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zarla-s · 1 year

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How do you decide when to use Spamtons little speech quirk and what to have him say? Your writing for him feels so natural!

Spamton’s speech pattern is surprisingly tricky! It has a lot of weird little things to it, haha. I’m glad you think I’m doing a good job though. :D Generally I try to keep in mind a few things for him...

Spamton misspells things a lot, but not always in the same way (with exceptions). He also likes substituting numbers for letters, usually in words that get caught in a spam filter to try to get around it but not always. ( [[Amazed at thi5 amazing transformation?]], NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING AB04T! , SOMEONE LEFT [There] SOULS, [Lyeing Around......] , YOU FILLED YOUR [Inventorium] WITH [Half-Pr1ce Sallamy], AND THE [Number on theB4ck]!, [Unforgettable D3als] , [Pr3mIUm luxjerry w4tch] )

When Spamton takes over the narration or influences it, he still misspells things. (CONGRULATIONS YOU ARE THE 100th VISITOR!!! )

Spamton is bad at tenses and mixes them up a lot. This is one of the most endearing things to me for some reason, haha. ( I'M SO [Proud] OF YOU, I COULD [Killed] YOU! , I HAVE [Becomed] NEO. , MY ESTEEM CUSTOMER, THAT GUY [Steal my look]!! OKAY, MAYBE HE [Steal]ed BACK WHAT I TOOK FROM HIM, WE WILL ALSO [Divorced] )

He messes up pluralization or grammar related to it at times. ( HOTSINGLE, 100 CUSTOMER, AN [Valuable Item])

He actually swears a fair amount but it’s usually censored. ( YOU'RE [$!$!] RIGHT! , DEALS SO GOOD I'LL [$!$$] MYSELF!, [$!?!] THE PRESSES! )

His capitalization in his bracket words/phrases is inconsistent and he spells things wrong in them at times as well. He usually capitalizes the first word though. ( [[A LimiTed Time Only!]] , [[Designed BY The Classics]], [[ Sucbscrube ]] , THEN [[WHY]] GO TO A DUMPSTER!!! , YOU'VE GOT THE [[LIGHT.]] , [ succumb to the worm ], SO HAVE I GOT A DEAL THAT'S [sweet Sunday creme] TO ANY SELF RESPECTING [Ball Nut]! , [fluffey] , [Pracitce]).

His capitalization in general is kind of all over the place. ( LIGHT nER! HEY-HE Y HEY!!!, THat'll be 1997 KROMER., ENL4RGE Yourself, I USED TO be A BIG SHOT. , I WOn'T FORCE YOU. , It's still DARK... SO DARK! )

He gets the verb in sentences wrong at times or has too many/too few words in a phrase. ( HEAR THOSE [Balloons]???, [Cool down with a]!!!, [Wake up and the smell the] MY DEAD CARCASS!!! ) His grammar also gets wonky, especially with the tricky homophones like your/you’re or their/there/they’re. ( YOUR A BIGSHOT!! , WELL LET THIS BE A [Email] , SHOW OFF YOU'RE [Big Shot] )

He sometimes doesn’t finish a sentence at all, or leaves a blank space. ( BUY [KeyGen] FROM ME AT [The Low Low Price Of] , MEANWHILE I CAN [sneak out the back] AND, [Hurry now]!!! [Blink] AND YOU'LL MISS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! , THAT'S WHY THEY'RE COMING TO [kill] ME RIGHT NOW. THEY'RE COMING TO ). Sometimes he just says one or two words or sentence fragments. (MONEY NO, KEYGEN) He likes repeating unfinished sentences as well, usually when he’s worked up about something. ( THE MEN INSIDE WOULD THE MEN INSIDE WOULD , I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. )

He uses periods to emphasize certain parts of a sentence and sometimes he just leaves brackets or carets or other punctuation in his speech. ( YOU'RE LIGHT neR< AREN'T YOU? , GO BACK. AND PUT. THE DISK. BACK. WHERE YOU GOT IT. ).

Sometimes he has spaces in the middle of words or in the wrong places ( DID YOU HAVE AN YMORE?, I'M A SALESMAN , ). Sometimes it’s just a mess in general ( DOESN;T IT?KID? ), and sometimes he likes to combine words ( [HonestMan] , [handsomeGuy] ).

My general approach to this is just to keep any typos I make while doing his dialogue lol.

He drops out of caps usually when he’s scared or thoughtful (not accounting for after his battle), and usually when he’s thinking about Mike.

A fair amount of his substitutions are vaguely threatening or allude to some kind of violence or suffering. He mentions death, dying, and screaming a lot, usually in unexpected contexts ( PRICES SO LOW, EVERYONE I KNOW IS [[Dead]]!!!, VACATIONING IN [Burning acid] , NOW I'M THE [[It Burns! Ow! Stop! Help Me! It Burns!]] GUY! ).

Sometimes these threats are relevant warnings if you know what he’s up to ( TAKE THIS DEAL AND YOU WILL [[Die]]!! IT'S THAT GOOD!!!, [Die Now] AND I'LL THROW IN [50] [Bullets] FOR FREE!, THIS IS [One Purchase] YOU WILL [Regret] FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! ). There’s always a sort of “off” vibe to him that makes him feel a little dangerous.

As an aside, Spamton talks about people beating him up a lot.

He likes turning phrases about refunds into non-refunds, haha ( [No Money Back Guaranttee] ). He’ll sometimes just admit outright he’s trying to scam you ( HOW'S AN INNOCENT GUY LIKE ME SUPPOSED TO [Rip People Off] , [What's yours is mine] AND [What's yours is mine]. ).

He’s extremely excited and shouting almost all the time, so he very rarely has only one exclamation point about anything. Usually it’s three but it can go higher. Just go ham on the exclamation points lol.

[[Hyperlink blocked.]] is a tricky one. He does use it a lot, but the context for it is hard to pin down. Usually it relates to things like souls, what it is that’s controlling him or what it wants, or how exactly he wants to escape it. Other times it’s sort of privileged or secret information that would be caught by a filter and blocked, or it’s some scammy thing or another that’d be blocked for user safety. Usually it’s something that someone wouldn’t want the player to know.

He does use sales pitch, adspeak, or internet slang substitutions a lot, ( [Friend Request Accepted] , [[Anything You See On TV!]], [[Workout-Ready Body]], [Luxurious Basement Apartment] , [[Pass My Savings Onto You!]] ) but not all the time! A lot of his substitutions are single words, usually on an odd tangent to the original word or just unusual in general ( [Deep Abyss] , YOUR [[Ant-sized]] [[Rapidly-shrinking]] LIFE!! , [Wacky Stacks] , [Little Nipper], LIKE MANY [buzzing] AND [burning] CREATORS, GET OUT YOUR CYBER [skin wallets] ).

Sometimes they’re just a normal word in the sentence ( YOU GOT [Guts] KID!! , [Part] OF MY BEAUTIFUL [Heart], LOOK IN MY [Eyes] LOOK IN MY [Nose] LOOK IN MY [Mouth] ).

I tend to think about his substitutions a bit like the Orz, where a substituted word has alternate or deeper meaning than you’d think BECAUSE it was substituted. By [LIGHT], did Spamton literally mean light, or does light have another connotation to it he’s adding that’s not clear? I like thinking of the substitutions adding a potential multiple meaning layers to a word, haha. Maybe he can’t help it, or maybe that particular word is hinting at something more...

He can say full sentences without any substitutions in them, but they’re rare ( WHAT ARE THESE STRINGS!? , YOU'RE LEAVING!? WHAT ABOUT MY DISK!?!? , TOO MANY EXCESS VACATION DAYS?? TAKE A GOD DAMN VACATION STRAIGHT TO HELL, I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING I HAD! MY LIFE ADVICE! , BUT KRIS, IF YOU REFUSE. THAT'S YOUR CHOICE. I CAN'T FORCE YOU.). Interestingly, they often involve him saying he can’t force Kris to do something, something he says over and over and over. He seems very preoccupied with it.

#deltarune #spamton #walls of text #asks and answers #meta #in a sense

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gardengirl222 · 2 months

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smelling like an angel!

here is everything i use and i promise you’ll be smelling and looking angelic! 🪽🌸🐇

🪽 my daily go to's are for sure, britney spears fantasy and the midnight fantasy for perfumes, they have that soft vanilla scent while also being sooo 2000s! on fancier days i use the casablanca lily perfume from byredo it’s my fave!

🪽 for my hair the tresemme shampoo and conditioner makes my hair smell so good for days im not kidding!! if you are feeling a bit fancier/expensive then i recommend the oribe gold lust shampoo and conditioner it’s also heavenly.

🪽 i also blowout my hair with the extra strength color wow spray orrrrr the oribe royal blowout spray and use curlers so it holds its shape, then i lock that it with the sexyhair shine/weather proof hairspray then oil/serum (kerestase exlir ultime) or the oribe split end seal! i like my hair to shiny, soft and bouncy like 90s butterfly cut with slightly fluffy bangs, sorta like a supamodel!

🪽 i use the tree hut hibiscus ylang ylang body scrub when i’m feeling pinkkk heaven and if im feeling fancy i use the ouai st. barts scrub and the elemis salt glow. i also am using the sticky dates body wash from lush rn and it’s like sooo vanilla i love it! (i'm literally always going to lush lol). oh! and the necessaire unscented bar soap is fabulous as well!

🪽 i use the pink dove deodorant im not sure what its called since ive gotten it so many times but i love the smell! for lotions i do a mix of a body shimmer from ionic london, or the soleil blanc shimmer from tom ford and the ouai st. barts creme which smells like a frosting vacation! i buy the i also use the sleepy dust powder from lush and basically cover my clothes, bed-sheets, inside of my shoes and body with that, go get it seriouslyyy! i also crush up glittery eyeshadow sometimes to mix in with the powder to leave things shiny and so when i offer some to guys to put on their gym clothes or whateverrrr they are slightly glittery and smell like me 😇😇 ‘swoon’

🪽 something i also like to do which is a little odd is that i like to very lightly spray tom ford cologne on my mattress and pillows because it smells like hotel to me!

🪽 always keep a spare mini perfume samples in your bag because you never know when you’ll need a touch up or if a friend need a quick spritz that way you both aren’t wearing the same perfume! 🤍

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 11 months

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Cry Wolf (m, cold)

Buckle up, y’all, it’s 5k words of ~pure drama~. Lmao, but for real this one is long, dramatic, and a little snz-light (apologies). Also, there isn’t a sneeze until like 2500 words in (oops). Greyson fakes a cold to try to get out of trouble with Elijah, and is instant-karma’d, as one would hope lol. It’s a little more flowery, there’s a lot of snarky dialogue and inner monologuing... idk. I like this one, even though it’s not super snz-heavy. I hope you guys do, too. Let me know what you think :)

cw: male, cold, coughing, fever

Cry Wolf

“Not to be dramatic, but that sounds like literally the worst event on planet earth and I think I would rather be entirely consumed in flames than do it.”

Elijah turned around slowly in his chair and gave Greyson an incredulous look. “‘Not to be dramatic’? What would being dramatic sound like if not that?”

Greyson shrugged and reached around his boss to click out of the email displaying the event details. “Probably me saying, ‘If you make me do that event, I will cut off my own arms and legs and feed them to you’,” he said, sliding back into his own rolling chair. “But that seemed a bit much, even for me.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit much,” Elijah said, grabbing his mouse back and reopening the email. “Consumed in flames is so much more chill.”

“Agreed.”

Elijah snorted. “Grey, I’m sorry but this isn’t an event we can turn down. I know it’s a lot of work, but the press it gets is unparalleled.”

Greyson groaned and threw his head back theatrically. “Liiiiiij,” he moaned, “c’mon, dude. A ten-course dinner for a bunch of blowhard millionaires throwing pocket change at kids with cancer? Seriously? It sounds like my literal definition of hell. Plus, you know anytime I step into one of those stuffy, soulless banquet halls I break out in hives.”

“Genuinely, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, I have never met anyone as dramatic as you are. And I have a twelve-year-old niece, so that’s saying something,” Elijah said, placing a faux-caring hand on Greyson’s arm. The chef shook it off, annoyed, and Elijah laughed. “Grey, I get that the people who pay to go to these things are assholes, but it really is a good cause. Plus, the American Pediatric Cancer Society seriously has the crème de la crème of social media teams. They promote you for months before and after the event.”

Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing. “Creme de la crème?” he asked. “Seriously?”

“Oh, fuck you, Chef.” Elijah said, shaking his head. “You’re doing the damn event. Get used to it.”

***

“Chef?”

Elijah looked around the corner, behind the line, and in the prep kitchen, but Greyson was nowhere to be found.

“Greyson!” Elijah called, pushing through the swinging doors to the dining room, and running directly into the chef, who was innocently making coffee in the server’s station.

“Yes…?” Greyson asked, putting a lid on his coffee and making his way past Elijah, back into the kitchen. The GM followed behind him, annoyed.

“Have you ordered anything for the dinner this Friday yet?”

Greyson raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were closed Friday?”

Elijah gave Greyson a look of complete exasperation. “Yes, we’re closed, Grey, but you remember why we’re closed, right?”

“Uh…” Greyson said, eyes darting towards the calendar. “...winter break for the staff?”

Elijah pursed his lips and closed his eyes; he took a deep breath, pressed his hands together, and readdressed the chef in an entirely too-calm tone. “Greyson. No. Not winter break for the staff.”

Greyson rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “You’re… out of town?”

“The cancer awareness dinner, Greyson, oh my fucking god,” Elijah slapped a hand on the desk beside them and Greyson cringed. “How could you forget this? The fuck is your problem? We’ve had it on the calendar for months.”

“Dude, I’m really sorry, it just slipped my mind! I’ll be ready, it’s only Monday, this shindig is in four days, I’ll order the stuff now,” Greyson said. He turned towards the desk and started rummaging through the mess of papers by his computer, before looking up at Elijah again, guiltily. “...did we send them a menu?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Greyson, yes we sent them a menu in September. Seriously, are you okay? How in the ever-living fuck could you forget such a huge event? I know you don’t want to do it, but fuck, Greyson, this is my restaurant and my reputation on the line!” Elijah couldn’t seem to ebb the anger now that it had started flowing. He slammed himself into his chair and pounded the computer keys until a PDF popped up – the menu they’d had approved three months earlier. Greyson visibly shrunk back.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I… now I remember. Shit, Lij, I’m so sorry, man.”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and pressed his fingers into his eyes before addressing the chef. “I’m asking in earnest this time,” he said, his voice small and controlled. “Are. You. Okay. Because you never forget shit like this.”

In hindsight, Greyson knew he shouldn’t have said it; he should’ve told Elijah that he’d put the dinner out of his head the moment he’d halfheartedly slapped together a menu and hoped that Elijah would do the same. He should’ve said that he’d hoped Matt would want to take it over, even though he knew Elijah would never let the sous chef take care of such a high-touch dinner. He should’ve said fucking aliens had abducted him and stolen that one piece of information from his mind, for fuck’s sake, anything other than what actually came out of his mouth.

“Actually, I uh… I haven’t been feeling great. Maybe I’m like, coming down with something?”

In what universe, a tiny voice in Greyson’s head whispered, is this a good idea?

Elijah’s face softened at the false admission. “Shit, Greyson, really? Why didn’t you tell me? What’s wrong?”

Greyson felt the guilt pool in his stomach the moment Elijah’s voice turned to one of concern. Shit. “Uh, I mean, it’s probably nothing. Just like a, uh…sore throat and headache. Just not feeling 100% myself. I’ll be good, just, y’know… a little foggy. But I promise, I’ll order the stuff now and make sure I have cooks for this weekend, okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to forget.” At least only half of that was a lie, Greyson thought to himself, grimacing. He and Elijah never lied to each other – as a rule.

Elijah sighed. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he said, “and I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. Did you take something?” Greyson nodded, the guilt pool in his gut growing larger. “Okay,” Elijah said. “Just… I mean, let me know if it gets worse, okay? Take it easy today. I’ll close the books.”

Greyson nodded as his boss stood and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, a swallow that probably looked painful, and Elijah winced in sympathy. You fucking asshole, Greyson chastised himself. “I’m good, boss. Thanks, though.”

Elijah gave the chef a small smile and headed out to the dining room to talk to the host. Greyson let out a little ‘fuck’ and sat down to call purveyors. Why would he say that? If there was one thing Elijah was sympathetic of, it was illness. Greyson had essentially phoned in sympathy points because he didn’t want to be yelled at. What was he, a child?

Greyson tried to shake it off; maybe Elijah would forget the fake-sickness in lieu of the big event this weekend. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal at all. The chef put his head down and called the first purveyor, made an excel sheet, began preparing for the dinner he desperately did not want to do.

He was so wrapped up in preparations, he didn’t see Elijah sneak in to the office; didn’t see him stealthily switch out his coffee cup, or leave just as quick as he’d come in. He didn’t notice until he lifted the cup, took a big swig – and swallowed down a hard lump of guilt with the lemon tea Elijah had brought him. Oh, fuck, Greyson thought, placing his head in his hand. This is not going to end well.

***

The shift felt long.

“Get some rest, okay?” Elijah said to Greyson as the chef packed up his bag. “We need you at 100% for Friday.”

Greyson nodded, somber, and hiked his backpack onto his back. “You got it, boss,” he said; he’d been a man of very few words tonight, which didn’t help the long shift feel any shorter. “I’ll be all good tomorrow. Promise.”

Elijah gave his friend a small smile and nodded back. “See you in the morning,” he said, and Greyson gave a wave behind his head as he walked out the door. Once the chef was out of earshot, Elijah sighed.

He wouldn’t deny the fact that he was worried. Greyson was the king of pushing through illness, but he had a tendency to push himself too hard too quickly, and end up absolutely destroyed a few days into whatever ailment he was fighting. Elijah wanted to make sure that didn’t happen this time; all day, he’d tried to keep Greyson seated if possible, to keep him hydrated, to bring him lozenges and Dayquil and make him ingest them. Care-taking was far from his strong suit, but today he’d really tried; not only to keep Greyson from careening into a worse illness, but to make up for the fact that he’d yelled at him. That had been uncalled for, and he felt like an ass.

An hour or so after the kitchen staff had departed, the final server closed out her check and brought Elijah her paperwork. He finished filling everything out, filed the daily report, and shut off the harsh kitchen light. As he waved the last server goodbye, he found himself thinking, I need a drink. It wasn’t something he did often, but occasionally he’d stop by the club three doors down for a beer and the possibility of spending the night with a real person instead of a glass of whiskey and late-night talk shows. Tonight, when he didn’t have the option of grabbing a burger with Greyson – his only real friend, if he was being honest – at the dive bar, felt like a perfect night to scout for some booze and a warm body to fall asleep next to.

Elijah pulled his jacket on, locked the back door of the restaurant, and set out for the club. The air was frigid this evening; he huddled further into his jacket and upped his pace, reaching the front door of Zed in record-time. He was practically salivating at the thought of a neat whiskey as he yanked open the heavy door – fuck the beer. Let’s get right to the good stuff.

The club was full, but not packed, and Elijah managed to get a seat at the bar – rare here, especially since the club’s bar was tiny by design. They wanted you on the dance floor, mingling, sweating, working up a thirst for another, and another, and -

“Can I get another double Maker’s?” Elijah’s ears perked up at the sound of someone ordering over his head; if there was one voice he knew for certain, it was that one. The GM turned slowly around and to his left – oh, you mother fucker.

“Greyson?” Elijah called over the thump of electronic music. From about a yard away, Greyson’s head snapped around, searching for the voice that said his name. When he and Elijah locked eyes, Elijah noticed he was sweating and panting – and certainly not from any feigned fever.

“Oh… fuck,” Greyson said, obviously too drunk to realize how loud he was being. “Oh, shit. Fuck. Lij, I -”

Elijah shook his head. “I see you’re… feeling better,” he called over the heads of the people seated next to him. “Asshole.”

Greyson couldn’t seem to form words after that, and the bartender interrupted him anyway by placing a full glass of whiskey on the bartop. “Name on the card?” the bartender asked. Before Greyson could answer, Elijah called out to the bartender.

“Put it on me,” he said, and the bartender nodded before moving to help another guest. Greyson stood, seemingly stuck in place, before taking a tentative step towards his boss. Elijah put a hand up, as though to say stop right there. “No need to thank me, chef,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Enjoy your… medicine.”

Elijah slapped a fifty on the bartop in front of him. He drained his whiskey, slammed down the glass, and breezed past Greyson, his face flaming with embarrassment. What an ass he was, not realizing he’d been played. What a complete moron.

“Elijah, wait -” he heard Greyson call behind him – but he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Without looking back, Elijah pushed open the door and immediately hailed a cab outside. When Greyson finally made it past the throngs of people and into the street, Elijah was long gone.

***

To say the next few days were awkward would be the understatement of the century.

The morning after the club, Greyson had barreled into the office, spewing apology after apology before Elijah could even say hello. The GM had accepted, albeit coldly, and hadn’t mentioned it for the remainder of the day. He hadn’t mentioned much of anything, truly, and when the shift ended Elijah walked out without saying goodbye, leaving Mark to close the restaurant down.

“What did you do?” Mark had asked Greyson when their boss had departed. Greyson just shook his head.

“I fucked up,” he said. Mark snorted.

“Clearly.”

The next day had continued in the same fashion; Elijah giving Greyson the cold shoulder, Greyson attempting to apologize in every way he could think of. They barely spoke Thursday, as well – and by then, Greyson was starting to worry that they’d never speak again.

“He’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Mark promised when Elijah walked out for the third night in a row without saying goodbye. “He can only hold a grudge for seventy-two hours, max.”

Greyson wasn’t so sure. He’d never seen Elijah this mad before, not even when Greyson had fucked up and only bought two tenderloins for a party that requested nothing but steak in his first month of working together. Plus, Greyson was dealing with a bit of a sticky situation – a situation that he was sure would make Elijah ten times angrier at him. A situation that literally could not have arisen at a worse time.

“Hhh...hhNGTSH-zue! HTSHH-ue! NGTZSHUE!”

“Bless,” Mark said, distractedly, his eyes trained on the computer monitor in front of him. “You feeling okay?”

He wasn’t. He’d woken up that morning with his throat sticky, and his head pounding. Instant karma, he’d thought as he chugged tea in place of his usual coffee. When he remembered the tea Elijah made for him a few days before – a gentle kindness, a peace offering, a showing of care for someone who’d blatantly lied to his face – his stomach soured. Greyson had dumped the tea down the drain and forced himself to chug an energy drink instead; the bubbles made him cough until his ribs were sore.

“I’m good,” Greyson said, stealthily managing to keep the congestion out of his voice. “Allergies.”

Mark turned to the chef, an eyebrow raised. “It’s December,” he said.

“Right,” Greyson answered, though it wasn’t an answer at all. “Yeah, it is.”

The event was tomorrow; Elijah had spoken to Greyson long enough to remind him that they needed to be in the van by three PM for a six PM call time at the banquet hall. Greyson had said he knew, had said he’d be in at ten to get everything finished and packed and make sure Matt was well-versed on their menu, as he was the second set of hands Greyson would need to plate up. Elijah had nodded, obviously done with the conversation, and that had been that.

“Alright, Chef, I’m out of here,” Mark said, snapping Greyson back to reality. “You need anything before I go?”

Greyson shook his head. “Thangks, Mark,” he said, internally cursing the congestion that had wormed its way into his voice. Mark pursed his lips.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get some sleep, Chef.”

A parroting of Elijah’s sentiment at the beginning of the week; a mockery. One that Greyson most certainly deserved.

***

When Elijah got in the morning of the event, Greyson was already in the prep kitchen tightly wrapping his food for the evening and briefing Matt on the menu. The GM sighed; it was finally time.

“Chef,” Elijah said, knocking politely on the wall. Matt and Greyson looked up, surprised, and gave their boss matching smiles.

“Morning, boss,” Greyson said, his voice low. Something seemed… off, but Elijah couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I just wanted to say, I accept your apology,” Elijah said. “Thanks for letting me sulk the past few days.”

Greyson raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Thanks, boss,” he said, simply. “I appreciate it. Sorry againd.”

Elijah nodded back and made his way towards the dining room to begin packing up dishware for the dinner. Something was weird about Greyson today; he’d really expected a bit more fanfare when he’d announced his acceptance. A bit more gushing, maybe a signature Greyson pick-you-up-off-the-ground hug – but he got none of it. If anything, Greyson seemed more reserved than Elijah had been in the days leading up to the dinner. Maybe he was angry that Elijah had held the grudge for so long – though that didn’t seem like Greyson in the slightest.

He decided to drop it; most likely, he was putting weight on a situation that required none. Elijah finished packing the dishes into milk crates, and headed back into the kitchen to ask Greyson and Matt for help loading them in the van.

“Grey?” Elijah called into the kitchen. “Matt? Can you guys come give me a ha -”

“HNGTSSHHH-ue! HTSHZUE! NGTSH! Huh-! Huhh...HUHESTZHUE!”

He wasn’t cut off, because Greyson clearly hadn’t heard him speaking before unleashing a seemingly-unending volley of sneezes. Elijah’s heart first sunk deep into the pit that was his stomach – and then his face flamed with an anger he hadn’t expected.

“Oh, you’re shitting me,” he muttered, stomping his way into the back kitchen. “You are absolutely fucking kidding.”

Greyson, who was posted up at the sink blowing his nose, nearly jumped when he saw Elijah storm into the prep kitchen. “Christ,” he said, trying to nonchalantly throw the paper towel he was holding away, “give a guy a heart attack.”

“Is this some kind of joke to you, Greyson?” Elijah asked, crossing his arms. Greyson sniffled, rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for Elijah to continue his diatribe.

“Is… what a joke?” Greyson asked when he realized he wasn’t getting any more context clues from his boss. Elijah huffed out an angry laugh.

“You’re trying to fuck with me. Right? You’re trying to make me look like an ass, see if I’ll once again feed into your weird little game.” Elijah was practically snorting with anger; he couldn’t help it. Fool me once, and all that.

“Lij,” Greyson said, holding his hands up as though to surrender, “I… I don’t kndow what you’re talking about.” Elijah laughed – a mean, ringing sound.

“I get it; you’re making a point. You don’t want to do this event and you never have. Well, Greyson, it’s too fucking late now, so just stop. I’m not in the mood for whatever fucking ruse you and your little minion have up your sleeves. So get rid of whatever it is you’re using to make yourself sneeze – we get it, ha ha, Elijah’s a moron, so goddamn funny – and cut it out. In fact, hand it over. Clearly you’re too much of a fucking child to know when enough is enough.” Elijah held out his hand, waiting on Greyson or Matt to fess up and slap a pepper mill or something into his hand, but neither of them stirred. After an awkward moment of the three of them standing, all waiting for something to happen, Matt cleared his throat.

“Um…” he said, “I… I don’t know what’s going on here, but we don’t, like… have anything.”

Elijah threw the sous chef a dirty look, then looked back to Greyson. “You’ve got him trained well,” he said, not giving it up. Greyson opened his mouth to say something, but his face collapsed before the words could make it to his mouth. He crumpled to the side and used an elbow to cover his mouth.

“HRRTSHH-uh! Huh...huhhNGTSHH-ue! ITZSCHUE! Huh! Hhh…” Greyson didn’t allow himself the luxury of waiting on the last sneeze to make its appearance; instead, he pinched his nose to ebb the fit and coughed into his palm – a hacking, congested sound. Elijah’s anger dried as quickly as rain in the Sahara desert – oh, fuck.

“Oh… fuck,” Elijah muttered as Greyson grabbed another handful of paper towels to blow his nose into. “You’re… you’re not actually sick, are you?”

Matt started to answer for him, but Greyson cut his sous off. “Ndo,” he said, curtly. “Allergies or sombething. Ndot tryigg to fuck with you. Sorry, Lij.” He finished with another painful-sounding cough, while behind him Matt shook his head, eyes wide; a silent miming of he’s sick as a dog.

Before Elijah could say anything else, Greyson tossed the paper towels and headed out towards the dining room. “Were you sayigg you ndeed help with plates?” he asked, wiping a hand under his nose and swallowing painfully. Elijah, unsure of how to handle this situation, simply deflated, a balloon in the harsh summer sun.

“Um. Yes,” he said, following behind Greyson. “Yeah, I… help would be great.”

Greyson nodded, turned, and headed to grab the plates. Elijah held back, and turned to Matt.

“He actually has a cold now, doesn’t he?” he asked, though it was soft enough to not know if it was to Matt or himself. Matt shook his head.

“No,” he said, giving Elijah a disapproving look. “It’s definitely not a cold.”

With that, the sous followed behind his boss, side chosen – leaving Elijah standing stalwart in the back of the kitchen. This, he thought to himself, is not going to end well.

***

If he was being honest, Greyson wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this dinner.

At the beginning of the day, he’d been fairly sure he could hold it together; sure, his throat was on fire, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Yes, he was stuffed up to the gills and every little movement triggered another sneeze fit. But he hadn’t had a fever, and he’d been plying himself with cold meds, so everything had been fine.

...that is, until the Elijah-explosion.

Things had gone downhill quickly after Elijah’s screaming fit. Greyson started attempting to hold back all of his sneezes and coughs, resulting in a headache that made his eyes feel like two swollen golf balls lodged inside a too-small head. He’d stopped pounding ibuprofen, cough syrup, and dayquil after Elijah’s freak-out, too; didn’t want to seem like he was egging his boss on. Now that they had arrived at the event, he had a new problem: it was incredibly difficult to medicate in a banquet hall filled with stuffy, old assholes.

“Mbatt, is that everythi – NGTSH! TSH! HTSH! Huh - ! HRSSH-uhh!” Greyson tried desperately to hold back yet another string of sneezes, to no avail. Whatever shit he’d picked up was persistent; persistent and fucking annoying.

“Yes, Chef,” Matt said, giving his boss a pointed look. Greyson meant to return the look, but instead sunk down below their prep station to cough into his sleeve. From the ground, he heard Matt sigh – then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bottle of cough syrup in his sous’ hand. Without thinking, Greyson snatched it and chugged.

“Chef,” Matt said, quietly, “we’re all set here. Just waiting on people to arrive – why don’t you go have a cigarette or something?”

The last thing Greyson wanted with this bitch of a cough was a cigarette, but he nodded anyway; he knew Matt. He knew what he meant was go outside and collect yourself, you’re in for a long night.

“Thanks,” Greyson muttered, standing. “I’ll be back ind ten.”

“Take your time,” Matt insisted.

Greyson stumbled out of the building, clutching his chef’s coat close to his body; he’d left his jacket in the car, but he desperately needed some air. Fortunately or unfortunately, he’d already caught his death; no need to worry about the cold infecting him further.

Whether it was luck or just the fact that it was too cold for anyone else to dare venture outside, he couldn’t be sure, but either way he was glad to see that no one else was in the courtyard when he pushed through the heavy banquet doors. Greyson sat heavily on a bench arms wrapped around his middle, and took a few deep breaths. On second thought, he found himself thinking, maybe a cigarette does sound nice.

The chef pulled his pack and lighter out of his jeans and brought the cigarette to his mouth with a shaking hand. It took a few clicks to light it; once it was finally lit, he only got one good pull before he heard the door open noisily behind him.

“Are you seriously smoking?”

Elijah.

Greyson turned around, sluggish, and gave his boss a coy you-caught-me smile. “Addiction’s a hell of a thigg,” he said, turning to cough once again. “You wandt one?”

Elijah sighed, clearly thinking twice, but ultimately nodded and sat next to Greyson. The chef handed him the pack and the lighter.

“If you wandt it today, trust mbe you don’t wandt mbe lighting it,” Greyson joked, holding up a shaking hand as proof. Elijah bit his cheek, then slid out of his heavy outer coat and placed it over Greyson’s shoulders. Greyson went to protest, but Elijah held up his hand.

“You need it,” he said, taking the lighter and producing a flame immediately. “Just as much as you don’t need that,” he pointed to the stick between his friend’s fingers, but didn’t go to grab it.

“Yeah,” Greyson said, “you’re probably right.”

They sat in an awkward silence after that, punctuated only by Greyson’s coughs and sniffles; a game of chicken neither of them seemed keen on losing. Finally, Elijah finished his cigarette and stomped it out beneath his foot. He stood, and turned to regard Greyson.

“Thank you,” he said, holding out a hand. Greyson gave his boss a look, then took his hand and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet.

“Dond’t mbention it,” Greyson said, sniffling. He tried to hold the eye contact Elijah was giving him, but his nose seemed to have other plans. “Huh! HuhhhETSHHZUE!” Greyson sneezed, hard, into the sleeve of Elijah’s coat, then groaned when he realized what he’d done.

“Bless,” Elijah said, apparently unfazed by the coat’s untimely demise. Greyson nodded, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, and sniffled. “Grey, I’m -”

“Please dond’t say it,” Greyson said, holding a hand up. “Please. I’mb the boy who cried wolf, y’kndow? Instant karma. I did this to mbyself.” He rubbed a tired eye, attempted a light cough, then dissolved into a full-on coughing fit.

“Christ, Greyson,” Elijah said, patting the chef on the back. “That sounds fucking awful.”

“Weird,” Greyson said once he’d composed himself. “Because it honestly feel ambazigg.”

“Seriously?”

“Ndo. Ndo, I feel like I’mb going to keel over at any second.”

Elijah couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. Greyson laughed, too; tension broken. They caught each other’s eyes, and burst out laughing once again; friends once more.

“I’m sorry you’re sick,” Elijah said. “And I’m sorry about this event. You’re right; these people suck ass.”

“Mbost people do,” Greyson said, chuckling. “I’mb sorry for being such a dick about this dinner, though. And forgetting. And pretending to be sick.”

“And then actually getting sick,” Elijah finished for him. Greyson smiled.

“And that,” he said. Elijah shrugged, gave a short little laugh.

“Very typical ‘us’,” he said, looking through the window into the banquet hall. Greyson nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing. “You ready to get this shit over with?”

Elijah smiled. “Yes, Chef,” he said. Greyson laughed, which dissolved once more into a crackly cough. “Then let’s get you to bed.”

Greyson nodded, a hand pressed into one of his aching eyes. “Boss,” he said, “You read mby mbind.”

The two men headed back inside and took their places. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d do an event with one of them on the brink of death, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last; that was the way of this industry. Greyson sucked down some more cold medicine, Elijah fixed the table settings, and Matt gleaned that all had somehow been forgiven and visibly relaxed. Just another night. The show must go on.

#snz #snzfic #sickfic #coldfic #male snz #male sneeze #whiskeyswriting #sick #coughing #illness #if you made it to the end of this behemoth i bestow upon you all the gratefulness in my heart and a single gold star

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romeulusroy · 1 year

Text

Numen (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman

Word Count: 1,299

Requested: Can you do Roman with the “I’m in love with my best friend ” trope, but there’s a boyfriend or whoever is in the way, with a happy ending? - anon

Inspired By: Born To Die by Lana Del Ray

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Am I so nervous I want to barf? Perhaps lol. I miss my old writing style, so I'm trying it out again. Is it any good? I think so. I really love it. Will you? I hope so. It's heavily inspired by the songs which I love. I'd love to know what you think my loves!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You used to think He could save you. That He was your salvation, your savior, your God. That if you prayed, if you repent, if you bow to your knees till they bleed that you might be worthy enough for Him. He liked the gruesome way your spine bent as you prayed, the spokes sharp, bloody. All of them, your whole life, spent their every waking breath berating you. Your posture, your mind, your beauty. Too little, too much. He was perfection, proof of God, Godlike in his own right. He was powerful and pretty and he knew it. He knew that a moment of His attention would keep them calling. Pews filled so that they might hear His word, so that they might stand in His light. You thought if you shared in that light, if you basked in the glow, then you might be holy. You might be worthy. Divine. It’s been years now, those rosary beads around your neck like a string of pearls. The burning cross embedded in your skin where they cannot see, for His eyes only. You sleep between hymns, exhausted, stuck, unsure of who you are without His wisdom, wondering how you got so lost in the first place. This is not a happy marriage. This is not a religion or a calling, it is a trap. It has been from the very beginning. The halo He wears is a cheap knockoff. Faux. His bible is full of false numbers and a god complex, an inflated ego. You plead to Him every night, but He rarely listens. To them, His fans, the men and women who throw themselves on to him, they are His people. They are His angels. His disciples. You have spent your entire relationship doting on him, preserving his happiness, his every word, and yet you still aren’t enough. You are a mere mortal. You always have been. There is no eternity between you. You were born to die.

He sees you again, for the first time in a long time. You’ve got this light about you, this gentleness. Every move, every word, out of a film. Out of the bible. Your laugh is proof of divinity. As if no time has passed. Your Roman, those big puppy-dog eyes speckled with gold, with joy. You’re not sure how you wander away from Him, not that He seems to notice, but his grasp around your hand loosense. He speaks sweetly to someone far younger, someone looking for a philosopher to worship. Your arms find their way around Roman. He doesn’t shrink away as he does to so many others. He does not flinch or wince or limp like a wounded animal. He finds his place with you, in your golden aura, holding you so tight, holding his own breath. The drink in his hand remains unsteady, shaking, but only out of excitement, out of relief. If you could remain that way for the rest of time you would. You are the first to pull away, then close again, needing him, needing this. He smells the same. Crème vanille. Sickeningly sweet, sugary. Familiar. Nostalgic. Your head finds his shoulder and everyone else in the house has disappeared. Only you and him, how it should have always been. He is blushing now, just like he did when you were kids.

You don’t say anything for a while, instead leading him through the crowd out towards the balcony. They are only here for him anyways. You have never mattered to them, his followers. You are an obstacle, you are a burden, a non-believer, something in their way of gaining true enlightenment. He follows obediently, taking in your home. Grand, creme colored, dull. None of it feels like a home. None of it feels like a place you could grow old. He will never grow old. His looks have barely changed since you met. They are infinite. You can see the lines around your eyes deepen already. Oh well. You take his glass and sip from it, a habit you have yet to break from childhood. He is full of questions. How many years has it been since you’ve seen one another? Too many, you think, though he has yet to change. You smile despite yourself. Your first love, your mortal friend, here beside you, looking at you, taking you all in, as if you are an angel before him. No one has looked at you like this in a long time. You want to soak it in.You grow shy in his presence, thirteen again, afraid to show him your scars before he showed you his. Matching childhoods. Matching neglect. This was something He could never understand. The slam of a door, the cold silence, the cruel way He looks at you, much like your father, like his. He has lived lifetimes before you and will long after you. You are a moment in his story, a name, but not for long. To Roman, you are everything. You are the whole religion.

You catch yourself laughing, really laughing, your hands on his chest. It’s an odd sound to hear after so long. Foreign. He is all nervous smiles and fond eyes. He never takes them off you. Not when He makes a toast with one of them at his side, where you should be, drunken hands wandering where they shouldn’t. Not when He disappears. Not when He is in your bed with them. You tell him everything. Every secret, every shame, every single thing despite it being sacreligious. He doesn’t know what to say. Neither do you. What have you done? You can feel it already, their wrath. Not only his followers, his disciples, but your blood as well. How furious they’d be if they knew what you were doing, who you were turning to. You excuse yourself, but he grabs on to you, his grip fierce, the expression on his face serious, dark. He can’t let you go. Not now, not ever again. He could be a God, but god could he give you all the happiness you ever deserved. He could give you the life you always wanted. Not the begging, the pleading, the fighting. No more screaming. No more mass. No more eyes following, criticizing, scrutinizing. A home full of laughter, of memories, of a love you haven’t felt since you last saw him. This? What was this? A fancy house, with fancy strangers and bad booze. It was clear from the moment he saw you: you were miserable.

Trapped. The ring burns around your finger, a reminder. You promised yourself to Him, and He did the same, but only one of you has followed through with those vows. I can’t, you say. You can’t leave him. You can’t leave this life. This coven. You have flown too close to the sun. to leave would be admitting defeat. You already have, he says, and you realize he’s right. Years you spent devoted to Him, your marriage, your future. He never intended for there to be a future. He never wanted you in the first place. Deals were made, arrangements decided, a ring from His grandmother. You were nothing more than a signature on a contract, a sum of money, an adopted surname. You converted. You sang every song and worshiped every stupid fucking word and still you were not good enough. Still he chooses them over you. Still you are the imperfect child your father hated, the same broken person Roman has spent every day since you met loving. Falling for you over and over again. If you don’t go with him now, if you don’t leave Him, you will never get the chance to again. You will never leave. You have to. How can you say no to him?

#requeested #writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy oneshot #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #succession oneshot

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sinsandsuccubus · 2 years

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I have a request. Jack and Urban get into a fight and he’s annoyed, pissed even and so you defend him. He gets turned on and you bone in the tour bus lol

Team Defense - Jack Harlow

Context: “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

Warnings: 18+ ! Sexual activity.

Pairings: Jack Harlow X Fem!Reader ; Urban Wyatt X Platonic!Reader

A/N: shout out to @creme-delacreme for the help.

Please DO NOT ENGAGE if not older stated age. Reader’s discretion is advised. I am not responsible if YOU CHOOSE to continue.

Masterlist ☽☾

☽ ☾

“Urban, I’m trying to put this in a nice way, but you’re slacking here.”

“Dude, I’m doing the best I can. What the fuck else do you want me to do?”

The tour bus was empty, just you, Jack and Urban chilling out while the other members of the team moved on with their needed agendas. Jack and Urban had decided to take to the tour bus to look at some photos that Urban had taken while they were traveling.

Recently however, Urban had been falling off, his work clearly not his best. This was, from what could be assumed, due to the fact that his recent hook up had gotten unhooked. And he wasn’t have that shit, at all.

“I don’t know Urb, maybe do your job correctly?!” Jack announced, his voice slowly escalating.

“Shut the fuck up Jack, you wouldn’t know anything about taking photos. All you know is how to sit there and be the pretty boy the industry wants!” Urban responded, his voice matching Jack’s as he stood up to look down at him.

Jack immediately rose to his feet, getting on eye level with his best friend.

“Really Urb? Really?! You know, ever since that bitch dropped you, you’ve been a real fuckin ass and I’m sick of it.”

“Sick of it?” Urban chuckled, stepping to Jack. The two grew closer, basically in one another’s faces.

You had heard the beginning of the argument but decided to remain silent, letting them handle their own business. However, it was when you heard scuffling that you decided to rise from your seated position in the booth and moved to where the two were arguing towards the back of the bus.

At that point, Urban had pushed Jack away from him, anger in his eyes.

“I’ve been following you around this whole time on your career path, and you want to say you’re “sick of it?” I’m sick of you and your fucking egotistic ass.” It was then that you decided to step in.

“Urban, Jack, calm down. Y’all can talk this out.” You tried to reason.

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do Y/N. Stay out of grown folk's business.” Before Jack could even go to defend you, you took it upon yourself.

“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to Urban,” You took the time to look around the bus to emphasize your point.

“But it surely ain’t fuckin me. Jack’s right. Ever since that bitch moved on from you, you’ve been walking around acting like a fucking dickhead, when we all knew that bitch was nothing but a fuckin bum. You and Jack were in this together since y’all were fuckin kids. If anything you’re fuckin dick riding on his career because you wouldn’t be anywhere if Jack hadn’t brought you along with PG. So really, you should be fucking grateful for Jack, especially since he’s been looking out for you, but yo stupid ass got your head in your ass and can’t get it the fuck out. So I suggest you do before you end up doing and saying some shit that’ll fuck up this relationship.” You spoke, stepping to Urban. Despite your height difference, he knew you meant business and what the fuck you said.

“Y/N…” Urban attempted to speak.

“No, don’t say shit to me. The fact that you stepped to your bestfriend like you’re about it really shows where your head is at. And the fact that you even spoke to me that way, knowing damn well I ain’t do shit to you tells me that you need to get your shit together. So Fix-it-Felix, cause this shit ain’t fuckin working. Got it?” You looked at him, anger written all over your face.

Jack stood there in shock, not because you held your ground, no he knew you could do that, but at the fact that you did it not just on your behalf but on his. He found it extremely hot.

He was bricked up.

After taking in your angered face, Urban took a step back from you, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door of the bus.

“I’ll check you guys later.” He spoke, avoiding eye contact with both of you.

“Don’t come back till you get some fuckin sense Urb.” You spoke before the door shut, letting out a loud huff. You turned to Jack, shaking your head as you walked toward him.

“Are you okay baby? What he said was fucked up, sounds like some insecure shit.” You spoke, looking up at Jack, the anger dissipating in your face.

He looked at you with lustful eyes, placing his warm palms on your face.

“Oh, I’m fine ma. But I do have a problem.” He spoke, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks.

“What’s wrong babe?” You spoke, tilting your head. He took your hand and moved it towards his crotch, pressing it to his hard-on.

“Oh…” You spoke, looking at Jack again.

“Did this- Did me defending you turn you on?” You questioned.

“Fuck ma, it did. It was so fucking hot, the way you stood there and made him take it, fuck.” He spoke, forcing your hand to palm at his dick.

“Oh, you’re really turned on from this.”

“Yeah, did you think I was lying? Shit ma.” He grunted out, moaning as you slipped your hands into his pants and boxers, stroking him further. He became putty in your hand, allowing you to push him onto the couch, straddling him.

You began kissing and licking at his neck, soft grunts and puffs of air leaving his lips, your cunt clenching around nothing.

He forced your hips to grind onto him with his hands, moving his face to indulge you in an intense make-out session.

“Fuck baby, need you. Right here, right now.” He groaned, lifting you off his waist to tug at his pants. You quickly moved off him, pulling down yours as well as your underwear to make a pool at your feet.

Immediately Jack grabbed at your hips pulling you to hover over his dick.

He pulled you down, your walls slowly sinking on and grasping at him, for-fronting a deep moan from the two of you. Jack began thrusting almost immediately, your body leaning forward to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Shit ma, fuck.” You whined in response, Jack immediately finding that spot to make you keen.

“Fuck yes, Jack, baby, fuck. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t pretty girl, you feel too good, fuck.”

The sounds of skin slapping filled the air as you began to meet his thrusts, grabbing onto the back of his neck and curls, meeting his lips with a sensual kiss.

You moaned into one another’s mouth, tongues battling for dominance as you reached your peak.

“Baby… I’m getting close.”

“Cum for me. Cum all over me princess, give it to me.” To which you came hard with a grunt, your thighs shaking as your walls clenched and trembled around him.

“Shit!” Jack moaned out before filling you up with his seed, moving to your neck to leave light kisses.

“That was so hot ma.” You laughed at his comment, moving to kiss his lips once more.

“I’ll always defend you, baby. No matter what. Unless it’s controversial and damn right stupid, then you’ll end up like Urban.”

“I’d probably get bricked up from you yelling at me too, shit.”

Before you could comment, the sound of the door opening echoed the room, you and Jack scrambling to pull yourselves together.

“Y’all done fucking in here? Urb wants to talk to you, Jack. Oh, and you too Y/N.” You heard Neelam announce before the door shut.

You looked at Jack as you mixed yourself, nodding at each other’s proper appearances and signaling to head off the bus.

Urban was sitting on the ground outside in the shade, twiddling his fingers nervously.

You and Jack sat down across from him, forcing his head to look up.

“First, I want to apologize to you Jack. I know I’ve been slacking, it’s just…” he paused.

“That shit with that chick fucked me up man. One minute I thought we were good, next thing I know, she’s dismissing us over texts as if nothing happened. What she said to me.. was fucked up. But I should have never taken that out on you, and for that I’m sorry.” Urban announced, his eyes sincere.

“Did you mean anything you said?” Jack asked, his tone soft.

“Fuck no. Okay, sometimes you’re a little egotistic, but still! I love you bro, and I’d follow you anywhere. We wanted this since we were kids, I ain’t goin nowhere.”

“Good.” Jack said as he moved to shake Urban’s hand, doing their handshake.

“And Y/N, I’m sorry I stepped to you like that. That was totally uncalled for. You’re right, you didn’t do anything to me, and it was pretty fucked up for me to even come at you knowing damn well all you want is the best for me. I’m truly sorry.”

“I know Urby.” You nodded, smiling and leaning to kiss his cheek.

“But if you ever do that shit again, I’m reading you for filth.” At your statement, Urban threw up his hands in defense.

“Yes ma’am.”

#jack harlow imagines #bf! jack harlow #jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fanfic #urban wyatt x reader

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localravenclaw · 10 months

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hi hello ! i'm a somewhat new follower and just as new to the hogwarts legacy crew on tumblr, but i wanted to see if you had any grade a fanfics you would recommend for someone who isn't a huge fan of long stories? like oneshots and/or multichapter stories under 10 chapters? nsfw/sfw are all perfectly fine to me also! thank you in advance, i positively adore your blog and everything you post so i trust your opinion on these matters right off the bat 🖤🖤

Hi friend! ♡

Welcome to the family! I hope you're having fun in our little community! 😁💕 And thank you so much for your kind words! Uhuhu... I am so flattered that you'd even consider my opinion on anything! 😭🙈

Sorry it took me a while to respond, I wanted to think about which ones to recommend because there's so many good ones and I just can't cover them all. Like, do you prefer ×Reader fics or with OC's? Personally, I prefer my reads to be as immersive as possible, so my list will lean more on the former. ✌🏻😅

If you like beautifully-written one shots, @applinsandoranges and @spaceyaceface both have an incredible portfolio of fluff, angst and serotonin-inducing short fics. Like, I can't choose. You're gonna have to see for yourself, but boy, you're in for a treat!

@sebastianswallows is also another favourite of mine. She has both series and one-shots that are just exquisitely written.

@awkwardauthorwrites' 2-parter Wildest Dreams is probably one of the best things you could ever read, like, I don't know where to start with this one. It just gives me all the feels! 😭💖

And of course, @arthenaa, my darling, my baby, my little writing genius, has a must-read titled Histoire de Toi et Moi that is just 😘👌🏻

(Also, please read both Carnal and Insatiable from her list, like, I'm not kidding. Read it!)

If you're looking for The Best, creme dela creme of one-shot spicy fics, @anto-pops, @cuffmeinblack and @twitchydownfall will forever have my heart. Like, trust me on this, okay?

I wanna add so much more to this list because there's still so many authors I haven't even mentioned like @seabass-swallows @ravenelyx @eggymf @killedbythehuntress @greedyforgarreth @finalgirllx and oh god I'm sure I've missed so many.

Please don't hesitate to chat me up if you wanna scream about any of the fics from above authors. I know exactly how it feels lol. Enjoy your fic marathon, friend! 😘💕

#ari answers #i'm so sleepy this whole probably doesn't make any sense

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channel-swimmer · 7 months

Text

A totally normal post... JUST KIDDING, ITS LOL CREME TIME !!!

#lol creme #10cc #eric stewart #kevin godley #graham gouldman #godley and creme #godley & creme

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 5 months

Note

Quick! Name your fav unfinished/abandoned fanfics. Maybe shouting their names into the void will bring them back like some kind of Beetlejuice situation.

(A gal can dream lol)

Cool ask!! You didn't ask me to specify a fandom, so I didn't. As I've been going through my bookmarks, tagging them and sorting them into the correct collections, I've noticed several unfinished that I miss. Please do not judge how incredibly insanely varied my tastes are. If an author had a tumblr, I tagged it. Please note this list is heavily influenced by nostalgia:

At the Office by wolfqueen1015 , 62/70 chapters, The 100, multiship (but I read it for linctavia (Lincoln/Octavia Blake)), last updated 2/22/2021.

As a linctavia shipper, I actually did not care if Clarke was with Bellamy or Lexa, and read many a fic I enjoyed that went either way for side linctavia. (I will sincerely apologize for that @catthestral497). This is a bellarke fic, beware. It's just a silly stupid social media fic that I found really funny in 10th grade, and I actually think is still funny. I want my last eight chapters.

operation braven by orphan_account , 19/? chapters, The 100, multiship (but I read it for linctavia (Lincoln/Octavia Blake)), last updated 7/3/2018.

It's my honest prerogative to say The 100 is a bad show, it's really not good, but I have read this fanfiction all the way through at least five times and some of it lives in my brain in place of childhood memories. Again, it's a silly social media fic but it's so funny, I miss it.

Infinite Variations by Someone_else_before , 17/? chapters, Stranger Things, mileven (Mike Wheeler/Eleven), last updated 1/1/2018.

My guilty pleasure for so so long has been 2016 post season one Stranger Things fics. I think they have infinitely cooler plotlines than the actual show. This is slightly different, it's a full season one rewrite where the Demogorgan never comes and never takes Will, and Eleven and Mike meet through dreams. I could die to find out how this fic ends, it's been like six years.

Perry the Evil-Adjacent Boyfriend series by Kereea , 15/? works, Phineas and Ferb, perryshmirtz (Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus), last updated 8/29/2020.

STAY WITH ME ON THIS. Me and my roommate decided to explore this tag as a joke (highly recommend), and I stumbled upon this?? Incredibly sweet and wholesome gem?? Anyways its about a human Perry who quits OWCA and adopts the kids after his brother Lawrence and Lawrence's wife Linda die in a car accident (insane premise) and then him and Doof raise the kids with Vanessa? It's literally so wholesome and cute and family friendly, god I love this fic I have to go read it again I wish there was more.

New Elysium by Cloud_Nine , 16/? chapters, The Walking Dead, multiship (but I read it for gleggie (Glenn Rhee/Maggie Greene) and richonne (Rick Grimes/Michonne)) last updated 3/21/2021.

This fanfiction. Lives with me almost every day, I am FURIOUS that there isn't more of it. This is a fic about the members of Rick's group waking up before the apocalypse began but some have their memories of the events to come, so they start gathering, finding each other, and setting up the best location to hunker down. I just for some reason could spend hours reading about their little house mission and the seeds and working on getting generators to the farm, god, the tension of the time ticking down gets me.

New Chat Created: North Island Daggers by Comin2U , 24/24 (now marked complete), Top Gun movies, multiship (but I read it for icemav (Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell) and a lil for the hangster (Jake "Hangman" Seresin/Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw), last updated 7/29/2022.

This fic, ohohoho. By now you all know I love a social media au, a text fic, anything of the sort. But this fic is creme of the crop of any social media au. It's just so magnificent. It's my fav thing ever, which is found family, and involves my two favorite things to see in a Top Gun fic; icemav adopting the dagger squad post mission, and also the Daggers being shocked and then pissed at Rooster when they discover Mav is married to Ice. Also Ice using sign is always a fucking bonus to me.

Spider Sully series by @alexihollis , 11/? works, James Cameron Avatar movies, Spider Socorro & Sully Family, last updated 4/11/2023.

I've raved about this fic enough for you all, but once again! This is the og and if I had my way it would go on forever and ever and never end. Especially now that it's ended up on the front lines fighting for aocorro, which you all also know I've recently decided I enjoy.

I Believe We're The Enemy by reginalds , 7/10 chapters, Spartacus (2010), nagron (Nasir/Agron), last updated 8/13/2015.

This fanfiction was last updated in 2015, but I only watched 2010 Spartacus in 2021 and that's what hurts most of all, huh? What a fantastic show. There would probably be a ton more nagron fics on here but I stopped reading unfinished fics from 2012 😔. Like genuinely though I've bled that fandom dry, I've read every single Barca/Pietros fic that exists.

The Pride of Burrough House by RonsGirlFriday @constitutionalweasleymonarchy , 23/65 chapters, Harry Potter series, multiship, last updated 12/8/2023.

This fic is still being updated, I believe it's just slow because each chapter is an epic. It's just really cool and you all should read it. It's a regency era Harry Potter fic which like, all the ships getting their own plot. Also love love Harry just, growing up rich and cool with his parents lol. I think the dialogue is super fun and I'm very invested in every characters plot so far.

a study in poor judgement by cze , 7/8 chapters, The Goldfinch, boreo (Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky), last update 8/29/2022.

It's so close though!!! I've read every boreo fanfiction that exists too, and for a bummer of a book, it's a bummer of a fandom as well lol. This fic (although it also manages to be a bummer), puts Theo in such a funny predicament that it combats enough of the bummer-ness that I just loved it. And just like almost every other boreo fic, it's stupidly well written.

Best Laid Plans by voiceoftime @music-is-love-90 , 30/40 chapters, Bridgerton, kanthony (Kate Sharma/Anthony Bridgerton), last updated 3/24/2023.

This is my favorite of my favorite type Bridgerton fics to read, which is Kate and Anthony courting from the beginning instead of the nonsense with Edwina. And this one is just *chefs kiss* I think it's still being updated as well though. Hopefully.

Holding On and Letting Go by Nizhoni93 , 9/? chapters, The Black Phone, rinney (Finney Blake/Robin Arellano), last updated 9/8/2023.

I have pushed this fic before, but once again it is absolutely heartbreaking. I cried seven separate times reading just one of the chapters. I need it finished so I know if it works the fuck out, because I literally cannot handle ghost Robin being stuck watching the boy he loves but can't see him for the rest of Finney's life.

When Eywa Sleeps, So Do Her Children by Aye_Dei , 9/9 (now marked as complete), James Cameron Avatar movies, Ao'nung/Neteyam/Spider, last updated 10/23/2023.

This one is a massive bummer, as it was ended due to newfound bigotry, but I was really enjoying it before it was discontinued.

And finally, I just wanted to express my deep disappointment that my icemav Star Wars au was deleted halfway through. I'm mad about it.

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