

《Hellfire》

Chapter 1: The Wedding

Synopsis of series: Yn gets married off to the head of the Kamisato Clan. Yn's family, Inazuma's wealthiest tycoons, were nearly on the brink of bankruptcy so they arranged a marriage with one of Inazuma's most powerful politicians to maintain their power. Would Yn be a sacrificed pawn in a bigger game or would she turn the tables?

A jug of angst and a pinch of fluff ☁️✨️

The bachelorette party wasn't as fun as I expected. But what could I have expected? Mainly relatives and my step-mother's acquaintances. Mostly everyone had passed their 50s years ago, it was as if I was visiting a retirement home. Everyone were catching up, talking about life and gossiping. But I have no life to talk about and I have no one to talk to. I'm sure father spent most of our money on this. The well decorated room, a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling; he almost made a replica of a ballroom.

Today is the day. The day where I'm going to start my miserable life as someone's wife. Will he treat me like a servant? Will I get my freedom? It dreads me to think about it. I don't even know him, I don't even know how he looks like. Father didn't give me any pictures of him. Let's just hope he isn't too...undesirable.

My wedding dress looks stunning nonetheless. It looks like a ballgown, like of those princesses I read in fairytale books when I was younger. I know how to sew dresses, I could have just sewn one myself but father insisted not to. The dress was adorned with shiny pearl beads and flowery lace patterns. Slipping on the dress was not an easy task. The corset is tight! It's very hard to breathe in this, I'm as slim as it gets! Wait...this dress comes with heels? I thought I can wear anything I want under this. The heels are the perfect fit, but they are very high. I've never worn heels this high, I didn't have the need to. It looks like a glass slipper but with diamonds, a lot of diamonds, I wonder if these are real? One of the bridesmaids are doing my hair into a bun and another is doing my makeup. Luckily the makeup isn't as cakey as my step-mother's, given that my bridesmaids are my step-mother's friends. I suppose she has chosen a maid of honour for me, I can't tell who it is though, they all don't look too different.

The reception is starting soon. I'd better be prepared to be under the eyes of many old men. Kamisato Ayato, my soon-to-be husband. I hope the age gap isn't too big. I wonder how much money did father give to get him to marry me. We don't have much money to offer, our company is going bankrupt soon. Well, father might have played some nasty tricks, but that's not for me to know. Sigh Let's get this over with.

The reception is held in a ballroom, a fairly large one. There are murals on the walls and ceiling depicting a heaven, with angels and clouds and a clear blue sky. I requested a piece to be played when I entered, Winter. (Vivaldi Four Seasons: Winter) There is a whole orchestra playing. The piece is very dramatic, like the climax of a story. I walked down the aisle, holding father's arm. He is smiling ear to ear, I'm sure it's a fake one. I plastered a smile on my face, walking towards my fiancé.

He is more handsome than I expected. Father made a good choice for once. The person who I'm going to spend my life with, this blue-haired guy who is a head taller than me. My neck hurts from looking up. He gave me a soft grin...

Remember dear, do not trust anyone.

Mother might probably say that to me.

His lavender-blue eyes, soft features, his hair tucked back into a sleek ponytail...GIRL, GET A GRIP! He is probably way older than me. Father must have bribed him into this, just as he does for other things.

I said my vows just as how I practiced weeks ago. It went flawlessly, no stuttering.

"You may now kiss the bride"

Okay, this part - father didn't tell me about this - I didn't expect father would do me like this - I am so not ready.

He leaned in for the kiss, one hand pulled me closer by the waist, the other cupping my face. Act natural, Yn. I put my arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. Haha~ I wonder what father has to say about this. I pulled away. Such a coward. His face was barely pink, he doesn't seem fazed.

After cutting the cake, popping champagne and all, I am tired. How late is it now? Ah, I need to greet the in-laws. How do I do that exactly?

"Ah, Yn, we heard so much about you from your father. We knew that you would make a lovely wife for our son." I suppose that's his mother. She seems rather sincere with her words. "You should stay at our estate, to get you used to it."

"Yes, yes I agree. Your step-mother and I will miss you so dearly, Yn." His menacing grin could go unnoticed. Who knows what he's plotting behind my back.

Well, smile and nod, smile and nod.

The night is still young, Yn. Ugh, when will this end? I don't do social interactions and plus, it was father's idea to keep me cooped up in the estate. Was this how mother might have felt on her wedding day? I wonder what did she see in father?

"Yn, is anything the matter?" He asked. His voice... i-it's so...calming? His voice makes me feel like I'm melting in a warm embrace. I doubt father has ever talked to mother like this.

"Oh, n-nothing."

It was almost midnight, and it ended. Finally.

As everyone left, father ushered me to my husband's limousine, which I could have done very well by myself.

"Take good care of my precious Yn."

"I will, Mr Tanaka."

Father waved goodbye, dabbing away his tears. It's all just for show. The Kamisato estate isn't far from here. Now, father can't interfere with my life anymore.

I am my own person.

Freedom.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin wallpaper #genshin fanfic #genshin impact wallpaper #ayato kamisato fanart #kamisato estate #genshin kamisato ayato #kamisato clan #kamisato ayato #ayato fluff #ayato headcanons #ayato imagines #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #genshin ayato #ayato fanart #ayato x reader #ayato #ayato kamisato imagines #ayato kamisato #kamisato siblings #ayato fanfic #ayato gi #ayato genshin impact #ayato angst

[shiftwithjane]

okay so i finished my DR bedroom for my modern stranger things DR last night, but i went to the dentist yesterday, and was sore and tired from having some fillings being taken care of (still sore) so i didn’t feel like posting last night. so i’m gonna show you guys my bedroom, plus the connecting walk in closet and bathroom. again, i used the app room planner to do this, and it’s actually quite addicting once you start using it :)

QUICK DISCLAIMER:

all the band posters you are going to see in my room are bands that i do listen to. i’m not being a fake fan of the bands, or just scripting that my DR self listens and loves these bands just because i think eddie would find it impressive or whatever. i do listen and love these bands and even more that aren’t pictured on my walls! (i’m only saying this because some people are fucking rude, and i’m not about to have people accusing me of being a fake fan and shit) okay rant over lol

now onto the photos:

here is the floor plan overview:

here is the overview of my bedroom from the entrance to my room:

now this is my room from all angles (as you can see it is plastered with band posters and my rockstar/celebrity crushes) :

this is my TV, TV stand, and dvd player is sitting on top. i wanted my TV to be put on the wall on the app, because that’s what i scripted initially my tv would be on, but it wouldn’t let me :( so just imagine the TV is mounted on the wall lol

then we have my little seating area in front of my small window, i thought it was so cute:

i’m gonna make multiple post going further in detail about my room and everything, and showing you the rest of my room, because tumblr only allows 10 pictures per post on mobile, so stay tuned for my next posts :)

also, I AM AWARE that in these photos some of the posters don’t look even, or placed right, but they are. when you “walk around” the room in the app, and you get close to the wall, it all is the same size, and isn’t all off. i am also aware that some of the colors won’t be the exact match, especially in the bathroom. i did the best i could with matching everything with what they had to choose from on the free version. they have more options and colors when you get the pro versions on the app, but i’m not paying for that lol. so please be kind even if some things aren’t all very matchy-matchy, or if this isn’t your vibe. this is MY ROOM after all, and i LOVE it, so that’s all that matters. i’m just sharing this because i thought people would like to see, and it might spark some motivation in a way for people who may have lost it. if you guys have any questions, feel free to comment on any of the posts i’m going to make, or send me an ask! reminder, all hate and bullying will be blocked, because i do not put up with that. :)

#reality shifting #shifting #shifting community #shifting mutuals #shiftblr #shifters #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #shifting realities #shifting motivation #shifting script #shifting consciousness

[baronfulmen]

Why you should clear your brain’s cache and cookies

A Rant About Shrooms, AI Art, Trauma, and Appreciating Life

Hey look at this image.  You shouldn’t trust evolutionary psychology people because it’s often Just So Stories people make up, but that doesn’t mean we should throw out the baby with the bath water so let’s talk about the evolutionary importance of ✨PATTERN RECOGNITION ✨

Okay so the tiger in the picture above is trying to hide so it can eat us, and we’re trying to see it so we can avoid being eaten.  Great.  Cool.  That means there’s a VERY important part of our brains that has evolved to look at noisy images and play “find the tiger”.  (It works for non-visual stuff too, we’ll get to that.)

This is also how AI-generated art works, basically.  You give a computer some random static and then say “somewhere in this image is [insert prompt], find it” and it tries very hard to do so, like when you point out shapes in clouds to someone.

Our brains work via committee, so the part that’s doing that kind of pattern recognition and visual processing isn’t really any smarter than something like Google Deep Dream which you can hand a picture of some dude and say “FIND THE DOGS” and it’ll give you this:

People have compared images like the one above to being on shrooms and, having now taken shrooms for the first time I can say I get the comparison.  What’s important, though, is WHY this seems to be the case.  So far as I can tell (I’ll say this disclaimer once, I am some random dude on Tumblr and this is an anecdote, not scientific data - your experiences and brain chemistry may vary, do your research, I am not endorsing anything illegal, etc.) what happens on shrooms isn’t you being high, in the traditional sense.

Some drugs interfere with your perception and processing of the world.  That’s what I was expecting, and for a moment it’s what I thought I was getting.  But instead, I think what the shrooms did was delete my brain’s config file.

So now you’ve lost all the built up definitions and stored patterns, and you look at the walls and your brain no longer knows if there’s something important in all the detail.  Is there a tiger hiding in there?  WHO KNOWS!  And it takes all those little swirls and textures in the plaster or paint and starts over-processing all of it looking for patterns.  This means you don’t so much “come down” from being high, but finish re-calibrating.  At some point your brain is all, “Hey I’ve determined that’s just a normal texture for the ceiling to have, I’m not going to look that closely anymore”.

Okay but what does that have to do with trauma and appreciating life?

So glad you asked, hypothetical reader.

As I mentioned above, it’s not just visual stuff that we look for patterns in.  From an evolutionary standpoint it’s super valuable to be able to say “hey I ate that plant and then got sick, those are probably related and I shouldn’t eat that anymore”.  But there’s two big problems with that.  The first is that as with the visual processing that one part of your brain on its own isn’t smart.  It’s an algorithm, not an entire brain, so it fucks up sometimes.

I know a guy that couldn’t check his mail, because he’d been in really bad debt for a while and the fear of losing his home and the hounding by debt collectors  traumatized him so badly that his brain said “Man every time we look at the stuff that comes in the mail we get SO UPSET!  Better avoid looking at mail!” which meant when someone put envelopes down on top of the groceries (meaning he’d have to pick up what might be bills to get to the food) he found himself thinking “maybe I should just order pizza” even though he knew how stupid that was.  Trauma is a bitch, y’all.

The other thing is that sometimes the pattern was valid but is simply no longer useful.  The context has changed, and now it’s getting in the way rather than helping... but your brain doesn’t have a reset button.  Well, not a built-in one... but turns out this shit does the trick:

This is a PB&J&M sandwich I ate yesterday.  Ignore the chipped plate.  It made me feel kinda queasy all day, and at first I was disappointed.  I felt a little floaty and wobbly and things did start to look a little interesting, and I was having a nice time, but it wasn’t the mind-blowing experience I’d been hoping for.  And then the shrooms finished deleting all my stored patterns.

You know that stoner thing where they’re like “dude this cat is, like, so soft.  Why can’t we all just love each other and pet cats?” and you roll your eyes at them?  Yeah, well, the thing to know is that’s not them being stoned, that’s them seeing the world with a fresh perspective and realizing that, yeah, cats ARE soft and we don’t appreciate that enough and man why CAN’T we just relax and love each other?

In other words, it’s not distorting your perception - it’s resetting it.  You get to experience that wonder and joy of seeing things for the first time, and it’s lovely.  There are so many details that your brain files away as unimportant - it’s busy checking for tigers, who cares about appreciating the grass?  I had a great talk with my daughter (side disclaimer, she’s an adult and I was totally lucid by then and I cleared it with my designated babysitter first) and got to really see her as an adult for the first time.  Kids grow up a little at a time and it’s wild to be able to wipe out the “yeah, yeah, that’s your kid, you know what they look like” thing and SEE them, see how they’ve grown and what they really look like as a whole adult person.

I also realized I wasn’t being fair with her.  She’s had issues I won’t go into here, she’s done some dangerous or irresponsible shit like most kids have and I was still filled with parental anxiety about that and was viewing her through that filter.  What is she up to?  Is she acting squirrely?  She hasn’t been home for a few days and now she’s all manic, is she safe?  Is she fucking up?  Am I fucking up by letting her fuck up?

And with that filter erased, I could see... she’s a good kid.  She’s manic because she has ADHD and decided she doesn’t want to take meds.  She has some issues, but she’s an adult now and those aren’t my business anymore; those are now her adult issues that she can work on in her own time and her own way.  I can finally look at her as... not a peer, she’s still my kid, but as a complete adult person that I don’t need to fix and can just love and support.

It’s like Marie Kondo came into my brain and was like “hey does this pattern you’re viewing everything through spark joy?  No?  Okay let’s thank it for its service and send it on its way.”

And this is why people use shrooms to treat trauma.  I’m not saying it’s a magic cure-all, I’m not saying that it will work for everyone, but... man it’s pretty great to clear things out.  That sense of wonder and appreciation is already fading, but it’s not that the shrooms are wearing off - the wipe was an event not a condition - it’s just the normal process of my brain filing things away as “not a tiger” and ignoring them again.

It’s like those power washing videos.  You scour off the accumulated grime, and then the grime starts to build up again but at least you get it nice and clean for now and were reminded that, hey, that can look pretty nice.  I can see why people say not to do them too often, as wonderful as my experience was there just wouldn’t be a point in doing it again right away.  Maybe in a few months, who knows.

Final thoughts and warnings

I was queasy the whole day, longer than most people seem to experience.  It didn’t bother me much, I never felt like I was in danger of throwing up although I know people who have.  If you’re worried about it there are ways around that, it’s caused by the actual mushrooms rather than the active chemicals so you can (supposedly) make a sort of tea and strain out the actual mushroom bits. 

I tried watching some of those trippy videos, and that was a mistake.  There was too much visual stimulation and the disconnect of “wait it looks like we’re flying through a psychedelic landscape of fractals but it feels like we’re just sitting in a chair” made me feel antsy and uncomfortable.  Turns out it’s better to just look at something fairly boring and let your brain over-analyze it.

Have a babysitter.  My wonderful supportive wife was mine, and I ended up not needing one but frankly that might be my own strange brain.  I’ve always had a strong separation between the main “thinking” part of my brain and the rest, so there wasn’t really any chance I would mistake my altered state for normal life.  Better safe than sorry though, especially at first.

Do your research.  Don’t go for the highest dose you can in search of some crazy trip - the best thing is the mental refresh, not seeing the walls move.  I took 3.5g, just for reference.

Plan for it to take up your whole day AND to be kinda tired the day after.  Think of it like taking a sick day, you’re going to want to spend most of the time just laying back and dozing on the couch.

Be in a good mood, and a place that makes you feel good.  Lots of people suggest being out in nature, I can imagine that would be really nice.

Be extremely cautious when combining shrooms with other things.  Don’t do it on purpose - it’s not needed, I promise - and do your research if you’re on anti depressants because while it seems mostly safe there’s theoretically a chance of having a bad interaction like serotonin syndrome.  My own research has implied that’s probably not an actual concern but I’m just some guy on Tumblr and you shouldn’t trust me.

Don’t use drugs if you’re under 20, don’t do illegal stuff, don’t blame me if you fuck yourself up.  I will not under any circumstances assist anyone in obtaining shrooms.  All I’ll say is they’re legal in some places and if you don’t live in one of those places you’re on your own.  While they do grow naturally in some places, so do mushrooms that will fucking kill you - and it can be hard to tell the difference.  Don’t eat random mushrooms, ever.

#shrooms #magic mushrooms #cw drug use #tw drug use #psychadelic