#his name is not typo btw

[bloomingkyras]

Let's take a memory photo in the BC house with Emarald Stone - Swift before Oasis Spring we go 🤭

@simsinfinitylt

*see them again in the next rotation with alot of time skip. bye for now ❤

[heph]

Think a little lower, Dr. Wilson

[comet-wire]

Last night I cried, and I mean UGLY cried at a foul hour because I love Albert Wesker and I hate it. (/Lh)

Like first off, the man's name is Albert??? Need I say more? But then, his name is kinda gothic when you say his full name. I don't know if that's just me. But just simply referring to him as Albert is goofy as fuck considering he's supposed to be a villain in RE. Not only that, he's got paper thin lips. How's he gonna get a kiss kiss??☝️🤨/ref

But it wasn't only that, mind you, it's also because this absolute FUCK, this evil David Bowie and Johnny bravo looking mother fucker, has consumed my life and every waking thought that sometimes it genuinely hurts and that's what I hate about being autistic. It's just how much I want to consume of something once it becomes a special interest and/or hyperfixation. On top of that, Wesker is a special case for me because I found out I technically trauma bonded to him as a comfort character. For the past year and a half now, I got back into RE because of the RE4R and began hyperfixating on said game then it spiraled into hyperfixating about the Wesker's storyline, with project W and so on. I already have a tendency to go back to RE periodically every like two or so years but this has low-key been probably the longest I've consistently fixated on RE without a single break in-between. My dad and I bonded over resident evil, he's one of the people who got me into RE, albeit he watched the movies and I got into the game's. Which means RE means a whole lot to me and since he passed my fixation on it only heightened as a source of comfort. I also found out when you have a comfort character during a horrible period in your life, you very well can trauma bond with said character. So that means out of all characters, I have trauma bonded to Albert Wesker and I am two seconds away from tweaking. 🤩

On top of that, every time @rainbowroadonsteroids sends me something remotely Wesker related I start punching my wall and they bully me for it smh./Lh+nm

Shout out to my favorite human nightlight, Albert Wesker. ☝️🗿

[kohakhearts]

the b-side to the satoshi-kun compilation video...except, "gou-kun" didn't get a rise out of him, so to establish dominance gary just pretended to forget his name instead - until he couldn't seem to STOP saying his name, anyway

[shady-tavern]

A Symphony of Song and Music

The music had started a fortnight ago, during one of the darkest nights of the autumn season so far. It hadn't been the songs and tunes of the fae, those you knew well and knew even better to avoid them. That was your job around here, after all, to keep monsters away from your village.

You lived in a small cottage right on the outskirts and you and one other person spent the entire day with ensuring warding plants grew well and no charms had broken. Two people were always chosen, usually those without families and spouses or children, to try and keep everyone safe of the monsters. 

The good part that you and the other warder were usually taken care of by the village in return and you could lead quiet lives away from the hubbub. As long as the two of you went around the village to warn them about impending monster issues, such as the howling of wolves on full moons and when you noticed traces of the fae or others in the woods, all was good.

Towns had more warders than villages, depending on how big they were, though such precautions sadly weren't always enough. You had heard of a maiden disappearing with a faerie knight, the faerie woman taking her during a pale dawn. Another village had lost their shepherd to a kelpie and a traveling merchant had been found torn to pieces on the road two months ago.

It wasn't always easy, but you and everyone else made do and so far you had done a good enough job. Of course there wasn't a way to keep every single creature away, but you knew how to make things unattractive, to ensure the air smelled of plants that they hated. 

Sometimes the villagers gathered, rattling pots and pans and screaming in an impressive threat display to chase of smaller, skittering things that still dared to creep close.

The music, however, the one you heard nearly every night, with exceptions to full moons and when the fae were riding in the mortal world, felt different. It wasn't magical at all, didn't cloud the mind and fuzzy the senses. If anything, it had sounded sad and melancholic at first. 

So sad in fact, that one night you had sung back at it. The music had stopped briefly, before continuing in a cautious but more upbeat tune. It had become a ritual since then, once the villagers had fallen asleep, you would step outside, keeping a coat wrapped around you against the growing cold of late autumn and you sang back. 

Sometimes the tunes were cheerful, more jigs than anything else. Other times they were slower and sweeter, songs you would sing with your fellow neighbors around fires and during festivals. You made sure to sing loud enough that you could be heard and the sound seemed to travel well enough.

You had no idea what exactly was playing out there, only that whatever monster it was, you never saw hide nor hair of it. It seemed more than content to have someone to make music with. Even if you might not have the best singing voice, you were passionate and often made up songs on the spot, some funny and silly and others heartfelt.

You had no intentions of seeking the monster out who played so beautifully, you weren't quite so foolish. Even if they didn't mean you any harm, there were other creatures in forests as big and old as the one bordering your village. 

Your neighbors had, so far, no idea of what you were doing. Your cottage wasn't right beside the other houses, mostly so you could cultivate protective plants properly, and the other villagers hadn't heard the music playing, so if they did hear you sing, they simply thought it an adorable oddity of your person.

People generally tried to stay away from the forest, unless they needed wood or mushrooms and wild berries. Autumn was often your busiest month, creating protective necklaces and filling pouches with herbs and others with salt and iron. Just in case. So far, everyone had come back again.

Until the baker's son didn't at the very end of autmn, straddling the beginning winter. The children had played hide-and-seek at the edge of the village and he had decided to hide among the shrubbery. No one could find him, no matter how everyone searched. The hunter, however, found a trail leading away from home.

The choice, now, was to give up and consider the boy dead, or a group went deeper into the forest, where it was darker and the air felt different, to keep looking. You volunteered to come along after a moment of nervously wringing your hands. You were the one who knew the most about monsters and how to keep them away. That was your whole job after all, even if you personally hadn't actually met a monster face to face before.

So after making sure everyone was as prepared as possible, with an entire satchel filled with warding materials in tow, you stepped past the part of forest the villagers had cultivated for themselves.

You had never quite considered just how creepy the woods could be, beyond the few moments when you wondered what else was out there. What some of the noises you could hear riding on the wind could mean. It was far colder here, where the sun barely fell through the thick canopy and the cold air was saturated with the scent of trees, damp earth and moss. And it was very quiet.

The hunter led the charge and everyone else nervously clutched whatever weaponry they had been able to gather, axes and pitchforks and one even had a slightly rusty, plain dagger, as long as your entire forearm. 

"Shouldn't it be louder?" One of the farmer's whispered nervously. "I mean, shouldn't we hear birds or insects or something?"

"Not when bloodthirsty monsters are around," the hunter answered quietly, her voice grim. You kept glancing around nervously, fingers tight on the flap of your satchel, ready to reach in and pull out whatever could help you.

You were reasonably sure that the werewolf pack lived a little further west and if it had been faeries, you wouldn't have found a track to follow in the first place. That left a plethora of other creatures, however.

The stillness around you suddenly felt like it was holding its breath and all the hairs on your body felt like they were standing straight between one second and the next, a cold sensation dripping down your spine like melting ice.

You barely had the time to open your mouth, before leaves rustled and branches creaked and monsters descended. You had half a second to realize that those creatures, reaching as far up as your elbow, were goblins, before people screamed. Goblins were slim and with massive yellow eyes and sharp, sharp teeth. 

They were armed and worst of all, while you could see the boy being held by another up in the trees, they had no weakness you could take advantage off. Iron didn't burn them, elderberries didn't twist their senses and salt didn't make it impossible for them to come close.

Fighting was all you could do, your heart pounding hard and fear had risen to settle around your throat like a too tight necklace. The cold of the air suddenly felt like a chill from the depth of winter itself.

As you stumbled back to duck behind the hunter, since you had only a kitchen knife to protect yourself with, you frantically wondered just why goblins were here. They usually lived in the caves and since the forest and hills were big and old enough to offer plenty of food and crystals, they didn't attack villages.

Your group was forced to break up, especially when one of the goblins shook the boy with a screeching giggle and the boy cried. His father, who had been to your left nearly the entire time, ran for him while ignoring the hunter's call, followed by two friends and suddenly things were far, far more dangerous for you and everyone else.

"Get back!" the hunter shouted and shoved you out of the way of a jabbing spear. You had no idea how to actually fight, but you could toss things from your satchel at them, distracting the goblins with a fist full of salt, which actually landed in the eyes of one, who howled and wailed horribly.

The rest, however, were now livid. Fumbling to reach into your bag to grab more salt, you began to pelt the goblins with the panicked hope to both distract and keep them at bay long enough that the farmer could finally get his boy back. Those who had brought pitchforks were definitely at an advantage now.

Two more goblins were quick to join and you were forced to back up quick, now also tossing your other prepared warding tools and pouches. Their skin didn't get hurt by nails, but they still didn't like getting pelted by them. Before you realized it, they had thoroughly separated you from the group and this time, when you reached into the bag, your hands found nothing but a few stray salt grains.

There was no way you'd manage to win with your kitchen knife. Not when you had never used it for anything but chopping vegetables.

The goblins paused and when they realized no more things came flying at them, they grinned, wide and toothy and nightmarish. When they jumped forward, all you could do was run.

Nearly stumbling over a root, you raced off into the forest, your heartbeat rushing in your ears and your body felt suddenly both too flight-light and fear-shaky. The goblins called out and then you heard them follow, feet thundering across the forest floor. 

You ran as fast as you could, leaping over fallen branches, tearing through thorn bushes without stopping, barely feeling the sting and scratch along your skin, the tears left in your clothes.

Rationally, you knew that you shouldn't let yourself get separated from your companions. Rationally, theoretically, you knew quite a lot about how to battle monsters, how to twist your body to avoid being stabbed fatally and a number of other things.

Reality was it's own kind of beast and you were not prepared for it. Not at all.

Your breathing was so hard it felt like it was stinging your lungs and throat, eyes glancing around in a panic as you tried to figure out where to run, where to be safe.

You only realized that the goblins had chased you to one of the hills closest to the village when suddenly there was the opening of a massive cave in front of you, silvery spider webs the size of houses spanning between trees larger and older than you had ever seen before.

Stumbling over a rock and crashing against the stone, your knee open and bleeding now, you scrambled to turn around. The goblins, however, were slow and wary now, chattering back and forth before quickly advancing on you. But where they had been nasty and triumphant before, now they carried an air of urgency. This wasn't a chase anymore, but it would be a quick death.

Right up until you sensed a new presence behind you, emerging from the cave entrance and the goblins all froze. You had never seen a monster pale before, but they suddenly looked ready to faint, their hands starting to tremble hard enough that their weapons rattled a bit.

You didn't want to turn around. By the way all five goblins were focused on something above and behind you, a single fixed point, the monster was big. Far bigger than you and so far it had been utterly silent.

The goblins were rambling now, a language you didn't understand as they backed away, looking terrified and nearly scraping the floor they bowed so low. Your heart was racing so hard you felt your pulse pound in your throat, your legs and arms trembling so hard you didn't know if you could stand up again, your body feeling frozen in place.

You didn't want to turn around and face whatever was there. You didn't want to see what had scared goblins so badly they had run without even trying to fight or trying to bargain to at least kill you.

All you heard was your fast breathing, until finally you could make yourself move, feeling like a creaking, rusty hinge as you turned your head to look back. Nothing was there.

Blinking, you shifted to glance around more, but you couldn't see anything, not outside at least. Nothing large trying to hide among the tree tops, no massive footprints leading anywhere. 

Now that panic wasn't trying to gobble up your mind to leave nothing but feral survival instincts behind, you noticed that the cave entrance showed signs to once have belonged to goblins. There was scratchy writing along one outside wall and the remains of what must have been robust, simple huts and buildings along the outside.

Blinking, you suddenly knew why the goblins had acted so unusually. Something had chased them away. It couldn't have been recently either, considering how destroyed and largely removed the remains of the goblin settlement were. You would guess it had been a few weeks since something else had claimed this cave.

Something that, utterly unexpectedly, hadn't killed you. Getting up and limping slightly at the pain in your knee, you slowly backed away, unwilling to strain whatever goodwill ensured your heart remained beating.

"Thank you," you still said, voice a little shaky, because you were grateful and you didn't want to be rude to your invisible savior.

You had no idea how far the goblins had gone, so you warily and with a small limp walked on, clutching your empty satchel like a useless lifeline. You met no monster, to your relief and when you managed to find your way back to the frazzled group of your neighbors, you were glad to see they had gotten the boy back.

They were just as glad to see you return largely unharmed, though in all fairness, your bleeding scratches and bloody, now swollen knee had been a byproduct of your escape. The goblins actually hadn't directly harmed you, thankfully.

Wary and hurriedly you returned back home, where the boy's mother and sister greeted them with cries and tears. You limped back home to treat yourself and sit down.

Even with how glad you were that all had gone well, there remained a subtle tremble in your limbs for hours.

That night you heard the music again, but the tune was entirely new. It was so very soft and had a questioning note to it. At least, you thought so. You only sang a little that night, preferring to just listen and let the music calm you further. You were almost asleep at the end, sitting wrapped in a cozy blanket out on your little porch, leaning against the wall, your eyes slipping closed.

As you went to bed, you decided that you absolutely needed to get better at your job. It didn't feel like enough anymore to just ward off what monsters you comfortably could. Especially when something huge and obviously frightening had unseated an entire goblin settlement so thoroughly they were still terrified of it.

.*.*.

Life returned to normal after that incident. Well, mostly. People were more wary, warning neighboring villages that the goblins might cause more trouble and keeping a closer eye on their children. As snow began to fall outside a mere two days after the goblins kidnapped the boy, you were busy looking through all your notes and the notes of previous warders to see if there was more you could do. 

Slowly however, as snow began to cover the ground thickly and nothing more happened in passing days and weeks, the frantic restlessness and urgency in you calmed a little. 

Winter was always the quietest season, some monsters hibernated and others stayed firmly in their territories to defend them from any roaming creatures. Others again were busy with survival and as long as no village was too close to their territory, they usually didn't bother to attack. 

Of course there were a few incredibly smart ones which knew exactly how hard it was for humans to properly fight back or hunt in deep snow and used that to their advantage.

The music stopped as well, though you kept a window cracked most evenings, allowing a bit of chill to seep inside so you could keep an ear out. Sometimes you still sang, because you had gotten used to it so much and because you really enjoyed it. Even if you missed the music, you still had fun.

As soon as spring arrived and snow began to melt, the music was back. Slow at first, as if its master was still a bit sluggish, but you found yourself smiling widely.

You had missed the music more than you had expected and once or twice you even fell asleep to it, snuggled into your bed with the window wide open. After a particularly passionate song that left you breathless and grinning so wide your cheeks hurt and that got you complaints from neighbors, you truly wanted to know who your mystery musician was.

Previously the knowledge that it must've been some kind of monster to live and survive in the forest had made you too cautious to even consider the idea. But now that the music had brought you so much joy and it felt like someone was waiting for you every night, you wanted to give something back.

The next time, after the music started along with the moon rising above the tree line, you sang once again. At the end of your last song, you added a little line that you would leave a gift and you placed the parcel against a tree, marking it with the first tiny flowers from your garden.

It was gone the next morning and instead a purple crystal the size of your palm was left behind. It was beautiful and someone had clearly taken care to polish it a little and smooth some of the rough edges.

The next night you left freshly baked bread and jam and in return the mystery musician left a necklace, a piece of turquoise hanging from a simple leather cord. You put it on immediately and went through the day with a smile.

It became a sort of ritual after that. You didn't leave gifts for each other every night, but sometimes you woke up to a gift waiting at your tree and sometimes you left something. You never expected to be given something in return, but it still made you happy. It felt like, whoever was out there, enjoyed your time together as much as you did.

And, if you were being honest, someone who might care as much about you as you started to care about the musician.

As spring progressed, you left more flowers and one morning you were delighted to see that the musician had woven them into a flower crown and left them at your gate post. Of course, once you wore it, people began to talk. They had started to wonder at the trinkets you gained overnight, but now that you wore flowers it seemed something had been confirmed in their minds.

"Is someone courting you?" the miller asked with a big grin and you drew up short. Was this courting? Or just friendly appreciation? Did you want to be courted?

Murmuring a platitude, you returned back home and took stock of all the pretty and lovely things you had been given. Many were thoughtful as well and it showed clearly that the musician had paid close attention to what you had been singing, especially the songs you had made up.

Even the flower crown was part of it, you realized. It wasn't just a sweet gesture, but last night you had been gripped by a bit of yearning and had sung about a sweet love gifting you with a crown of spring and dancing below the moonlight.

You could lie in wait for the monster, they definitely knew who you were after all. But...it felt cheap and unfair.

You mulled over things for a few days and decided that, yes, you'd like to meet the monster. So you left a note with your next gift and more flowers. When you woke up, another flower crown made of your flowers was waiting for you, though nothing else.

You felt a little disappointed, but only for a moment. The monster might need just as much time to think about it as you did. Or maybe it didn't wish to meet, maybe it wanted to keep things as they were. You'd be happy to continue like you were and you were willing to hold back your curiosity for, well, it felt like you had made a friend. You'd respect your friend's decision.

You got your answer a few days later, scribbled in a slightly scrawly hand on the back of your note.

'I am rather frightening', the note began. 'But if you wish to meet, I will see you and if you never wish to hear from me again, I will respect that choice.'

You were determined to not let their looks sway your opinion. No matter how monstrous or strange they might be to you, someone who played so wonderfully, someone how so often played for you couldn't have a bad heart. And that was what truly mattered at the end of the day.

So you left another note, telling the monster you'd meet it at the pond near the village. It was far enough in the forest to ensure no one would see you and yet close enough that you didn't feel too worried about other monsters. Well, not quite. You were still nervous whenever you thought about the goblins and how defenseless you had realized you really were after that attack.

You waited patiently, at one point sitting down on a fallen tree, right up until you heard rustling behind you. The sort of sudden rustling that felt very deliberate.

"Maybe don't turn around yet," a melodic voice spoke up, softer and more hesitant than you had expected. He sounded nice, nearly as lovely as his music. "It's nice to properly meet you. I hope you're doing well?"

You only realized you had started to grin wide when you opened your mouth to answer, "Yes, I am. I'm so glad you agreed to meet. Your music is beautiful."

"Thank you." He sounded like he was smiling, a note of genuine joy threading through his voice. "I love your singing. You're so creative and so fun, I love coming up with new music for you to sing to."

You couldn't help yourself, you gripped the tree and leaned back far enough to look at him, your head tipped back. The view was rather upside-down, to be fair, but even like this you could see that he was big. Big and leaning against a tree, his many legs tucked close to be comfortable.

His lower spider half was the size of a draft horse, fuzzy and kind of sandy-gray. His skin was much the same color and his eyes were dark, his long hair moon-white. He looked startled, jerking back a bit and ducking his head as though to hide his many eyes and fangs and curling further into himself.

He was frightening, true, but your heart was still soaring from his lovely compliment and so you grinned wide.

"Thank you. Your music is so beautiful, I couldn't help myself. I love listening to you play." Your grin gentled to a little smile. "I hope you didn't mind me joining in. You just, well, you kind of sounded really sad."

He peeked at you, blinking and there was a baffled, cautiously hopeful expression on his face. "I was very lonely," he answered after a moment. "So it made me really happy to hear a voice answer."

Straightening and swinging around on the log to look at him properly, you gestured for him to sit with you. Or, well, sit if he could. He approached very slowly and you saw the conscious effort on his part to look smaller. He settled down a respectful distance from you.

"What made you want to play?" you asked and with that question you managed to slowly ease him out of his carefulness. 

By the time you parted ways, he stopped looking like he was walking on eggshells around you, ready to retreat at the drop of a hat. And, yeah, he was scary, you could easily admit that, but he was also fun and as sweet and charming as his songs once he relaxed enough to talk freely.

You looked forward to meeting him again.

.*.*.

You met more and more frequently as spring warmed and turned it's flowering blossoms towards summer. Sometimes he visited you after playing music and you met him by the forest, making sure he didn't have to approach the village if he didn't wish to.

You honestly had no idea how your neighbors would react to you being friends with a drider, but not every monster was horrible and they weren't quite so narrow minded as to mindlessly throw hate around.

You exchanged gifts in person now and you were delighted to see him grow flustered and flattered in equal measure. The smile he gave you in return was the sweetest, softest thing, even with his fangs.

"Thank you," he said, his fingertips brushing yours ever so slightly as he accepted the gift, holding it close to his chest as though it was precious.

It was this moment that you realized, oh, you had absolutely fallen in love, hadn't you?

"I, um, I thought of something," he said, fiddling with your gift, which was a satchel you had made yourself and maybe the carvings and decorations on the leather wasn't as perfect as from a professional, but you still liked how it had turned out. "Can I pick you up tomorrow?"

"Of course." You were incredibly curious now. "I look forward to it."

He perked up at your words and you noticed the way he shuffled a little closer, now far less reserved than in the beginning. You had to admit that your hindbrain still startled for a moment when he skittered towards you at top speed when he was excited to see you, but you were too happy to see him be himself than ever let it bother you.

You parted ways and you waited rather impatiently for the next day. You still took your work seriously and ensured everyone was as safe as they could be in the world you lived in, but you regretfully declined an invitation to eat at the tavern. Instead, you waited until no one was watching and slipped away into the woods.

Your drider friend was waiting for you by the pond, looking equally nervous and hopeful-excited.

"This way," he said and you followed him. It didn't even occur to you to be worried and while there was a brief moment of concern about other monsters, knowing you weren't alone settled your nerves near immediately.

"I've been working on this for a while now," he said while leading you through the forest, weaving effortlessly around trees, occasionally using them to lever himself across shrubbery. 

The moment he realized you had a harder time following through the underbrush, he hesitated. "Um, if you'd like, I could help you?" He held out his hands in offer.

Curious and grateful and maybe your treacherous, enamored heart leapt at the idea of being closer, you accepted. The moment you reached back, you found yourself lifted effortlessly and deposited on his lower half. You genuinely had no idea what the specific term for his parts were, but the fuzz was really soft and he twisted his upper body enough to peer back at you.

"Alright?" he asked, soft and hopeful and you reached out to pat his arm.

"I'm perfectly fine."

He smiled, sweet and relieved and when he walked on, he didn't have to slow down for your short human legs to keep up. You could freely admit that it was genuinely quite fun. He was fast and swift and you arrived in no time flat.

To your baffled surprise, he stopped in front of the very cave the goblins had once chased you to.

"I live here," he said, crouching down to make it easy for you to slide down. "I promise it's more comfortable than it looks."

"Wait," you said, reaching out thoughtlessly to grab one of his legs. He stopped immediately, looking back at you questioningly and with a hint of concern. "Last autumn, when goblins chased me here..."

"Oh." His brows furrowed and for the first time he actually looked more monstrous, as anger made him bare his fangs. "You don't have to worry about the goblins anymore, I chased them entirely out of this area." He anger slipped away again as easily as water as he glanced back at you. "I hope you didn't get hurt that day?"

"You saved my life," you answered and gestured for him to come towards you. Curious, his head tilted slightly to the side, he bent down and stilled entirely when you threw your arms around him. "Thank you."

"Oh. Of course." Slowly, almost hesitantly, his arms came up to wrap around you in return. "I'm glad I could help. I should have known they'd cause trouble when they lost the territory fight to me."

You let go after a moment and, feeling brave and glad that the monster from back then had been him all along, you took his hand. On second thought, considering the mass of spider webs, you should have guessed as much.

"So, what did you want to show me?" you asked and your heart leapt with joy when his fingers curled around yours in return. He was always just a little cooler than you, unless he spent enough time in the sun to warm up.

Taking you into the cave, you realized that it was indeed cozier than expected. For one, it was dry inside and sunlight fell through one hole in the back and onto the biggest spider web you had ever seen. There were more holes overall so the place was brighter than expected. There was a next of furs and carved shelves filled with trinkets and things. There was even a mural painted on one wall, showing birds surrounding a griffon in flight.

"It's beautiful," you said and he straightened a bit, looking proud.

"Thank you. Though this wasn't what I wanted to show you." He swiftly clambered up the walls to the thick strands that connected the walls above. "I hope you like it."

When he began to pluck at the strands, you understood how he made his music. It echoed a little within the space, explaining how it had been loud enough for you to hear. Awed, you watched as he played, moving in a sort of dance to reach and pluck and weave his music as swiftly and surely as he must've woven his webs.

You slowly sat down on a nearby, fur covered rock and stared up, your heart beating faster. It was a melody you had never heard from him before, luring and light and utterly enchanting. If you hadn't been in love before, you would have fallen in love right now.

When he finished with a last tune and a flourish, you felt stunned and your heart was nearly aching with how full it felt and you jumped to your feet, clapping and hooting and grinning wide.

His answering grin was just as wide as he skittered back down, dark eyes bright and his hands found yours as soon as you reached out to him.

"This is your song," he said, soft and nearly quiet in the large cavern, the last tune having faded already. "I wanted to have more to offer than words. My dear, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you?"

"No need for that," you answered. "I already fell in love with you."

The smile you got in return was bright and downright boyish in its joy. "I love you too," he answered, fast and so happy a laugh laced into his voice. "I'll still court you, because you deserve it. Because I want to show you how much I love you."

You gave his hands a squeeze. "Then let me do it as well, this goes both ways."

"Yes." He leaned forward, only to catch himself. "May I kiss you?"

"Oh, absolutely." And you reached up to cup his cheek as he bent down towards you.

His kiss was as sweet as his heart, as captivating as his music and as lovely as what you shared.

[voxblade]

I can't believe you're tagging my Silas Birchtree posts as Zim omg that's really funny thanks

Who the fuck is Silas birch tree?? :d

[bluejaybytes]

My wonderful sons El Wiwi, Choking Hazard, and Juandice Nottwo

[dancesword]

NEITH APHRODESIA & SLIVER. water genasi draconic sorcerer & tiefling phantom rogue.

[saintslewis]

𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀’𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— social media au.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x dallas cowboy cheerleader!reader

summary: stars will always find a way to align to each other

warnings: social media environment, reader’s a bit of a southern belle. typos (maybe?)

saint’s team radio 🪩: i have a serious hyper fixation on the dallas cowboy cheerleaders so you know i had to do it 😝okay enjoy, mwah! tags are down below! 🫶🏽 i have two other things to release this week so watch out! 😚

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yourusername no, you! 🥹

victoriakelina the whole race weekend, it’ll be so fun

yourusername girl, you know damn well we can’t do all that 😭

user i so badly wanna be a dallas cowboy cheerleader

user the prettiest southern belle ever

yourusername oh, bless your heart 🥹

yourusername

liked by ddcheerleaders, camilaturdi and 7,838 others

yourusername what a game, y’all! congrats to the broncos and now onto COTA for F1 <3

view comments

kelcey_w the hair!!! you keeping it for COTA? 🤨

yourusername oh absolutely, kels

user would you perhaps be interested in the part team owner of the broncos?

yourusername and who would that be? 🧍🏽‍♀️

user his name is lewis hamilton 🧍🏽‍♀️

ddcheerleaders ⭐️🤍!

victoriakelina now what is a teamLH and why are they camping under this post?

yourusername i’m as confused as you are, my sister 😣

user she’s gorgeous!

ddcheerleaders

liked by f1, lewishamilton and 374,922 others

ddcheerleaders our lovely stars absolutely shined for the Austin Grand Prix and a huge thank you to y/n for the wonderful choreography! ⭐️🤍 @/yourusername

view comments

user oh no he discovered y/n, i fear she is gone

user of COURSE he’s gonna be in the likes when this mf doesn’t follow anyone

user i just know he felt y/n’s aura from the garage

user PLS 😭

f1 always delighted to host these amazing girls!

user i’m obsessed with y/n and I’ve only known her for a few hours

yourusername ⭐️🤍!

lewishamilton you did absolutely amazing today! 🥳

yourusername so you’re the broncos owner?

lewishamilton yes? 🧍🏽‍♂️

yourusername inch resting. thank youuu and you’re cute btw.

user NOT Y/N KNOWING HIM AS THE BRONCOS OWNER???

user THEN SHE SAID HE WAS CUTE? MY QUEEN

user i fear we will be seeing a new wag on the paddock

lewishamilton

liked by 13thwitness, fencer and 1,838,537 others

lewishamilton all about the fire for me

view all comments

mercedesamgf1 exactly!!

user dare i say the dallas cowboy cheerleader performance was a lucky charm?

user don’t be delusional 😭

user right? god forbid he interacts with someone 😭

ddcheerleaders the 44 clubs is where it’s at! ⭐️

yourusername you’re cool or wtv, broncos owner

lewishamilton thank you, ma’am

yourusername can’t wait to watch the race tomorrow!

lewishamilton you were in the 44 club right?

yourusername no?

lewishamilton now you are

user get you a nfl team owner who will put you in his very own paddock club suite 😣

user what a way to flirt, lewis

user we just watched this man bag y/n in real time 😭

yourusername

liked by katpurr, roscoelovescoco and 263,836 others

yourusername the world is your oyster, drain a man’s bank account today!

view comments

user now how tf did you get this man to buy you these? 😭

yourusername i called him baby as a southern girl usually calls anybody within a ten mile radius and he was crumbling

user THIS IS PEAK COMEDY 😭😭

fencer i need you to teach me that jump split immediately

yourusername i fear it would kill you

fencer aw dang it 😔

user btw, teamLH absolutely loves you

yourusername i love you guys too! (i’m utterly confused)

ddcheerleaders a star with a star! ⭐️

user one thing about this man, he will bag anyone the internet finds attractive

user he done pissed me off with this one 😭

lewishamilton 🤍🤍

yourusername come back to the room, i need you to tie my bikini

lewishamilton yes ma’am

user he is WHIPPED

user universe, if you’re listening, guide a man like lewis to me RIGHT NOW

saint’s notes: not only am i painfully south african, i also wrote this in 45 minutes lol. if you’re southern, i am sorry if i got stuff wrong about you guys! hope you enjoyed 😚

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @motheroffae @exotic-iris13 @greedyjudge2 @purplelewlew @serpenttines @httpsserene @non-stop-imagines @yeea-nah @emjayewrites @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen

[theseance444]

After begging the bride to be to get down off the table, Klaus realized very quickly that this was going to be a harder job than he was hoping. Despite success this time, he'd never any sort of spine, nor the conviction to care much about keeping the peace. In fact, he knew he attracted attention, and therefore trouble. But Jo didn't need to know that until it happened, at least.

"Ah, alright, fair enough," he said good-naturedly as she called him out. The flask slipped out of his pocket, and poured gracelessly into the glasses. Still mostly full, he noted, for later in the night. But before he could take his shot, Klaus was practically swung at, knocking him against the bar briefly.

"Hey Max," he groaned, forcing a smile on once again. The conversation, however, caught his attention. "Wait, yes I do! I love magic tricks!"

As he watched, a flame blew across the glass, like a dragon with erectile dysfunction. Eyebrows raised in surprise, Klaus could only come to one conclusion: she was family.

"Aw shit, of course..." Knowing he'd need it to deal with whatever world ending shit this might turn into, he knocked his shot back quickly.

"October 1st, 1989, right? Your birthday?"

As soon as the gun came out, Klaus's easygoing smile fell. Despite--or maybe because of--his time in Vietnam, he'd never liked guns. Destructive, life ruining, gone in an instant type weapons. Of course, he'd always been a lover, not a fighter.

"Emergencies, got it," he said, raising his tattooed palms in a way that meant he'd rather swallow glass.

As Jo lead him around, Klaus couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky. He held the key tightly in his hand, a lifeline to a private, locking room. And most importantly, not filled with ghosts. Or at least, not as many as his childhood bedroom.

"Don't lose it, got it," he repeated back, hooking the key onto his dog tags. How he'd gotten so lucky in his choice of wrong numbers, he'd never know. "I'll crash for an hour, then I'll take you up on that beer."

.

A private room, even if it was just a cot and a bedside table, felt like heaven after spending the last few hours in the drunk tank.

"She seems nice."

"You just lectured me about this being a trap, Benny boy, you gotta pick a side," Klaus responded, flopping onto the bed unceremoniously. "Wake me up in an hour, will you?"

.

As per Jo's rules, Klaus did not snort or smoke anything, not technically. But dry swallowing a few stimulants certainly put the pep back in his step. Waking up semi-sober in an unfamiliar place was not new to him, but it certainly threw him off to see the shadows start moving. That was the first sign, the ghosts were coming back. The first sign that he needed a drink.

Emerging from his beauty rest looking supremely hungover, Klaus found his way out to the bar again. Jo seemed busy with other customers, so he simply snuck around to refill his hip flask. Once it was heavy in his back pocket again, he approached with a smile.

"Alrighty Jo, who am I kicking out?"

[aamircoeur]

NOT GONNA LIE i always love thinking ab characterxdresser!lover

like ex ken sato and the person (secret lover) that makes his outfits, does his makeup, usually dresses him for every public outing etc etc

ALSO MAYBE THE LOVER HAS DESIGNED ALL HIS JERSEYS like they design the jerseys for every team he has

- 🍃 (hi im new)

Being ex-lovers with Ken Sato as his personal stylist ー hcs.

hi 🍃 baby happy to have ü here <3 thank you sm 4 the req!!!!!! ur asks r so so cute

sfw, gn!reader. UNEDITED

despite ken sato being your actual lover from the past, you had too much on your plate to give another try at your relationship

but he didn't

this time, instead of asking mina for his schedule, he memorizes it himself so he knows when he has the chance to text you

"hey baby you got my fit ready for the interview?"

"sorry typo i meant [name]" 🤨

"yes, ken"

"heyy so i was wondering, coach shimura asked the team if we could design a new jersey for the upcoming season so i thought if you could be the one to design for us?"

"hello, ken. i'm afraid i am busy having to prepare your outfits for your upcoming interviews."

"oh okay okay no worries"

"but like if i pay you extra will you be able to do it? like a thousand? or, i can add more"

"fine, ken. we can hold a meeting with your team for their fabric preferences and whatnot."

"what they don't need to be there"

he's not slick .

he never forgets to thank you every time that he's given the opportunity

he leaves you gifts like mini cakes or your favourite coffee to share with him when you were together

whenever you come to dress him up or to drop off his outfit for the day he'd have flowers at hand to give to you when you arrive

although greatly appreciated, you told him multiple times that it was unnecessary considering your relationship now was professional

he insists, saying that he does it for everyone he knows even coach shimura

🤨🤨 little liar

whenever he goes on vacation he always invites you

of course you decline

but he's so pushy and basically drowns you with his reasons

"ik we both need it"

"they have a great sense of style there we can get inspo from them"

"the food there is great maybe we can get outfit inspirations"

"the view from the hotel there is great maybe the hotel staff dress nicely too maybe we can get outfit inspirations from them"

what the hell r those reasons kenji

with enough convincing you come, with you insisting on staying in separate rooms but hey at least you're there with him

he always brags about how great of a stylist you are during interviews or press conferences

praises your creativity, your knowledge in color theory and body shapes that you always make him look so great

he's been told so much about how greatly his outfits complimented his body and he's so proud of you

but he almost killed everyone in the room including himself when you told him that other celebrities have reached out to have you as their personal stylist

he tried to convince you to stay as only his instead

i mean by convince is doubling your salary

which works btw

oh and during events he always has you as his +1

and if +1s weren't allowed he would simply not attend no matter how great attending at that event would be for his career && fame

"who cares" - ken2k24

he keeps you by his side and introduces you to all the people that he knows

which really confuses you because he told you that you were there for his touch-ups

but you didn't mind anymore

you missed spending time with him too.

[saeshualatte]

894 words ↬ drabble (?) ↬ scara x fem!reader

warning(s): edging, forced orgasms, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, fingering, mirror sex, vibrator stimulation, praise, degradation, pet names

a/n: omg this is so bad and it took me so long to finish & publish 😓 btw this is dedicated for my bestie @aspinyyy :P

not proofread!!! watch out for typos, grammatical errors and overused words, English isn't my mother tongue /*gen

(might be cringey 😬)

*smut under the cut*

how long has it been, a few minutes? hours maybe? you've lost track of time

you knew better than let your mouth ran but you did it anyway, that led you here; thighs quivering, eyes glossed with tears, and silk panties clinging to your core

"hmm, out of it already?" he hums, before pressing the vibrator harder

minutes in yet scara still hasn't taken off your panties, he's been edging you since. the scene is quite erotic and he loves it. he felt you tense up, a telltale you're close on the edge, so he ripped the vibrator away

"p-please let me....let me c..cum" you panted breathlessly after experiencing an intense pleasure just for it to be ripped away once again

"do you deserve it?" he cooed condescendingly, ".... y-yes" you plead, nearly close to tears on how long he's been throwing you on edge

"you're being quite a brat earlier, i don't think so" as he once again pressed the vibrator at your sensitive bud, making you jolt and instinctively close your legs

"uh uh, don't run away, my love" he coaxed, prying your legs open "you brought this upon yourself by being a whore, now you must take it like a good one"

"now be my good girl and look at yourself in the mirror" you lift your head up not wanting to disobey him and in hopes that he'll be more merciful on you

"now watch as i absolutely ruin this cunt of yours, hmm?" he whispered on your ear as he continued pressing the vibrator on your abused bud

"s-scara... hnggg.. ah- I'm cu-'' you tried to stop it, you really did but after how long he has edged you, you just couldn't hold it anymore

"did you just cum?" he questioned perplexed, you knew you'd be up for it 

"i- i tried to h-hold it–" not even giving you the time to explain in your ragged breath, he inserted two fingers on your neglected hole and started thrusting at an unrelenting pace

"w-wait ah– p-please" you tried to stop him by grabbing his wrist but the pleasure is too much, you're shaking like a leaf

"you wanna cum, right? my desperate little whore wanna cum? then i'll make you cum until you can't anymore" he battered your cunt, tipping you on edge "cum now my little slut and count, alright?" as if on cue, you reached your climax on his command 

"o-one" you panted, he suddenly halted his movements and leaned his head on the crook of your neck

"darling, have you gone cockdumb? you came earlier without my permission, no?," he teasingly murmured on your neck —chuckling at the thought of you going cockdumb despite not having a cock in you— "that makes it two" then proceeds to continue his ministration 

after being edged for so long and reaching your climax twice, your body is sensitive — making you cum for the third time

"three," looking at him through the mirror, tears glistening, pleading "c-can't anymore, scara, please" 

he continued his ministration—this time slower

—focusing on your sweet spot. trailing kisses on your neck and stimulating your nipples gently

"since when did my pretty girl become a liar?" feeling the familiar clench of your pussy, a sign that you're close

"f-four!" you squealed, feeling the mind racking orgasm wash over you

you gasped still feeling him stimulate your insides "no more" you managed to let out despite your heavy breathing "can't take it anymore" 

your pleas fell on deaf ears as your body betrayed the words that flow out of your mouth

"you really shouldn't lie princess, it's not good for your current predicament" he teased

"what number now?" he asked as he caressed your cheeks "five" you answered being lulled into the softness of his palm. giving a sense of tranquility and peace

you should've known its a faux one, because after a minute — you heard the familiar soft buzz of the vibrator

he placed the object on your overstimulated bud, making you jolt and instinctively close your legs and try holding up his wrist

"please, no more" glassy orbs looking at him hazily and lips adorned with a pout. "just two more, ok? then we'll rest, hmm?" 

"b-but... i can't" you try to argue but he doesn't let you have a say. you hear the familiar subtle buzz of the vibrator before you're writhing from the stimulation 

not even fully recovering from the previous orgasm, you were once again pushed on edge

"last one now darling" he assured you. while, continuously pinching your nipples with his right hand, the other holds the vibrator on your nub and sucking love marks on the sensitive spot on your neck

the familiar knot in your stomach snapping, scara is mesmerized. despite already reaching 6 orgasm, you still manage to give him toe-curling one

he snapped out of his thoughts when he feels you pushing his hand that held the vibrator. he complied, whispering soft nothings while you come down your high

you're about to close your eyes when he suddenly shakes you awake, "darling we still need to get you cleaned, come on". not having enough strength after all that happened, you just let him handle you like a ragdoll

the rest of the night was filled with him tenderly tending you until you fell into a deep sleep.

[just-some-random-blogger]

i was reading your fics, and was reading one where daemon is going up against cregan a little bit. i got this idea, cregan giving the reader a direwolf puppy as a gift. daemon makes a snide comment about it and cregan just turns to him, telling him that your enjoying your new pet, and who knows, maybe one day cregan will give you puppies.

daemon seethes as cregan walks away, acting as if he didn't just imply he was gonna breed you.

Puppy Love

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: Ever since you came of age, you became the jewel of the court and your father turned down proposal after proposal, knowing if the man didn't want your massive dowry, they wanted to claim and corrupt your beauty and kind nature. And the only reason why your father hasn't chewed up the all too friendly dragon prince, was because he was doing most of his job for him. And anyway, your father knew you were too kind to think his attentions to you were anything more than friendly.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, 'too kind' reader, jealous!daemon, smitten!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: first of all, i have written quite a few fics were I've added cregan as uh an opponent for daemon so HAHHAH im not sure which one you mean, though I have an inkling it's Wish I Was Her (this is not a p2 of this btw) second of all, /: cregan dumb for giving away a direwolf to some rando dafaq. third of all, i really want do a take on a 'traditionally feminine reader' since i normally dont do that lol so im tryna make reader fit the period more, without making her a damsel in distress. wish me luck Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

You straighten the brown paper in one hand while you fiddle with the wax seal that was on it moments ago. You snort through your nostrils, beaming at the ink on the the letter, eager to both reach the end of the page, and not wanting the words to end at all.

Daemon, who had been walking with purpose, forgets where he was going along the way when he spots you. You, the giggling lady, sat comfortably on the stone blocks that separated the garden and the hall.

The prince's stoic demeanor melts into an expression similar to yours when you smile at what you were reading. What were you reading? A letter? A letter from-

Quickly, the realization of what kind of letters a lady such as yourself would be receiving that would cause you to giggle like that makes his expression splat into annoyance.

With twice as much purpose, he struts over to you and calls out your name. You immediately avert your gaze, smile widening at the sight of him.

Good.

"My prince," you speak, bowing your head just as Daemon reaches you.

Daemon raises his brows and drops his lips, eyeing the paper in your hand, "a good read?"

You release a chuckle at the expression he pulls, "a very good read. I say Alaric is as good with the quill as he," you point to the paper, "harks to me how good he is with the blade."

He grunts, "Alaric." Where has he heard that tatty name before?

You chuckle as you watch Daemon stiffen. He places his hands behind him, slowly walking to the other side of the block you were sat on, sitting there across you, "which moronic suitor is he again?"

You drop your letter on your lap, tilting your head at the fuming prince, who now had his arms crossed. "Alaric," you start with a chuckle, "is my darling cousin, Anna's, son."

Ahh, Daemon blinks, that's why his name is familiar.

You snort, "he has merely just turned ten and one, your grace."

He clears his throat.

"Do you not recall rejecting my offer to attend the boy's nameday?" you speak through an amused grin.

"I've never cared for namedays," he trails off, crossing his arms.

You laugh. He turns to you because of it. How could he not when your laugh was like that? Your being beams in amusement, glowing like a star. It makes the prince emit a soft chuckle.

"If I didn't know any better," you say in between catching your breath, "I'd you were jealous of a child, my prince."

You catch the small smile on Daemon's face as he pretends to be offended, "and I'd say you've been reading too much."

Very suddenly, you gasp and point at him, making him pull his head back and his expression drop. His concern drops when you say, "is that a blush I see? Ooh!"

Daemon's arms loosen at your words. As if eager to make your words true, he begins to feel his body burn. Damn body.

You gasp the second time before throwing your head back in laughter, "I do say," you sigh, "scarlet suits you well."

Daemon rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he stands from his spot.

"Well, I mean, it is one of the colors of your house."

"Yes," he drops his hands to the side and walks over to you, "and I should well ought to make it your own."

And though Daemon smirks when he says this, your brows furrow at the thought. His vanilla baby.

"It would be pointless to try and convince my father to change anything about our house."

He sighs as you refold your paper, trapping a waxen seal in its center, and move to stand next to him, "in our actual house, I had to argue with him to change our drapes."

"No," Daemon says in shock, as if he actually cared.

"Yes!" you shake your head, "it was terrible! I had to remind him that I was now the woman of the house."

"Oh, that does sound terrible," Daemon huffs, eyes widening. He watches you as you believe in his empathy. He watches as you smile at his disingenuous words. Two beasts rip at him from within.

Normally, naïveté and slow-wittedness were traits that repelled him, especially in its womanly form, as it was drawn from the sheltered nature ladies like yourself were bred into. The dragon in him found this dull and all too conforming. He liked the burn from the whores, who would snarl if you took more than what you paid for.

Yet this personal brand of innocent on you was dizzying to him. One beast wanted to protect the purity within you, while the other wanted to taint it until all remained was him.

"And yes-" you take a moment to continue, "those were my mother's beloved drapes but... they had not been changed since her passing."

Daemon presses his lips together when you turn to the ground with a solemn expression. He does not get a moment to share the semblance of comfort in which he was capable of, because you quickly smile at him the way you always do and comfort yourself, "it is good to remember those who have passed, but they would not want for us to mourn them too long."

For once, he responds with honesty, "they would not, no."

The moment you smile at his words, your attention is taken from the prince.

You are called by a servant, who tells you there is a man waiting for you in the main hall. You courteously thank the servant and turn to Daemon, "thank you for ke-"

"I will escort you to your visitor," Daemon smiles, though not a real one.

You return a genuine one nevertheless, "I am grateful, but I do not wish to bother you, nor take up more of the time you already so graciously offered me."

Daemon takes your hand and pulls you near him with little regard, "you dare dictate what I do and do not with my time?"

You press your lips as you body collides with him.

"As though you were my wife?"

You clench your jaw, unintending to overstep, "my prince, I did not mean for it-"

"Yes, well," he cuts you off, "let us meet this moron who wishes to meet you."

"You know," you smile, "it may well not be a suitor."

Daemon chuckles, "I'm surprised you even caught onto that."

"Well, how could I not?" you chuckle, "when you were just jealous a child!"

He loses his smug expression. He scoffs into a chuckle as you laugh at him. "Oh very good," Daemon rolls his eyes and slowly claps his hand, "I'll give you credit. I did not expect that."

But what he very much did expect was that your audience was sought by a suitor; one large, slobbering dog of a suitor.

Very truly, Daemon's grumbling was merited, for why were you so enamored by the wolf-man and this overgrown rat-pup he bought with him?

He scoffs as you coo at the furry creature for the hundredth time, and for what? For doing absolutely nothing but expose its incompetence to walk in a fucking straight line?

And what's more, for every time the degenerate baby wolf toppled over, you tugged at its master's arm and pointed, leaning into him as you laughed and expressed jovial sentiments over the creature.

The prince rolls his eyes from the armchair he was sat on.

What was so impressive about a dog? There were dozens of strays outside the walls. He could get you twenty right now. A dragon egg should have elicited such a response from you, not this.

"Oh, dear Cregan-"

Gods, dear Cregan, she says.

"-your pup is a ray of sunshine on this chilly day," you speak.

Daemon watches you smile angelically at the large man with muddy dark hair and wiry curls. He watches as the cretin bares his teeth at you like a wolf does its prey, and you mistake it for genuinely, as always.

"If you are cold, my lady," Cregan says, removing the brown pelt on his shoulders, "then allow me to warm you."

Daemon straightens where he was slouched.

You recoil at Cregan's generosity, raising your hands as you shake them, "oh, my lord, I could not possibly accept the clothes on your back."

You watch as Cregan's rosy cheeks pull up with his smile, "then would you prefer I give you one your own?"

Cregan put on his fur again. You open your mouth to speak, but it is Daemon's voice that sounds, "she would rather you fuck off back to the North, dog."

You still at Daemon's words, promptly turning to him with a hardened expression of disbelief, "my prince-"

"And you best take your defective animal with you," he adds, grimacing at the wolf-pup chewing at a ball of wound fabric.

"Prince Daemon," you call tersely.

Daemon turns to you, expression unable to melt with the presence of that oaf on your side.

"Please do not speak for me as though your sentiments and mine own are one and the same," you calmly say.

Daemon scoffs. Cregan chuckles.

You turn to Cregan with a guilty expression, "I apologize on the behalf of ill-contrived words against you, Lord Cregan."

"No, you don't," Daemon quips as he stands, "don't fucking-"

"I appreciate your sentiment, my lady," Cregan ignores the whimpers of the lizard prince, "though you needn't worry yourself, for I am not wounded by words from the likes of him."

"The likes of me?" Daemon sneers as he storms over.

You turn to Daemon, suddenly at your side. Your eyes widen at the fury on his features. You hands instinctively come to his arm when he appears as though he is about to lunge at Cregan.

Cregan watches you do this, watches you calm the hot blooded fiend. Part of him burns in a shade green at your shared familiarity, but he is more amused by the fact you turn to him with a concerned look, nonverbally expressing your concerns that you, in fact, to not want him to pound your prince if he attempts anything. And so he laughs.

Cregan laughs and takes a step back, allowing you to step between them and push Daemon away in return.

Daemon's ire is fueled further, "what, you halfbreed?!"

You grunt as you turn back to Cregan, relieved he was smiling and not partaking in the hotheadedness the other man was.

"Did you fuck your wolf yourself to offer the pup to her?"

You recoil at the grotesque notion. You cannot stop yourself from calling out the prince's name in anger and bewilderment, "Daemon!"

Cregan laughs. It draws your attention. You sigh, "Cregan, I beg your par-"

"No!" Daemon barks, peering down at you, "he's come here on the intent of you bearing his pups, girl, and you'd so readily drop on your knees for him?!"

"He's brought one pup, Daemon!" you quip pulling away from him as you shake your head, "and I have no intentions of keeping the little wolf," you turn to Cregan, "for I have no such capabilities nor capacities to care for one!"

Daemon grinds his teeth. You heave.

Good enough.

The prince finds slight catharsis in your words. His anger does not fade however, because Cregan's grin is as wide as ever.

"Actually," Cregan raises his hands casually, "I have spoken to your father about the pup and he said he would accept it, for I am also giving you one of my servants as an aid."

The two men watch as you perk at the idea.

"Oh!," you gasp in disbelief, "so..." you break into a wide smile, "I can keep the wolf?!"

Cregan laughs as he nods, "and even better, you can name it."

Daemon is appalled by your next actions.

You run and throw yourself onto Cregan, sealing him into a hug for a moment before pulling back in realization your actions were most indecent.

Cregan however prevents you from pulling away too far, hands coming to your waist as he smiles down at you. He speaks with a lopsided grin, "I have been meaning to bring you the pup ever since we spoke about my pregnant wolf when you visited me in the North."

When you what?

"Will your dear Luna not mourn the loss of her puppy?"

LUNA?

Cregan chuckles, pulling his hands away from you, not because he wanted to, but because, between the two of them, he was currently the more amicable in your eyes, and he was not about to ruin that, "I assure you, she will fair fine, as she is preoccupied with three more at home."

You frown, stepping back from Cregan to turn to the pup, not at all seeing the twitching face of your prince, "still... I must not let him be forgotten by her mother and likewise."

Cregan smiles at the sentiment, "you have a kind heart, my lady," he takes your hand, "I would be glad to bring my wolves to your home whenever you want."

You are horrified by the notion, "oh please, it would be much better if I came to you."

Cregan nods, lips in a smirk, "I shall await then."

You seemed to be caught off-guard by the fact you unwittingly just made plans with the Stark.

And you had meant to explain you could not simply agree to his offer, but you were distracted by the string of High Valyrian being spewed into the air, paired by the loud sound of the prince marching out of the room.

[lovebugism]

could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth. 

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him. 

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness. 

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess. 

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step. 

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side. 

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace. 

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell. 

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch. 

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe. 

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you. 

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different. 

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose. 

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

[sweetieviktor]

jealous!sevika x bartender!reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios)

summary: while working at the bar, a guy is being inconvenient. luckily, a jealous sevika takes care of him.

content warning: slightly spoilers of season 1, arc 2 and 3, the guy is harassing reader (it is not sooo explicit but if you dont feel comfortable with this dont read it, please!!), little violence (just a punch) and a bit of blood. be warned, be safe!

author notes: i loved doing this request and, as my first one, i hope this is good. btw here is almost 4am and i haven't slept yet (i promised myself that i would write something on the weekend and i did it yey), so there may be a lot of typos and things like that but i can't think properly now, so yep i will post it as it is now, no proof read, no nothing. wish you guys like it!

» in the late night hours, the last drop was more agitated than ever. in every corner there were people talking, smoking, playing and drinking the drinks you made and poured in their cups again and again.

» working in such a crowded place was like hell, specially today, it looked like all of the lanes came to the bar at the same time. but you were well paid, you couldn't complain much, well, not now that a guy was just about to tip you.

“hey, pretty thing,” the weird man waved his hand to get your attention, smiling creepily at you when he finally got it, “would you get me one more of these?” he raised his glass mid air to make his point clearer “i can pay you well...”

» you knew the risks of his proposal, but money is money, and so is job, and you needed it bad now, things in the lanes never were this difficult, but since the enforces forced their troops in, making money was even harder.

» so you did as you were asked. picked up the bottle from behind the counter, walked to his side and poured in the glass a dose of the liquor. he placed a few more coins than the drinks price on the table and you smiled politely, picking them up.

» in between cards, a certain someone was already watching you from afar, waiting to step in if the man tried to do something that could possibly harm you. she was silco's right-hand, a regular at the lost drop and nothing more. just another sometimes flirty customer, but unlike him, she was respectful with you.

» when you turned your body so you could put the bottle back to its place, the man called you. again. and now she was on full alert, almost forgetting about the cards game she was playing.

“pretty thing, you forgot something! you still haven't told me your name, right? i want to know you... better.” the way he was eyeing you, your body, was making you sick and all you wanted to do was to punch him now, and sadly you couldn't.

but someone could. and she did.

even before you registered what was happening, the tall woman was already at your side, almost shielding you from the man's view, burning eyes looking directly at his soul. “if you ever come here again, i swear to you, the chances of you being alive are zero, you understood?”

“b-but ma'am i did nothing!” his nose was bleeding almost comically, but she still kept her composure, holding the man's face in place, so she could punch him again if needed.

“i've asked you if you understood!” she slammed down her mechanical hand on the table, raising it again, her voice full of rage.

“yes, ma'am!” she released him, and he runned away from the bar, shrinking and muttering “sorry's” at you both again and again.

“and you better never try to talk with them like that.” she shouted so he could still hear her words, jealousy dripping in every one of those. when she looked down on you, your pretty eyes were already shining while you looked up at her.

“thanks. for defending me.” you offered her a little smile, a genuine one, and she offered her hand, which you gladly shaked.

“no need to thanks. name's sevika.” she said, displaying a smirk on her so pretty lips.

“sevika... a beautiful name for an even more beautiful lady.”

» you didn't know her well, and neither did she, but maybe this could be a start of something.

[lionhanie]

boynextdoor playing minecraft! (ot6 hc)

what happens when boynextdoor starts a minecraft server?

word count: 1.2k i think

genre + warnings: crack LOL, cursing, written in lowercase, typos

a/n: this is so stupid LMAO. (i was playing mc earlier whos gonna match my freak)

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

featuring… sungho as numberonecatdad! riwoo as LeeSanghyeok! (he didn’t know he was making his username when he made the account. literal full government name out there)  jaehyun as myungj4e! taesan as GiantMountain! leehan as 212121_! woonhak as xxBlockBeastxx2006! (he made it in 4th grade. says he keeps the name for the nostalgia he doesnt know how to change it)  

→ Join Server?

☆ sungho: the builder

i feel like sungho wouldn’t really be interested in playing mc “seriously” but BOYYYY get him into creative and he’s locking the hell in. ik he does NOT play when it comes to building The Ultimate Spruce Wood Base

he got sick of seeing jaehyun build dirt huts as shelter in their worlds so he took on the role of being the MAIN BUILDER… main vocal? yeah. main builder is his TRUE calling. but i genuinely think he’d be good at it LOL his attention to detail is insane

making entire mansions in survival except he doesn’t even collect the blocks himself. he just waits til people come home with them and he steals them for his builds

In the chat… numberonecatdad: who made this farm by my house 212121_: me and riwoo 212121_: y???? numberonecatdad: … LeeSanghyeok: wjats wrong with it :( numberonecatdad: it’s … so bad LeeSanghyeok: it took us 2 hrs to make btw 212121_: okay but it works numberonecatdad: HALF THE CROPS ARE TRAMPLED numberonecatdad: stay away. leave this to me

the next day its a full fledged farm. windmill in the background. beautiful fields of potatoes and wheat surrounded by a pretty fence. flowers adorning the whole thing. true masterpiece 

☆ riwoo: the noob

i think he’s not really the type to play games like mc. like give him tiny tower or something and he’s at like 400 floors.. neko atsume? he got all the cats unlocked. but MINECRAFT? idk i feel like he’s just 🙂 when he plays bc he has no idea what’s going on

everyone will be off adventuring on their own.. minding their business.. and then there's a death message in the chat saying riwoo died to something so incredibly random. everyone is just like ??? bc wdym you died to a berry bush

the members think its so cute how he’s just… there for the ride! but they can’t help but mess around with riwoo because he is truly lost  & blindly trusts everything they tell him bc he doesn’t know any better

In the chat… 212121_: riwoo stand right there LeeSanghyeok: why 212121_: ima show u a cool easter egg LeeSanghyeok: okie ^_^ LeeSanghyeok was squashed by a falling anvil. LeeSanghyeok: wat was the easter egg LeeSanghyeok: i dont get it xxBlockBeastxx2006: LKSJKJFHKJSnfd;sf GiantMountain: oh riwoo GiantMountain: if u left click u can pet the bees and they heal u LeeSanghyeok: rlly? thats cool i wanna try myungj4e: DONT DO IT LeeSanghyeok was stung to death. numberonecatdad: leave that poor boy ALONE

after that, riwoo learns to be cautious of the maknae line.... he just stays with sungho collecting flowers for his builds or lighting up the caves jaehyun explores and running from the mobs :,)

☆ jaehyun: the miner

jaehyun is definitely the type to go straight to mining when you start up a new world. the second everyone sees "myungj4e has just earned the achievement [Acquire Hardware]" they KNOW he's clocking into his full time job in the mines bye

it’s 30 mins in and he has half a set of diamond armor to his name and they’re like ?? bro we just started can you be fr rn… if any of the members ask for materials he won’t do it unless he’s getting something out of it (don’t tell anyone but he made riwoo a set of diamond tools when everyone is still using iron 😍 true romance i think)

lowkey everyone is convinced he has x-ray installed or something bc of how good he is at mining

In the chat… numberonecatdad: can i get three diamonds for a new pickaxe myungj4e: lmao NO  myungj4e: wat do i get in return numberonecatdad: how do you live in a dirt shack and have diamond armor GiantMountain: embarrassing.... myungj4e: okay making fun of the less fortunate now??? numberonecatdad: ill build u a house if u give me diamonds myungj4e: k fine  xxBlockBeastxx2006: OH BUT WHEN I ASK FOR DIAMONDS I DONT GET ANY

at the end of the day tho... he's lowkey a blessing bc if he's feeling nice enough he will hook u up with ANYTHING u need. the boys are spoiled w the way jae's chests are FULL of iron whenever they need it

☆ taesan: the fighter

unironically i think taesan would just be . oddly good at pvp. it’s like one of his random talents LOOOL "good at mc pvp" on his resume LOUD AND PROUD

like you load up into bedwars or something and he’s wiping out teams before you can even get yourself a proper set of armor. its lowkey attractive idk

in your survival world, he’s always instigating fights with the other members in hopes that they’ll want to fight. literally no one can kill him. he can probably 1v5 and still win

In the chat... myungj4e: WHO TOOK THE DIAMONDS FROM MY CHEST WHILE I WAS OFFLINE LeeSanghyeok: it was taesan GiantMountain: …what are u gonna do about it bro. huh. they’re mine now.  myungj4e: bro that was like a full stack. it took me like 3 hours to get them. where the hell are you  GiantMountain: why? you wanna fight for it? GiantMountain: whoever wins keeps the diamonds xxBlockBeastxx2006: oh ur cooked hyung myungj4e: OK DEAL myungj4e was slain by GiantMountain using Diamond Sword.

the way u can hear jaehyun RAGE through the dorm walls brings a smile to taesan's face bc he KNOWS he stays undefeated when it comes to pvp

☆ leehan: the troll

i think he’s similar to riwoo in the sense that he doesn’t rlly know whats going on but once they start their server you know DAMN well he’s looking up Top 15 BEST Ways To ANNOY Your FRIENDS in Minecraft! on youtube.,.. fucking loser (hearts in my eyes as i write this)

they’re usually harmless ones, like filling up jaehyun's chests with junk or renaming sungho's cat to something stupid like “Poopy Fart” or moving all of woonhak's cows from their pen

but ohh… if you piss him awf BADDD i think he would do some DIABOLICAL damage to the world. like imagine taesan is Also Trolling and he kills leehan before taking all of his stuff and running away into the distance. things would be quiet… too quiet…. until next thing u kno theres a whole trap waiting for taesan the second he walks into his house 

In the chat… 212121_: taesan do u still have my fishing rod GiantMountain: ye lol 212121_: can i have it back GiantMountain: LMAO GiantMountain: no 212121_: i think theres a creeper in ur house  GiantMountain: WHAT  GiantMountain was killed by magic while trying to escape 212121_.  numberonecatdad: LOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL GiantMountain: when the hell did you set that up 212121_: >:)

OKAY YES he spent 46 minutes following a tutorial on how to set up a death chamber full of the WORST potion effects ever ... but it worked so he's sitting at his monitor feelijng like an evil mastermind

☆ woonhak: the sweat

he is like the only one i imagined actually PLAYED minecraft growing up. he unironically enjoys watching minecraft streams too LMAO much like jaehyun, i think woonhak goes straight to mining in survival. except rather than /just/ mining, he’s literally trying to beat the game 

he's usually off on his own doing something but ngl .. i bet he's a backseat gamer when he see's someone doing smth wrong. let's say he's out exploring w riwoo and he's falling SO FAR BEHIND he doesn't know how to sprint he will literally walk into his room to show him how to run

bro probably watched Ender Dragon Speedruns growing up idk i feel like he’s determined to beat the world record (he won’t, but he will definitely try) 

In the chat... xxBlockBeastxx2006 has just earned the achievement [The End?] numberonecatdad: ? 212121_: ?? 212121_: is that what i think it is myungj4e: ../?//???? ?  ??? LeeSanghyeok: wat is that LeeSanghyeok: whys the achievement purple GiantMountain: r u fr rn 212121z: LMAO tryhard alert... xxBlockBeastxx2006: yooo chill we can always respawn it dw myungj4e: HOW DARE U KILL THE ENDERDRAGON WITHOUT US myungj4e: UR FAKE AS HELL xxBlockBeastxx2006 has been banned from the server by myungj4e

woonhak doesn't talk to jaehyun for the rest of the night (he's unbanned the next day, but they force him to restart so he isn't absolutely STACKED)

taglist: @onedoornet @dongminz (ty saki for supporting me with my bonedo mc thoughts LMFAO) @gluion @icyminghao

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