#different kinds of grumps I suppose

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Great Boopathon

Twilight

It had honestly been an accident, a truly sincere miscalculation. Sky tried to remember that Wolfie was Twilight. But sometimes, when the fluffy animal trotted into town, panting from exertion or cheer, Sky just immediately knelt in front of him with a sweet greeting and a gentle boop on the nose.

He didn't think it was possible for an animal to look so offended, but somehow Twilight managed it.

Sky

This was war.

Twilight huffed as he watched Sky sleep. The teenager was out cold, as per usual, curled into himself and covered in blankets. It was a little more unusual than his usual sleep position, in which literally anything was possible because he could fall asleep literally anywhere, but the boy's head cold had him shivering.

That didn't stop Twilight, though. He still remembered the boop. The completely humiliating and degrading gesture, the cute noise Sky made with it as he bapped Twilight's wolf nose gently with a smile on his face and a flush to his cheeks.

Sky moaned miserably, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Twilight swallowed, grabbing his resolve. He walked forward stealthily before laying on the ground, his canine nose stretching forward until it met Sky's own congested one. Then his tail swished back and forth, dusting leaves off the earth.

Sky scrunched his nose in response, tickled by the wetness of it, before he opened his eyes to see a snout. He yelped, trapped in his blankets, and Twilight pounced on him, bapping him with a paw and pinning him in place as he laughed and tried to fight.

Abel

"There's no way you can do it!"

Link glared defiantly in response. He would do this, and there was no stopping him. He would always rise to a challenge. He couldn't afford to fail, he couldn't afford to lose the faith of those who believed in him.

He was stealthier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He could pass for a Sheikah, he was certain. His heart pounded in his chest, anxiety trying but failing to whittle away at his resolve. His naysayer watched with bated breath.

The greatest challenge, of course, were the floorboards. There were some that creaked. It would be absolutely catastrophic if his foe heard his approach. Carefully, Link tried to remember which boards creaked the most, settling his bare feet with such care to distribute his weight properly.

When he finally reached the bed, he nearly failed in his mission. His enemy stirred, almost awakening, but he managed to avoid disaster. Finally, his objective in sight, the Hero of Hyrule leapt, landing on his prey with a mighty hyah.

Abel nearly jumped out of his skin as he was startled awake before getting slammed in the face with a pillow.

"I told you I could do it!" Link yelled at the stairway where his sister, Lyra, was hiding.

Daruk

The leader of the Gorons had many precious memories to make him smile when he was more contemplative in the evenings. Perhaps his favorite, though, was when the Champions met his child, who had been so delighted to meet them that he'd rolled over Revali's toes and crashed into Link's knees, knocking the Hylian over. It had been a fun day in general, but the little boop his boy had given him when he picked him up had been the most delightful part.

It was usually what Daruk would do for the child before bedtime; to have such a simple gesture reciprocated brought him more joy than he could ever articulate.

Shadow Link

He had nearly succeeded in getting away from the damn gloom hands, but his stamina had run out. When they'd caught up to him, he could practically sense the displeasure radiating off them, and his insides froze at the sight of them.

Then one of the hands leaned over and booped him on the nose, making him yelp, before the others grabbed him and teleported him through the gloom back to Ganondorf's location.

"Was that really necessary?" Link grumbled, holding his nose as if it had been burned.

"Yes," the demon king replied without hesitation as he snatched him by his tunic and plopped him beside him. "Now rest."

Mystery Link

Link wasn't sure how it happened, but being completely smothered by his dog was not how he wanted to start his mornings. Nevertheless, it was how Friend decided to be his new morning alarm, slapping his face with a paw as a warning before laying her whole head over him and asphyxiating him.

By the fifth morning, he started wrestling her in response, and she always got so excited about it that she would spend the next few minutes zooming all over the forest, tail tucked and legs flailing in all directions.

Wind

Twilight was acting weird.

Wind was a little worried. After all, he'd only just recovered from his injury recently. Although the sailor had the utmost faith in the elder Hero's abilities, he couldn't help but watch him and see what was up. This was a matter of great importance, and only Wind could truly understand as the others seemed completely oblivious.

He made several observations while the others were pointlessly distracted. Twilight's eyes were wary, looking everywhere as if he were expecting an attack. Wind knew for certain that the rancher hadn't been patrolling because Time and Wild wouldn't allow for it quite yet. But no one else was on edge. It was possible Twilight just felt inadequate or useless, as he was typically the one who tried to shoulder a great deal of responsibility.

Wind moved closer to his dear friend, curious. He was going to ask him outright if he kept this behavior up, but--

Twilight gasped, grabbing Wind around the ribs and holding him like a shield in front of his body, and Wind yelped as Sky poked his nose.

"Hey!" Sky snapped. "No cheating!"

"There are no rules in this war!" Twilight huffed back. Then he gave Wind a squeeze against his torso as a compensatory hug. "Sorry about that, little pirate."

"Ha! Sorry? Let me go, I'll avenge you!" Wind happily offered, already wiggling out of his grip as Sky fled.

Time

"This is getting out of hand," Time said severely, hands on his hips. "And is unbefitting of a Hero."

Twilight looked extremely schooled. If he were in his wolf form, he probably would have his tail between his legs, ears peeled back. Time did not feel guilty in the slightest about it. The camp was in utter disarray, supplies strewn everywhere as Twi's wolf form had utterly destroyed the place and barreled over most of the heroes while he'd tried to escape Sky's little winged mechanical booping machine and Wind's exuberant screams.

Unlike Twilight, Sky looked nearly indifferent, but somehow he managed to convert his expression to apologetic when Time glared at him. Wind, however, was unrepentant.

And giggling.

Time was going to lecture him further when the reason for Wind's laughter dropped out of the nearest tree, landing on Time's shoulders and booping him on the nose.

Sky and Wind cheered as Wild scrambled off Time and fled into the forest, giggling all the way.

[munson-blurbs]

Hello! I stumbled upon your “meet-cute post” and thought it was really cool, so here’s my request :)

I’m Lauren, my pronouns are she/her, and I’d like to be paired with Eddie Munson. I’m an INFP enneagram 4w5, I’m awkward, anxious, creative, quirky, caring and shy. I love listening to music of all sorts of genres, reading and thrifting.

I hope you have fun writing these requests and thank you for doing this 🩷

You meet Eddie while thrifting with your roommate, Robin!

CW: Eddie is initially a bit of a grump WC: 625 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

“I’m telling you,” you said to your new roommate, Robin, as you opened the door to the thrift store. “They have the best stuff. I’ve already been here, like, five times.”

Robin laughed incredulously. “You’ve only lived in Hawkins for two weeks, and you’ve been here five times?”

“I didn’t ask to be judged,” you huffed, but a smile betrayed your feigned annoyance. Moving to a new town and starting a new job was definitely overwhelming, but it helped that you’d quickly befriended your roommate. “But yes. And now you get to see it for yourself.”

It was no surprise that you’d found a thrift store almost immediately after moving. Whether you were in your hometown or exploring somewhere new, you always managed to find a secondhand store to find one-of-kind trinkets. It felt like fitting the final piece of a puzzle. 

So when Robin had made a comment that morning about wanting a bookshelf but not paying an arm and a leg for it, you knew exactly where to go. 

You made a beeline for the furniture section without allowing yourself to browse the clothing aisles; you were here for Robin and her bookshelf, and you couldn’t be distracted. 

Until you saw it: a record player, the wood a shiny cherry red, in near-pristine condition. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, not waiting for Robin to acknowledge your absence. 

You had a record collection back at the apartment of different albums you’d acquired over the years. Everything from Elvis to Johnny Cash to Madonna sat in a box that had yet to be unpacked. You ran your fingers over the corner where there was the tiniest chip, and imagined the sounds of music filling your room, melodic and harmonious—

“Son of a bitch!” A frustrated voice yanked you from your daydream. 

You whipped around to see a guy, right around your age, standing behind you. He was scowling at you, his denim jacket-clad arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Um, sorry, is this—were you going to buy it?” Heat rushed through your body. Had you been too hasty in your excitement?

The man’s expression softened when he saw your nervousness. It was then that you realized how good-looking he was. His frizzy curls formed a halo around his face, juxtaposed by the faded devil emblem on his shirt. 

“No. I mean, yeah, I was, but you—it’s yours,” he stammered. Cocking his head to the side, he studied you for a moment before asking, “do we know each other?”

You shook your head. “I just moved here. That’s why my roommate and I are shopping; we’re supposed to be getting new furniture. Well, she is,” you sheepishly amended. “I’m supposed to be helping her, not finding more stuff for myself.”

He laughed. “Listen, you take the record player. I’ll find one another time.”

“I really don’t need it.” 

“Well, neither do I.” The corners of his mouth quirked up into a smile. “But it would be a shame if it went to the home of someone who was just going to let it sit in the corner. Or worse…” He raised his brows. “Someone who’ll use it to listen to disco.”

Your mouth dropped open in protest. “Don’t knock ABBA till you’ve tried them!”

“Oh, my God.” He scoffed and chewed on his lower lip in consideration. “All right, how about this: we split custody. That way she’s exposed to good music and,” he grimaced, “ABBA.”

You stuck out your hand. “Deal.”

He accepted your offer, shaking your hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and he let his fingers linger against yours for an extra beat.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “You got a name, co-parent?”

--

[angelispunk222]

it’s nice to have a friend!

joel miller x sweet girl y/n ୨ৎ

warning - fluff!!! super cute!!

-

joel miller wasn’t much of a talker. his rugged exterior and tough demeanor often kept people at bay. but for some reason, Y/N was different. she was a ray of sunshine in a world that seemed perpetually overcast, her laughter like the tinkling of wind chimes on a breezy day. joel found himself drawn to her warmth, despite his efforts to keep his distance.

It was late afternoon when Joel pulled up to Y/N’s house, his truck rumbling softly as the countryside wind started to pick up. she’d called him earlier, her voice trembling with the weight of stress and worry. he didn’t need to ask twice before offering to take her on a drive—anything to see her smile again.

Y/N climbed into the passenger seat, immediately giving joel a gentle kiss. her eyes red-rimmed but brightening at the sight of him. “hey, joel!” she greeted, her voice soft yet hopeful.

“hey, darlin’,” Joel replied, his voice rough but tender. “figured we could use a little escape, huh sweet pea?”

she nodded, a small blushing smile playing on her lips “yeah, that sounds perfect.” she holds back a giggle of excitement

as they drove out of the city, the scenery transformed from concrete and steel to rolling hills and open fields. joel glanced over at Y/N occasionally, her face relaxed as she took in the view. The song playing on the radio was soft, almost as if it was serenading their journey.

“so, what’s been on your mind hun?” Joel asked, his tone gentle and warm.

y/n sighed, resting her head against the window. “just…everything. work’s been tough, and I feel like I’m constantly running on empty. I needed this, Joel. I needed to just…breathe..it’s tough when i’m alone, ya know? mind constantly fills up with all these thoughts..and.”

Joel reached over, his hand finding hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you, Y/N. always. just call me over whenever you want sweet pea. you know i could be a grump sometimes,huh? but i can still take care of ya. isn’t that right?”

She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “thank you, joel. you don’t know how much that means to me.” she almost breaks down into a sob because of how gentle joel is being with her..knowing no one else could ever treat her with such kindness.

joel pulled over at a scenic overlook, noticing you being in the midst of your breakdown, he put the car in park and pulled you into his lap. as he wraps his arms around you he whispers “it’s okay sweet girl.. just don’t cry for me hun, okay?everything will be just fine sweet thang’ i swear to you..no doubt about it.”

she nods her head, wiping the tears away from her eyes and softly kisses joel. “i love you joel, please never go away..promise?” joel looks up at the girl with the vulnerable sweet eyes and just smiles at her exclaiming “of course my love, i love you”

“c’mon, let’s stretch our legs,” he suggested, his voice softer than usual. joel placed the girl on the passenger seat. shutting his door, and running to the other side to open it for y/n before she beats him to it.

y/n followed him to the edge of the overlook, the gentle breeze tugging at her hair. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting the stress of the past weeks melt away.

“It’s beautiful here,” she murmured.

joel nodded, his eyes not on the view but on her. “yeah, it is.”

she turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. “you’re not even looking at the view, joel.”

he chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “i am. just’ a different one i suppose’ huh?”

y/n blushed, the warmth in her cheeks spreading to her heart. she reached up, cupping his face in her hands. “you’re a good man, joel miller.”

he leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly. “only because of you, y/n.”

they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the sun dipped below the horizon. In that moment, all the stress and worries of the world seemed to vanish, replaced by the simple, profound joy of being together.

as they made their way back to the truck, Y/N slipped her hand into Joel’s, their fingers intertwining. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. they didn’t need words to express what they felt. Sometimes, it was just nice to have a friend—and in each other, they’d found so much more.

the end!

tell me what you think as always ;)

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Hidden embers

Chapter 4

Chapter summary: Joel made the mistake of touching you once and now it’s all he can think about.

A/N: boy oh boy, y’all better strap in for this one. I know i said last chapter was my favorite to write, but scratch that cause this one is on a whole other level. I’m so stoked you guys are liking this, I’m having a little writers block at the moment and your comments always motivate me to get back into it. I wanted to take a second to thank my wonderful beta reader @hautecouture02 , she hypes me up every time I finish a chapter and it melts my heart. Anyways enough yapping, commence the smut.

Warnings: No outbreak AU, no use of y/n, no sarah, Age gap, DBF!Joel, Slow burn (I’m adding this to the series warnings cause i’m making y’all suffer a bit), detailed description of masturbation, sexual fantasies about FMC

Series masterlist

Joel shouldn’t have touched you. He knew that. But the moment he saw you limping, something inside him snapped.

Every time he's been near you since that damn welcome-back party, he swore he’d keep his distance. No touching, no looking, no thinking. Those were his rules. If he could just stick to them, he’d be fine—he could sleep at night without his mind wandering to places it had no business going. Places involving his best friend’s daughter, in scenarios that would make any decent southern lady faint.

It was wrong—so beyond wrong it made his chest tighten just thinking about it. But it seemed like the universe was hell-bent on testing him. You were always there—bumping into him at the bottom of your stairs, getting paired up with him for fundraising, or falling off ladders he’d specifically warned you not to climb.

Those moments were justifiable in his mind. What was he supposed to do, let you hit the ground? But today was different. Today, he had no excuse.

He touched you when you weren’t in any immediate danger, when you didn’t need saving. You were just fine—if slightly injured, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Yet there he was, checking your ankle, picking you up and throwing you on his counter, grabbing your leg, and massaging it like he had any clue what he was doing.

The concern was real, sure, but he could’ve just handed you the bag of frozen peas and let you deal with it yourself. He should’ve done that. Now he was pacing in his kitchen, trying to shake off the thoughts that had flooded his mind the second he laid hands on you—the way his fingers had itched to move higher, his eyes struggling to stay on your ankle and not wander up to your thighs.

Those thighs, Lord help him. They were perfect. They would look so stunning marked up with bruises and bite marks from how thoroughly he’d devour them. He’d make sure to leave them low enough so they would peek below your dress, so anyone who looked at those thighs knew who they belonged to.

No. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.

He hadn’t been interested in dating or even casual hookups since the separation. In fact, he’d found a kind of peace in solitude, focusing on his work. But then you showed up, in that skimpy blue dress with those pretty white flowers, looking like you’d walked straight out of a dream.

He knew it then—he was beyond fucked. He refused to accept it, let alone act on it, but the way he felt the moment he first saw you was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

And so, he kicked you out. Actually, he meant to drive you home, but of course, your stubborn little ass had to go limping out of his house, preferring a fucked up ankle to spending another second around him. You seemed pretty pissed, and he didn’t blame you. He internally hoped you believed the rumors about him being an old grump—a nearly fifty-year-old prickly man.

If you kept your distance, he wouldn’t have to fight his urges. But something in the way you looked at him told him you wouldn’t make it that easy. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but you weren’t the type to make eyes at just anyone.

At the fundraiser, he saw plenty of guys—more age-appropriate and definitely better-looking—trying to chat you up. You were always kind and polite, but you never looked at them the way you looked at Joel. You never kept the conversation going with them like you did with him.

And that made it worse. Because if there was even the slightest chance, the smallest glimmer of hope that you felt something even close to what he was feeling, he wouldn’t be able to resist you. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing all the things he’d dreamed about.

God, he needed a cold shower. Or an hour-long ice bath. Maybe even a visit to the nearest church to confess his every sin—past, present, and future.

Joel barely registered walking to the bathroom, stripping down, and stepping into the shower. He was too lost in thought, too distracted by the pulsing ache in his chest that he refused to acknowledge, just so he could deny where it came from.

He should apologize, right? That’s the polite thing to do. But apologizing meant talking to you, seeing you again. And as much as he enjoys your company, every second around you was pure torture. Controlling his thoughts, holding back his hands from touching you where he really wanted to, swallowing all the things he wanted to say to you, from the sweetest compliments to the filthiest praise.

And the deep breaths he had to take every time you spoke, just to stop himself from imagining what you’d sound like being pleasured—what you’d sound like when someone was making you feel good.

Fuck that, he can’t even think about anyone else touching you. The thought of it made something inside him churn, and that was such a bad sign.

All of this was torture, and he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it. He’d been a good man—a good brother, a good son, a good friend, until recently.

He could’ve fallen for anyone else, any other girl in town. But he never stood a chance against you, with your gorgeous, fluttering eyes, your soft curves, those legs…

He came back around to those legs. How could he not? He could see them so clearly in his mind, propped up on his shoulders, soft kisses trailing along them as he pounded into you. Or holding them up as he knelt in front of you, using his mouth to show you just how crazy you drove him.

Maybe he should just rub one out. Maybe that would help, calm him down, clear his head. His cock is already hard, the need almost unbearable.

He runs his hands over his chest first, eyes closed, pretending they’re yours, slowly inching down to where he needs you most. You seem like the kind of girl who would make him suffer, tease him until he’s practically begging you to be good for him and let him cum.

So, he does just that. Under the steamy stream of water, he lets his hands roam, teasing himself the way he imagines you would—skimming over his thighs, hips, and lower stomach. The tension builds inside him until it’s unbearable, and he finally gives in, wrapping his hand around his thick cock, stroking it firmly but slowly.

Up and down, every stroke brings a new image of you to mind—your pretty pouty lips, your head thrown back, exposing that delicate neck, those heavenly tits bouncing with every movement. He can’t hold back the moans as he picks up the pace, his need growing more desperate with every passing second.

He starts imagining your taste, the way you’d clench around his fingers as he works them in tandem with his tongue. He’d eat you out for hours, show you what it’s like to be with a real man, make you cum more than once before he’s even inside you. And he knows—God, he knows—if he ever got a taste of you, he’d never be able to stop.

Once he’s inside, he’d go slow at first, if only to enjoy you for as long as he possibly could. He’d savor your every ragged breath, swallowing your moans with deep kisses. He’d whisper in your ear, telling you what a good girl you are, taking all of him so well, your tight pussy splitting open around his fat cock like it was made for him.

His grip tightens around his cock, the water running over his shoulders, doing nothing to cool the heat burning in his veins. Each stroke pulls him deeper into his fantasy, into the thought of you underneath him, squirming and moaning, your nails digging into his back as he drives into you, leaving a burning sensation that pushes him closer to his climax.

He can almost hear you—those soft, breathy whimpers, the ones you’d try to hold back but wouldn’t be able to when he’s got you right where he wants you. He’d make you say his name, over and over again, until it’s the only thing you can think of, the only thing you can feel as he fills you completely. He’d make you beg for it, stopping just as you were about to come, teaching you a lesson about that bratty little attitude you always carried around.

His pace quickens, the friction driving him closer and closer to the edge. He imagines you whispering filthy things in his ear, telling him how badly you need him, how good he feels inside you, how no other dick will ever compare. The thought makes him groan, low and deep, echoing off the shower tiles as his movements become more frantic.

Fuck, he’s so close. His mind floods with images of your body—your legs wrapped tight around his waist, your ankles pushing into his ass and pulling him deeper into you, your lips parted in pleasure, the way you’d look at him, eyes glazed over with lust, like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.

The tension inside him winds tighter and tighter until it snaps, and with a guttural moan, he comes hard, his release hitting him like a tidal wave. He braces himself against the shower wall, stroking himself through the intense pleasure, imagining how your body would clench around him, milking him dry as he fills you up.

For a few moments, he stays there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. But as the pleasure ebbs away, reality crashes down on him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of him. What the hell was he thinking? He runs a hand through his wet hair, leaning his forehead against the cool tiles.

He’s in deep shit, deeper than he ever wanted to be. And the worst part is, he knows this isn’t the end of it. It’s just the beginning. Because no matter how hard he tries, no matter how many times he swears he’ll stay away, the thought of you—of what he wants to do to you, with you—is always there, lurking in the back of his mind.

With a deep sigh, he turns off the shower, steps out, and wraps a towel around his waist. For the sake of his sanity, he swears to leave whatever the fuck that was between the four walls of his bathroom. Those thoughts can’t follow him out that door—they definitely can’t be around the next time he sees you. He needs to figure out how to keep his mind from being completely consumed by you, and fast.

Tag list: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @untamedheart81 , @mellymbee , @wintersquirrel , @chyannealaniz , @spiderman-n-n

[bleedingoptimism]

You Are Mine part 4 (NSFW)

There’s a weird energy on set the last day of shooting. Excitement for reaching the end for sure but also a kind of melancholy that soon it’s all going to be over. 

Eddie himself is so on edge he feels like he’s going to start levitating any minute now.

The first thing they shoot is a close-up of the Corrored boys plus Robin looking surprised as they pull a curtain on the bus tour that’s supposed to be revealing Eddie and Steve making out.

They will shoot the scene again actually featuring them there, later. But Argyle wanted to do a couple of different takes on it. And they do lots of them since they can’t stop laughing and putting on ridiculous overemphatic expressions.

And then, finally, it’s time to get the money shot. Argyle asks that only essentials stay on set to give Steve and Eddie some sense of privacy. And the boys leave grumping loudly all the way out of the set while Robin is dragged away by Jeff, walking backward and doing kissy faces at both of them.

Laughing Eddie turns to look at Steve, and he had been so excited with the thought of touching him, of feeling him close, that he hadn’t noticed until now, Steve looks really nervous.

Argyle is explaining to him how the scene goes, a comforting hand on his shoulder as he points at the set,

“You don’t have to lie down on the bunkbed, just stand near the wall. We can do you against it or Eddie, he’s comfortable with both so you can choose whichever floats your boat,” Argyle guides him, not noticing Steve getting progressively redder by the second,

“You just have to kiss him like your life depends on it, ok?” To his credit, Steve is nodding along to Argyle’s words and he has the smallest frown like he’s concentrating on the instructions, “Like you can’t get your hands off each other, you know.”

Once they are in place, with Eddie against the wall and Steve crowding him, he puts one hand on the wall next to Eddie’s head and the other on his shoulder. Eddie places his hands on Steve’s waist making him jump a little when his fingers dip under Steve’s shirt.

And Eddie can’t help but chuckle at the awkwardness of it all, this is not what he was imagining at all.

And he laughs when he’s nervous, sue him.

Still, he smiles at Steve reassuringly, trying to make him relax, “Nervous?”

Steve visibly swallows and shakes his head, “I’m fine,” he says, totally not fine.

He’s making Eddie nervous now. He feels he misinterpreted everything that happened the last few days with how reluctant Steve seems at the thought of kissing him, and he wants to ask for a time out and talk to him about it, but before he can, Argyle calls for action and next thing he knows is Steve is kissing him.

And it’s a good kiss, don’t get him wrong, Steve’s lips are just as soft and wonderful as they look and he’s an excellent kisser, but it’s soft and hesitant and not at all what they were supposed to be doing. Steve is actually leaning in to kiss him, their lips being the only point of contact like this is a middle school dance and they need to leave room for Jesus.

Argyle lets it go on for a while before saying ‘cut’, no need for yelling in such a tight set.

Steve immediately steps always from Eddie, “Sorry” he says.

“Stevie, mind putting a little more oomph into that?” Argyle asks him softly like he’s trying not to spook him.

“Yeah, I know, sorry,” he says again, nodding and looking at the floor.

And Eddie is so fucking confused right now, is he into him or not? Maybe he’s nervous because he doesn't like an audience. He really thought they had something going on, what happened?

Argyle calls for action again and this time Eddie is the one who initiates the kiss. He goes all in on it, coaxing Steve to part his lips with his tongue and then Steve complies and then, oh then it’s a real kiss. 

Steve finally gets into it and if he thought Steve was a good kisser before he was a fool, a clown, a jester because he had no idea what was in line for him.

It’s fucking hot and passionate and everything he had imagined and he’s so into it he can’t help the sound that comes out of his mouth, and suddenly he’s standing alone, mouthing at nothing, the cold air of the set hitting him hard where he was just so warm against Steve. He opens his eyes confused and Steve is against the other wall, as far away as he can manage in the small space.

“Cut!, Steve?” Argyle asks him worried.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, sorry” Steve blabbers scrubbing a hand through his hair.

“Shit, should I have asked for an intimacy coordinator? Am I gonna get sued?” Argyle thinks out loud and Steve’s eyes open widely,

“What? Argy, of course not, I’m sorry! I-” but he doesn’t say anything else and just hugs himself and shrugs.

“Hey, Argyle give us a minute?” Eddie asks looking at Steve. He needs to know what’s going on inside that pretty head of his.

Argyle sighs but smiles reassuringly at Steve, he’s seriously done a fantastic job so far, and Argyle probably doesn't want him to feel bad for one little hiccup.

“Sure dude, let’s take an early lunch break, yeah?” he says to the few people left in the studio, “Be back in an hour”

Once everyone is gone Eddie turns back to Steve, ducking his head to catch Steve’s eye.

“What’s wrong?” he inquires shily, debating whether or not he should bring up how confused he feels.

Steve blushes and mumbles, “I’m sorry,”

“You keep saying that but I don't know what you are sorry for” He answers with a kind smile even as cold runs through his spine at the thought that Steve might be apologizing for leading him on.

“I'm not a professional!” Steve states suddenly looking around the studio, “I don’t know how- how am I supposed to not get worked up while making out with the loveliest, hottest guy I’ve ever met-”

‘Oh’

The blushing, the stiffness, the distance, they all take a new meaning with that. And Eddie, in a  completely obvious way looks at Steve, his eye landing on his crotch, where his wardrobe is doing a very poor job at hiding just exactly how worked up he is.

Eddie is delighted by this, so much so that he laughs and Steve frowns at him, and slaps his arm, “Don't laugh at me! Asshole” he whines, which makes Eddie laugh even harder.

And he grabs Steve by the waist and pulls him closer to him, purposely making their crotches touch, letting him feel how into him Eddie is too.

Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he bites his lip at the contact, 

“Oh,” Steve articulates eloquently.

“Yes, oh,”

And then Eddie kisses him again, kisses him like he wanted to from the moment he first saw him. Like he wants to eat him.

And Steve ups his game even more, positively driving him insane.

“Changing room?” Eddie offers dropping kisses from his lips to his jaw and neck.

“Uh?” Steve says and groans loudly when Eddie bites him.

“Little more private” Eddie chuckles licking Steve’s pulse point.

“Yes, fu- fuck yes,” Steve says and grabs Eddie’s wrist, dragging him with him as he practically runs there.

As soon as they are inside the changing room, Steve pushes Eddie against the door and kisses him so hard he bumps the back of his head against it, and he bolts the door shut behind him.

Steve chuckles and cradles the back of his head, “Sorry” he murmurs against his lips, Eddie bites his bottom lip and tells him to stop apologizing.

They make out fervently, can’t seems to get their hands off each other, not even to move farther into the room, and when Eddie pushes his hips into Steve’s looking for some friction Steve growls and picks Eddie up by the back of his legs, using the door as support. Eddie immediately hooks both his legs around Steve’s waist and fuck yeah that hits the spot.

Frank was right, Steve can pick him up with no effort, and it's really fucking hot.

The angle and the closeness are phenomenal, Steve is essentially humping him and it feels so fucking good. But it would feel a heck of a lot better if he could make Steve take his shirt off.

He lifts it up over his torso mapping the exposed skin but reaches a dead end when he hits Steve’s armpits. He’s going to have to drop Eddie to lift his arms and Eddie is conflicted between a shirtless Steve and being devoured against a door. Decisions, decisions…

In the end, he chooses nudity.

He unhooks his legs from Steve and stands, pushing the shirt up. Steve gets the message and lifts his arms letting Eddie take it off.

He shakes his hair out of his eyes and they stare at each other for a bit, trying to catch their breaths. And Eddie looks at him, and Jesus was the payoff worth it, Steve is fucking beautiful, with toned hard muscles and chest hair and moles, so many, many moles. He dives into Steve's neck and touches his chest, pushing his hand through the hair on his pecs, it’s absolutely lovely. 

Steve starts slowly unbuttoning Eddie's belt and jeans, “Eddie I want-” he starts but Eddie interrupts him,

“Yes, yes to whatever you want”

Steve chuckles and drops to his knees in front of him and Eddie's knees threaten to give up on him because holy shit.

He pulls Eddie’s boxers down mindful of the elastic and Eddie is thankful for that because his dick is so hard that if Steve is not careful he could lose an eye with it.

And he absolutely doesn’t laugh at his silly thoughts because right then Steve grabs the shaft of his dick and looks up at him,

“I want to see you again after the shoot is over, I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” He says right before he takes Eddie in his mouth.

Eddie moans and slaps his hands on the door loudly, he nods furiously even though Steve can’t see him do it, he’s too busy sucking obscenely, moaning when Eddie’s dick hits the back of his throat, he pulls back and forth a couple of times before pulling off completely and licking the head, looking at Eddie while he slowly jerks him off, “Can I take you out on a date? Please?”

“Yes! Fuck yes, of course.”

Steve smiles sweetly at him and goes back to trying to suck his brains out. A date? He wants to ask Steve to move in with him, marry him, never be away from him again, please.

Are you mine, please be mine, you are mine.

Shit.

He touches anywhere he can reach with his hands, following with his fingers the lines and angles of Steve's face, his jaw, his nose, his eyelids, how his cheeks hollow as he sucks, his eyebrows, and the little frown between them with worshiping soft touches and then cradles his hands through Steve’s hair and pulls.

Steve moans and Eddie feels it all over his own body.

It’s over pretty quickly after that, Eddie comes so hard he doubles over Steve and ends up resting his forehead on Steve's head.

His knees do give up then and he slides down the door legs sprawled open on either side of Steve’s and he grabs him by the cheeks and kisses him deeply.

Then, he moves his hands to Steve’s waist and slides him closer to him, palms his clothed erection.

Steve never stops kissing him, moaning and groaning and panting into his mouth as Eddie lowers his pants just enough to take his dick out and jerks him off fast and dirty.

Still kneeling, Steve holds himself steady by placing his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and then slowly moving them to circle around him and burying his face on Eddie’s neck, nipping at it between intakes of air. He’s hugging him close and moving his hips in sharp little trusts into Eddie's hand and it’s gotta be the prettiest thing Eddie has ever experienced.

Worked up as he was after giving Eddie the best blowjob of his life, Steve comes pretty fast, and Eddie tries to catch most of it on his palm, bringing it to his mouth and tasting him, making sure to keep eye contact as he does so.

Steve groans and lets himself fall to the floor theatrically, “Fuck! You are so hot.”

It makes Eddie laugh, “Right back at ya,” he tells him and he barely has time to catch his breath before Steve sits right back up,

“Shit! What time is it? We need to get back, did I stain my pants?!” He says frantically looking at himself and checking his crotch.

Eddie just keeps laughing and watches him walk around the room, looking for his shirt and trying futilely to fix his hair in the mirror.

“Hey, give me your phone,” He tells Steve making grabby hands at him.

Steve gives him a big smile and throws his phone at him, Eddie- doesn't catch it but it falls in his lap so it's all good.

He quickly makes a new contact and names it “Eddie 🦇” and gives himself a lost call, saving the contact as “Steve 💘”.

He fixes himself as best he can, thankfully they didn’t ruin their clothes and stands up waiting for Steve.

Steve turns around and walks up to him, looking nervous before opening the door, “How do I look?” he asks.

And Eddie knows he’s asking in a ‘Can you tell what we were up to just now’ kind of way and not in a ‘Do I look pretty’ kind of way but he still responds, “Gorgeous,” very unhelpfully.

And Steve, precious as he is, blushes deeply as if he wasn’t just deep-throating the life out of Eddie minutes ago.

When they get back to the set, Argyle is already there, and he takes one look at them and shakes his head, 

“Well, at least I don’t have to ask makeup to make you two look like you just fucked,”

Steve pales and starts stammering but Eddie cackles and shakes Argyle’s shoulder, who is trying and failing to keep a straight face and not laugh too.

“It’s ok, Steve” Eddie assures him and Argyle does chuckle then, nods and winks at him for good measure.

This time when they get to their places, Steve is relaxed and pliant and Eddie is, Eddie is just thrilled.

When Argyle says ‘action!’, Steve bumps their foreheads together and rubs his nose against his before diving in and kissing him intensely. Eddie swears he hears Argyle saying ‘Aww’ at some point.

They kiss for a while, smiling through it and nipping at each other's lips, exploring each other's bodies with their hands, and then they hear Argyle yell,

“Cut! Eddie for fuck’s sake!” By the looks of it, it’s not the first time he’s said it, but he’s laughing and shaking his head, so it’s not a big deal.

Steve apologizes and Eddie bites his nose, “Stop apologizing”

Steve shakes his head and looks at him bewildered and Eddie laughs at his expression and kisses his nose making Steve laugh too.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asks as she walks in, the rest of the team just coming back to film the last scene.

Which is basically the same thing they did just now except they have to get interrupted by Gareth opening a curtain.

Argyle goes over the scene once more with everyone before starting and then Steve and Eddie are kissing again but when Gareth opens the curtain, Robin screams so loud, everyone’s surprised expression is one hundred percent real.

“Jesus, Robin!” Steve scolds her, burying his face in Eddie’s chest.

“Sorry! Sorry, Jesus! I knew it was coming but it was still so jarring to see” She says with a hand on her chest, “It was like a jump scare! What are you doing to my boy?!”

Eddie and the boys crack up and Steve blushes and grumbles, “Stop it dingus”

“I… loved that take actually, I think it’s the best we’ll get,” Argyle says, “But let’s do it one more time just in case, and then we’ll call it.”

Everyone cheers and gets in position and Steve and Eddie look at each other, something achingly similar to love in their eyes as they eagerly wait for Argyle to call action so they can kiss again.

That’s a wrap!

part 1: ♫

part 2: ♫  

part 3: ♫  

part 4: is this

☕ cafecito?

[zedleaked]

for the send a character game: you already know fam. ryoma🩵🩵

favourite thing about them

How do I choose... I like the weird bait and switch with his design,, like he looks so goofy and then you talk to the guy and he's the most mature guy out of the cast,, and despite his looks hes probably one of the more tragic characters right out the gate. His voice is a fucking jumpscare too,, is funny,, I like listening to his voice

least favourite thing about them

I wish Ryoma has more interactions with the cast like other than Shuichi.. like I'm going to be honest it felt as if he wasn't missed as much [I mean I think that's a problem with danganronpa in general where it seems like the students forget about other's deaths if no one was friends with them] Maybe that's Ryoma's fault for being so closed off but it would've been nice to see some kind of spark appearing with the other students before he died

favourite line

"You're...someone who lives in the sun. A place that's beyond my reach now... Someone like you remembering me in the back of your mind...that's all I need." 🥺

brOTP

He and Himiko should be epic best friends I think... Like I feel like maybe he sees a little bit of himself in Himiko [with her being depressed and unmovtivated] but the only difference between him and her is that Ryoma sees that Himiko has something to live for and has value in her life. I'd like to think Ryoma would try to subtly push Himiko into trying more and trying to find enjoyment in what she does...

OTP

You already know. Gonta :3

What can I say I'm a sucker for Sunshine x Grump.. [well in this case its more Depressed than Grump] Opposites attract I suppose

nOTP

Eh can't really think of one,, I think he'd be cool with almost anybody

random headcanon

Neck hurts from looking up at people lmao... [especially if they're over 6ft]

unpopular opinion

I think he woulda been a great survivor... just sayin...

song I associate with them

Mommy by R.I.P from the Twins In Paradise OST... The song has no lyrics but the vibes are just... it just sounds so tragic, like someone has just given up and their life is spiraling. plus! Twins In Paradise is about two girls who play tennis so ehehehe...

favourite picture of them

he's so dumfounded

[abbzworld]

Devotion

This was written for a Secret Santa event over on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy your present, @snorpy-fizzlebean! Sorry that it’s late. ^^;

Also, a minor disclaimer; I’ve never seen Twin Peaks and know basically nothing about it. So I was just making some things up at some parts of the story. Lol

Anyways, please enjoy!

-----------------

Grump Peaks was a show that could be very confusing for Chandlo.

It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t enjoy it. The special effects were usually quite good, especially in the later seasons, and in his opinion, the characters with their struggles and relationships with each other were the best and most interesting part of the show.

He just had some trouble following along with some of the story.

For example, he didn’t understand why the bad guy was planning on unleashing a bunch of supernatural horrors onto Grump Peaks. Sure, he’d had a terrible childhood when he lived there with his alcoholic father and this was his twisted idea of getting revenge. But why didn’t he realize that his plan would also put the entire world in danger? He was supposed to be an intelligent grumpus, after all!

When he asked about it, Snorpy explained to him, “Grizby’s problem isn’t that he’s unintelligent. His problem is that he winds up getting hyper-focused on his goals to the neglect of everything else, including any common sense. Or rather, his lack thereof.”

Chandlo could understand what Snorpy was telling him, but he was still confused as to why the bad guy let things get this bad.

“Unfortunately, that happens sometimes. Take Floofty, for example. They’re trying to help grumpus kind so their goals are obviously much different from Grizby’s, but in a way, Floofty also struggles with seeing whether what they’re doing is a good idea or not. That’s why they take so many risks and don’t always foresee the consequences of their actions. I mean, just look at what happened on Snaktooth! They almost decapitated themselves just to see if their head would come back like their leg did!”

Chandlo gently wrapped an arm around his shoulders to silently comfort him as Snorpy sighed. “I am glad that they’re getting better, however. They still have a long way to go, though.”

Chandlo nodded and said, “Yeah, but that’s probably true of all of us.”

Snorpy silently nodded before he glanced at the television and got excited. “Ooh, I love this part! It’s when Aless and Ozwin join together to stop him!”

Chandlo softly chuckled, keeping his arm around Snorpy’s shoulders as they both continued to watch what was going on in the show.

In all honesty, this was the real reason he watches it despite it not entirely being his thing. He enjoys seeing how invested Snorpy always gets despite having already seen this show dozens of times.

Ever since they were kids, he’s loved Grump Peaks. He meticulously analyzes every frame and shot of the show, has very little he actively criticizes, and even though the show got an abrupt ending because of the Grumpinati, as he believes, it’s still his favorite show of all time.

Chandlo might not fully understand it sometimes, but hey, if it makes Snorpy happy then he’s happy.

Besides, Snorpy was always so adorable the more interested he gets in something. His eyes go wide with excitement, he gets a little smile on his face and Chandlo can tell that he’s committing everything to memory.

Even though he already knows what’s going to happen.

Eventually, the credits of the final episode started to roll and Chandlo yawned as Snorpy began to rant, “I still cannot believe that this show got cancelled! I mean, we never really got a conclusive answer about Aless’ and Ozwin’s relationship, and the overall conclusion was incredibly rushed! They needed at least another season to properly conclude the story but the Grumpinati wouldn’t allow that, would they?!”

Chandlo chuckled as he rubbed his boyfriend’s back. “Easy there, Snorpy-dawg. You don’t want to get too worked up, right?”

Snorpy sighed. “No… I’m sorry Chandlo. I don’t mean to get so emotional; it just really bothers me that Grump Peaks wasn’t given the finale that it truly deserved.”

Chandlo smiled at him. “No need to apologize, bro. I know how much this show means to you. It might not be my thing like it is yours but I can understand your frustration.”

Snorpy sighed again and smiled at him. “Thank you Chandlo. Truly.”

“Aw anytime, Snorpy!”

Snorpy then yawned himself before stretching a bit. “Ugh, what time is it?”

Chandlo looked at a nearby clock. “It’s almost 10 pm.”

“My word, I didn’t realize it was getting so late. We should probably head to bed then!”

Chandlo nodded. “Yeah, I agree. We both have to go to the gym in the morning so we can’t afford to be too tired.”

Snorpy agreed and so they stood up, yawning again, before they shuffled over to their shared bed.

Once they were settled in, they cuddled together and said their good nights.

About five hours later, however, Chandlo awoke to Snorpy softly whimpering.

Groggily, Chando quietly asked, “Snorpy? Hey, are you alright?”

Snorpy didn’t answer and now the whimpers were getting louder.

“No… No! Don’t eat them!”

And then it dawned on Chandlo that he was having a nightmare.

Unfortunately, they both got them frequently ever since they escaped from Snaktooth. The knowledge that the bugsnax they were eating were actually parasites that could’ve – and would’ve – killed them was quite traumatic for them.

Chandlo had no idea what would’ve happened if he’d lost Snorpy. And he was sure that Snorpy had those same thoughts about him. And considering he was already anxious even before he went to Snaktooth, said trauma and anxiety often manifested in the form of nightmares.

And unfortunately, despite how much he wished it, Shellsy was unable to concoct an herbal solution to make the nightmares go away because such a thing didn’t exist. She only knew how to allow someone to go to sleep easier, not actually banish dreams altogether.

So both Chandlo and Snorpy, as well as presumably the rest of the Krew, just had to wait and hope that the dreams would eventually fade on their own.

But regardless of that, Chandlo wasn’t going to just lie there and let Snorpy suffer on his own. He would never do that.

And so, he gently wrapped an arm around Snorpy’s waist, pulling him close.

“Shhh… It’s alright, Snorpy. I’m here.” He gently murmured into his ear, kissing his forehead. It took a few minutes of gently caressing his back, but eventually the whimpers stopped and Snorpy began to breathe easily again.

Still, Chandlo didn’t let go as he once again drifted off to sleep.

-----------------

The next morning, they were at the breakfast table, debating on what to eat that wouldn’t remind them too much of the bugsnax. Apples and bananas were off the table, as well as anything like a cinnamon bun. They eventually settled on cereal.

As they ate, Snorpy said, “Thank you, Chandlo.”

“Hm?”

“Well…” He sighed. “I was having a nightmare last night. But I soon felt a warm and comforting presence enter my subconscious. And the nightmare left me afterwards.” He then smiled. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

Chandlo smiled and chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” He then sighed. “I know how intense those nightmares can get, so I didn’t want you suffering through one alone.”

Snorpy nodded. “Well, thank you. It’s been tough, but I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Same here, Snorp-dawg.”

After they’d finished their breakfast, they settled down on the couch as they had half an hour before they had to leave.

They didn’t watch anything, though. They simply cuddled against each other and talked about their plans for the day.

“…and I’m learning how to do pull-up’s better. It’s killer on the arms and abs, but I’m slowly but surely getting there.”

Chandlo smiled as he hugged Snorpy. “I’m proud of you, Snorpy. You’re doing such a good job.”

Snorpy blushed. “Ah, heh heh… Thank you.”

“And I’m really impressed with how fit and healthy you’ve gotten as a result of working out more!” Chandlo continued, finding it adorable how flustered Snorpy was getting. “I’m really proud of you, bro!”

Snorpy giggled, blushing even harder. “Awww, stop. You’re making me blush…”

Chandlo smirked at him. “I know. And I think it’s adorable.”

Snorpy made a bunch of flustered noises as Chandlo chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

Snorpy giggled again before saying, “Ah, yes. I love you too.”

They both smiled at each other before Snorpy cleared his throat and asked him, “So erm… what do you plan on doing at the gym?”

“Well, I plan on shooting some hoops. It’s fun competing against the other grumps there.”

Snorpy chuckled. “That’s nice to hear. I hope that they don’t get too competitive, though.”

“No, they don’t.” Chandlo reassured him. “It’s all in good fun.”

Snorpy nodded. “Good. I’d hate for someone to get mad at you over a basketball competition. I’ve heard how defensive grumpuses can get over sports and related events…”

“I understand what you mean, but that hasn’t happened.” Chandlo smiled at him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “And besides, I was taught to always have good sportsmanship. My mother always made sure to teach me that as a kid.”

Snorpy nodded. “Yes, I remember that.”

“Also, it’s important to know your limits. I was always pushing myself too hard and I still struggle with that now. But rest is just as important as how many push-ups you can do in one sitting. Eggabell taught me that!”

Snorpy smiled. “I’m sure she did. She is a doctor after all!”

Chandlo grinned. “Yeah, bro! I owe a lot of my know-how to her! And to you, of course. You’ve always been there for me and your inventions are really helpful!”

Snorpy giggled again. “Heh, thank you.”

For the new few minutes, they simply sat there, cuddling each other as Snorpy listened to Chandlo’s heartbeat.

Eventually, however, they had to get up to go to the gym.

-----------------

“Let’s see… water bottles?”

“Check.”

“Towels?”

“Check.”

“First aid kit?”

“Check.”

“And we’re both dressed in our workout gear… Awesome dawg! We’re ready to go!”

“Right behind you, love.”

-----------------

The End

-----------------

I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, feel free to tell me! And if you have any constructive criticism for me, you can tell me that, as well. Thank you!

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part one) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: innuendos, mention of pet death (briefly in chat), cursing, child neglect, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Was scrolling through some old reblogs and found this gold mine. It is perfect for Reddie, so... Also, in terms of vibes, I think Richie's content is rivaling Game Grumps vibes, random games with funny commentary. Also, was this supposed to be a oneshot? Yes. Is it? No. This universe is just so 👌👌👌. Anyway. Enjoy :))]]

Richie Tozier was not lucky.

He grew up in the middle of nowhere in a shitty small town that was perpetually stuck in the 80s. And he was gay. So, that, in itself, spoke a lot about his shitty luck.

On top of that, Richie's parents, Maggie and Wentworth Tozier, really didn't give a shit about what he did. Ever. (He remembers telling them about being an official Twitch partner, and he got the equivalent of a 'yeah, yeah, whatever you say' text.) So, he was kinda alone. Since he was like 5 years old.

To be fair, Richie wasn't really the easiest person to be around. His therapist would probably say: "Because you never received much attention at home, you became a physical representation of 'LOOK AT ME'." And he was usually right, so there was some merit to that.

The thing was, Richie always knew he was destined for the public eye (maybe because he felt so insignificant), he wanted to make a difference. Do something so that people would see him, for once-

Streaming wasn't initially anything special, not really. Richie was just bored, which was honestly how most things he did started, and decided to make an account. Cruising over the app for awhile, he doesn't know exactly what made him do it, but he just decided to go in balls deep.

He bought a webcam, a mic, a better gaming chair, and a way fucking better PC. One good thing about his parents, they were rich. (Not the megamansion kind but definitely the healthy retirement kind). And he doesn't know if they felt guilt about how they raised him, but they were pretty lenient with 'allowances'. If you could even call them that.

And then, one day, he just pressed that fancy button.

And the rest is history.

Richie's life was kind of built around streaming at this point. He didn't really have an internal clock, so he'd wake up to stream in the mornings if he was responsible, and if he wasn't he'd do them when he was bored at 3 am. (His subs had taken to calling those streams "Richy hours" like the witch thing. Richie just rolled with it.) In the beginning, his chat and subscribers felt a little like his friends.

With college far out of his mind, he focused solely on content creation. Which, at this point was mainly streaming (not that he hasn't tried other things, there is an old YouTube channel his chat will never let down). That being said, he focused on that a lot -maybe too much, by some of his friend's standards.

That's where he was now, tapping out a rhythm on his desk as he readied up everything for the stream. This one was an actual scheduled one, which was a win for Richie's responsibility. Skimming over his monitors, he made sure to put some cursed picture on the greenscreen behind him (and made sure his shirt didn't have green on it). Making sure all his little special things were in order, like the subscriber notifications and little visuals. (They were all his own renditions, handmade. Meaning they were disfigured stick figures that chat now adored.)

And with that, Richie hit the button.

He waited a moment for people to flood in, always did -humming along with some song he had stuck in his head for the 400th time.

"Hey, all you motherfuckers," he chimed (yes, that is what he called his fans), "-how are we doing today?"

Richie skimmed over the chat through his glasses, trying to catch a few of them.

"My cat died," he read, shifting a hand through his hair (it was probably too long now, but he didn’t care), "-Fuck, dude, you're ruining the vibes. But, seriously, rest in peace."

He saluted, like Richie would do.

Skimming through chat again, he caught on another.

"Where did you get your name? Funny story actually," he began, "-it's what bullies used to call me in middle school."

The name being 'trashmouth.tozier', that is.

"No, chat, I'm not trauma dumping-"

His eyes caught on a checkmark, stan.the.man, Richie grinned big. 'What the hell are you doing up this early?'

"Staniel! Good to see you today," he clapped his hands, fidgeting with something else (he physically could not stop moving), "-And I am streaming, fucking duh."

He saw the chat waft through with a few 'STANLEY!!!'s, and maybe grinned a little brighter. Stanley was one of the Losers Club members, or this group of streamers who played together. It was Stanley, Bev, Ben, Mike, Bill, and well... Richie.

Stanley did a lot of calm games, the kinds like Stardew Valley where there's only a little combat. And even then, he just mostly did those like cheap puzzle games where you digitally built a puzzle. How he had an audience, Richie doesn't know. Sometimes he wonders how Stan even befriended him, so he was a little clueless in general.

Bev did a lot of things on stream honestly. Her biggest stuff was sewing, making outfits, and trying them on. Her chat would tell her what to fix or give her ideas on what to do next; it was pretty fun and unique. Richie popped in a few times and gave his two cents; Beverly usually just flipped him off wordlessly, but still. She did game though, obviously.

Ben came actually as one of her subscribers (unsurprisingly, Richie would find out). Bev dug into him once, watched a stream, and recruited him. He was actually the newest of the crew (it went Stanley, Richie, Bill, Mike, Bev, and Ben), and did a sort of mix of streams. He did book reviews and would take chat's suggestions on what to read next, for one. Sometimes, they'd all submit poems for him to read (Richie would send one in and Ben wouldn't even read it out loud, he was too soft for that). If not anything book-related (snore), Ben did mystery games. Like half those ones where you find things on certain screens, and half like story-driven ones. Otherwise, his channel was pretty quiet, closer to Stanley's in vibes.

Mike was the epitome of calm. EPITOME. Mostly, he did story games, the kind where characters die (Richie had seen him cry on camera at least twice), and your choices impact everything else. He did dabble in horror games though, a little because it was funny to watch scary stuff happen and Mike be completely centered with himself. And if his chat felt like it, they'd play like a cozy game. It was just the right vibes for Mike as a person.

Bill was a fun one, he fully played horror games (mostly). And yeah, he got scared, just like any normal person would, but then he'd beat the shit out of the game. Richie has watched him clear full games in 2 hours, whole games. God made him fucking determined, and Bill took that to the max. Richie was good at certain games in particular, but Bill? He could easily figure out a game in minutes and do pretty fucking good in it in, tops, an hour. He was the kind of streamer who sometimes did speedruns. It was pretty impressive, Richie will admit.

Now, Richie?

Trashmouth Tozier was total utter chaos, his chat usually reeled him in, which was kind of the opposite of what Twitch was. But it's how it worked.

Any game was, well, fair game. An obscure NES title that is shitty because of how hard it is? Done. Barbie Horse Adventures? Let's do it. A dating game about pigeons? Yeah, been there, done that. (He dated every single pigeon, every single one, and unlocked all the story available.) Story game where you can control your path? He was going villain every time, but yeah. If he wasn't doing chat's recommendations, he was showing off in some arcade-style game or maybe an RPG. Not to brag, but he was pretty fucking good at them; the Losers Club hated that, mostly because it blew up his ego.

"What are we doing today?" Richie read out, and then grinned big and wide, "-Well, well, chat. We're tackling something you guys have begged for, almost as much as your mom was last ni-"

Beep! Beep! A clown horn echoed through the air.

The little visual of a clown (with an obnoxiously big red nose) popped up, along with a name and message.

mike.me.up donated $1: took one for the team guys

Right, Richie had a physical button people could use to shut him up. Every time someone donated, they could choose to 'beep' him. His friends had picked up on saying it to him verbally: "Beep, beep, Richie."

"C'mon, Mikey," he groaned, eyes dipping over the chat (which was still flooded with horn emojis and 'beep, beep' in all caps), "-that one wasn't even that bad-"

stan.the.man: thanks mike

"Guys," he whined, throwing his head back,"-stop ganging up on me. Chat, defend me."

The chat blew up (mostly those like huffing out air emojis and soldier salutes), and Richie thought he saw a request for a Barbie game (again), and he ignored it.

big.bill: are you going to tell us the game or not, rich?

"Billy, you always have to ruin the fun, don't you?" Richie pursed his lips with no bite. He never really had any bite, "-But okay, fine. Let's fucking do this-"

With a grin, he unmuted the audio that was playing from the game's main screen, which chat couldn't see yet.

"Dream Daddy~"

reddy.bevvy: FINALLYYY, our prayers have been answered

"Bevvy, baby!" Richie called out, smiling again, before asking, "-What the fuck are you all doing? Shouldn't you be streaming? Or am I the only one who has my shit together today? For once?"

Before anyone could answer, another notification flew across his screen.

benny.boy raided you with 2,645 viewers

"Benny," he called out with a grin, before pausing, "-Wait, when the fuck did your stream start? It's like nine in the morning-"

Richie paused a moment, waiting for the chat to answer his question, Which it did.

"6?!" he spoke in disbelief, eyes wide through the lens of his glasses, "-What the fuck, Ben? What are you doing-"

They went back and forth a few times, Richie rambling about a few different things. Today, it was a little about how he went to get a coffee and the barista put expired milk into it. He really couldn't make this shit up. After that though, he decided to focus in on the game.

Shifting the screen to gameplay with his little camera in the corner, Richie skimmed through the chat again.

"Isn't this game gay?" he read out aloud, "-Yes, it is, and so am I, while we're talking about it."

The chat flooded with rainbow flags and hearts, something in Richie's heart twinkled. He really had a good community, somehow. He had no fucking clue how, actually-

"Wait," Richie gasped, looking at the game, "-I can make my fucking character?! My gay dad? Chat-"

stan.the.man: we're going to be here forever guys, thanks

"Stan," he held his hands over his heart, dramatically, "-you wound me. I thought we were friends. It's always the closest ones who hurt you the worst-"

stan.the.man donated $1: shut the fuck up richard

"Awe," Richie switched his tone, "-Stanley, thanks for the donation. Time for more important matters though-"

He leveled a serious gaze into the camera.

"What do we think, chat? Twink or bear?"

His mods were pretty quick to set up a poll, and actually, it was a twink sweep. And to be fair, Richie did love him a twink. So, he wasn't super surprised. By the time he got to the clothes, chat was slower, calmer, and maybe that's why he saw the message. Or maybe it was fate, Richie could believe it.

eddie.kaspbrak: just don't give him a shitty shirt like yours

eddie.kaspbrak: i can't handle both of them on my screen at the same time

Richie stopped what he was doing, pulling on his shirt at the shoulders (it was white with flamingos wearing fedoras), "What, Eddie Spaghetti? You don't like it?"

He had a tendency to talk to chat like he knew them personally (which he decidedly did not know this person). It was part of the appeal of his streams. Or he thinks so anyway.

eddie.kaspbrak: what the fuck did you just call me?

"Eddie Spaghetti," he repeated, plainly, but with a little bit of a shit-eating grin.

eddie.kaspbrak: that's the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard and I watch your streams so that's saying something

Richie laughed out loud and pinned the comment himself (it stayed there until the stream ended), "Eds gets off on a good one! Chat, let's applaud-"

Chat was filled with clapping emojis, and that was that.

The next time Richie heard from Eddie was about a day later (he had a break day between streams), where he was picking up Dream Daddy again. In the end, he didn't seem to get past meeting every Dad, so he had quite the way to go.

A little after he started the stream, maybe even minutes, he caught Eddie in chat.

eddie.kaspbrak: dream daddy again?

"Eddie!" he exclaimed with a grin, "-Yes, we are romancing the Dads, yet again."

eddie.kaspbrak: you didn't even get to that last time

eddie.kaspbrak: you were spending too much time picking out shitty facial hair

Richie laughed a little, watching as more chats filled the space and he maybe felt a little disappointed that Eddie was washed away in it. Which was fucking weird, but that was just between Richie and himself, so who cares.

"Hey, motherfuckers," he chimed, raising his hands -routinely, "-how are we doing today?"

They got into the game pretty early this time, and Richie took it upon himself to voice every character differently -flawlessly he will add.

"Wait," he spoke, suddenly, "-we can fuck Robert?"

Richie stared at the screen a second, before flashing over to chat, "Guys, should we fuck Robert?"

Clown horn.

geez.zee donated $5: fuck robert

"Thank you, Zee," he chimed, instinctively, before taking on a more heroic (dramatic really) voice, "-For you, I shall fuck Robert!"

They were finally at the portion where you could pick dates, and Richie was exaggeratively rubbing his chin. Eyes darting over the list, they hovered over a few of them.

"This is the café guy, right?" Richie questioned, reading out the name -mouse ontop of him, "-Mat? The one we chose the pun for?"

The chat told him yes.

"Okay," he acknowledged, biting at his lip, "-Chat, I think I want to be a monsterfucker."

reddy.bevvy: you could also be a homewrecker

"Bev," he clicked his tongue, eyes moving over to Joseph (the married Dad), "-you do have a point."

benny.boy: neither of them is your type though, rich

"Ben, Benny, my beloved," Richie responded, "-It's about the fantasy of it. It's fucking boring if I do that."

Before he could say much else, a horn interrupted it.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $1: what is your type?

Richie grinned, big and bright, batting his eyelashes, "Eds, my oh my, are you flirting with lil' ole me?"

He got a few more clown honks for that, and yeah, he expected it. Respected it, even.

"If you're not a dude though," he added, "-sorry, it won't work out. I'm into strictly dicks. If I wasn't, I'd be married to Bev."

reddy.bevvy: 😘😘😘

eddie.kaspbrak: fuck you trashmouth

There was a pause.

eddie.kaspbrak: and I am a dude for the record, obviously

eddie.kaspbrak: why would I watch your shitty fucking gameplay if I wasn't

"I'm getting mixed signals here, Spaghetti," Richie commented, mimicking picking petals off a flower, "-He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not-"

Honk, honk.

eddie.kaspbrak donated $1: i asked you a question dipshit

"I dunno, Eds," he laughed, "-if you keep paying me, I might just put it off forever. Plus," he motioned to his monitor, "-Chat already knows."

itty.bitty-mettle: Robert

cryingandscreaming: Robert fs

toziers-trash: he's fucked up so probably Robert

jiggy.saws: Robert hands down

letdown-urhair: he always goes for brunettes and he's a freak so Robert

too.tough.to.cry: screaming why is everyone saying the same thing

the_girls.girl: Robert but like a twink

your._.mom: you'd think it was Joseph but it's Robert

bouncing-baby-boy: Robert bc he's a dick

Richie motioned to chat again, dramatically making prayer hands with a melodic tone, "The chat has spoken."

He took a second like that, before switching back to normal -answering genuinely, "But yeah, Spaghetti, teeny little brunettes who are mean to me."

stan.the.man: he is being 100% honest by the way believe me

Eddie decidedly didn't say anything else. Not that Richie was waiting or anything. Because he wasn't.

"Well," he cleared his throat, strictly not disappointed, "-mods, let's run a poll. Monsterfucker or homewrecker, chat?"

[treefory]

The Chandlo dinner fic is done!!!

It’s over 3.7k words and a one shot.

It’s about Chandlo trying to make a romantic dinner for him and Snorpy. (Plus some art at the end)

———

Chandlo laid in his bed wide awake, He had tried to go to sleep for a while now. Maybe he just had too much energy. There was only one thing Chandlo knew that he could do to get rid of this excess energy, a late night jog!

Chandlo sat up in his bed and looked over at Snorpy on his own. Chandlo wished they shared a bed, but the last time they tried that snorpy was too flustered to sleep in it with him. But that was fine, he does like his own space.

Chandlo quietly got out of bed and started stretching, careful to not wake snorpy. Snorpy didn’t like it when he went out late at night, something about grumpminati or something… but Chandlo always stayed aware of we’re he was and the people around him. He kissed his bicep. Who would even go after a guy built like him?

He slowly snuck down stairs and opened the doors to the mill. The cool late night air gilded gently through his lime green fur. Now was the perfect time for a jog. After one final stretch, he was off

He followed his usual path around snaxburg, taking note of everything he jogged past.

1 barn

1 outhouse

1 camp fire

1 Floofty

1 Floofty? Floofty sat next to the campfire staring into its flame as they sat on one of the log chairs. Chandlo didn’t know they were back in town. Honestly, it was nice seeing them in town Once in a while. He knew it was hard for them to move around in the sand. Grump, once he even had to carry them back to their ship wreck, though he swore he’d keep that between them. Chandlo let out a chuckle at the thought of it.

“Good Night, Floofty!” Chandlo called out with a wave

“salutations.” They said barely looking up at him, seemingly lost in thought

Chandlo wasn’t going to bother them anymore, not unless he wanted a threat that he could barely understand. He continued his jog around town.

It wasn't long until he felt his energy fade away. He let out a small yawn as he stretched his back. He slowly made his way back to the mill when he noticed that the lights in wambus and Triffanys house were on. The lights were never on this late. They were the type to get up early and go to sleep early. What was it, 9pm? They should have been asleep by now!

Chandlo stopped in front of their window. He knew he should mind his business but he just had to know what was keeping them up this late! Chandlo jogged over to the campfire and picked up one of the log chairs and hoisted it onto his shoulder, startling Floofty in the process.

“Where are you going with that?” Floofty asked

“Wambus and Triffany are up late tonight, I wanna see what’s going on.”

“Does it not occur to you that they might be doing something, private?”

Oh yeah, he didn’t even think of that. “Meh, nothin I haven’t seen before.” He said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Unbelievable…” Floofty grumbled

Chandlo placed the log outside the window and climbed on top. He steady himself then peered into the window.

Wambus and Triffany were sitting at a table together. A red and white table cloth was neatly draped over the table. Different kinds of bugsnax were laid out, some half eaten. Though he couldn’t really hear them through the window he could tell that they were having a good time. Laughing, smiling, and talking.

“What’s going on in there?” Floofty called out

Chandlo barely looked away from the window “ see for yourself.” He said as he stepped to the side

Floofty grudgingly stepped on to the log and looked into the window. “ Hmf, nothing of interest. Honestly Chandlo, you should stop-“

“Do you think me and snorpy could do something like this?” Chandlo interrupted

“What?”

“Like ya know, a romantic dinner together.” Chandlo could hardly remember the last time they did something like this.

“I suppose… but you will need bugsnax first.”

“I know, I can handle that tho.”

“… like I was saying before, you should stop watching grumpuses eat through their windows-“

“Wha- WHOS THERE???” A Deep Southern voice yelled from inside the house. It was wambus, and he was staring right at them.

Both of their faces turned into pure panic as they both ran to their respective houses. Wambus had a tendency to throw other grumpuses he didn’t like and neither of them wanted to be it.

Chandlo quickly yet quietly closed the door to the mill. He stood there and caught his breath he then tiptoed up the stairs and laid in his bed. Grump, when was the last time he tried to have a romantic dinner with snorpy?

It was about a year and a half ago, him and snorpy had went to Grumpus roadhouse together. They had such a nice night together, but they kinda stopped going out like that after snorpy started getting paranoid about stuff.

What if Chandlo tried to recreate that night, but with bugsnax? A challenge for him and a romantic dinner with his boyfriend? How could he say no to that!

— — —

While on his morning jog, he came up with a plan.

First go to the scorched gorge and catch a bbq burger

Second, travel to sugarpine woods for a big bopsicle.

Third, get snorpy out the mill so he can set up the dinner

Forth, have dinner with snorpy

What a perfect plan, nothing could ever go wrong! Chandlo grinned to himself, I’m so smart.

“Hey, Chandlo! You got a minute?” Wambus called out from his farm.

Chandlo jogged over “what’s up wambus?” He said wiping sweat from his forehead

“Were you up last night?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you happen to see someone snooping around? Ya know, peeking through windows n’such?”

Chandlo froze. He couldn’t tell him the truth but he was also a horrible liar “look at the sun! It’s rising!”

“Huh???” Wambus looked at the sun, he then quickly turned away rubbing eyes. Chandlo used this time to run for the hills, or in this case the scorched gorge.

— — —

Chandlo searched everywhere, In every crevice and every hole. By now he was drenched in sweat, he took off his hat and fanned himself.

“Grump, how did Triff and Cromdo stay out here for so long?” He said as he sat on a rock. Chandlo had been chased around by Spuddys, shot at by a Scorpenyo, and tripped by a shy weenyworm. How did he get tripped by a shy weenyworm??? How was he ment to catch something he couldn’t even find?

“I mean, I could settle for a ribblepede. Gotta know your limits, right?” He sighed. But suddenly a gust of wind hit him, he looked up and saw a cheepoof flying overhead. That’s when he noticed the rocky plateau above him.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. How did I not notice that before? Grump, this heat must be getting to me…” he said as he put his cap back on and began looking for a way up

He walked around the pillar looking around for a way. He had found a natural path up but it was being guarded by spuddy. Chandlo had also noticed the wooden bridge that he and snorpy made when they first got to snacktooth, but this was ment to be a challenge, so no easy way allowed!

“Hey Spuddy! You think you can beat me?” Chandlo yelled. The spuddy looked his way and began to charge and so did Chandlo. Only at the last second did Chandlo decide to break the poor thing’s ankles. He quickly moved left then right again. The spuddy couldn’t keep up and ended up falling to its side. He took this time to run up the stairs before it could realize what happened.

“L bozo” Chandlo laughed as he made his way to the top of the plateau. He had to be in the right place. He looked everywhere else. He looked in bushes and behind rocks and still couldn’t find it. Well that’s how it was until it found him.

“Bunger? Bunger bunger bunger!” The bbq bunger said as it charged at him. Chandlo managed to dodge its attack as it charged past him. “Whoa! That was WAY to close!”

The bunger turned around to face Chandlo. It playfully jumped around as it readied for another charge. “you wanna go bro? Cuz I'm about to hit you with the CHANDLO SLAM!” Chandlo said as he got into a crouch position, arms outstretched ready to catch it.

It charged again but this time but Chandlo caught it. He landed on his back and held the bunger tight. They began to wrestle on the ground, the bunger trying to get free and Chandlo holding it down. Some how he managed to pin it to the ground and in its moment of confusion Chandlo got up, tapped his elbow twice then hit it with the Chandlo slam

The bbq bunger lay there unconscious. He picked it up and tucked it under his shoulder. He smiled to himself as he realized where he was going next. Somewhere more cool, crisp, and that had a hot tub. Sugarpine woods.

— — —

The chilly air filled his lungs. It was nice being somewhere cooler. The bbq bunger squirmed under his arm “stawp it >:(“ Chandlo whispered.

He had reached the old cabin he and Snorpy lived in. He opened the front door and put the bunger inside. “ Listen dawg, I need you to say here.” He said in a stern voice.

“Bunger?”

Chandlo’s face turned a little red, of course it didn’t understand him. “ uhh… just don’t go anywhere.” He closed the door and looked around, he knew there was a bopsicle around here.

He began walking around, constantly looking over his shoulder. Big bopcicals we’re bigger and meaner than bbq bungers. He had to learn that the hard way.

Back when he and Snorpy moved out here he was playing basketball, when a big bopsicle ran into his side. He spent the rest of that day laying down with an ice pack and Snoopy rambling about the grumpinati being after them.

It wasn’t long until he found one digging through the snow. This was the one that was next to the big rock poking out from the ground, the easiest one to catch. Chandlo knew this was meant to be a challenge, but he didn’t want to drag himself back home just to worry Snorpy again.

Big bopsicles were covered in ice, giving them this shiny look. He knew that he had to unfreeze it, to catch it. He swiftly snuck past it and climbed up on the big rock. Just below it was a hot spring.

“Hey, over here! Come and get me!” Chandlo said as he waved at the big bopsicle. It looked his way and charged at him, climbing the rock. Right before it could hit him, Chandlo fell backwards into the hot spring. The bopsicle not having enough time to stop itself, it fell in after him.

Chandlo poked his head out of the water and watched the bopsicle pull itself out, Its icy sheen now gone. He knew it was only a matter of time until it broke into two. He didn’t want to catch two small bopsicles, that was too easy, so he had to act fast.

He dragged himself out the water and ran towards the cabin. He swung open the door to see the bbq bunger playing in the bed sheets. He grabbed the bunger alongside the sheets and ran back outside. He tossed the sheets in front of the big bopsicle. The bunger crawled out and flipped the bopsicle over its head, landing at chandlo’s feet.

“Bopsicllllle…”

Chandlo grabbed the sheets and wrapped them around the bopsicle and snatched the bunger before it could get away. He tossed the sheet over his shoulder and tucked the bunger back under his arm.

“BOOM, half the plan done! Now all I have to do is set up the dinner.” Chandlo said happily as he made his way down to Snaxburg

— — —

Back at Snaxburg, Chandlo made his way to Shelda’s hut. She sat in the lotus position with her eyes closed, reciting the words of mother naturae to herself.

“Hey Shelda! How have you been?”

Shelda opened her eyes “ah yes, Chandlo. For what brings you here to my humble abode, more words of wisdom perhaps?”

“Nah, I was just wondering if you had any candles I could borrow?”

“Hmm, the mothers light that guides those lost in the dark, Yes! One’s candles are kept by one’s herbs.”

“Cool, thanks shelda!” Chandlo smiled. He walked over to the candles and set down his bag. He took the bunger from under his arm and put it inside.

“One must ask, why does one travel with a bed sheet?”

“It has a big bopsicle inside for Snorpy, planning on having a little dinner date with him tonight.” Chandlo said as picked up a half used candle, it was just like the one they had on their last date.

“Awww, that’s nice! One can not remember the last time they’ve been on a date. Yet, One sends prayers to the mother that things go well.”

“Aww, thanks Shenda!” Chandlo blushed, “I'll tell you how it goes tomorrow!” He said as he walked away

Chandlo hid the bag and candle in a bush near the mill. He opened the door and went up the stairs. “ Hey Snorp-dawg! How’s your day been?”

Snorpy turned away from his conspiracy board. Red yarn in one hand and a pin cushion in the other. “Ah Chandlo, There you are! We’re have you been?”

“Just out working on my bod, whatcha think?” He said as he flexed his arm

Snorpy’s face turned red as he turned away to face his board again “why-uhh…yes, very good Chandlo.”

“Sooo what’s this?” Chandlo said as he stood next to him

“Oh! As you can tell, I’ve taken down all the strings. I want to rethink everything from the ground up, just to see if I’ve missed anything.”

“How long have you been working on this?” Chandlo said in a concerned tone.

“Since this morning. Why?”

“Ha ha, Just curious.” This is literally the worst thing that could have happened. Whenever snorpy gets like this it’s like nothing can stop him. The last time this happened Chandlo had to force snorpy to go to bed after 32 hours of theorizing. It’s going to be impossible to get him out the mill.

Chandlo quietly made his way down stairs and sat down in the front door. He brought his knees up to his chest and curled his arms around his legs. He rested his head on his knees and let out a sigh. He worked all day to catch theses bugsnax so he could have a night with Snorpy, just for him to go into one of his conspiracy spirals. It sucked that it happened, but he couldn’t hate him for it. He loved him too much.

Chandlo contemplated canceling tonight’s plans, but then he remembered the one grumpus that could help him

“Hey Floofty! I need your help!” Chandlo said as he walked up to Floofty on their side of the tent

“No, I’m busy.” They grumbled, not even looking away from the beaker they were stirring

“But it’s about Snorpy!”

“What about him?”

“I’m trying to do the dinner date thing I said I’d do last night, but I can't get Snorpy out the mill.”

“And what do you suppose I do?” They said as they gazed into the beaker

“I was thinking you could maybe distract him with some science stuff?”

“Ha! You think I would willingly spend my valuable time with my brother?”

Chandlo didn’t want to do this, but he would have to in order to save the night. “What if we made a deal?”

“I’m confident I’m not going to be interested in anything you have.”

“I caught a big bopsicle today. I could split it with you if you help.”

Floofty put the beaker on the table and crossed their arms behind their back as they turned to face him “I suppose I could make some time for snorpington today…”

Chandlo’s eyes lit up “ preciate it dawg! follow me!”

Chandlo pulled the bag from the bush and pulled out the bopsicle. He held it by its wooden tusks and snapped it in two, then handed one to Floofty.

After a few good licks they spoke “ though it might taste a bit like bunger, a deal is a deal. Move.” Floofty said as they pushed past Chandlo.

From outside Chandlo could hear their conversation.

“Snorpington! I have something extraordinarily important to ask you!”

“Floofty? When did you get here?”

“There is no time for small talk! The question is…“

“Wha-what are you saying? I can’t hear you. Are you just moving your mouth?”

“Snorpington! Listen! I can’t say it out here for the other residents of this island to hear. Come, we must speak on this in my home.”

“Oh no, this must be extremely important if you're willing to tell me. And where did you get that bopsicle? I want one…”

They both hastily left the mill, leaving it completely empty for Chandlo to get everything ready.

— — —

“Honestly Floofty, I don’t think your opinions on the climate of this island are important enough to have taken me from my work.”

“You really don’t find the fact that an ISLAND that is only a couple hundred miles long that has a TUNDRA AND A DESERT is odd???”

“I can chalk everything up to being apart of the grumpinati.”

“The existence of the grumpinati is false, and you know it.”

Chandlo was outside the house and felt the tension growing. He gently knocked on the door signaling to Floofty that everything was set up.

“Perfect, your presence is no longer welcomed here. get out.” Floofty said coldly

“Happily! I hate being in the presence of someone who won’t share where they get their bopsicles.” Snorpy growled as he opened the door

“Hey Snorp-dawg, I got something to show you!” Chadlo said as he took his hand and lead him over to the mill

“Chandlo, what is going on today? You’ve been acting so weird!” Snorpy said worryingly

They both stopped at the front door of the mill which was closed. Chandlo stood in front of Snorpy and took both of his paws. “Snorpy, I need you to cover your eyes.”

“Cover my eyes? For what?”

“For a surprise dawg!”

“Chandlo, you know how I feel about surprises…”

“C’mon, I worked really hard on this! Don’t you trust me?”

Snorpy sighed as he gently took one paw from Chandlo’s and covered his eyes with it. “Oh, I suppose I do.”

Chandlo could hardly contain his excitement as he opened the front door. He led snorpy to the door that led to the backyard, where they stopped. “You can open your eyes now.”

Snorpy shyly pulled his hand from his eyes, revealing the scene in front of him. The setting Sun's light shined beautifully onto the white table cloth. Upon the table sat wooden plates and a lit candle in the middle. A bbq bunger sat on the plate to the left and a small bopsicle on the right.

“Ch-Chandlo, what is all this?”

“Last night I was just thinking about the last time we went on a dinner date, so I wanted to try doing one again!”

“ You did all this for me?” Snorpy blushed

“Nah, I did it for us!” Chandlo said as he walked over to the seat on the right and pulled it out “C’mon, let’s sit down.”

Snorpy took his seat as Chandlo sat across from him. “Chandlo, this is amazing! when did you have time for all of this?”

Chandlo took the bunger in his paws “dude, I did all of this today.” He took a bite.

“You went to the scorched gorge and sugarpine woods all in one day, And you caught a bopsicle? I thought you hated them!” Snorpy said as he licked his bopsicle

“But I know you love them! And good thing Floofty likes ‘em too, without them I would have never been able to get you outside.”

“So that’s why they came to talk to me, You bribe them with the other half of this bopsicle!” Snorpy rested his paw on the table. “I knew they would have never came to speak to me without a proper reason, It’s simply not like them.”

“I don’t see why, it’s amazing talking to you ~” Chandlo said smoothly as he rested his paw on snorpy’s.

Snorpy’s face became red hot. He quickly looked away from Chandlo’s eyes. “Ah! Why thank you!”

They sat together talking long after the sunset. Chandlo blew out the candle as Snorpy went upstairs. They both sat on their respective beds and let out a sigh.

“That was a wonderful dinner Chandlo, thank you.” Snorpy yawned

“Anytime, dude!” Chandlo tossed his hat onto his gym bag and laid back in his bed, he hadn’t realized how tired he was. He thought back to last night, there was still one more thing he wanted to do.

“Chandlo, I have something to ask you… would you uh… like to share my bed with me?” Snorpy said sheepishly

Chandlo quickly sat up. “ dude! I was just about to ask you the same thing!” He blushed

“Oh, well then, let me make some room-“

Chandlo jumped in his bed and wrapped his arms around Snorpy’s body, basically tackling him.

“Ah! Careful Chandlo, You could have broken my glasses!” Snorpy cried as Chandlo laid on top of him.

“Sorry snorp-dawg.” Chandlo chuckled. He held his face and looked him in the eyes, Snorpy let out a nervous chuckle as he pulled him in a little closer. They kissed tenderly, but only for a second.

“I love you so much Snorpy <3” Chandlo whispered softly

“I… love you too.” Snorpy said like he didn’t want him to hear

They both laid in bed together. Chandlo held Snorpy close to him, his arms wrapped around his chest with Snorpy’s back facing him. His gentle snoring was so comforting compared to the rambling he would be doing now if he hadn’t made dinner. This day was amazing, Snorpy is amazing, everything is amazing

Chandlo couldn’t have wished for anything better.

Plus some art of my favorite scene 

[bloody-bee-tea]

Gift for me

1) I am not back into Mingcheng, I'm very sorry to disappoint on that. This fic has been ready to go for a year now, and I am kind of happy to finally get it off my desktop XD

2) Happy New Year, may it be filled with love and softness and laughter and happiness for us all

Part 1 (Happy Birthday) Part 2 (Selfish Gift)

It’s the third birthday Nie Mingjue spends with Jiang Cheng right by his side and by now he stopped expecting anything. Jiang Cheng blew him out of the water when he actually cared more about his birthday than about any New Year’s celebration and then a year later he did it again when he asked Nie Mingjue to move in together.

This year—well this year, it’s Nie Mingjue who has a surprise for Jiang Cheng.

He had wanted to give it to him in bed, when they were both still sleep-warm and relaxed but of course Jiang Cheng doesn’t stick to any kind of plan at all and isn’t in bed when Nie Mingjue wakes up.

“A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue groans out, his hands grasping at already cold sheets and his mood already turning for the worse.

“I’m right here, my heart,” Jiang Cheng says with a smile as he sticks his head into the bedroom but he’s not where he’s supposed to be, which is warm and lazy in Nie Mingjue’s arms.

“What are you doing?” Nie Mingjue demands to know, mustering his best glare even though he knows it’s not much, this soon after waking up.

“We’re getting guests in about half an hour,” Jiang Cheng informs him and Nie Mingjue lets his head drop back with a groan.

“What? No. Why? What happened to spending my birthday in bed together?” he demands to know because this wasn’t the plan.

“But we woke up together all year,” Jiang Cheng gives back and at that Nie Mingjue throws him an outraged look.

“You think waking up together every other day gets you out of waking up together on my birthday?” Nie Mingjue is honestly lost for words how Jiang Cheng could arrive at such a horrendously wrong conclusion but he softens a bit when Jiang Cheng laughs at him.

It is still one of Nie Mingjue’s most cherished sounds.

“Not really,” he admits as he comes closer to sit on Nie Mingjue’s side of the bed. “But you know that Huaisang and Xuanyu are leaving for their holiday early tomorrow morning so we decided to have your birthday celebration a little bit earlier.”

“I preferred it when we celebrated my birthday a week late,” Nie Mingjue grumbles even as he pulls Jiang Cheng in for a kiss.

“Liar,” Jiang Cheng whispers back and kisses Nie Mingjue again. “Happy birthday, my soul.”

“Good morning, my heart,” he gives back, still a bit unhappy with how this day is going but he guesses he has to make the best of it now. “Will we have dinner alone, then?” he asks because so far Jiang Cheng at least made sure to always spend one meal a day with Nie Mingjue alone.

“Yes. I will kick everyone out after cake, don’t worry. We’ll do dinner and a movie on the couch, with all the cuddles you could want.”

It feels a little bit like a consolation prize with how cold the bed was when Nie Mingjue woke up but he will take whatever he can get.

“Fine,” he finally heaves out because what else can he really say and Jiang Cheng laughs at him.

“Don’t even pretend to be a grump, I know you too well,” he teases him and flicks his forehead for good measure too.

“You’ll still have to make it up to me,” Nie Mingjue decides as he gets out of bed and Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow at him in question.

“And how would I do that?” he wants to know and Nie Mingjue gives him a devilish grin as he leans down to give him a much more heated kiss.

“You’ll simply have to wake up in my arms for at least a month straight,” he then tells him and leaves Jiang Cheng right there on the bedside as he walks off to the bathroom to get himself ready for their guests.

And to wrap up his gift in a different way, now that his original plan has been ruined.

Nie Mingjue laughs out loud when he hears Jiang Cheng splutter behind him and he has to admit that this birthday is still good, simply because Jiang Cheng is right there with him.

~*~*~

The day itself is busy. Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu come over for brunch but leave early in the afternoon because they still have some packing to do. Nie Mingjue’s friends arrive shortly before Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu leave but true to his word, Jiang Cheng throws them all out an hour after cake.

Nie Mingjue watches it with a smile but he lets him do it because it is what was promised and Nie Mingjue is now actually looking forward to a relaxing evening with Jiang Cheng.

He loves his family and friends but these celebrations are always a bit too much for him, especially if they are this stretched out.

“Tired?” Jiang Cheng predictably asks when he comes back from kicking the last lingering friend out and finds Nie Mingjue on the couch, his head tilted back and his eyes closed.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue easily says because admitting to these things is always easy with Jiang Cheng.

“Too much?” Jiang Cheng asks next and stands behind the couch, so he can scratch lightly at Nie Mingjue’s scalp.

“Mh, no, just right,” Nie Mingjue admits. “An hour longer though—” he trails off, trusting Jiang Cheng to understand what he means and when Jiang Cheng laughs, he knows he did.

“And you would have started to murder people, I get it,” he chuckles out and then leans over to press a kiss to Nie Mingjue’s forehead. “But no murder on your birthday. Only relaxing stuff for us now.”

“Are you going to cook?” Nie Mingjue asks, and he reaches up to grab Jiang Cheng by the forearms.

Suddenly the idea that Jiang Cheng will cook in the kitchen and Nie Mingjue is left with nothing to do but watch him seems like the worst idea ever.

“Nope,” Jiang Cheng cheerfully tells him and simply flips over the back of the couch when it becomes apparent that Nie Mingjue is not going to let him go. “I thought we order in today.”

“Good thinking,” Nie Mingjue hums out, leaning over to steal a kiss and then wrangles Jiang Cheng around until he’s arranged to his liking, mainly in Nie Mingjue’s arms and with no way to run off again.

“Clingy much?” Jiang Cheng teases him but Nie Mingjue only hums because Jiang Cheng is fooling no one. He went boneless the moment Nie Mingjue pulled him into his arms and so Nie Mingjue simply presses a kiss to his head.

They doze off like that on the couch for a while, and Nie Mingjue has to admit that this is still good; it’s not waking up with Jiang Cheng in bed levels of good, but it comes close, simply because they get to share this soft moment together.

And even though it has been a year Nie Mingjue hasn’t quite forgotten what happened on his last birthday, so when Jiang Cheng’s stomach grumbles and basically wakes them up, Nie Mingjue laughs.

“You’re so rude,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, pawing at him to try and get away, but Nie Mingjue is not going to let him.

“And you’re so starved,” he teases right back, leaning in for a kiss when Jiang Cheng pouts at him.

“I’ll truly be starved by the time dinner comes around,” he complains and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“Get some more cake then?” he tells him even though he has no intention of letting Jiang Cheng out of his arms any time soon.

“First let’s order something,” Jiang Cheng decides, fishing for his phone.

He makes quick work of their order and doesn’t even bother to ask what Nie Mingjue would like; they both have their favourites at several different delivery places and Nie Mingjue is content to simply be surprised by dinner tonight.

“Now let go of me, I’ll starve for real,” Jiang Cheng then says as he puts the phone away and he tries to struggle out of Nie Mingjue’s arms whose intentions haven’t changed.

“Nope, you’ll have to live off my love for you for a while,” Nie Mingjue tells him with a laugh that only gets deeper when Jiang Cheng flops around like a fish.

“You’re ridiculous,” Nie Mingjue says when Jiang Cheng finally exhausted himself and Jiang Cheng blinks up at him.

“You love me,” he says and Nie Mingjue will probably never stop marvelling at the fact that Jiang Cheng doesn’t doubt this at all.

It makes Nie Mingjue very proud to know that he loves Jiang Cheng well enough that none of Jiang Cheng’s insecurities can ruin this.

“That I do,” Nie Mingjue immediately says and drops a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s nose.

They get lost in trading kisses until it rings at their door and even the sweet promise of food is almost not enough to lure Jiang Cheng away from Nie Mingjue.

“Weren’t you starving?” he finally asks when Jiang Cheng makes no move to open the door and that finally prompts Jiang Cheng to get up.

“I was living off your love,” he throws over his shoulder even as he goes to retrieve their food and Nie Mingjue takes that little window of opportunity to dart into the bedroom to get his gift.

The gift giving part of the day is already over, but Nie Mingjue didn’t want to do this with everyone else around; this is just for him and Jiang Cheng, at least for today.

He makes a detour through the kitchen to bring supplies to the living-room and when he comes back Jiang Cheng is already unloading their food on the table.

“Do you know what you want to watch?” Jiang Cheng asks him as he works, not sparing a glance for Nie Mingjue.

“Yep,” Nie Mingjue says, even though a movie is very far from his mind right now and when Jiang Cheng expectantly turns around to him, he slips the gift onto Jiang Cheng’s plate.

He’s of course not fast enough to escape Jiang Cheng’s notice, so he immediately turns around to look at what Nie Mingjue just did.

“What the hell is this?” Jiang Cheng demands to know, crossing his arms in front of his chest and Nie Mingjue sits down on the couch, pretending that his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest.

“What does it look like?” he innocently gives back and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him.

“Like a goddamn present.”

“Then that’s probably what it is,” Nie Mingjue teasingly says and doesn’t shrink back under Jiang Cheng’s glare.

“It’s your birthday. Why the hell am I getting a gift?”

“It is, technically, a gift for me,” Nie Mingjue says and now the glare melts off Jiang Cheng’s face to turn into a confused frown.

“But I’m the one who’s supposed to open it?”

“Yes.”

“Mh,” Jiang Cheng hums out and gingerly picks the wrapped gift up.

He tries to shake it to see if it rattles and he seems surprised when it does.

“Am I going to break it?”

“I don’t know. Are you?” Nie Mingjue laughs out when Jiang Cheng continues to poke at it instead of opening it up but finally he rips the wrapping paper apart.

He is met with a cardboard box Nie Mingjue found lying around in their bedroom this morning and it clearly does nothing to solve his confusion.

“What the hell is this?” he breathes out again, working on getting the box open and Nie Mingjue leans forward in anticipation.

It seems as if Jiang Cheng’s impatience finally won out because he rips the box open the last bit and then he immediately freezes.

And Nie Mingjue slides off the couch, onto one knee.

“My heart,” he starts as he reaches into the box to get the little black box out and it seems as just that is enough to make Jiang Cheng cry.

“Yes,” he gets out, his voice all choked up and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“I didn’t even say anything yet, don’t be so impatient,” he chides him but he catches Jiang Cheng’s hand in his to press a kiss to his fingers.

“My heart,” he repeats. “Will you give me the greatest birthday gift of them all and marry me?” he then asks and flicks the box open to reveal a ring.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jiang Cheng chants out, tearing his gaze away from the ring and cupping Nie Mingjue’s face in his hands. “I will marry you, my soul,” he whispers and when he leans in to kiss Nie Mingjue the tears spill over.

“Best birthday ever,” Nie Mingjue mumbles when they part and he takes that opportunity to slide the ring on Jiang Cheng’s finger.

“Best birthday ever,” Jiang Cheng agrees, marvelling at the ring now on his hand and Nie Mingjue isn’t sure if he’s ever seen him smiling so much.

But to be fair, he isn’t sure if he’s ever smiled so much in his life before either.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng tells him, intertwining their fingers and Nie Mingjue feels as if he’s going to melt with all the love he has for this man.

“I love you,” he gives back even though that should be pretty much obvious by now and then he pulls Jiang Cheng in for a kiss.

Their food is—yet again—cold by the time they manage to part enough to remember it but Nie Mingjue thinks if this is the tradition they are going to set for his birthday then he’s not going to mind that much.

Not if being incandescently happy comes right along with that.

[rosiebaybie]

Fun in the Rage Cage

(For a date, Emily rents out a Rage Room in downtown Brooklyn, so she, Thomas and Rosie [my s/i] can destroy anything they want to. Though nervous, Rosie and Thomas attempt to try out this 'rage room' activity, and end up getting even more invested than they ever anticipated.)

[This fanfic was greatly inspired by both Game Grumps' video on rage rooms, as well as Unus Annus's old Rage Room video. Memento Mori, and I hope you all enjoy!]

Thomas put on the orange helmet and tightened it up. “I feel like a wrecking crew member,” he admitted. 

Emily laughed as she helped her boyfriend tighten it a slight bit more. “We kind of are, in a way,” Emily replied. 

“So…What’s the point of this ‘rage cage’ place?” Rosie asked.

Emilu chuckled. “It’s supposed to be a place where you can release all your anger in a safe environment.”

“Huh…” Rosie looked at Thomas. “And you wanted to do this?” she asked. 

“Eeeh…” Thomas zipped up the white onesie cover. “Emily insisted I try it out.”

“Because I know you’re gonna enjoy it.” Emily told him. 

“And I can’t use fire casts because…” Rosie asked. 

“Because it could be considered cheating.” Emily admitted, before knocking on Thomas’s helmet to tell him it’s ready. 

Thomas put the face shield over his helmet. “Plus, we don’t know if and how much of the stuff in the room is flammable, so it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he added. 

Rosie nodded as she zipped up the white, baggy onesie for the room, making sure to leave some room for her wings. “Alright,” Rosie said, “but still…this had to be expensive.”

Emily shook her head. “Don’t worry. We covered the costs. I always save up for a fun activity like this. And considering the royalty checks we get from Mattel, this is nothing.”

Thomas chuckled and put the face shield onto Emily. “There ya go, babe,” Thomas said. “No going home with glass in your eyes.”

“Thanks!” Emily said, chuckling at her boyfriend’s words. “You two ready?”

Rosie put on her face shield and smiled. “I think so,” Rosie said, “but how much time do we have to smash?”

Thomas smiled. “About an hour.”

“...That’s it?” Rosie reacted. 

Emily laughed. “The sessions were in 30 minute intervals. And considering there were three of us, I figured 30 minutes wouldn’t be enough time. An hour will feel a lot longer than it is. I promise.”

Emily led the way, heading out of the locker rooms and walking to the room they would be smashing things in. After the employee explained the ground rules of the rage cage, they were sent in for the session. “The first 30 minutes starts…NOW.” The person clicked the timer before closing the door. 

Rosie took a quick scan of the stuff that were in the room. There were several plates and glasses on the side table, several different types of dated electronics on the ground and on black tables in the room, a half-dozen ballistic dummy torsos on a hip-high shelf, and even a bunch of weapons of varying eras leaning against the one wall. 

“Whoa…” Rosie muttered.

“Hey, Emmy!” Thomas said, picking up the baseball bat and gently throwing it vertically to Emily. “Batter up!”

Emily grabbed the bat midair, and drew it back behind her. Thomas threw a plate over at his girlfriend,l and watched as Emily swung at the plate, smashing it to tiny pieces. “WOOOO!” Emily cheered, raising the baseball bat in the air with both her hands. 

“Nice one!” Thomas reacted. 

Rosie walked up to the wall, which had several weapons hung up against it by nails. She wasn’t sure which one to choose at first…but then a very fantasy-looking dagger caught her eye. She picked it up, and held it with both her hands with shock. “How did this beauty get in here?!” Rosie asked with a big, almost psychotic smile on her face. 

“I don’t know.” Emily told her. “Maybe it was donated or something. Though I’m not sure why someone wouldn’t want to keep it.”

Rosie looked around at the items, unsure what to hit. “Hmm…” she mumbled. She eyed a clear gel torso with scale organs. “What’s this?” she asked. 

Emily smirked. “It’s a ballistics dummy.” Emily explained. “People use it to test weapons and stuff like that. I’ve seen them use it all the time on Forged in Fire, but I didn’t think they’d use any here.”

Rosie drew back the dagger as if she was Macduff about to stab Macbeth. 

“Hold on!” Thomas yelled. 

Rosie froze before lowering the dagger. “Yeah?” she asked. 

Thomas picked up the dummy and put it on the floor, front up. He backed up, and smiled a bit. “I figured you wanted it at a more accessible level,” Thomas admitted. 

Rosie nodded. “Thank you.” She replied with an innocent smile, kneeling over the dummy. And within a second, her innocent smile snapped into a face full of angelic rage as she let out an inhuman war cry and absolutely shoved the dagger into the heart of the dummy!

Thomas shielded his face with his hand, backing up a bit. “HOLY COW!” 

“That’s my wife,” Emily chuckled before turning  on Aishite Aishite Aishite on her phone.

“Hahahahahaha…HAHAHAHAHAHA!” Rosie shanked and slashed the dummy several times as the blood-like fluid splattered all over the room and herself! “DIE, YOU RED-BLOODED SPAWN OF ADAM!” Rosie screeched, plunging her hand into the dummy and pulling out its heart and held it over her head triumphantly. 

Thomas looked at Emily with growing fear on his face. 

Emily chuckled at Thomas’s face. “What? Are you picturing yourself as the dummy or something?” Emily asked. 

Thomas bit his lip. If he wasn’t picturing it before, he certainly was now. 

A couple seconds later, Rosie yeeted the dagger to the side before grabbing the dummy’s head and completely ripping it off it’s shoulders! The neck of the dummy made a satisfying shlcrack as it was severed from its body, “blood” dripping from the disconnected joint. 

Then, Rosie turned around, threw the head over her shoulder, and smiled brightly and almost innocently at the boys. “This is fun!” she reacted. 

Emily smiled with amusement on her face. “Alright. Note to self: Don’t piss off an angel.” she joked. 

Rosie tilted her head. “You didn’t know that before?” she teased. 

Emily put her hands up in arrest before handing Thomas the baseball bat. “Time to see what you’re made of, Thom.” Emily told him, grabbing a plate.

Thomas looked at the bat, and tapped it on the ground. “Are you sure about this?” Thomas asked, a little nervous. 

“You’ll be fine! It’s just like baseball…just with a large plate, instead of a tiny ball,” Emily told him. “Just swing the bat when the plate gets close enough.”

Thomas nodded and drew back the bat. When Emily threw the plate, Thomas swung at it, breaking the plate with the baseball bat midair and making glass shards explode within a 360 degree radius!  Thomas flinched and covered his head instinctively, while Emily laughed “Wow! I see you’ve kept up your batting skills.” she reacted. 

Thomas looked at Emily with a smile mixed with slight nervousness. “That was…nerve-wracking.” Thomas admitted. He held out his hand with a chuckle. “I’m shaking.”

“That’s good! That means the adrenaline is kicking in.” Emily told him. “And remember, you’re wearing safety equipment. You’re not gonna get hurt.”

Thomas bit his lip, unsure. “I don’t know…” he admitted. 

Emily picked up another plate. “Just give it another shot,” she offered, holding up the blue plate. 

Thomas let out a long breath before he hit the bat against his heels like a traditional batter. 

“Come on, Thomas!” Rosie cheered. “You can do it!” 

Thomas chuckled a bit as he drew his bat back again and focused on the plate. When Emily threw the plate to him, Thomas squeezed his eyes shut and swung the bat. The bat destroyed the plate midair, breaking the plate into bigger-sized chunks. The bat also happened to knock the plate into the wall, where it smashed into even more tiny pieces! 

Thomas gasped. “WHOA—HOLY SHIT!” he shouted. 

“WOOHOOOOO!” Rosie cheered, clapping her hands with pride.

“Now how was that?!” Emily asked. “Was that better?!” 

Thomas looked at Emily with the biggest, most energetic smile on his face. “That was AWESOME!” Thomas shouted, jumping up and throwing his fist into the air.

Emily laughed and patted Thomas’s shoulder. “I knew you’d enjoy it,” she replied. 

Rosie looked at the other weapons, and grabbed a golf club. “I didn’t know a golf club counted as a weapon,” she admitted. 

“Wanna try it out?” Emily asked. 

Rosie nodded and looked around at the other things that were in the room. She looked at the computer screen, and smirked. She drew the golf club back like a baseball bat. “FOOOORE!” She smashed the computer screen, causing a huge crack in the screen. 

Thomas chuckled and picked up a large wrench off the wall. “Hey Emmy…” Thomas said with a big smirk. 

Emily gasped and took the wrench from her boyfriend’s hands. When Thomas backed up, Emily swung it around a bit, and wiped away a slight bit of dust from the wrench. “Oh HECK YES!” Emily yelled. She turned around and looked at the unplugged clock that was on the ground nearby. “Hey! Don’t like what time it is?” Emily asked, picking up the clock. She threw the clock in the air, readied her wrench and demolished the digital clock midair. “TIME IS AN ILLUSION!” Emily shouted, before crumbling into laughter. 

Rosie burst out in hysterical laughter. Emily picked up a big beer bottle. “Tired of your uncle drinking too much beer?!” Emily asked. She threw it against the wall, making it smash into tiny bits. “GO TO REHAB!” Emily shouted. 

Thomas wheezed and doubled over, laughing his head off. Then, he looked over at a small flip phone that was on the table. He picked it up. “Tired of those awful telemarketers?!” Thomas asked, before throwing it up and blasting his baseball bat into the flip phone. “GET A REAL JOB!” he shouted. 

Emily wheezed and cackled super loudly. “Ohoho myhy gohohod!” Emily snorted. “Buhut telemarketing IS a real job!”

“Not in my book.” Thomas shot back. 

Emily looked over at Rosie with a smirk. “Does anything ever piss you off?” she asked. 

Rosie smirked and picked up a sledgehammer. “You ever feel proud of yourself because you’re in first place in a game of Mario Kart, only to get hit by a slew of red, green, and blue shells and knocked into third place?” Rosie asked before drawing the sledgehammer back. “And then you just wanna go-” She smashed the sledgehammer into the top of an old-fashioned stereo. “AAAAAAAUGH!” Rosie smashed the stereo one more time, for good measure. “FUGGIT!” Rosie screamed as loud as he possibly could. 

Emily fell over and absolutely HOWLED with newfound laughter! “OHOHO MY GOD YEEEHEHEHESS!” she cackled. 

Thomas watched with growing fear on his face once again…accompanied by a nervous smile. “Wow…” was all Thomas could say at that point. 

“Okay. New challenge:” Emily picked up a couple plates. “What is the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?” Emily asked before handing them the plates. “Say the stupid thing, and then throw the plate.”

Thomas smirked. “Okay. You go first,” Thomas told Emily. 

Emily shrugged her shoulders. “Alright,” she readied herself and cleared her throat. “Men should be in control again!” Emily said before smashing the plate against the wall. “NO WAY IN HELL! THERE ARE MILLIONS OF CASES DISPROVING THAT!” Emily shouted afterwards. 

Rosie laughed at her words before looking over at Thomas. “You go next!” Rosie told him. 

Thomas smirked. “Sir Topham Hatt was right to be mad at you in Sodor’s Legend of the Lost Treasure!” Thomas threw the plate onto the floor. “THAT STATEMENT IS ARYAN AUTHORITARIANISM INCARNATE!” Thomas screamed.

Emily tittered and laughed. “Ohoho gosh! You tell ‘em!” she her.

Rosie nodded and cleared her throat. “I don’t deserve to exist.” Rosie threw the plate at the wall. “THAT IS SO UNTRUE, IT SHOULD BE A GOD DAMN CRIME.” she shouted. “YOU ARE LOVED, YOU ARE WORTHY, AND WHOEVER TELLS YOU OTHERWISE SHOULD ROT ALONE IN THE DEEPEST BOWELS OF HELL.” Rosie finished. 

The room went completely silent. It was so quiet, one could easily hear a pin drop. The only sound you could somewhat hear was Rosie’s heavy breathing. And even THAT was somewhat muffled by the shield. Thomas and Emily were staring at Rosie, completely thrown off guard by Rosie’s unusually personal response. Emily stared at Rosie with awe. Everything in her was aching to say something. “I….” was all that came out of her mouth. Even if Emily wanted to say something…what was she supposed to say? 

Rosie turned to look at Emily. “Sorry…was that too personal?” Rosie asked with slight worry on her face. 

Emily was taken aback. “No! No no no, it wasn’t. But…” Emily struggled to think. “That was just…not the answer I was expecting from you.”

Thomas looked at Rosie with worry, before placing his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” Thomas asked. 

Rosie looked over at Thomas, and nodded her head. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Rosie said back. “Sorry to make it personal.”

Emily shook her head. “No. I…think you had the best answer out of all of us.” Emily admitted. 

Rosie tilted her head. “Really?” 

Emily nodded. “Yeah! There are millions of people who still believe they don’t deserve to exist because of their species, race, gender, sexuality, socio-politico-economic stance, neurodivergence, or for a variety of other reasons—maybe even for no reason at all. And unfortunately, no matter how much they’re told otherwise, they still believe it.”

Rosie nodded. “Yup. I wish I could gank every person that told those people that they didn’t deserve love,” she admitted. 

Emily sighed and chuckled dryly. “I know what you’re trying to say, but…that’s billions of people. And as much as that would really bring a much needed drop in global population, I really don’t want that on your record, especially since your trying to go back to Heaven and all.”

Rosie chuckled. “Yeah…that’s true,” she muttered. 

Emily picked up the baseball bat and handed it to Rosie. “How about we smash something I know has REALLY pissed you off?” Emily offered. 

Rosie looked at the bat, before looking at Emily. “What is it?” Rosie asked. 

Emily smiled and opened the door. “Be right back,” she told him before leaving. 

Rosie looked at Thomas with confusion. But Thomas looked equally as confused. They had no idea what Emily was going to bring into the room. But…knowing Emily, it was going to be something good. “Hey Rosie?” Thomas called, picking up a skillet off the wall and holding it in his hand. “Wanna break something with an iron skillet?”

Rosie giggled and nodded her head. She hung up the baseball bat before grabbing another skillet that was on the wall. With that in hand, she looked around for something else to smash. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Rosie to find something that was already partly smashed up, but still had more pain to go through: the printer from earlier. 

Rosie placed the printer back onto the table, and brought the skillet behind his head. “EAT PAN, PRINTER!” she shouted as she destroyed the printer with the skillet. 

Thomas cheered and waved his fists in the air. “KILL! KILL! KILL!” he shouted. 

Rosie swung the skillet down. “YAAAAAAH!” She shouted as it made contact with the printer. She drew the skillet back one more time, let out a strong, rage-filled battle cry before completely flattening the rest of the printer with the side of the skillet. Rosie breathed somewhat heavily with a smirk as she dusted off the side of the skillet. “You just met the wrath of an angel,” she declared proudly. 

Thomas wheezed and fell over, laughing his heart out. “WOHOHOW! Are there cameras in here?” he asked, looking around the room. He smiled brightly as he saw the tiny camera in the top right corner of the room. “Yes! There is!” Thomas reacted, pointing to it. 

“Oh! I guess there are. Hi there!” Rosie reacted, waving to the camera. 

“Emily’s gonna want to see your frying pan action on video.” Thomas told her. “Do you think we can get that saved on a DVD, like we did for the Hit Parade in Tennessee?”

A little beeping sound filled the room for a moment. “Sure! We can certainly do that! Better yet, we can have it sent via email so you can save it on your phones!” The voice of the employee told them through the speaker. 

“Awesome!” Thomas reacted. “Cause Emily’s gonna regret missing out on seeing that.”

Rosie chuckled and scratched the back of her head. “Yeah…” Rosie mumbled. 

Right on cue, Emily opened the door and closed it behind her. “Okay. I got it.” Emily said. She turned around and went to grab a table, when she noticed that the printer looked even more beat up than it was before. “Wait a minute…” Emily looked at her wife, who was hanging the skillet back up on the wall. “Did you do this, Rosie?” she asked. 

Rosie giggled. “Yeah, I did,” she replied. 

“Aw man…” Emily reacted. 

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll have it on video for you after the hour is up.” The employee told them through the speaker. 

Emily smiled brightly. “Can’t wait to see it.” She added as he walked up to the table.

“Also, the typewriter will be added to your bill at the end,” the employee added. 

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Typewriter? What-” Rosie widened her eyes as she saw the big, bulky black typewriter get placed onto the black table by Emily. “YOU DID NOT…” Rosie shouted with a growing grin on her face. 

Emily chuckled and swiped her hands free of the dust. “You remember how much those reports and essays pissed you off in the early days of the studio?” Emily asked. “Especially when you made 1 little mistake on one of the scripts, and had to redo the whole page all over again?”

Rosie quickly removed the skillet off the wall again and looked at the typewriter with the most psychotic, adrenaline-filled face Emily had ever seen on Rosie.

“Count me down.” Rosie told them enthusiastically. 

Emily and Thomas looked at each other with slight worry on their faces, before smiling nervously and doing as she said. “3…” Emily said, setting up a table as a makeshift barricade.

“2…” Thomas said next as he ducked behind the chair.

“1…” Emily said, partly sheltering herself with the makeshift barricade and clicking ‘record’ on her camera. 

“GO!” Thomas shouted. 

Rosie let out the loudest, strongest, most rage-filled war cry she could possibly muster as she threw the skillet down onto the typewriter. The typewriter keys smashed, the ribbon cover fell off, and the whole typewriter actually bounced up a couple inches post-impact. Emily had to cover her mouth to prevent from screeching with shock and excitement. And Rosie was far from done! She used every ounce of strength in herself to turn the stupid typewriter into a mess of broken parts. 

“AAAAAAAH!” 

<SMASH!>

“STUPID!-” 

<CLANG!>

“PIECE!-” 

<CRUSH!>

“-OF SHIT!” Rosie shouted loudly, before unloading one more destructive smash onto the typewriter. The best part about the typewriter was how durable it was…meaning Rosie needed to put a lot of strength and dedication into its destruction. 

And boy, did she ever deliver! To the point where Emily was in awe! She had NEVER, EVER seen Rosie so filled with blinding rage! This was the type of stuff that not even Jimmy Cagney was capable of showing on screen! And here was her bubbly and kindhearted wife…completely losing her shit against a typewriter with a goddamn iron skillet of all things! 

And the skillet wasn’t the only weapon she used. Rosie would switch out weapons occasionally, to get a new type of smash out of the experience. Every hit felt like a new revelation for Emily. Rosie was capable of much more anger than even she herself could ever show! It was INSANE! 

Meanwhile, Thomas was having the time of her life, just watching Rosie unleash her years-long, pent-up emotions! He was screaming, cheering, shouting and jumping around, losing his mind as he watched Rosie destroy this ‘typewriter’ thing. 

Several smashes later, and Rosie was dripping with sweat and almost wheezing amidst her heavy breathing. Thomas and Emily almost felt bad seeing Rosie push herself beyond her limits. So, Emily stopped the recording and put the camera into her pocket as Thomas took the skillet from Rosie. “Here…” Thomas brought Rosie to a chair and took off the shield for a moment. “Cool yourself off,”

“This…” Rosie let out a long breath, before laughing breathlessly. “This was the best idea you have ever come up with!”

Thomas smiled brightly upon hearing that. “Thanks,” he told her. “Now take a big break. I’m gonna make sure I get some smashing in too.”

Rosie tittered and said something under her breath.

Thomas paused for a moment, and turned to look at Rosie. “What did you say?” he asked. 

Rosie wheezed. “Ihi said ‘that’s what you said about Emily’.” she declared. 

Thomas widened his eyes in shock and guffawed, covering his mouth. “HAHAHA! Ohoho gohohod…Cohohome ohohon, Rosie!” Thomas laughed. “Seheriously?!”

“It made you laugh. You know it did.” Rosie reminded her. 

Thomas sighed and pushed Rosie’s head and helmet away, before walking back to the destruction room. “Okay.” Thomas picked up his trusty wrench, and smirked as he looked at the typewriter. “My turn.” Thomas declared before smashing the wrench into the typewriter. Thomas would also end up picking up the glass cups that were nearby,  and making towers out of them. He would break the glasses a couple at a time with the wrench, before knocking the glass off the table. Break a few glasses, remove glass. Break a few more glasses, remove the glass. And after about 10 minutes, Rosie would join back and start destroying things all over again. Emily would end up putting the skillet to good use too. It ended up being the best ‘vacation’ they could’ve ever asked for. At that moment, who needed Mexico, Hawaii or Paris, when they could have printers, glasses and typewriters to smash in the Rage Cage?

The end.

[Oh! And before you go, I wanted to let you know: The Rage Cage is a real place in Brooklyn, where you can smash and destroy things to your heart's desire! It's by appointment only and you can book 30 minute sessions based on how many people you're doing it with, and how much stuff you wanna break. Though this fanfic will not be entirely accurate, it still gives a general jist of what is involved in these rage rooms.]

[chloedanvers13]

Y’know, what? No time like the present…

First and foremost, Happy Pride!!! 🧡🤍🩷

Second, I suppose a more-proper introduction is in order…

Hi! My name’s Chloe! (I suppose the username tipped you off to that, but I digress.) I am a 30-something trans-femme demi-sapphic woman living, begrudgingly, in the American MidWest.

I am a massive nerd (pop-culture, DC Comics, Music, among others), and well… as you can see also, my chosen last-name is Danvers… so I’m not even gonna lie when I say that my personal inspiration for the kind of person I want to be is Kara (Zor-El) Danvers herself. [Doesn’t hurt that I dumb-lucked into finding my personal Cat Grant… tis the silver-est of linings.💜☀️]

I am a fledgling writer, though I have largely been in a 10ish year slump of writers block… currently trying to claw my way out of it starting with what has been my brain’s salvation these last few years: fan-fiction.

And in that vein, I figure, how better to get to know me, than to talk about my favorite ships, and why they resonate with me. So, let’s do this. :)

Bechloe: My first ship, even though I didn’t realize it at first. I’ve come a long way as an individual, so much so I watched Pitch Perfect the first time and saw 0 sapphic subtext between Beca and Chloe. (That is VERY much not that case now, I assure you. Lolz) So, why them? I’m a sucker for a grumpy/sunshine dynamic (we will revisit this later, I assure you. Lolz) between two women, and especially watching the sunshine warm up the grump a little. ❤️

Also doesn’t hurt this ship’s chances that this Chloe is THE Chloe that my name comes from… aspirationally, that kind of girl is inside me, but life has made me a bit more of a Beca, if that makes sense. Lolz

SuperCat: I could go on for days about them. Once again, Grumpy/ Sunshine, and I mean, I am literally a Danvers, so… lolz. Suffice it to say, they are a pair put on my radar by ‘My’ Cat…. And I have not shut up about them ever since. Seriously, the fact my partner still encourages it is a Raosend. Lolz I won’t go into much more detail, because my writing will do that for them, in spades.. whether it’s SuperCat, or AstraCat…. (No, not Aunt Astra… but consider this a tease for my SG-rewrite. ;) )

Chenrich: “Life is Strange: True Colors” is my favorite game, of all time. I’ve platinumed it, and I’m working on the perameters of a playthrough that gives me different challenges. But all that being said, when I see Steph and got her vibe, I burst out in a laugh and called it my “discount Beca Mitchell dating simulator”.. and I was not disappointed. ❤️ (btw, my canon ending? Alex and Steph stay in Haven Springs, and get the Black Lantern and turn it into a nerd bar… maybe one day I’ll write it. Who knows? Lolz)

Avalance: this is my semi-unexpected one… my brain is almost always in National City.. but these two, they grew on me, so hard. It doesn’t hurt that my partner broke my brain by telling me she saw a lot of Sara in me… and it took me years to finally see it too. (Though I will always, shamelessly, be a Kara… lolz) Co-Captains for life, babe. 💜☀️

Alright, that just may be enough to prolly not tell you all that much. But I’m an open book! And my asks are actually open now. Lolz

Alright, one more random thing, because why not? So… when I world build, I sometimes go to weird tangents… like, I may not have fleshed-out plot-lines… but I have 3 seasons of villian progression, and I’ve created the ice cream flavor made for her by a grateful National Citizen… (it’s “Swirl From The Stars”.. Fic is a lifesaver, swear to Rao. ☀️)

Alright, I’ve rambled on enough. I hope this finds all of you well, and once again, today and every single day ever…. Happy Pride!! 🧡🤍🩷

El Mayarah,

Chlo. 💜☀️

[gendervapor14]

DoflaminBROS Week 2023 - Day 2: smile

today i bring you: another angsty brompt (see what i did there) for the DoflaminBROS Week 2023 event! this one's a little more lighthearted than the previous entry. still got that lovely layer of angst i can't seem to avoid, but it features everyone's favorite little edgy lad. hope you enjoy!! :D

characters: law, doflamingo, rosinante additional tags & cw: canon compliant, angst, character study, major character death

special thanks to @gali-la for beta reading <3

Doflamingo smiled all the time. Law had seen well over a-thousand in the span of a week. It was an easy answer. It pissed him off, if he was being honest. When he was excited, he smiled. When he was pissed, he smiled. Relaxing, seething, organizing, chatting about the goddamn weather. He could never tell what he was thinking, what that bastard was planning. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter. He was going to be Doflamingo’s right-hand man. He’d have plenty of time to get used to those smiles. Plenty of time to figure him out. 

Doflamingo wasn’t the only subject of ire and frustration. His brother was unhinged. Law himself was a bit of a grump, the butt of every joke regarding his late sister’s bubblier personality, but these blond bastards took the cake. Corazón was nothing like Doflamingo. He never smiled, and when he did, it was something undeniably fake. No, he was always scowling, or fuming, or staring into space, dissociating. A different kind of mental. 

Honestly, some days, Law couldn’t be sure who he hated more. Doflamingo was an egotistical megalomaniac, but at least he would bring Law’s dreams to fruition. Corazón was a living, breathing, waste-of-space, as far as he was concerned, but at least he wasn’t laughing all the time, and smiling, and making him feel even more sick with that booming, echoing racket.

One day he spoke. And he smiled. Nothing like those crazed grins from the pink-feathered freak. It was devious, yes. It was cunning. But there was something real to it. It wasn’t so gummy, it wasn’t so strained, the muscles in his neck were relaxed and the apples of his cheeks weren’t threatening to split through the skin. It was natural. As natural as speaking, apparently. And it was ridiculous. 

Law tried to leave it behind. He really tried to play fair. But he supposed they were brothers, after all.

Turned out the dumbass did smile a lot. Too much. He smiled when he promised this hospital was going to be better than the last. He smiled when he cooked them shitty meals or purchased cheap goods. He smiled when he sang those horrible shanties. He smiled and laughed when Law would go on one of his more creative insulting sprees. 

He smiled when Law hated him. Smiled when Law loved him, too. How the hell did that bastard find it in him to smile all the time? When he knew those were his last words? When he faced his final hour? 

One thing was for sure. Doflamingo’s paled in comparison. Law thought that through with a palm pressed firm on that wrinkled page, the final draft of their jolly roger planted on the steely table. He didn’t have the same heart to smile so much, but he’d carry it with him however he could.

thank you so much for hosting this @opdoffyzine and @corazine!!

previous entry here!

[faunandfl0ra]

TIMING: The 8th of June

LOCATION: Conor’s flower shop

PARTIES: Conor @faunandfl0ra & Bridie @itzbridiebitch

SUMMARY: Bridie and the voices in her head come to Conor's shop for flowers, pink flowers.

CONTENT WARNINGS: none

Bridie was on edge. 

Having voices in her head was not a normal occurrence. She probably wouldn’t have minded if they had been nice voices. But the voices weren’t nice. They were the opposite of nice. And their sudden appearance was, to put it frankly, stressing her the fuck out. 

So she decided she deserved a treat. 

Walking into the florist shop, she hoped the faun she’d met previously was working. “Hello?” She called in as she opened the door. The voice in her brain had taken to soft muttering, and at her hello it’s volume rose. Bridie flinched, shaking her head. God damn it, please let this interaction be halfway normal. “It’s Bridie… from Tír na nÓg?”

_____

He felt her before he heard her voice, he felt that buzzing, that weird tingle across his skin. He had met a few other fae since they’d first spoken, and although he was now experiencing some levels of regrets regarding how he handled meeting her, Conor wasn’t one to easily apologize, and he was still worried that she would make him anxious with her high levels of energy. He didn’t pick up immediately on her tone, though that wasn’t precisely a surprise. He didn’t really register those details, usually. 

“I remember ya,” he commented, as dryly as their context would demand. 

The florist was tying a piece of raphia around the stems of a flower bouquet, the final touch before he set it in a vase for someone to buy later. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He dreaded what her answer might be. Maybe she decided she no longer would need his help with flowers, considering how everything went. That wouldn’t be pleasant. Maybe she needed more flowers. He’d rather have it that way. 

____

“Oh cool, yay. Happy to be remembered!” Bridie said, sounding almost too chipper. As if by sheer will, she could out-happy the voice’s incessant bad. The chattering faded into silence. Ha. Take that voice. The faun stood taller, letting the worry melt off her as she took a deep breath of the air in the flower shop, letting the sweet smell of flowers carry her worries away. 

“Yeah! Actually there is. I’d like some flowers, and you seemed like the go to guy for that.” She smiled. “I just thought I deserved a treat. It’s not anything huge like last time- I don’t need any huge arrangements or anything. Just something cute. And pink.” Bridie rambled, relishing in the fact that the only voice in her head was hers. 

_____

"I can't see how I could forget meeting you, it was rather unpleasant," he stated. She had, after all, assaulted with the sort of energy generally found in fauns, according to books, at least, and the two fauns he had ever met. That had left him feeling stressed, ambushed and nowhere near eager to meet more of his kind. She was quieter today. He appreciated the change. 

It was a shame it seemed like it wouldn't last.

“Flowers. I suppose I can do that for ya,” he wiped his hands dry on the rag tied to his apron’s belt and gave her a once-over. If he couldn’t really put his finger on what had changed with her, there was a difference between the one he saw last month, and the one standing before him now. “Cute and pink, alright,” that elicited a small smile out of him. “Hot pink, I’m guessing?” She might have sported cotton candy colored curls, her sparkly, bubbly personality screamed vibrant colors to him. “Do you want a bouquet or…” He shifted his weight from one hoove to the other, hesitant. Nah, a bouquet was probably simpler than a flower crown, even if he thought it to be nicer. He didn’t like imposing his thoughts. “Nevermind.” Joining her side, he picked up a bright pink gerbera from a vase and handed it over to her. “That shade?”

____

The fact that she’d earned a smile out of this grump of a goat usually would have elicited a delighted giggle, or at least a matching grin from Bridie. Instead, it was a small stilted smile, as if smiling fully would summon the voices in her head. 

“Hot pink is perfect,” she said, injecting as much happy into her tone as she could. She was happy, and pink, and nothing was wrong. The other faun handed her a bright pink flower. Her fingers were about to close around it, when the voice whispered as though it were right behind her, breathing down her neck. Bridie flinched away, choking on the distressed squeak that tried to fight its way out of her. She coughed clearing her throat, trying to play it off as if it was just a cough. “Yeah that’s perfect,” she said, her tone distracted. “Totally perfect.”

_____

“Amen then, mass has been said,” he declared. You couldn’t call that look on his face quite delight, but it was perhaps the happiest he had looked so far around the other faun. Conor nearly dropped the flower to the floor, when she squeaked and crispated, as if the flower had just burned her fingers. Holding his hand close against his chest, he realized he’d broken the stem and it was his turn to clear his throat. 

“Ahem, you don’t seem entirely convinced, or entirely well,” he pointed out, reaching in his apron for sheers, cutting clean the stem and tossing the damaged end behind his counter. Then, reaching forward carefully, he held it back to her. “You can put that one in your hair,” he offered, picking up a new one already, and busying himself with the different pink filled vases. “Why do you want to buy flowers today?” He asked, curious to know what brought her here. She didn’t come here to torment him, was she?

__

She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. Play it cool, Bridie, you can do it. But the question skittered in her brain. Could she?

“I’m f-“ the word caught in her mouth. She cleared her throat and tried again, tried to convince herself it was true. “I’m fi-“ once again the word was trapped, unable to free itself. She gave a defeated sound, opting for silence instead of the lie. She looked down at the flower he held out. It was a kind gesture. Bridie hesitantly plucked the flower from his hand, tucking it in her hair. If the flower had been the catalyst for the voice, it had decided the flower was acceptable now. 

“I’m tired.” She said as an explanation. It wasn’t a lie. Ha. She thought. “I didn’t really sleep last night.”

____

“You can’t lie either, can you?” Ever since his conversation with Regan, he has started to think about all these things that either felt weird or different. People lied, but Conor never did. He didn’t like it. Still, his sarcasms sometimes earned him a nice stomach ache. 

Seeing her take the flower was a relief. It wasn’t much, sure, but it was nice knowing that he didn’t do anything wrong here. “It looks pretty,” and it did. The vibrancy of those bright pink petals brought even more light to her pastel hair. 

“Busy night at work?” It happened to him sometimes. He could not find sleep. It was often in those restless moments that incidents happened. He’d often feed in those moments, but when he’d come back home, while satiated, he would carry with him a certain motion in his chest that was akin to panic. “You should nap,” he suggested.

___

“Fae don’t lie.” She said simply in response, a frustrated scowl on her face at the words that simply refused to obey. She usually didn’t mind it, having to tell the truth. But she usually didn’t have much to hide, and when she did, she always knew the right way to talk her way around it. This time, however… Bridie didn’t know how to explain her situation without sounding insane. Maybe she was insane. She blinked at the unexpected three words. She paused a moment making certain they hadn’t come from the phantom voice in her mind. “Thank you,” she said hesitantly, raising a hand to touch the flower in her hair. 

“No.” She said bluntly. She couldn’t lie, so what was the point in trying. Maybe she just wouldn’t elaborate. That seemed like a reasonable solution. “I can’t nap.” Bridie had tried. The voice would always show back up when she was on the edge of slumber. “So I’m just. Up for the day.”

____

“Fae don’t lie,” he pursed his lips. Conor didn’t really mind. It was comforting, he supposed, sharing something in common with a whole group of people. Perhaps he’d get along with other fae then. He’d never much liked liars, and people did that all the time. Idly picking shades of fuschia from vases and slowly building the brightest monochrome bouquet he had in a while. It wasn’t the sort of assignment people usually gave him. People didn’t often buy flowers for themselves, which he found unfortunate. People who waited to be offered flowers probably didn’t have them very often. Perhaps he’d get along with Bridie too. Buying flowers for oneself was a nice way to redeem their past encounter. Still, Conor couldn’t forget how anxious he had felt then. 

“You shouldn’t thank me,” he pointed out. It was another thing he had learned recently. He wasn’t sure if fully understood what it all meant, but the thought of someone owing him wasn’t one he cherished. Perhaps the fact that he’d said that with the most bored, jaded tone would let her know about his state of mind. 

“You can’t nap ?” That seemed unlikely. If she had time to shop for flowers, surely she could have taken that time to nap. “What kept you up all night anyway?” Nevermind that it was none of his business, or that her answer could possibly have him blushing, Conor now was staring right at her, with curious eyes. Her state was like a puzzle, and he couldn’t crack it just yet.

_____

She had been so focused on the voice she hadn’t realized her mistake. She knew better than to thank someone. Those were not words to be used lightly, and yet she’d grown so used to hearing humans throw the two words around so thoughtlessly. Maybe they were rubbing off on her. Bridie frowned. That wasn’t something she could worry about right now. 

“You’re right,” Her voice was soft, as she nodded. She needed to get her head firmly back on her shoulders, or else she was going to wind up in more trouble than she already was. “I was-” There was the voice again, at her other ear. She managed to restrain the flinch a bit more this time, but her hands still balled into fists. 

How could Bridie answer that though? It wasn’t a normal answer, and while she couldn’t lie to others she could still lie to herself. By not saying it aloud, maybe she could convince herself she wasn’t going insane. “It was noisy.” She said, taking the easy way around the truth.

_____

He fell silent. Whatever it was with her was more important than his questions, but then, all she said was that it was noisy. He could only relate to that, though he supposed that with the right earplugs, that wasn’t much of an issue. If that was all that had kept her up, then it was quite the anti-climatic way to unfold that mystery. Conor hummed quietly then. If this was it, then he was better off finishing her bouquet. Maybe she’d get some time to nap, if he hurried up.

“I still think you should nap,” was all he added, before he began counting the flowers to get an idea of the price of her bouquet. “You didn’t give me a budget,” another statement, said with the usual bored tone he so often bore on his tongue. “I can make it bigger, I suppose, but smaller, it’ll look a bit sad, like a supermarket bouquet.” Soulless, without charm. 

_____

She almost jumped at the humming. At first she thought it was another voice that had joined the world's worst party in her mind. Then she realized it was Conor. It wasn’t the sort of sound she expected from them. He’d been cantankerous the last time they’d talked, though that could be due in part to her insistence on asking him as many questions as she could. In this setting though, Bridie thought it seemed right. Her eyes flickered distractedly from watching him, to their surroundings.

She let out a soft laugh. “I will try to nap. I don’t know if it’ll be successful.” A feeble attempt at a smile wobbled onto her lips as she looked at the pretty pink flowers. She ought to have been gushing over them. They were lovely. Instead she simply nodded. “Do whatever you think looks best. I just want something nice.” Maybe something nice would make it all better. 

And then there was a new voice in her head. The faun bit back a yelp at the new voice that hissed dark secrets into her mind. “Just, ya know.” Bridie’s voice was strained as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Go nuts.” A poor choice of words. “Whatever you would do for yourself. But pink.”

_____

Securing his hold on her bouquet, Conor let himself get distracted by his potted plants briefly, idly sticking his finger into the soil to check on the humidity. Wiping it clean on his apron, he gave Bridie another look. He wasn’t sure what had happened to her since the last time he’d seen her. She was a lot more quiet. Maybe, now that she knew what he was, it was no longer necessary to be so excited and curious. Maybe this was what she usually was like : sad. “Something nice,” wasn’t it already nice? With a slight frown, he turned the bouquet toward himself, counting the flowers, and checking the pattern he’d build in his palm. She was right. It could have been nicer. Monochrome didn’t leave much room for contrast, so he had to create it with different shapes and tightness of blooms. 

“Nuts like a coconut, gotcha,” with a smile that finally reached the corners of his eyes, Conor began rearranging the flowers in his hand, adding more variety to it with closed and open peonies, carnations, and smaller gerberas. The bouquet was getting a lot more structured, and the florist knew he was doing a good job when he found himself regretting that he wasn’t making that bouquet for himself. “What about now?” 

——-

“Well it is nice,” Bridie said, rubbing at her eyes. She didn’t know where her head was. Well she did. She just didn’t like where her head was. “I just mean you can do a bit more if you want.”

She blinked. Was that a joke? Did the grumpy goat make a joke? It had to be- there was a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. She laughed- a small delighted noise. When he had finished working, it was stunning. She reached out and brushed a finger along the delicate bloom of a peony. A smile ghosted across her expression. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

_______

The sound of her laughter didn’t irritate his ears this time, and Conor decided to count this as progress. “Perfect’s better than nice,” he agreed, picking a piece of twine from his apron to tie it around his fist first, then around the stems. “I’ll wrap it up for you, in pink,” obviously. He first picked up a large sheet of brown kraft, folding it carefully to marry the curve of the bouquet, then to keep his promise, did the same with a bright pink sheet of paper. 

“Anything else I can do for you?” He paused. This wasn’t really what he ought to tell her. Conor looked up from the bouquet, doing last adjustments with the wrapping paper, to pay her a glance. “I suppose I should apologize, for the other day.” Even if he’d found their first encounter unpleasant, he knew that he had a problem with new situations, and having been in the presence of another faun, another fae, after spending his whole life without meeting one… He had not handled it well at all. 

_____

It was a nice touch. The soft smile on her face held firm, even as the voice started to creep back in on the corner of her mind. Pink flowers in pink paper. It was so perfectly Bridie. So perfectly normal for her. It made it easy to pretend that so much wasn’t going wrong at the moment. 

She shook her head. “No, I think that’s everything. Just the bouquet today.” Today, she said, almost to promise herself that whatever was wrong with her, it wouldn’t be the end of her. She had to come back and get more flowers, after all. “How much do I owe you?” Bridie blinked, almost wondering if it was the voice in her head that had apologized. But no, Conor’s mouth had moved in time with the words she heard. “It’s alright.” The words left her easily. “I did ask you a lot of questions. Probably not the best first impression.”

____

He nodded along to the shake of her head. “Okay.” Conor had been counting her flowers as he picked them up, and it didn’t take him more than a breath to give her the precise amount. “It’s $51.65 but 50’s fine,” he didn’t like to count cash at the end of the day and rounding up prices certainly helped with that. 

He was beginning to hope that she hadn’t blinked out of surprise (the bad sort) when she opened her mouth again. “I just… I haven’t seen a lot of other fae before.” He had seen one before her, one he detested. But he had met a few more too since he ran into Bridie, and it didn’t take a lot for Conor to see that yes, some of them were weird, but so was he, and he didn’t feel like that made him a bad person. “I guess I should be glad I’m not the only faun in town,” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he didn’t know anyone else but her and his father, or that he came here looking for answers. Instead he waited by the counter, his eyes set on the bird of paradise that grew there. 

_____

Bridie fished around in her wallet, pulling out sixty dollars and handing it over. “Just keep the change.” She scooped up the flowers and admired them, eyes shifting across the different shapes and shades in the bouquet. 

She looked at him confused. All the fae she knew grew up with a community. With an aos sí. Fae of all sorts, living together to protect their secrets. Had he grown up alone? Alone, the voice liked that word. Alone, alone, alone, all alone. “I grew up with lots of fae… lots of fauns.” She nodded in agreement. “I’m glad I’m not the only faun in town either.” Not alone, Bridie thought back at the voice. Now I have a friend. “I’ll see you around, Conor.” She fave him a lopsided smile as she walked out the door.

_______

[trashyswitch]

Madness In the Rage Cage

Mario rents out a Rage Room in downtown Brooklyn, so he, Luigi and Peach can destroy anything they want to. Though nervous, Peach and Luigi attempt to try out this 'rage room' activity, and end up getting even more invested than Mario ever anticipated.

Totally didn't spend from 8pm till 12:30am writing this fanfiction...Tooootally not me! But in all seriousness, I was so inspired, I just HAD to write a fanfiction on this! I couldn't NOT do this! That was just not an option! And honestly, I was having so much fun writing this fanfic, that I didn't even think tickling was needed! So...this will be the second normal fanfiction that I've written on this account.

This fanfic was greatly inspired by both Game Grumps' video on rage rooms from 2 months ago, as well as Unus Annus's old Rage Room video. Memento Mori, and I hope you all enjoy!

Luigi put on the orange helmet and tightened it up. “I feel like a wrecking crew member.” Luigi admitted. 

Mario laughed as he helped Luigi tighten it a slight bit more. “We kind of are, in a way.” Mario replied. 

“So…What’s the point of this ‘rage cage’ place?” Peach asked. 

Mario chuckled. “It’s supposed to be a place where you can release all your anger in a safe environment.” Mario told her. 

“Huh…” Peach looked at Luigi. “And you wanted to do this?” Peach asked. 

“Eeeh…” Luigi zipped up the white onesie cover. “Mario insisted I try it out.” Luigi told him. 

“Because I know you’re gonna enjoy it.” Mario told him. 

“And I couldn’t bring power ups because…” Peach asked. 

“Because it could be considered cheating.” Mario admitted, before knocking on Luigi’s helmet to tell him it’s ready. 

Luigi put the face shield over his helmet. “Plus, we don’t know if something we hit is going to ricochet and hit us back, or make us bounce back into the wall.” Luigi added. 

Peach nodded as she zipped up the white, baggy onesie for the room. “Alright.” Peach said. “But still…This had to be expensive.” Peach admitted. 

Mario shook his head. “Don’t worry. We covered the costs.” Mario told her. “We’ve been saving up for a fun activity like this for a while now.” Mario added. “And considering how much we had saved, this is nothing.” Mario finished. 

Luigi chuckled and put the face shield onto Mario. “There.” Luigi said. “No going home with glass in your eyes.” Luigi let him know. 

“Thanks!” Mario said, chuckling at Luigi’s words. “You two ready?” He asked Luigi and Peach. 

Peach put on her face shield and smiled. “I think so.” Peach replied. “But how much time do we have to smash?” Peach asked. 

Luigi smiled. “An hour.” Luigi replied. 

“...That’s it?” Peach reacted. 

Mario laughed. “The sessions were in 30 minute intervals. And considering there were three of us, I figured 30 minutes wouldn’t be enough time.” Mario admitted. “An hour will feel a lot longer than it is. I promise.” Mario finished.  

Mario led the way, heading out of the locker rooms and walking to the room they would be smashing things in. After the employee explained the ground rules of the rage cage, they were sent in for the session. “The first 30 minutes starts…NOW.” The person clicked the timer before closing the door. 

Peach took a quick scan of the stuff that were in the room. There were several plates and glasses on the side table. There were also several different types of electronics on the ground and on black tables in the room. There were even a bunch of weapons leaning against the one wall. 

“Whoa…” Peach muttered. 

“Hey Mario!” Luigi said, picking up the baseball bat and gently throwing it vertically to Mario. “Batter up!” Luigi added. 

Mario grabbed the bat midair, and drew it back behind him. Luigi threw a plate over at his brother, and watched as Mario swung at the plate, smashing it to tiny pieces. “WOOOO!” Mario cheered, raising the baseball bat in the air with both his hands. 

“Nice one!” Luigi reacted. 

Peach walked up to the wall, which had several weapons hung up against it by nails on the wall. She wasn’t sure which one to choose at first…but then the sledgehammer caught her eye. She picked it up, and held it with both her hands with shock. “What is THIS?!” Peach asked with a big smile on her face. 

“It’s a sledgehammer.” Mario told her. “It’s like a hammer, but with a really long handle. You use two hands with it.” Mario added. 

Peach looked around at the items, unsure what to hit. “Hmm…” She mumbled. She looked at the boxy black thing that was on the ground, and knocked on the top of it with her knuckles. “What is this?” She asked. 

Mario smirked. “It’s a printer.” Mario told him. 

Peach drew back the sledgehammer.��

“Hold on!” Luigi yelled. 

Peach froze, before putting down the sledgehammer. “Yeah?” She asked. 

Luigi picked up the printer and put it on the table. He backed up, and smiled a bit. “I figured you wanted it higher up.” Luigi admitted. 

Peach nodded. “Thank you.” She replied with an innocent smile. And within a second, her innocent smile snapped into a face full of rage as she let out a war cry and absolutely unloaded the sledgehammer into the top of the printer!

Mario shielded his face with his hand, backing up a bit. “HOLY-” 

“RAAAAAH!” Peach smashed the sledgehammer into the top of the printer again! “COME ON!” Peach shouted, slamming the sledgehammer into the printer one more time and causing a huge dent in the middle top part of the printer. 

Luigi looked at Mario with growing fear on his face. 

Mario chuckled at Luigi’s face. “What? Are you picturing yourself as the printer?” Mario asked. 

Luigi bit his lip. If he wasn’t picturing it before, he certainly was now. 

A couple seconds later, Peach put down the sledgehammer somewhat gently before picking up the printer and throwing it against the wall! The printer busted against the wall, bouncing around before skidding across the floor. 

Then, Peach turned around, put her hands on her hips and smiled brightly, and almost innocently at the boys. “This is fun!” Peach reacted. 

Mario smiled with shock and amusement on his face. “Alright. Note to self: Don’t piss off the princess.” Mario joked. 

Peach tilted her head. “You didn’t know that before?” Peach teased. 

Mario put his hands up in arrest before handing Luigi the baseball bat. “Time to see what you’re made of, Lu.” Mario told him, grabbing a plate.

Luigi looked at the bat, and tapped it on the ground. “Are you sure about this?” Luigi asked, a little nervous. 

“You’ll be fine! It’s just like little league baseball…just with a large plate, instead of a tiny ball. Swing the bat when the plate gets close enough.” Mario told him. 

Luigi nodded and drew back the bat. When Mario threw the plate, Luigi swung at it, breaking the plate with the baseball bat midair and making glass shards explode within a 360 degree radius!  Luigi flinched and covered his head instinctively, while Mario laughed. “Wow! I see you’ve kept up your batting skills.” Mario reacted. 

Luigi looked at Mario with a smile, mixed with slight nervousness. “That was…nerve-wracking.” Luigi admitted. He held out his hand with a chuckle. “I’m shaking.” Luigi showed him with a giggle. 

“That’s good! That means the adrenaline is kicking in.” Mario told him. “And remember, you’re wearing safety equipment. You’re not gonna get hurt.” Mario told him. 

Luigi bit his lip, unsure. “I don’t know…” Luigi admitted. 

Mario picked up another plate. “Just give it another shot.” Mario offered, holding up the blue plate. 

Luigi let out a long breath before he hit the bat against his heels like a traditional batter. 

“Come on, Luigi!” Peach cheered. “You can do it!” 

Luigi chuckled a bit as he drew his bat back again and focused on the plate. When Mario threw the plate to him, Luigi squeezed his eyes shut and swung the bat. The bat destroyed the plate midair, breaking the plate into bigger-sized chunks. The bat also happened to knock the plate into the wall, where it smashed into even more tiny pieces! 

Luigi gasped. “WHOHOHOOA!” Luigi shouted. 

“WOOHOOOOO!” Peach cheered, clapping her hands with pride. 

“Now how was that?!” Mario asked. “Was that better?!” 

Luigi looked at Mario with the biggest, most energetic smile on his face. “That was AWESOME!” Luigi shouted, jumping up and throwing his fist into the air.

Mario laughed and patted Luigi’s shoulder. “I knew you’d enjoy it.” Mario replied. 

Peach looked at the other weapons, and grabbed a golf club. “I didn’t know a golf club counted as a weapon.” Peach admitted. 

“Wanna try it out?” Mario asked. 

Peach nodded and looked around at the other things that were in the room. She looked at the computer screen, and smirked. She drew the golf club back like a baseball bat. “FOOOORE!” She smashed the computer screen, causing a huge crack in the screen. 

Luigi chuckled and picked up a large wrench off the wall. “Hey Mario…” Luigi said with a big smirk. 

Mario gasped and took the wrench from Luigi’s hands. When Luigi backed up, Mario swung it around a bit, and wiped away a slight bit of dust from the wrench. “Oh HECK YES!” Mario yelled. He turned around and looked at the unplugged clock that was on the groundnearby. “Hey! Don’t like what time it is?” Mario asked, picking up the clock. He threw the clock in the air, readied his wrench and demolished the digital clock midair. “TIME IS AN ILLUSION!” Mario shouted, before crumbling into laughter. 

Peach bursted out in hysterical laughter. 

Mario picked up a big beer bottle. “Tired of your uncle drinking too much beer?!” Mario asked. He threw it against the wall, making it smash into tiny bits. “GO TO REHAB!” Mario shouted. 

Luigi wheezed and doubled over, laughing his head off. Then, he looked over at a small flip phone that was on the table. He picked it up. “Tired of those awful telemarketers?!” Luigi asked, before throwing it up and blasting his baseball bat into the flip phone. “GET A REAL JOB!” Luigi shouted. 

Mario wheezed and cackled super loudly. “Ohoho myhy gohohod! Buhut telemarketing IS a real job!” Mario reacted. 

“Not in my book.” Luigi shot back. 

Mario looked over at Peach with a smirk. “Does anything ever piss you off?” Mario asked. 

Peach smirked and picked up the sledgehammer again. “You ever feel proud of yourself because you’re in first place in a race? Only to get hit by a blue shell and knocked completely off the track?” Peach asked before drawing the sledgehammer back. “And then you just wanna go-” She smashed the sledgehammer into the top of an old-fashioned stereo. “AAAAAAAUGH!” Peach smashed the stereo one more time, for good measure. “DAMMIT!” Peach screamed as loud as he possibly could. 

Mario fell over and absolutely HOWLED with newfound laughter! “OHOHO MY GOD YEEEHEHEHESS!” Mario cackled. 

Luigi watched with growing fear on his face once again…accompanied by a nervous smile. “Wow…” was all Luigi could say at that point. 

“Okay. New challenge:” Mario picked up a couple plates. “What is the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?” Mario asked before handing them the plates. “Say the stupid thing, and then throw the plate.” Mario told Peach and Luigi. 

Luigi smirked. “Okay. You go first.” Luigi told Mario. 

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “Alright.” He readied himself and cleared his throat. “The earth is flat!” Mario said before smashing the plate against the wall. “IT IS CLEARLY NOT! THERE ARE MILLIONS OF PHOTOS DISPROVING THAT!” Mario shouted afterwards. 

Luigi laughed at his words before looking over at Peach. “You go next!” Luigi told her. 

Peach smirked. “Let’s rule the world together! Will you marry me?!” Peach threw the plate onto the floor. “I WILL NEVER MARRY YOU, BOWSER!” Peach screamed. 

Mario tittered and laughed. “Ohoho gosh! You tell ‘em!” Mario reacted. 

Luigi nodded and cleared his throat. “I don’t deserve love.” Luigi threw the plate at the wall. “THAT IS SO UNTRUE, IT SHOULD BE A GOD DAMN CRIME.” Luigi shouted. “YOU ARE LOVED, YOU ARE WORTHY, AND WHOEVER TELLS YOU OTHERWISE SHOULD DIE ALONE IN A PIT.” Luigi finished. 

The room went completely silent. It was so quiet, one could easily hear a pin drop. The only sound you could somewhat hear was Luigi’s heavy breathing. And even THAT was somewhat muffled by the shield. Peach and Mario were staring at Luigi, completely thrown off guard by Luigi’s unusually personal response. Mario stared at Luigi with awe. Everything in him was aching to say something. “I….” Was all that came out of his mouth. Even if Mario wanted to say something…what was he supposed to say? 

Luigi turned to look at Mario. “Sorry…was that too personal?” Luigi asked with slight worry on his face. 

Mario was taken aback. “No! No no no, it wasn’t. But…” Mario struggled to think. “That was just…not the answer I was expecting from you.” Mario admitted. 

Peach looked at Luigi with worry, before placing her gloved hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Peach asked. 

Luigi looked over at Peach, and nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Luigi said back. “Sorry to make it personal.” Luigi apologized. 

Mario shook his head. “No. I…think you had the best answer out of all of us.” Mario admitted. 

Luigi tilted his head. “Really?” 

Mario nodded. “Yeah! There are millions of people who still believe they don’t deserve love. And unfortunately, no matter how much they’re told otherwise, they still believe it.” Mario said. 

Luigi nodded. “Yup. I wish I could punch every person that told those people that they didn’t deserve love.” Luigi admitted. 

Mario sighed and chuckled dryly. “I know what you’re trying to say, but…” Mario shook his head. “That’s billions of people. And millions of assault charges against you.” Mario reminded him with an awkward laugh. 

Luigi chuckled. “Yeah…that’s true.” Luigi muttered. 

Mario picked up the baseball bat and handed it to Luigi. “How about we smash something I know has REALLY pissed you off.” Mario offered. 

Luigi looked at the bat, before looking at Mario. “What is it?” Luigi asked. 

Mario smiled and opened the door. “Be right back.” He told him before leaving. 

Luigi looked at Peach with confusion. But Peach looked equally as confused. They had no idea what Mario was going to bring into the room. But…knowing Mario, it was going to be something good. “Hey Luigi?” Peach called, picking up something off the wall and holding it in her hand. “Wanna break something with an iron skillet?” Peach asked, holding the skillet like it was nothing. 

Luigi giggled and nodded his head. He hung up the baseball bat before grabbing another skillet that was on the wall. With that in hand, he looked around for something else to smash. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Luigi to find something that was already partly smashed up, but still had more pain to go through: The printer from earlier. 

Luigi placed the printer back onto the table, and brought the skillet behind his head. “EAT PAN, PRINTER!” Luigi shouted as he destroyed the printer with the skillet. 

Peach cheered and waved her fists in the air. “DESTROY IT!” Peach shouted. 

Luigi swung the skillet down. “YAAAAAAH!” Luigi shouted as it made contact with the printer. He drew the skillet back one more time, let out a strong, rage-filled battle cry before completely flattening the rest of the printer with the side of the skillet. Luigi breathed somewhat heavily with a smirk as he dusted off the side of the skillet. “You just got Luigi’d.” He declared proudly. 

Peach wheezed and fell over, laughing her heart out. “WOHOHOW! Are there cameras in here?” Peach asked, looking around the room. She smiled brightly as she saw the tiny camera in the top right corner of the room. “Yes! There is!” Peach reacted, pointing to it. 

“Oh! I guess there are. Hello!” Luigi reacted, waving to the camera. 

“Mario’s gonna want to see your frying pan action on video.” Peach told him. “Do you think we can get that saved on a DVD?” Peach asked. 

A little beeping sound filled the room for a moment. “Sure! We can certainly do that! Better yet, we can put it onto a USB key so you can save it on a computer!” The voice of the employee told them through the speaker. 

“Awesome!” Peach reacted. “Cause Mario’s gonna regret missing out on seeing that.” Peach mentioned. 

Luigi chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah…” Luigi mumbled. 

Right on cue, Mario opened the door and closed it behind him. “Okay. I got it.” Mario said. He turned around and went to grab a table, when he noticed that the printer looked even more beat up than it was before. “Wait…” Mario looked at Luigi, who was hanging the skillet back up on the wall. “Did you do this, Luigi?” Mario asked. 

Luigi giggled. “Yeah, I did.” Luigi replied. 

“Aw man…” Mario reacted. 

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll have it on video for you after the hour is up.” The employee told them through the speaker. 

Mario smiled brightly. “Can’t wait to see it.” He added as he walked up to the table.

“Also, the typewriter will be added to your bill at the end.” The employee added. 

Luigi raised an eyebrow. “Typewriter? What-” Luigi widened his eyes as he saw the big, bulky black typewriter get placed onto the black table by Mario. “YOU DID NOT…” Luigi shouted with a growing grin on his face. 

Mario chuckled and swiped his hands free of the dust. “You remember how much those reports and essays pissed you off in high school?” Mario asked. “Especially when you made 1 little mistake, and had to redo the whole thing all over again?” Mario added. 

Luigi quickly removed the skillet off the wall again and looked at the typewriter with the most villainous, adrenaline-filled face Mario had ever seen on Luigi. 

“Count me down.” Luigi told them enthusiastically. 

Mario and Peach looked at each other with slight worry on their faces, before smiling nervously and doing as he said. “3…” Mario said, putting his hand into his pocket.

“2…” Peach said next, growing more excited. “1…” Mario said, clicking ‘record’ on his camera. 

“GO!” Peach shouted. 

Luigi let out the loudest, strongest, most rage-filled cry he could possibly muster as he threw the skillet down onto the typewriter. The typewriter keys smashed, the ribbon cover fell off, and the whole typewriter actually bounced up a couple inches post-impact. 

Mario had to cover his mouth to prevent from screeching with shock and excitement. 

And Luigi was far from done! He used every ounce of strength in himself to turn the stupid typewriter into a mess of broken parts. 

“AAAAAAAH!” 

<SMASH!> “STUPID!-” 

<CLANG!>

“PIECE!-” 

<CRUSH!>

“-OF CRAP!” Luigi shouted loudly, before unloading one more destructive smash onto the typewriter. The best part about the typewriter was how durable it was…meaning Luigi needed to put a lot of strength and dedication into its destruction. 

And boy, did he ever deliver! To the point where Mario was in awe! The man had NEVER, EVER seen Luigi so filled with bumbling rage! This was the type of rage that not even Jack Nicholson was capable of showing on screen! And here was his timid, emotional, younger brother…completely losing his shit against a typewriter with a goddamn iron skillet of all things! 

And the skillet wasn’t the only weapon he used. Luigi would switch out weapons occasionally, to get a new type of smash out of the experience. Every hit felt like a new revelation for Mario. Luigi was capable of much more anger than even he himself could ever show! It was INSANE! 

Meanwhile, Peach was having the time of her life, just watching Luigi unleash his years-long, pent-up anger! She was screaming, cheering, shouting and jumping around, losing her mind as she watched Luigi destroy this ‘typewriter’ thing. 

Several smashes later, and Luigi was dripping with sweat and almost wheezing amidst his heavy breathing. Mario almost felt bad seeing Luigi push himself beyond his limits. So, Mario stopped the recording and put the camera into his pocket, before taking the skillet from Luigi. “Here…” Mario brought Luigi to a chair and took off the shield for a moment. “Cool yourself off.” Mario told him. 

“This…” Luigi let out a long breath, before laughing breathlessly. “This was the best idea you have ever come up with.” Luigi told him. 

Mario smiled brightly upon hearing that. “Thank you, Luigi.” Mario told him. “Now take a big break. I’m gonna make sure I get some smashing in too.” Mario told him. 

Luigi tittered and said something under his breath. 

Mario paused for a moment, and turned to look at Luigi. “What did you say?” Mario asked. 

Luigi wheezed. “Ihi said ‘that’s what she said’.” Luigi declared. 

Mario widened his eyes in shock and guffawed, covering his mouth. “HAHAHA! Ohoho gohohod…Cohohome ohohon, Luigi!” Mario laughed. “Seheriously?!” Mario asked. 

“It made you laugh. You know it did.” Luigi reminded him. 

Mario sighed and pushed Luigi’s head and helmet away, before walking back to the destruction room. “Okay.” Mario picked up his trusty wrench, and smirked as he looked at the typewriter. “My turn.” Mario declared, before smashing the wrench into the typewriter. Mario would also end up picking up the glass cups that were nearby,  and making towers out of them. He would break the glasses a couple at a time with the wrench, before knocking the glass off the table. Break a few glasses, remove glass. Break a few more glasses, remove the glass. And after about 10 minutes, Luigi would join back and start destroying things all over again. Peach would end up putting the skillet to good use too. It ended up being the best ‘vacation’ they could’ve ever asked for. Who the heck needs Cuba, Hawaii or Paris, when you could have printers, glasses and typewriters to smash in your local Rage Cage?! 

Oh! And before you go, I wanted to let you know: The Rage Cage is a real place in Brooklyn, where you can smash and destroy things to your heart's desire! It's by appointment only and you can book 30 minute sessions based on how many people you're doing it with, and how much stuff you wanna break. Though this fanfic will not be entirely accurate, it still gives a general jist of what is involved in these rage rooms.

[technicalknockout]

PIGEON OC LORE DUMP PIGEON OC LORE DUMP ❗️❗️❗️❗️

*flaps excitedly* PIGEON OC LORE DUMP

warning long and incoherent with way too many elizabeths than required

Oh my god i realized there is no fricking way im explaining everything today theres so MUCH HDKKSJDKS i'll just explain the basic mythology and some of my favorite guys

Ok we need to start with the gods

Once upon a time there was nothing. One day Nothing decided it wanted to be something. It split itself into multiple parts and those parts became the first three gods. The part of Nothing that wanted to be something became Creator (cre) and the part that liked being Nothing became Red (ree. This is a placeholder name i really cant decide on a fitting name for red hdjsdkskd). Also there was this indecisive middle guy and their name is Astral (starry. Starry is important because they're the responsible sibling. They mostly do everything)

These are the Incompetent God Siblings. There are smaller gods who split from the siblings but theyre mostly irrelevant. Also the gods look like birds (actually it's the other way around, birds look like gods because the gods wanted to put something that looks like themselves in the mortal realm. Kind of like self insert ocs dhjskfkd) so i also call them Birbs

Anyway the thousands of new gods just hung around for some time in their newfound existance until cre decided this was boring. So the gods all decided to make some universes with stuff in it. Except ree who was against the whole 'existing' thing in the first place and was a grump about it, so the gods conpromised with ree and put a expiration date on the universe. Spoilers: this leads to some politic problems later on

So tada theres a universe now. Multiple universes. Parallel worlds are relevant later but that would make this post longer than an entire novel series so dropping that topic

Now onto the actual ocs dhjdkskfks

Domino aka Elizabeth the 3rd. (Some quick background lore, the elizabeths are guys who are trapped in an unending loop of reincarnation (courtesy of ree). They all have their own memories and personalities but share some core traits such as god obsession) Domino is part of the "villain squad" in the plot and a (pseudo)scientist who works at the shadow government. She's very cold and NOT interested in anything except for her (ethically questionable) experiments concerning angels and, unfortunately, the main characters. She was relatively fine until she got involved in some plot relevant scheme as a kid and almost died now shes Not Fine.. has two lab assistants Apel Pine (pineapple) and Stein Mango (mangosteen. Theyre 9 years old, twins and orphans, domino named them and yes she is canonically bad at names). Pineapple is traumatized and deprieved of affection, desperately seeking love from domino who is the only thing close to a parent figure he's ever had. Domino does not notice nor does she care.. which makes pineapple :(. He's aggressive to others and needs therapy. Unlike him though, mangosteen is very okay! Mostly because pineapple tried his very best to protect mango from the bad things in life. It worked and pineapple now has twice the trauma he was supposed to have, while mango has none. He turned out as a silly little guy who is oblivious to the horrors and he tries really really hard to make everyone get along. And he likes snow :D theres a short backstory behind pineapple and mango from before they were domino's assistants which explains why theyre Like That, which i will maybe perhaps talk about later

Also in a different universe theres a 12 year old menace called damo who wears a poncho thingie and claims to be the most evil villain in the whole universe (she isnt she has no idea what a villain is, she thinks theyre cool people who explode stuff). She likes bombs and doing disney villain laughs. She is the silly ever and nothing bad happens to her and i love her very very much