#Make Calls on Smartwatch

[bawkbawkmoose]

it is deeply funny to me that half the premise of Burning Shores hinges on the Quen having 20-year-old Focus units that don't have the hardware capability to place a phone call from LA to San Francisco

[fozmeadows]

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?

[househrt]

house in 2024

House installs 24/7 tracking apps on Wilson's phone. In return, Wilson books Ubers to take his phone and drive to various nefarious locations, sit there for half an hour, then come back home

Similarly, Wilson gets a smartwatch that monitors his heart rate. House gets updates sent to his phone and calls Wilson whenever his heart rate increases by more than 20 bpm to try and interrupt him jerking off

Kutner writes fanfic and replies to almost every comment he gets. His author's notes are full of things like "sorry this chapter is late, I accidentally gave myself a concussion trying to save a patient's life"

House posts on the Am I The Asshole subreddit but gets annoyed at everything thinking he's the asshole so he immediately deletes his account and pretends it never existed

Cuddy spends an hour of her day responding to the hospital's negative google reviews about "that rude doctor with the cane"

A young patient of Wilson's convinces him to be in a TikTok they're making, and he doesn't really know what that is but he agrees and ends up going semi-viral

Chase is secretly seething with jealousy over Wilson's accidental TikTok success, because Chase has been making thirst-trap videos in his scrubs for months with barely any views (it's because he's trying way too hard)

Thirteen gets really into Drag Race/the local drag scene and accidentally introduces House to gay slang, which he instantly adopts

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[chancloud8]

PART 5.

<< previous chapter || next chapter >>

series masterlist

series summary: you catsit for lee know while he's on tour and unexpectedly develop a relationship with him through texting him about his cats

pairing: lee know x reader

chapter tags: smau written scene, talking about feelings, fluff

a/n: I decided to write out a part of the phone call. Next part will be texts again (:

Can I call you?

It's been a few minutes since you received Minho's question and you've been staring at your phone screen in doubt ever since. 

At first you wanted to decline, not sure if you would be able to get through this kind of conversation on the phone, especially with your pounding headache, but you are also curious. 

What will he say? Is he really serious about liking you? Will he be just as flirty over the phone as through his texts? 

With nervous butterflies swarming your stomach and your smartwatch alerting you of your high heart rate, you make a decision and text him back. 

Almost immediately your phone lights up, flashing Minho's name and the cat emoji, indicating he's calling you. 

With trembling fingers you accept his call and bring your phone to your ear, waiting. 

'Hello? Y/N?' Minho's voice sounds from the other end of the line. 

'Hi,' you say, and you wince at the hoarse sound of your voice. 

You really should have drank some water. 

'I didn't think you were going to pick up,' Minho chuckles. 

Soonie perks up from where he's laying under the blanket, his big green eyes widening as his ears twitch. He clearly recognized his owner's voice and without realizing it, you let out a soft coo. 

'Are you okay?' Minho asks. 

You clear your throat. 'Yeah, uhm, Soonie was just looking very cute.' 

Another chuckle reaches your ears and your lips curl up in a smile at the sound. 

'When is he not?'

'Fair point,' you giggle, reaching out your hand to scratch Soonie behind his ears.

‘Are you okay though?’ Minho repeats his question. ‘About what I texted?’

You bite your lip and ponder about what to say. You feel okay, flustered, but okay. A little bit confused, but okay. You can’t deny that you’re attracted to him, you’re not blind, the man is probably one of the most beautiful guys you ever met. He’s also very kind and funny and the way he cares for his cats sets your heart on fire. 

You’re just about to say something when Minho starts talking again.

‘I’m sorry if I came on too strong, I just-’ he falls silent and you can hear him take a deep breath. ‘I can’t really explain it, but I just really like you. Ever since we met that first time, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’ 

Shit. Is he even real? Did you just wake up in one of your romcom novels, or your favorite K-drama? What in the world would a handsome and talented idol see in you? 

‘Y-you’re joking right? Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I’m just-, I’m just me.’ 

Minho chuckles again and the vibrations coming through your phone do something funny to your brain. You feel like you’re dreaming. 

‘I think that’s the point,’ Minho says. ‘I like you, y/n.’ 

‘Okay,’ you reply, not knowing what else to say. ‘Thank you?’ 

This time he full on laughs and you can’t help but smile, imagining him leaning forward and slapping his knee or clapping his hands, like you’ve seen him do in a video you showed the cats the other day. 

Soonie stands up from the blankets and crawls into your lap, rubbing his head against your chest as if to say, ‘get it together human’. 

‘Sorry, I’m a little awkward and I don’t quite know what to say to confessions like this,’ you admit to Minho as you stroke Soonie’s back. 

‘I know, I’ve noticed,’ Minho says, clearly still amused. ‘But that’s okay, I will just have to repeat it until you believe me.’ 

‘Isn’t it weird though?’ you ask. ‘Since I work for you? I mean, isn’t there like a rule against dating who you work with?’ 

‘I see I’m making progress if you’re talking about dating,’ Minho says and you can almost hear him smirk. ‘I think in our situation it’s different though. I don't have a company, we don’t work together and I could also argue that I’m not really your boss.’ 

‘I’m working for you, that makes you my boss,’ you argue, but there’s no heat behind it. 

‘I pay you, but I’m not your boss,’ Minho chuckles. 

It hits you then and you laugh, looking at Soonie who is already staring back at you with curious eyes. 

‘You’re saying Dori, Doongie and Soonie are my boss?’ 

‘I knew you’d get it!’ 

The both of you laugh and you can’t help but agree with him. 

‘Now that we’ve established that, will you please agree to go out on a date with me when I get back?’ Minho asks. 

Nervous butterflies erupt in your stomach and when Soonie bumps his head against your chest again you decide that maybe for once, you shouldn’t overthink this too much and go with your gut. 

‘Okay.’ 

a/n: I hope you liked this lil written part <3 Part 5 will be texts again!

-

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>> next chapter

[hxzbinwrites]

Idk if you do headcanons or one shots but either or will be fine:

Can I pretty please get a Vox x Emotionless! Reader?

Plot can be whatever you want but just to (hopefully) give some ideas… maybe Vox had no interest in Reader but then uh oh she smiled! Now Vox has a crush (°▽°)

But yeah lol thank you!! Have a good day!

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Lovestruck Fool |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is a horrible boss

10:00am

(Y/n) walked into Vox’s office, holding an folder with today’s date and Vox’s name on it.

“Mr. Vox.” She said, her dead eyes watching her boss turn around in his excessively large chair.

“Hm, what is it (Y/n)?” He said, giving her a single glance before turning back to his monitors

“You have three meetings today sir. 1:00pm with Velvette in her portion of the tower. 2:30pm with Valentino in the main conference room, and someone scheduled a 4:00 with you, a Mr. Alastor? Called in today for an urgent meeting.”

Vox slammed his hands down on the desk, his face glitching in seething anger. “THAT PRICK!! CALL BACK AND TELL HIM I WILL NOT BE ATTENDING ANY SORT OF MEETING WITH HIM!!”

“He called from a public telephone sir, I can’t trace the caller ID.” (Y/n) said, clearly unfazed by his temper tantrum.

“DAMN IT!” He said, punching a smaller monitor on his right,”DONT YOU EVER LET HIM SCHEDULE ANOTHER MEETING WITH ME OR VOXTECH EVER AGAIN!!!”

Vox turned around, pointing one of his clawed fingers in your deadpanned face.

“Okay sir, is that all?”

“UGH!!” He said, clenching his fists to his side,”WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? IM AN OVERLORD, I AM THE VOX, YOU SHOULD BE QUIVERING IN FEAR!! IM YELLING MY HEAD OFF AT YOU AND YOU CANT EVEN FORM AN EXPRESSION?? ARE YOU BRAINDEAD??”

(Y/n) slowly blinks, before looking down and rummaging through the folder she still held. “Ah, I almost forgot. Mr. Alastor requested his meeting also in the main conference room. If you need another reminder about your meetings today just call me-“

She was cut off once more by Vox, screaming and yelling, throwing things hazardously across the room. “JUST LEAVE.”

“Alright sir.” (Y/n) said, immediately turning away and walking towards the door.

————

4:45pm

(Y/n) was at her desk, taking calls and rearranging Vox’s schedule for tomorrow when her work phone buzzed.

“Hello? This is (Y/n) with Voxtech. How may I-“

“(Y/n). My office. Now.”

“Sir? This isn’t your work phone number? How can I be sure that this is-“

“MY OFFICE. NOW.”

(Y/n) could hear his voice glitching over the phone before she hung up, and briskly made her way to the door of his office.

She walked in to his Vox in his obnoxiously large chair, his hands covering his screen as he sighed in exhaustion.

“Ah, sir. You called me?”

“Yes (Y/n). I have installed safety features into your desk. Don’t except meetings from Alastor. If he comes in here, press the button under your monitor. He is NEVER allowed in this building.”

“Okay sir.” She said, making a note of that on her smartwatch,”Will that be all?”

“Can you get me a coffee…?”

“Right away sir.”

————

5:00pm

“Here’s your coffee sir.” (Y/n) said, setting it in his outreached hand.

“Thank you (Y/n)” He said, taking a single sip before doing a spit take. On one of the monitors around the city, it showed Velvette and Alastor chatting to one another.

“WHAT?!?” Vox yelled, being as “careful” as he usually is, his coffee flies into the air before landing on his shirt. He hissed in pain at the hit liquid, scrambling around before tripping on the various wires around his monitor setup (that was replaced after his previous temper tantrum) and landing on his ass.

Vox looked up in shock to see (Y/n) covering half of her mouth, revealing a smile. Tears brimmed her eyes as she tried to respectfully hold in her laughter.

Vox’s face felt red hot. Out of embarrassment and admiration. Why didn’t she smile more? Oh that smile, if she could remove her hand it would reveal its full glory. Let him soak it in. Her eyes filled with life and laughter. Has she always been this….beautiful? Yes, I think she has. She has indeed.

She let out a little snort before regaining her composure, before crouching down in front of him, taking the napkins provided with the coffee, and starting to wipe off as much of the liquid as possible. He felt her delicate hands rub across his chest. He hope she didn’t feel his erratic heartbeat.

He wanted this. He’s yearned for this and he didn’t even know it. Vox’s breathing became as erratic as his heartbeat, almost in sync. He felt sweat starting to drip, wether it be from the hot coffee adorning his now ruined shirt or from the stunning woman and her hands on his chest.

Trying to get as much as she could, (Y/n) scooted even closer, not realizing her hips were hovering right over his. Vox’s mind was running wild, his screen glitching and flicking between different error signals. His hands floating near the handles of her hips. Taking a gulp, he almost put his hands on her skin. Almost. He ended up just leaving his hands there, leaving a ghostly stabilization to the assistant who was cleaning him up like a toddler who spilt his apple juice.

(Y/n) looked up at Vox’s eyes, their eyes locking onto one another. A small smile could be faintly seen across her lips before it went back to its neutral state.

She helped him to his feet, her soft hands gently pulling on his clawed ones, slowly helping him to his feet. Handing him the remaining napkins. “I’ll schedule a trip to the dry cleaners. Does 3:45 tomorrow work well for you?”

Vox sat back down, his eyes wide in shock from what just happened. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Alright sir, I’ll get that done, and then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

(Y/n) walked out, the door closing behind her. Leaving the room back in it’s inky black darkness, with the exception of the glowing monitors.

Vox looked at his reflection in the main monitor. He could see his goofy smile. His blush adorning his cheeks. His eyes lighting up like a child who knows no sin. He looked like what he was, a lovestruck fool. A lovestruck fool for his assistant.

————

Word Count: 1006

(sorry it’s so short, i’m trying to get as many requests done as i can 😭)

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (crack) - "where’s my super suit?”

this is very self-explanatory slight nsfw mention?? nothing smutty lmao

Brooding in his impossibly dark office, Miguel gazes at the various orange telegram screens around him. One of them catches his eye; Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie all being absolutely demolished by an anomaly. 

Each one of them is being thrown in the opposite direction, thwacking against each other or accidentally webbing the wrong person. 

Miguel’s supposed to be off duty right now, though it’s hard to believe that Miguel gets any free time at all. Giving into Lyla’s pestering, he wears normal clothes today, opting for a simple zip-up sports jacket and pants. 

But, Miguel knew he’d regret it. 

He gazes at the live footage of the kids being completely totaled by the anomaly. Something similar to sympathy growing in his chest. (He doesn’t like to admit he has a soft spot for the kids, but he does.)

Miguel closes his eyes, hunching down and pinching between his eyes. “No puedo más-” He mumbles to himself. Pressing a button on the screen, Miguel quickly finds which universe the kids are in, opting to jump in and deal with it himself. 

He’s already got his watch on, ready to step into action when he realizes...

He doesn’t have his suit on. 

“Fuck.“ He mutters, breaking into a run out of his office, and down the equally dim hallway towards his living quarters. If you’re so invested in your job, why not live there as well?

The automatic doors slide open, revealing a lifeless, bland bedroom. You bug him to make it more homey, but he hasn’t got the chance to yet. Miguel quickly rummages through his drawers in the dark, filing through another closet in search of his suit, or at least one of a duplicate. Nothing. 

“Lyla!“

Miguel starts rummaging through more clothes, and she instantly flickers by his shoulder. 

“What?“

“Do you know where my suit is?“ Miguel asks. 

“I dunno.“ Lyla shrugs. “I think y/n has it. Said she wanted to keep it to make sure you wouldn’t go work today.“

Miguel sighs in annoyance, swatting Lyla away like a fly until she blinks off. He taps a few buttons on his smartwatch, hastily pressing the call button for your favorited contact. 

(it reads ”babyboo💕💞” after you changed it in his sleep lmaoo)

You answer as per usual. Miguel’s surprised you weren’t busy. 

“Honey?“ Miguel asks, double checking the clothes he threw on the floor.

“Whaat?” 

“Where’s my suit?” 

“What? Sorry, you spazzed out a little.“

Miguel sighs, taking a deep breath on behalf of healthy marriages. 

“Where. Is. My. Spider. Suit?“ He asks, slower this time. 

“I uh- put it away.“ 

“Where?“ He asks, his voice hushed. 

You raise your eyebrow. Miguel is supposed to be off duty?

“Why do you need to know?“

“I need it!“

“Nuh uh! Don’t you dare think about zipping off to whatever fucking Earth-199 you’ve got going on! You haven’t had a break in literally 4 years!“

“The kids are in danger!“

“Your mental health is in danger!“

“Tell me where my goddamn suit is! We’re talking about the future generation!“

“The only future generation you should be worrying about are the kids you put in me last ni-“

“Oh my fucking god, just tell me! Hon-“

You hang up on him, and Miguel sighs for the 10th time today, hanging his head low in frustration. He’s surrounded by clothes he never wears, the room utterly cluttered. 

You know what, maybe someone else will deal with it? There’s thousands of spider-people in the building, it’s safe to say that they could take down at least one anomaly. 

For now, Miguel needs a break.

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[curiositypolling]

pls reblog for sample size etc

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

*sorry for misnumbering

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man catches you by surprise as he appears. You’re busy scraping out the bottom of the toaster as he stands silently at the counter. You smile over at him and call out for him to bear with you for a moment. You’re not sure how you didn’t hear him, even as you tried to chip away at the burnt crumbs. Xander never cleans it. 

“Hi, sir, sorry.” You dry off your hands as you approach. “Black coffee.” 

You punch in his order and he waits patiently to tap his smartwatch on the machine. He doesn’t say a word as you pour him a cup. It’s typical but unsettling nonetheless. 

“Oh, er, I think... I think last time there was a mix-up.” You say as you put his cup on the counter. He ignores you and goes to grab a sleeve and a lid. You follow as you dig around in your apron pocket. “Uh, sir, I think you gave me the wrong tip.” 

You bring the folded bill out of your pocket and hold it out. He doesn’t even look at it. Instead, his dark eyes bore into you. Oh. That’s scary. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

That’s it. He’s already halfway around before you can process his words. His tone hangs in the air and lingers even as the door opens and closes across the atrium. You rescind your arm and open up the bill. 

It’s a lot of money. You could use it but it just feels so wrong. You can’t help but feel indebted. Maybe because you’re used to bending over backwards for each cent. You’ll be smart. Put it away for an emergency. Those always seem to find you at the worst moment. 

Your shift comes to an end as the city skyline softens beneath the amber glow of sunrise. Dayani takes the keys and sends you off. You’re tempted to grab a coffee to go before you leave but you can’t. You need sleep. 

You come out onto the street and take your usual route. You cut behind the corner shop and around the short alleyway. As you come out on the other side, a shadow appears, as if splitting from the brick, and falls into step beside you. 

You stumble and glance over at the stranger. It’s that man. The one who always wears black and orders the same shade of coffee. 

“I don’t make mistakes,” he says. 

You’re too addled to respond. How did he find you? How did he know you’d come this way? 

You stop but only for a moment as he grabs your arm and lurches you forward. You whimper and struggle to keep in stride. His grip is tight and his fingertips jab painfully. 

“Sir? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--” 

“You shouldn’t take shortcuts,” he reprimands, eyes set ahead of him as he drags you down your usual path. “It’s dangerous.” 

“Oh, ouch, sorry. I—what's happening?” You squeak as confusion muddles your thoughts. 

“Anyone could sneak up on you.” He doesn’t falter. You can hardly keep your feet moving as your adrenaline floods through your veins and narrows your vision. You glance around helplessly but the few bodies on the street don’t spare you a single look. 

“I’m sorry. Again. But—ow. Do you want your money back?” You try to shrug him off as he turns down your street. 

He’s silent as he marches on. He stops you in front of your building and angles you to face it. He keeps a hold of you. 

“Should be in this building. Locks janky. Any asshole can climb the fire escape.” He points along the side. “Or carry in an empty pizza box behind the elderly old lady who’s too helpful for her own good.” 

You wince and hold the air in your chest. “Sir?” 

“Night shift. Alone. That’s third. Stupid,” he snarls. 

“Sir, I—I have roommates and... and there’s cameras.” 

“And assholes wear masks or don’t give a shit,” he growls. 

You whine as he squeezes and you touch his hand. “Ow, please, you’re hurting me.” 

He shifts and looks down at his hand. He gives one last squeeze and releases you. He drops his arm straight and faces you. 

“Lots of men out there would hurt you worse.” 

You shake your head at him. You don’t understand. You’re not stupid. You’ve lived in the city long enough. 

“You leave just before eleven. At least you have the sense to stay in streetlights then. But you keep your head down and don’t look where you’re going,” he rebukes. “You don’t see your own shadow or the second one making sure no one else notices you.” 

You pout and flutter your lashes. The fear slowly rises up from your stomach to your chest until you’re choked dumb. His mouth slants. 

“You should use that money for a can of mace. Maybe a taser.” He squares his shoulders and looks you up and down. “Or maybe I’ll just keep my eye on you.” 

You flounder, lips twitching, and he puts his back to you. He stalks off without another word or another look. You watch him until he’s only a speck in the cityscape. 

What the heck was that? 

[ladyveronikawrites]

SHOW ME WHERE THE DELICATE STOPS

Bridge Part Three

Pairing: all of bad omens x female reader

cw: fivesome, orgy of sorts, vaginal fingering, vaginal fisting, cum eating, boot licking, boot fetish, oral (m and f receiving), hand jobs,  voyeurism, male masturbation, squirting, use of blindfolds, hands as handcuffs, orgasm denial, tones of d/s dynamic, aftercare, overstimulation, swearing, dacryphilia; there's a lot so if I missed any please let me know!

18+ content below👑

title comes from 'Jaws' by Sleep Token 💜 divider by @saradika-graphics

word count: 3k | fic masterlist | kinktober masterlist | tag list sign up | wattpad | ao3

You find yourself blindfolded and straddling Nick Folio’s lap. You know it’s him because of his smell and well–

Your mind flashes back to hours before.

“Last call!” you hear Nick shout over your shoulder. You look down at your smartwatch to find it is well before 2 am. You hear some grumbling from the regulars but soon enough they all close out their tabs. One of them gives you a stink and all you give them is “Sorry, boss’s orders” and a shrug. Two women are bickering in the corner but you pay no mind. You don’t know why he is shutting down the bar early. It’s very strange for him on his first day off from the tour, usually, this place would be packed.

It had been a year since you and Nick took joint ownership of the bar. You still hold bootblacking every Tuesday night and his motorcycle club meeting on Friday Nights. It took a few months to get all of the rustic furniture in; not to mention the antique bike parts and instruments refurbished as decor sprinkled about the bar. Only when you got the stamp of approval from Nick for the design for the “Third Base” sign out front did it all come to fruition. 

The old jukebox remained, but everything else had been updated. The brick wall behind the bar showcased a wall-mounted motorcycle, which Nick’s father had passed down to him. Due to the success of the band, he was never able to fix it up enough to ride it, but he was able to shine it up and put it out on display. The day the bar opened, his father nearly wept. He was so proud of Nick and he was also proud of you; saying how glad that he was that you were a part of Nick’s life.

During the day, you two make a great team as business partners, and at night you host play parties upstairs. And when Nick had a break from touring, he would throw huge parties to celebrate. 

Tonight seems to be different. When you breathe in Nick’s scent you can feel the air shift making the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. You can hear footsteps thudding against the concrete floor and the smell of leather, gasoline, and cigarette smoke swirls in your lungs. It was familiar– but with your lack of sight, it took you a moment to place it. The motorcycle club. There weren’t nearly enough footsteps to be the whole gang, so most likely Folio’s elite along with the rest of the band; despite not being official members, in Nick’s eyes they were, and as president that was good enough for him. 

“Wha-” A finger pressed against your lips silences you. Nick leans forward, his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver up your spine. “Honoring a wish,” his tone is deep and husky. “You’ve been working so hard while I was away…” He plants a searing kiss on your temple before nipping at your earlobe. “You’ve earned it.” 

Your mind begins to reel trying to understand his cryptic message. What wish? What does he mean? When you adjust yourself for support by placing your hands on his chest; it’s then when it all connects. His erection rubs against you and you suck in a breath. He huffs a laugh, pulling you closer to him. 

“Remember what you told me before I left for tour? That drunken text you sent?” He litters kisses on your cheeks between words making your brain fuzzy. He nips at your earlobe before whispering the word in your ear. Instantly your pussy throbs at the thought of him fulfilling one of your fantasies. 

“Really? I-It’s not too weird or awkward?” You start to babble your mind racing. “You don’t—” Nick silences you with his lips. You welcomed the taste of him; whiskey, and the remnants of his cigar. It was familiar and comforting like relaxing by the fireplace on a cold wintery day.

You hear boots shuffling closer, body heat and cologne from another flooding your senses. Suddenly, you yelp in pain when a hand fists your strands tilting your head back. Digging your nails into Nick’s sides for stability, he groans and then gasps, wet sounds and smacking lips filter into your ears. The sound alone heats your core. 

“Fuck Jolls,” Nick curses breathlessly, and the other huffs a laugh in response. You find yourself a little jealous that Jolly tore you away from Nick’s perfect lips. 

“Awh Nick, someone's jealous,” Jolly taunts above you. 

“Good,” Nick teases, caressing your chin. “We have a long night ahead of–” You hear the door slamming shut and hushed whispers. 

“I’ll be right back,” Nick bites out, his tone cold and sharp as a knife. Nick lifts you off of his lap only for Jolly to wrap his arms around your middle caging you in.

“Just you and me for a little while,” Jolly whispers into your ear. “What do you think about that, hm?” 

Your heartbeat skyrockets at his proposal— with your eyes still covered,  your mind immediately flashes vivid images of his hands around your throat and his rings pressed against your bare flesh– a long-time fantasy of yours.

“Yes…please,” you whine desperate for any touch since Nick left. Without another word, a large hand adorned with silver rings envelopes your hand and drags you outside and up the staircase to the apartment above the garage. 

You’ve only been in the apartment a few times as Nick rents it out as an Airbnb which happens to do really well, especially in the summer and autumn months. 

You hear the door shut behind you as Jolly leads slowly you through the apartment into the bedroom. You yelp when he pushes you onto the mattress. Suddenly he crawls onto the bed caging you in with his body. His proximity sets your body alight making your pussy throb.

“Don’t move darling, I’ll be right back.” He sucks a lovebite to your neck that has you moaning when he rolls off of you. Your body starts to tremble with anticipation. With your eyes covered, your other senses heighten. You hear every single step he makes outside of the room.

With a gasp, the door swings open again but this time you hear boots and bodies shuffle in. There’s a collective whisper between the others in the room that has your heartbeat soaring. You can’t see but you can sense whoever is in the room is staring right at you. You don’t know who else is in the room or how many there are yet just the idea of others watching you heats your body from the inside out. 

“Good girl,” Jolly coos, his voice is soft with an edge of roughness. “I hope it’s ok that I brought some friends.” It was more than ok. “Pleeease,” you whimper, body writhing and hungry to be touched.

Jolly chuckles as you hear him approach the bed, “Relax sweet girl, it’s going to be a long night.” Long fingers tilt your chin to the side. Jolly plants a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Some of Folio’s crew is here to watch us as it's their initiation. I know you are going to be so good for us.” He trails kisses along your jaw to the other ear. “I have two really good boys waiting to tend to you at your feet. Are you ready?”

“Yes! Yes please!” your voice is raspy and full of desperation. 

Your breath hitches when you hear Nicholas and Noah say, “Thank you, mistress,” in unison. While Jolly continues to kiss you, your mind wanders to the night when Nicholas worshipped at your feet and Noah fucked your boots. A harsh pinch to your covered nipple catches you by surprise causing you to bite down on Jolly’s lip. Your body tenses with fear but instead of a reprimand, Jolly groans exploring your mouth deeper with his tongue. 

“Do that again and I just might have my way with you first.” 

You whine when he pulls away from you but suddenly light filters into your eyes once more now that the blindfold has been removed.  At your feet, you watch as Nicholas and Noah kiss up and down your boots – one daring to nibble at the delicate skin of your thigh just at the hem of your short shorts.

“Fuck.” You shut your eyes tight as the pain intensifies with every lick and suck of Noah’s mouth on your skin. At the same time, Nicholas unzips and slides off your boots and socks. Overwhelmed by the soft and rough touches to your body you start to giggle. 

“You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?” Jolly smirks. You pretend to bite at the ringed finger close to your mouth, earning you a warning glare from the Swede. “Seems like you’re ready for more, hmm?”

What would have been a ‘hell yes’ turns into a surprised yelp when the men at your feet pounce between your spread legs to unbutton your denim shorts and rip off your panties leaving you utterly exposed to everyone in the room. Jolly moves to the end of the bed as  Nicholas and Noah take their place on either side of you. With every step, Jolly takes closer to your body laid bare your heartbeat pounds thump thump thump.

You sit frozen as time slows and Jolly licks his lips staring at what he can't wait to devour.  Despite the warm lips and hot breath on your face, you remain entranced. Noah litters sweet pecks to your cheek as Nicholas whispers, “Get ready, doll.” 

Leaning back into the pile of pillows for support, you melt into the sensations as Nicholas and Noah pepper kisses to your cheeks and neck.  Jolly slowly lowers himself to your core, a satisfied hum rumbles from his throat when he swipes a finger through your silken folds.

You feel your arms being guided upwards as the guys in tandem lift your tank top up and over your head. In an instant, your bra has been unfastened and tossed unceremoniously on the floor. Trembling slightly, goosebumps cover the freshly exposed skin. Simultaneously, Nicholas and Noah entwine their fingers with yours, binding you to them.  Nicholas' other free hand explores your soft supple skin, the rough callouses rub against your breast. Noah takes your chin, pulling you into a sloppy wet kiss.  It's all teeth and tongue just as Jolly nips at the flesh of your inner thigh right where Noah bit earlier. 

“Fuck!” You pull away to curse, glaring down at Jolly only to find his face hovering inches from your now slick folds. “...me,” you gasp when his gaze bores into you, his dark lust-drenched eyes forever etched inside your mind. Your head rolls back into the pillows screwing your eyes shut tight, giving into the sensation of Jolly’s tongue against your sensitive bud. Jolly teases your entrance with his thumb before sliding two fingers in you. He scissors his fingers in you stretching you wide. Your back arches and you bite down on your lip.

“You’re so wet, darling,” Jolly groans. “Think you can-”

“Don’t you dare hold back,” Noah commands. That’s all the permission you need to let loose the moan from the back of your throat. 

“Please please please,” you start to beg as Nicholas flicks his tongue over your nipple as Noah pinches the other. 

“Oh,” Jolly chuckles. “She loves that… fuck.” He thrusts his fingers slowly in and out as Nicholas and Noah alternate kissing and sucking on your tits and kissing each other. The sight of them entangled above you makes your skin heat. Noah pulls the sweetest sounds from Nicholas when he tugs on his hair. 

“Goddamn,” Jolly moans sliding another finger in. You gasp at the stretch, feeling full. 

“Feeling good, sweet girl?” Nicholas coos.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moan squirming under their touch. You need more, crave more. 

“Come on, baby girl you can take it.” Jolly practically growls as he slides his whole hand in.

“Fuckfuckfuck…fuuuuck.” Your curses melt into a moan as he stretches you out wide with all of his fingers. At this point your whole body is limp and your brain is full of a blissful emptiness you barely register the door opening and closing. 

“Goddamn,” you hear Nick curse. You can feel his gaze bore into you, but you don’t have the strength to open your eyes to acknowledge his presence. Suddenly, a moist tongue circles your clit as Jolly’s fingers curl into a fist.

A hand moves to your lower belly and presses gently. “Holy shit, Jolls I can feel you!” Nick says astonished.

You suck in a breath as Jolly’s hand shifts inside you and Nick returns to your clit while Nicholas and Noah alternate kissing your tits and your lips. It’s all so overwhelming that your building orgasm takes you by surprise. Your fingers tighten around the hands that hold you down at the same time you bite down on whoever’s lips are on yours. 

Jolly gently unravels his fist inside you to thrust his long fingers one more time as Nick sucks your clit between his lips. Nick and Jolly press down your trembling thighs as Nick drives you closer to the edge with his tongue. Without warning, the floodgates open between your legs as Jolly slides his hand out.  A warm tongue instantly dives into your hole, licking and sucking your release. Your body starts to tremble from overstimulation, but the mouth on your pussy doesn’t relent. 

Gasping for air, Noah pulls from your lips yet keeps your wrist pinned to the mattress. He and Nicholas kneel beside you to give your lips and tits a rest. When you open your eyes you find Noah and Nicholas above you fighting over Jolly’s slick hand. Mesmerized, you watch them lick and suck at his fingers. Their desperate moans distract you briefly until Nick pulls your attention back to him with his lips between your folds. Consumed with pleasure you barely register the whispered “good boys” as Jolly turns from the bed.

“What’s your color?” Jolly asks as he settles down on the chair in the corner of the room.

“Green,” your voice rasps from disuse. 

“Boys?” Jolly asks the others. 

“Green sir,” Nicholas and Noah say in unison, sitting pretty on their knees waiting for the next instruction. 

“How you are feeling, honey?” Nick asks.

“Really good, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to last.” You look down at Nick and your mouth pops open when you catch him lining himself up to your entrance. 

“The boys beside me are getting a little restless… toooo.” Your head rolls back against the pillow and your eyes shut tight as Nick stretches you wide with his cock. Your hands reach out for anything to grip onto. Nicholas gasps and you pull your hand away so quick as if you touched fire. Nick must have noticed the brief interaction when you feel him still inside you. 

Embarrassed, you battle the nerves bubbling in your belly and peer up at Nicholas. Your cheeks flame red and you wish you could curl into yourself and hide but his soft voice calms you instantly. 

“It’s ok darling, you can touch me… there,” his breath catches as you wrap your fingers around his shaft. “...and I think Noah would like that too.” His suggestion fills you with a new wave of confidence. Slowly, you reach out to Noah, your fingertips grazing his semi-hard cock. Stroking him gently, he hardens instantly under your touch. You find a good rhythm quickly with the moans and whimpers that fill the room.

“You are simply divine,” Nick purrs against your silken folds. His voice rumbles deeply cutting through the soft sounds that surround you. When your eyes meet his, your brain goes blank and your gaze softens. Your arms get heavy causing you to halt your strokes and tighten your grasp. 

“Look at what you do to them,” Nick casts his gaze to Nicholas and then to Noah as they fuck into your grasp. 

“P-please,” Noah hiccups, sobbing faster. “More.” Without warning, he rests one hand on your shoulder and wraps the other hand over yours as he assists in stroking himself. His large hand swallows yours as he takes control of the speed, allowing him to decide how he jerks himself off. If you watch his cock slide in and out of the O shape hole you made with your hand you’ll explode. 

“Nick please,” Nicholas whines as he uses your hand to stroke himself faster. “Please hurry, I-I don’t think I’ll last much longer.” With heavy lids, you catch Nicholas’ eyes shimmer, and a single tear rolls down his cheek.  

“Don’t ask me,” Nick smirks. “Ask–” Before you can even get a word out, Nick folds your legs up to your chest and sinks into you moaning your name.

“C-can we…” Nicholas sniffles as more tears slide down his cheeks.

“Can we cum, mistress?” Noah asks, his voice is high-pitched and pained.

You lock eyes with Nick. His brown eyes are dark and drenched in desire. A small smirk curls the corner of his lip as he slams into you over and over again. You suck in a gasp when two of his thick fingers circle your clit. You can’t help but moan “Cum with me boys.” Your legs tremble and your arms ache from the stroking two cocks. Nearing exhaustion you sink into the mattress letting the guys use you to chase their climax.

Anticipation makes your pussy clench when Nicholas and Noah announce that they are about to cum. 

“God, this is so fucking hot.” Jolly’s words are just enough to throw you over the edge and you take the boys with you. Screwing your eyes shut, your body goes taut as cum splashes over your chest and tummy. The mattress suddenly groans when Nicholas and Noah flop onto the bed beside you breathing heavily. 

Blinking a few times, your eyes flutter open to the sight of Nick staring at you as he was ready to pounce. Glancing over you spot Jolly lazily stroking his still hard cock. Your mind briefly wonders how he– 

Without warning a small giggle erupts from your throat when Nick licks and kisses your tummy. His fingers dig into your sides where he finds your most ticklish spot. His body is warm and slick with sweat when he settles down onto you. It’s simultaneously comforting and suffocating but when he rests his head on your breasts and looks up at you with his puppy dog eyes you can’t help but smile. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as his thrumb brushes over your cheek. As your mind stumbles over an answer you hear Jolly moan and Nicholas and Noah bickering.

“I…” You want to tell him how amazing it was. How confident and sexy it made you feel. How your heart rate skyrocketed when Jolly touched you… “Amazing,” you sigh as your eyes fluttered closed. 

“Good,” he whispers before planting a kiss on your cheek. As you start to drift off to sleep you overhear Jolly offering himself to Nick. 

“Later honey, let’s get our girl cleaned up first and then I’ll take good care of you.” You catch the smile in Nick’s voice and it makes your heart flutter. 

Nick’s soft voice rouses you gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can order food.” 

You take his hand and he leads you to the en suite bathroom where you hear the shower tap running. In no time at all, both Jolly and Nick alternate washing you and themselves and Nick did, in fact, take care of Jolly… and you… a few times… in the spacious walk-in shower.

Royal Readers

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[seat-safety-switch]

You can keep your ghostly little girls, your blood on the windows, your random vampire attacks. For me, the spookiest mystery of Halloween is why my car keeps getting vapour lock.

Down the street, the real mechanics tell me that it's because the weather is getting colder. The fuel inside the carb gets denser and it doesn't burn as well. I think that's some top-shelf bullshit, mostly because I know for a fact that at least two of the dudes down at Harry's Auto Repair are actually werewolves. Think about it: Harry's. It's right in the name. Next time I go in there to borrow their tools without paying, I should bring along a dog biscuit.

Car chasing canine mechanics aside, they do have a point. The weather has been getting worse lately, and cars do run a lot worse when that happens. Originally, my distant Quebecois ancestors would have chalked this up to malevolent spirits, angered by a too-greedy harvest of the fields. They'd have left a couple stalks of corn behind, to keep the spirits happy. You know, make sure that the old family tractor keeps starting every morning just in case Meemaw needed to take Peepaw to the hospital to get his stomach pumped again (corn liquor problems.) What I needed was a sacrifice.

Back in the 70s, when this car was made, it was a lot easier to find sacrifices. People went missing all the time, and nobody went looking for them. Nowadays, if you kidnap a person from the side of the highway, you have to make sure all their tracking devices are removed. Smartphones. Smartwatches. Smart rings. Smart buttplugs. The other day, I heard about some guy that has an internet-connected tooth. Yeah. His molar can get an IP address. All of these things are constantly reporting your location to a series of shadowy information brokers. And they call me a monster.

To avoid all this hassle, I simply decided to do what I always do: sacrifice some tires. A big burnout in front of the 4-H Club would surely appease any malevolent nature spirits, and help me keep my car in tip-top condition all winter. Plus, their office is right next to the tire shop that keeps throwing perfectly good tires in the dumpster behind their store. If one set of rears turned into smoke didn't do it, I could keep burning down more dead, oddly-round dinosaurs until the cops came home.

Through my efforts, I wasn't attacked by cops, or even vampires. What happened was that some stray ember from my bare rims striking the pavement set the adjacent corn field on fire, and I had to get out of there in a hurry, leaving my work undone. Those farmers are gonna be pissed when those spooky little girls start crawling out of their TVs.

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once. Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped. Fit: What?! Mike: Together. Pac: Yeah, together. Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?

Here's Pac and Mike's entire kidnapping story, since the version Pac told during yesterday's Halloween event was incomplete (and pretty tame).

[ Complete Transcript ↓ ]

Pac: Mike, have you ever been robbed?

Mike: Yeah. Yeah, I think.

Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once.

Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped.

Fit: What?!

Mike: Together.

Pac: Yeah, together.

Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?

Pac: [Pac and Mike cheer] Was so cool Fit, was so cool that day.

Mike: Pac almost got his finger shot.

Pac: Yeah, they almost shot in our van- actually, they shot near our van, right? But they missed it for a few inches.

Mike: So we had these shows called- I'm going to explain the whole history.

Pac: Here we go!

Mike: We have these shows called Tazercraft Party when we go all over the state of Brazil.

Fit: Yeah?

Mike: And once we are heading to this city, and it was like 3am. And we have to arrive there early to make our show, to prepare the scenery, to prepare the stage.

Fit: Oh, I see, yeah yeah.

Mike: And then we were like on this van, really late in the night, and then we heard a gunshot. And then a car just crossed in front of our van, stop at the van, and entered two guys armored with guns and with that- uh...

Pac: Wearing balaclavas, Fit! Wearing balaclavas.

Mike: Yeah yeah. And they said like, "Everyone stay quiet. I'm going to take you-"

Pac: [Interrupts him with rapid-fire Portuguese, imitating what the kidnappers said, and Mike joins in with him]

Fit: Wow.

Mike: And then they took us to like a really far away place on the road was really dark and the moon was shining like the sun. And then they told us to put the hands against our hats and just wait until they took all the baggage and luggage. They even took our shoes!

Pac: Yeah!

Mike: And I had this Smartwatch that I bought like one- two days ago. And it got stolen too. We lost everything! We lost everything. Our cell phones, our luggage. But it was in a really sketchy place. \

Pac: Yeah, in the middle of nowhere!

Mike: Yeah, it was literally in the middle of nowhere.

Pac: [Cheerfully] But yeah, Brazil is pretty cool, you know, you should come!

Fit: [Laughs] Oh god.

Mike: There's this famous streamer- there's this famous streamer that plays LoL that he didn't want to give his baggage, his luggage, to the bandits. And one of the bandits said to Pac, "Hold the locker," that he's going to shoot the locker up open.

Pac: Yeah, but it was like, a small locker you know, and he was just going to fire at my fingers, you know. And I completely lost my mind you know, like, "Hey, hey! You're- you're going to make me lose a finger! Don't do that!" And you know, I could smell the gunpowder from his gun because he just fired it.

Mike: This motherfcker. He didn't want to get the keys off his luggage. I hate him.

Pac: [Laughing] Yeah. At the end, I didn't lost the fingers, and you know- Brazil is the BEST. Fit, please come to Brazil! [Cheers]

Mike: Brazil Fit!

Pac: It's going to be alright, it's gonna be alright! Alright alright.

Fit: That's- that's probably the most casual retelling of a kidnapping story I've ever heard. That's insane.

Pac: We used to call this a "Lightling McQueen" kidnapping it because it was really fast. We were kidnapped for 2 - 3 hours you know. Not a long time. So it was a lighting McQueen kidnapping.

Mike: Yeah...

Fit: Oh, I see. So wait, hold on– I'm still stuck on this kidnapping story. So wait- how long ago did this happen?

Pac: Three years, Mike?

Mike: Three years? Three or four years.

Pac: Three or four years.

Fit: ...Wow, that's crazy.

Mike: Let's show one of our shows to Fit.

Pac: At the end Fit, at least for me, I always try to see the things from the bright side. So at least for me, I learned a lot from this day. I learned that like, you need to avoid robberies and you need to avoid bad guys and also gunshots. And I learned that you always need to... to stay sharp, you know? So that was actually pretty cool. And I have an amazing story to tell everyone! So at the end, it was like a win, at least for me. I would be kidnapped again, you know, if I wasn't- if somebody doesn't shot me, you know.

[rain0tes]

Hi hi love your hacker reader a bit too much it's great!! What would be their reaction to sir pentious trying to join the hotel? And the little eggbois once he starts staying there for real?

Hacker!reader's reaction to Sir Pentious trying to join the hotel.

Hacker!reader actually comes in after the heaven vs. hell battle, when Pentious has already been redeemed. This is an alternate scenario where you've been in the hotel a few weeks before Pentious makes an appearance.

Warnings: mature language and jokes, mentions of violence (although nothing too explicit), all the obvious hazbin stuff

You've been at the Hazbin Hotel for a few weeks. Although not fully convinced by the idea of redemption, having a roof over your head while easing into your new life (or afterlife) was nice.

You find a friend in most of the other wayward souls in the hotel, especially Charlie, who was more than excited when you show up.

The actual story starts when Pentious comes crashing into the hotel the first time. Literally.

You were having tea with Alastor out on the balcony when you feel the ground below yourself shake.

"Show yourself, Alastor."

That earns the radio demon a side eye from you, which he only shrugs at.

You see the others go outside in your peripheral, wanting to check out what the commotion was about. You shrug and head down as well, actually using the stairs since not everyone can just warp through shadows.

You stand beside Alastor, squinting at the giant blimp as they conversed.

"When I've slain you, the almighty Vee's will finally acknowledge me as their equal."

"Ooh! Wait, who are the Vee's?"

"Aren't they that tacky trio with the crap network security?"

"They're no one important."

One beating later, Pentious is on the ground after Alastor has decimated his war-blimp...thing.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience."

"Thank...you...for letting your guard down! Haha!"

Pentious rips off a part of Alastors suit, causing you to physically wince.

"Ah, you shouldn't have done that."

You can't help but chuckle when you see him get sent flying.

"Looks like team rockets blasting off again."

You expected that to be the last time you'll be seeing of him (at least in a while), but it seems that fate has other plans when someone comes knocking on the hotels doors only six hours later.

Vaggie was the one to answer, and he almost got skewered upon sight. Charlie seemed excited that he showed up, tho, and somehow you're not surprised.

"Are you fucking nuts? This chump was trying to kill us like, literally six hours ago?"

"Yeah, exactly, are you seriously gonna let this pathetic loser live with us?"

They did, IN FACT, let the boyfailure in the hotel. You weren't too happy about it, and neither was angeldust (bonding through a common enemy).

You can't help but feel that something was odd about him, sensing an electrical device on him that was certainly not a phone. You remained quiet for the time being, if only to please Charlie by playing along with her activities (even if they did make you cringe just a tiny little bit).

You watch him slither sometime in the middle of the night, prompting you to follow him as you take a sip out of a monster energy can.

"A camera? Wow, that's pretty cheap. Certainly doesn't help my already low expectations of the Vee's"

Yeah, you caught him in the act when he was placing the camera. Angeldust already behind you, confronting Pentious while you pick up the device.

You take a screwdriver out of your pocket, disabling the thing but not damaging it, all while the two fight beside you.

Pentious immediately calls for backup once he's been outed to Vaggie and Charlie, only for Vox to laugh in his face.

"If they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself you miserable failure."

You immediately snatch the smartwatch. He may be right, Pentious certainly was a failure. But you've already decided that you're the only one who gets to insult him.

"Listen here, you musty little bitch. You either shut the fuck up or I do it for you."

He's tearing up as you throw the meanest sentences he's ever heard to Vox. Some of them even sound poetic to some degree.

"Two thousand years of constant human evolution only to make some simple minded cunt."

Immediately refers to you as his best friend after this. You waged war on an overlord of hell for him. There's no take backsies.

For once, there's someone in the hotel who's not actively looking out for you, but you're the one looking out for him instead.

You two would share ideas ALL the time.

One thing you'd accomplish together is making a clone of you. He made the android, you made the A.I it would run on.

"Would it technically be mastur-"

"Don't you dare continue that sentence."

The main difference is that the Vee's know who you are in this one. Actively waging war against them instead of remaining anonymous. All because you've decided that the weird boyloser snake is actually kind of endearing.

I might make another part to this one where the reader participates in the hell vs heaven battle.

(masterlist)

[maleyanderecafe]

Kaede, the yandere boyfriend (Oneshot)

Created by: Murasaki yukari/Isako

Genre: Smut

It's been a while since I've done a yandere smut translation, but here we are. This one is actually surprisingly pretty sweet considering that Saya does accept Kaede at the end. Very cute. Originally this was going to be something that was translated with the translation group I'm in, but unfortunately I'm really impatient. As always if you like my work you can always donate to me at kofi.com/lunaslurp.

The story starts out with Saya recalling Kaede's confession to her in university. While she is happy about the confession, she also feels really inadequate next to him, wondering why he confessed to her all this time. During their date, Kaede gives Saya a smartwatch, something she initially refuses due to the fact that she had already gotten another gift from Kaede earlier, a necklace. She eventually agrees to keep it, though she does feel bad about it. At her job, she gets invited by a coworker to go out and eat with the other coworkers. She asks Kaede and after a brief questioning of if there will be any guys, she eventually decides to go. During the hangout, a bunch of guys come in and crash the party, with Saya being too awkward to try to leave. One of the guys starts to talk to her and compliment her, making good conversation about a comedy show they both like. At this point, Kaede starts to call her like crazy, with her watch and necklace buzzing as well. Eventually, Kaede comes in person to drag Saya away from the other people, basically getting jealous and having sex with her. During the sex, Saya asks if Kaede does love her, which he does respond with a happy yes. He also reveals that Saya is actually quite popular with people and that because of this he had to isolate her by getting rid of the other guys. He also mentions that her phone, necklace and watch are bugged with a gps tracking device. While he talks about this, he does seem to feel that Saya is unlucky to be with him, but Saya accepts all of him regardless, happy that he has confessed to her in this way. After some more sex, we get a flashback to when Kaede fell in love with Saya in the first place. Kaede had apparently been involved between some sort of fight between the girls, and was talking to Saya about it. Saya states that he should treat himself with kindness as well just as he treats the girls with kindness and falls for her in that regard. The next day, Saya apologizes to her coworkers for suddenly bailing, giving them the money. Her coworkers ask if that man was her boyfriend, to which she responds happily, even complimenting him ina a lovey dovey way. Upon leaving, Saya finds Kaede evesdropping on the conversation with the earbuds he has on, embarrassed that Saya said such things, presumably for her to hear. The coworkers talk about how Kaede is kind of scary, but if that the two of them are happy, then it's okay.

This story kind of reminds me of Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, “I love you too,” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~, which is the other smut I translated, since they both accept the yandere during sex. Of course, Yandere Killing!! is much more comedic in nature while this one is more sweet, but it is weird that it happened twice. I honestly did think initially that Saya's feelings of inadequacy were actually caused by Kaede, but it actually turns out they both felt they weren't good enough for each other, which kind of adds to that sort of sweet factor when they do end up confessing to each other. Kaede has the general factor of stalking Saya through tracking devices, namely on her various gifts that she was given, so it was cute that in the end Saya basically talked about how much she loved Kaede presumably so that he would hear it as well through the devices. Though as a smut, other than the cuteness factor (both in the story and between the people who made it), I don't really have too much to say. It's cute, the artwork is rather nice and it has some yandere things in it.

Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy this translation. I don't really have much to say about it, but I hope you do read it because I did take the time to translate it. If you have suggests for what yandere manga to translate from Chinese to English let me know.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 52 – DAILY THEMES

EXES TO LOVERS

Finding A Way Back by Neverever

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,219 Tags: Mutual Pining, Spiders, Superfamily

Summary: When Tony hurts his back, ex-husband Steve stays with him to take care of their son, Peter. Peter likes this arrangement a lot.

Reasons why I love it: Aww, thank god for Peter and his meddling ways, otherwise Steve and Tony might never have gotten their heads out of their asses. Peter is absolutely adorable in this even when he's being a terror, I love him so much. And the way Steve and Tony make up is super sweet. I love this fic, and I bet you will too, so I hope you check it out!

How to Date a Superhero Without Even Trying by sabrecmc

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 18,270 Tags: Identity Porn, Interrupted Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Based on a prompt from a Tumblr Anon, it's 2am and Tony drunk dials his ex. He gets Captain America instead.

Reasons why I love it: God, I want to punch Ty and his little lackeys straight in the face. Thank god for Steve swooping in to save the day. As always, sabre's writing is impeccable, the backstory is fantastic, and I really love the resolution at the end. This fic is part of her Thank You Fics Round 3, and I've actually recced another one of these before, but once again I want to encourage you to just read all of them, because they're all amazing.

all I ever knew of love by mistymountainking

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 10,394 Tags: Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Tony

Summary: For six months, nobody knew that Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were dating. Which means no one knows they broke up six weeks ago.

Reasons why I love it: Aw, look at our idiot boys in love! The angst is so good, and the fluff at the end makes it even better. I'm always a sucker for near-death experiences, and this one is truly excellent! Definitely check this one out, it's amazing!

sorry not sorry by earliebirb

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,506 Tags: Office AU, No Powers AU, Fluff

Summary: The moment he steps into the pantry, he starts to wonder if his dependence on caffeine has truly reached concerning levels to the point of causing hallucinations because standing right there in the pantry of the New York office is one Steve Rogers.   Tony’s ex-boyfriend is standing right there, arranging some boxes on the kitchen counter, like he’s been there all along and not living in Germany for the past two years. 

Reasons why I love it: I love a cheeky Steve who knows what he wants, especially if what he wants is Tony. This fic is super cute – Tony is an adorable mess, and Steve clearly wants to eat him up just as much as that box of donuts. And the ending is super sweet. I hope you go and check this one out for yourself, because it's lovely!

Rocky Road by sayah1112

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 12,045 Tags: Identity Porn, Assumed Cheating, Threats of Violence

Summary: Tony Stark has been kidnapped... again. This time is different that the others, though, because his kidnappers are not interested in a ransom. They mean to kill him. His only hope rests upon the smashed smartwatch on his wrist that doesn't seem to want to work. When a call finally goes through, it's to the last person in the world he wants to talk to. His ex-boyfriend, Grant Stevens, who he put in his phone as FuckHead.

Reasons why I love it: I really love the misunderstanding here, it's completely reasonable for Tony to have thought what he did despite the truth. And the torture scene made my skin crawl, it's so well-written. Plus, the ending where they make up is really sweet. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so I hope you check it out!

[painsandconfusion]

Ethan's Ship

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Forty-four

(tw: death threat, torture mention, manhandling, knife, fluff) [Previous | Masterpost | Next]

Ethan ignored how the wooden chair dug in against the bruises in his back. The rest of the position was comfortable, so he remained lounging there, slumped with feet kicked up on the corner of the dining table. Crossed and cozy as he carved dry, flaking blood out from under his nails with a pocketknife. No matter how many passes he took, there always seemed to be a little more pressed up against the tender white skin that hid beneath the keratin. Strange how parts of the body could be so dark while others were so bright. How blood gathers in one place more than another. How the crevices and curves seemed to suck in the wrongness and blight.

Human bodies had always fascinated him. He never had any interest in studying them at a medical level. To some extent, that seemed like disrespecting the body. Studying it to the point that you knew every sinew and cell by name depersonalized it. It took away from the glory and wonder of the gore and put a focus on the mechanical, computeristic labels. Neat, pretty diagrams where flesh is held back by calipers took so much beauty out of the scene.

He’d much rather rip someone open himself and have the lines between flesh, fat, and bone be blurred and smudged by welling blood. He didn’t need to know what the terminology was. He only really cared for feeling the warmth under his fingers.

Pass by pass, the little blade scraped and carved away both the dust of the nail itself and the little flakes and freckles of black so they fluttered down to his shirt or the floor. He’d sweep it up later if Nate didn’t get to it first.

That man was so strange. Ethan hadn’t ever greatly disliked household chores, but he certainly didn’t love them. Yet, cleaning seemed to be a comfort to Nate. When the bitch was stressed, he’d mop or shove cleaners and ice down the garbage disposal. He’d scrub down the toilets and sanitize the railings. Wax the key-holes or scrub at grout with a wire-bristled brush.

It didn’t make sense to Ethan, but he did appreciate not having to do much. Nate could snap at him for leaving plates or sweatshirts around the house, but he never seemed to expect Ethan to do any actual cleaning. If Ethan got to it first, fine. If he didn’t, Nate never brought it up.

Still, Ethan would make sure this got taken care of. He wasn’t going to leave blood around the house. Even if it wasn’t very visible, he wanted no evidence of there being people in the basement, and Nate agreed. Downstairs was for mess and blood. Upstairs was for bright, fresh order.

His train of thought was interrupted by the front door clicking open. It was locked unless Ethan’s bracelet with a computer chip embedded came close to it. It was a simple thing. Braided black leather. Thin enough it might just look like a hair-tie to the naked eye. He could take it on and off at will. Without it, Ethan hadn’t been able to escape this house. He’d needed to get ahold of the chip that was in Nate’s watch instead.

Ethan wondered if Nate had moved that chip by now. If it was still in his easily-removed smartwatch, or if he’d wisened up after Ethan’s escape and had it put into something else instead. Unfortunately, Nate was far too light a sleeper for Ethan to sneak into his room while he slept to swipe it when it was on charge. 

If he ever needed that chip, he would have to play trial and error in the moment.

Hooray.

“E-!?” Nate called out, sending his voice echoing through the house.

“Here,” he responded without much enthusiasm. Just still prodding at a spot of red that wouldn’t leave the innermost corner of his thumb. The dining table was close to the door - just obscured by the grand staircase that cut to the upstairs.

He liked it here. Hiding under the stairs. It was a comfort some days.

“Sup,” Nate greeted, stepping up and dropping a brown-paper-wrapped box in front of Ethan.

Ethan’s eyes admittedly perked up to the box, curious. Still refusing to look at Nate. “...what’s that supposed to be?”

“An apology,” Nate hummed, pulling a chair out and sitting down next to Ethan.

Ethan frowned at it, finally looking to Nate. “Do you think you can buy me off or something?”

Nate shrugs. “No. But I can make life a little more bearable. You’re right. He’s yours, not mine. If we’d switched places, I’d probably have killed you for almost taking him. Soooo… if not an apology, this is a ‘thank you for not killing me’ gift.” He flutter-blinked his eyes to ham up the delivery a bit because of course he did.

Ethan snorted half a laugh, pulling his feet off the table and clicking the knife shut. “What even is it?”

Nate raised a are-you-kidding-me-right-now brow. “...it’s giftwrapped. You’re supposed to open it to find out.”

Ethan sighed, picking at the paper until a corner ripped free. It tore straight across the box in a long strip.

Barely any color shone through that stripe, but Ethan knew exactly what it was. Not which model, of course, but he could see the planks. The gundeck. The edge of the stern.

“..you….got me a boat?”

Nate rolled his eyes, pulling back more of the paper for him. “A model that you can build.”

“I- I mean yeah, dipshit, I know what a model is.”

“Then why are you asking.”

“I wasn’t- This is basically a toy.”

“It’s not like it’s for kids or something. I have it on very good authority that this is ‘tOo DiFiCuLt’ for me to do to, so clearly it’s a very grownup thing.”

Ethan can’t help the laugh that puffs from his chest. “Yeah? Who said that?”

“Oh, no no, you need to hear the whole story-” Nate was standing just enough to straighten his chair - perfectly facing Ethan. He perched on the edge of it, hands poised up and locked in for storytelling.

“..you’re making a big deal out of this-”

“Of course I’m making a b- Do you even hear yourself? Have you met me? ‘BiiiG dEaL’ -Shut up-”

Alright, Ethan could admit he was smiling. “I stand uncorrected.”

“Damn right, you do.” He flicked his pointed finger down toward Ethan’s chair. “Though, the court should note that you are sitting right now.”

And the unimpressed glare was back.

Puns.

“So anyway~” Nate locked back into what seemed to be his official storytelling stance. “So I go into the store, right-?”

No response. Just listening.

Nate held the pause for a few moments before his eyes deadened. “This is where you say ‘yeah’?”

Ethan’s nose scrunched up. “Why? You’re going to tell the story anyway.”

“Oh no no no, I need constant verbal affirmation and engagement.”

“And I have to supply that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“Do you see anyone else here,” Nate posed, gesturing around the house.

Ethan’s arms crossed, almost playful in this stubbornness. “And if I don’t want to~?”

Nate’s eyes shifted somehow at that challenge - a certain hunger there dragging across Ethan as a spark of intrigue. Nate’s hand clicked open his own knife under the table. He lifted it just enough to drag the point across the table. Not even enough to scratch, yet enough to hum a pitched threat against the wood. “Are you sure about that? I can be very persuasive~”

Ethan couldn’t quite decide if it’d be best here to glare or laugh, so he ended up with something between the two. Darkly amused. “You know you can’t make me do shit.”

“Oh? You seem very confident in that.” Nate rose slowly to his feet, looking down on Ethan for once.

“I am,” Ethan parried, at ease; slumped in his chair.

Nate took a small step closer, touching the knife to Ethan’s shoulder before slowly tracing it across the edge of his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt. “Never say never. I’ve had all kinds of ideas I never got to try out on you.”

Alright, he was tired of being under Nate. He pressed up (happy to see Nate move the knife to keep from cutting him), standing to look down on Nate. The knife did raise with him, though, staying pricked against his chest. Ethan snatched it, twisting it easily and simply out of Nate’s grip. 

He tossed it to the table.

Nate pouted, eyes following the knife. “Oh come on, how am I gonna get you to participate in the story??”

Ethan’s fingers gripped into Nate’s shirt, tugging him closer by it. Slightly upward. “You could always just tell the story.”

Nate’s grin flashed right back onto his face. “Oh, so you do want to know what happened~”

A sigh. “Well now I kinda do, so yeah. Start talking.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “Alright! Good enough for me- So-!” He clapped his hands together, not really caring about the grip on his shirt. “So I go into the store and start browsing, yeah? Not really looking for anything specific, mostly going off vibes.”

A pause.

Nate raised a brow, gesturing to Ethan as if to say ‘It’s your line’.

A sigh dragged out of Ethan’s chest with all the silent subtlety of a rusted bumper dragging behind an oldsmobile up the highway. “Y e a h ?” he forced out, the single syllable somehow multiplied and beaten out his throat with punched pronunciation.

Nate’s smirk made a reappearance, so fucking proud of himself for getting Ethan to play along. “There you go~ Very affirming thank you.”

Ethan shoved him backward, watching Nate flail until he landed hard in his chair again.

Sitting up immediately, Nate seemed unperturbed. “So I picked this one out right away and this lady who was working there came over to ask if I needed help.”

Ethan watched, waiting for Nate to continue as he sat back in his own chair. Nate did not continue. Just waiting for Ethan. 

Ugh.

Well, he wasn’t in the mood to have that petty fight again, so he prompted- “And?” As pointedly as possible.

“And I asked her about the kit. The lady looked me up and down and had the audacity to say ‘are you sure you can handle this model?’ Like. In the bitchiest voice you can imagine.”

“Ooo- she sure showed you.”

“Yeah yeah whatever- anyway- She said she didn’t want to sell it to me. Insisted that I wouldn’t be able to handle it and would bring it back for a refund all ruined. So I had to ask for the manager and it was a whole thing.”

Ethan breathed a laugh, reaching forward to pick up and examine the box. “Yeah, okay Karen.” He flipped it over, eyeing the pieces and the complexity of the details. “...wait this one? This is the one she said you couldn’t make??”

“...yeah-?”

Another laugh snickered out of him as he popped open one of the flaps and rummaged under the cardboard to pick out the info sheet. “This is like… level two or something, Nate-”

Nate’s nose scrunched up. “What does that mean?”

“It means you must have looked pretty pathetic to her if she didn't think you could do it.” He hummed, looking over Nate with pity in his eyes and a pout on his lips. “I’m not sure I disagree,” he cooed.

Nate scoffed a laugh. “Um- rude-??”

A shrug as he looked back to the paper, unfolding it to see how many stages there were. “Just saying.”

“So you think you can do it, but I can’t??”

“Yeah, pretty much. Too bad I’m not building it.”

Nate pressed a hand to his chest, practically clutching his pears. “You would just throw this away after I went to all that work to get it for you???”

“Uh-huh-” He was just a bit distracted looking over the instructions. It was a good size. Absolutely huge. A statement piece rather than simple decor or a project. He didn’t even know where they’d put it…

“Ethan, if you don’t build this, I’m going to build it myself and paint it with your blood.”

“Mm. Very nice visual,” he murmured, plucking up some of the planks to survey them. They were.. admittedly a great quality. He didn’t think they’d split under the tacks. Each plank separate and perfect rather than the cheap full-decked pieces that department store models had.

“I thought so, thanks.”

So much missing, though… cheap sets assume you don’t have the essential tools and include shit versions of them. Better models do have faith in you, and therefore give you nothing.. “I don’t think this comes with half of the supplies we need to build it. You’ll have to go back to the store.”

“Oh no, fuck that. Drive to the store yourself.”

The corner of Ethan’s mouth twitched up slightly as he pulled out the rope. It was so well corded for being so small. Incredibly realistic. Far better than the little bits of string the others he worked on had.

“..yeah okay, have fun with that,” Nate eventually said after there was no response. He Stood, swiping his knife back up and closing it.

“I’m not gonna build it, I’m just looking.”

Ethan could feel eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking back. He started pulling more things out, compiling the pieces of the project into a line by what stage of building he’d need them in.

“...uh huh. I’m making coffee - you want some while you work?”

“Oh- yeah sure, thanks,” he muttered, distracted as he ripped open the package with the ribs inside.

“No problem.”

Things quieted down again after that. No one spoke again for hours once Nate had brought the steaming mugs through to the table. They just sipped at coffee as Nate sketched and Ethan planned out what he’d need to get to put this monster together.

David might not be here to help him build this one, yet it still seemed that he was somewhere much closer than before; as if he were secretly watching Ethan work from some corner of the room, whiskey in hand. Just another ship they’d build together.

[Previous | Masterpost | Next]

tags: @prisonerwhump

@whumpawink

@wormwriting

@distinctlywhumpthing

@whump-cafe

@jo-doe-seeking-inspo

@azayta

@batfacedliar-yetagain

@there-will-always-be-blood

@siren-of-agony

@whumpworld

@deltaxxk

@whumpasaurus101

@pickywhumpreader

@whumpberry-cookie

@morning-star-whump

@nailevislev

@throwawaywhumper

@the-mourning-star

@d-cs

@pigeonwhumps

@suspicious-whumping-egg

@snakebites-and-ink

@whumpedydump

@whumplr-reader

@rainbowsandwhumperflies

@starfields08000

@crystallizedme

@lumpofsand

@taterswhump

@starsick1979

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

(Sorry for the weird taglist, tumblr has been rude lately)