#my other boys there constantly tease him about how he’s ’into older women’

[psychoticwillgraham]

went to trade in some cards earlier today and the 20 year old guy that has a massive crush on me saw me walk in and immediately went ‘you look pretty today’ and blurted it out and started blushing and ngl it was super cute

[star-sim]

boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

.

.

.

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

[skeleton-mischief]

Red Serrif

I actually used to hate Fell Sans because he sexually harassed women. Bro is canonically a woman respecter what happened actually?

Anyways, I decided to make him my little meow meow instead and he's thriving

To Note: Some of these are actually canon facts but I'm putting these here for more organization

- Official height 5'5, he has sneakers after all

- He/Him

- Nihilist

- Emotional constipation is this guys middle name do NOT expect him to give good advice

- Horrible at taking care of himself, his bedroom is yucky

- Drinks Mustard

- Extremely patient with his brother, despite acting otherwise

- He blames himself for his bad dynamic with his brother, he knows that Pitch is trying to mend it but the two just don't know how to go about it

- Older brother model with Rus

- Ha has little to no filter

- Assertive, pessimistic, cynical, overthinker, lazy, distrustful, blunt, playful, easily irritated, teasing, confrontational, laid back, intuitive, and reckless

- He had a weird relationship with Gaster, and he wishes that he was able to do more before he watched Gaster lose HOPE

- Prefers pranks and knock knock jokes over puns

- Will welcome a fight, though he tends to provoke them at times since he learned that being a smug asshole shows his cool guy persona

- He has outright thrown Burgerpants out of Grillby's before

- He is a dog person but doesn't admit it to Pitch

- He curses often, but he actively tries not to in front of Pitch

- He likes action films since it's fast paced and dramatic, but he secretly loves romance films sometimes and can get sucked in a telenovela

- He doesn't admit it, but he gets jumpscared by horror films and ends up feeling embarrassed

- He'll eat practically anything and compliment someone's garbage food, but you can tell he likes something when he takes his time

- He only likes Grillby's burgers, no one can perfectly get it right

- Wore mittens underground, but he doesn't use them much when he was thrown into another alternative timeline

- He uses his magic to light his cigarettes, flicking his thumb to do so since his magic involves flame like abilities

- His magic smells of burning wood, while his magic tastes of cherry

- He has ash and yellow tinted bone due to his smoking and overall environment undergroung

- I think he'd be allergic to cats, so he always knows when Doomfanger is around

- He feels like he can't protect Pitch anymore, especially since he remains distant with Pitch, he's the one to push the distance between the two

- He wears sneakers to annoy others, especially in Snowdin since they squeak

- He has a collar he got from Alphys, so he gave it to his pet rock. Instead of it being a "tame rock" he'll take it on walks and go "down! Down boy!" As if it growled. Frisk has probably heard it do so before but no one knows if it's sentient or not

- He sweats due to his heavy jacket & stress. Because of his stress, his eye glows constantly in one eyelight

- He always wears 5 rings and uses magic to prevent them from falling off, he's basically flexing that he can use his magic for dumb reasons

- Calls Pitch any variation of Boss. "Chief, Jefe, Boss, Honcho, Boss Man, etc"

- He tried Pitch's boots once and felt alive

- Pays Grillby in socks, even if it pisses him off. Grillby doesn't seem to mind though, since he can be seen wearing them

- He got a custom jacket from Grillby for making him laugh once. This is canon since it's proven to be a copy of what Grillby wears but I decided that it would be cool if it was customized by Pitch to give him an original style

- He sells chimichangas that his brother makes instead of hot dogs

- Likes fist bumps

- Would play electric guitar if given the chance

- Has beef with Error

- wore a grey jacket, mismatched socks, Crocs, and a nasty red shirt before he got yassified

- Opens his mouth with fire in genocide battle

- He struggles expressing himself, so he uses physical touch instead

- He would make a horrible first impression

- He would call Frisk "pipsqueak"

- An angry crier, he hyperventilates and can lash out at others. He doesn't like to do that though, so he often will hide away to cry

- Would call his lover "sweetheart"

- Plays the trumpet

- A woman respecter

- Has a red tricycle with small little red flames to look cooler than Vanilla's bike

- "His room would be messier with a bunch of socks,slippers, and sneakers (all mix matched) he’d probably have a pile of broken alarm clocks that papyrus gave him (smashed them all), a coat hanger that has one gray hoodie on it." I believe this is paraphrasing the canon creator Underfella

- His rings and gold chains act as collar/leash for his gaster blaster's during the betrayal route, I still think he'd use them even outside of this

- His red eye is reflective of his corrupted emotional state, so when he uses gravity/spacetime magic, his eye flickers yellow and orange.

- Likes green martinis [specifically honeydew martinis, an appletini, or a margarita.]

- Only calls Pitch Pap or Papyrus when it's serious or when he needs to get his attention

- Somehow has an employee discount at hot topic

- Is far from a morning person, you'll see him act like a corpse and drag a blanket around while his eyes are mostly closed. He stays up gaming though so you can't feel too bad for him

- He has a mug for coffee with just the giant words "CUM" on it

- He has reading glasses but they broke and he wants to look cool. As a result he squints his eyes a lot

- Has sleep paralysis often due to his anxiety and stress

- He shares his music tastes with others but won't let others know his favorite hobbies

- He has bitten people before. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules (I do)

- He's actively fled from his brother when it's time to clean or bathe. I know this mf smells god awful while underground. I think only above ground when he's no longer needing to put his focus on survival does he start to take care of his hygiene

- Has some cracks and scars on his bone, but no one sees it because he hides this

- His soul has a dullness to it and actively was cracked at some point. He's very protective of it and he won't show it until waaaaay later

- He can't take the heat if you flirt with him back, kinda getting a little goofy and being unable to take himself seriously- especially if you're smiling and laughing with him

- Games he likes to play are more free shooter games, sandbox games such as Minecraft, and in secret he has ACNH where he makes sure his island has style and a good aesthetic

- He would be the king of socks like Vanilla but he gives his socks to Grillby instead

Closing Notes: some of these are straight up from Underfella, so I recommend going over to their account to give this popular AU some fun! I don't expect the creator to ever see my stuff, but I wanted to stay at least devoted to their creation while throwing out my own interpretations and hc's! Thank you for reading

[youhideastar]

WIP Wednesday: Tender

Thank you to the anon who sends me reminder asks about WIP Wednesday - it is nice to know that someone is looking forward to these!☺️

This week, I'm continuing work on Tender, which is the obligatory LWJ-visits-the-Burial-Mounds fic, described in this post, which features the first scene of the fic. In response to another ask, I also recently posted this Wen Qing scene from the same WIP, so I thought for today's WIP Wednesday, I'd post the scene that goes between those two! Despite the subject matter (content warning for mentions of sex work, not between the main characters), this fic is significantly softer than Concord, I promise. I hope you enjoy!

The next morning, Lan Wangji makes his purchases in town and embarks on the path to and through the Burial Mounds.

With every step, his horror grows – he is constantly aware of the seethe of resentful energy, the thick smog of angry death, coiling against his skin and in his lungs. How can Wei Ying bear to live here? How can anyone?

But he makes his way past the wards—Wei Ying was correct that they are nothing more than a difficult puzzle to unravel, although they would pose a serious obstacle for a lesser cultivator—and as he approaches the palace, he is surprised to find the miasma of rage and bitter death fading.

By the time he steps into a sort of a clearing, with rows of crops off to one side, the choking stench of decay is almost entirely gone.

Wei Ying is there to greet him, smiling broadly and flanked by Wen Qing and an older woman who Lan Wangji assumes to be the “Wen-popo” Wei Ying had mentioned last night. Behind them are others, mostly women and old men. They look afraid.

Of him.

Lan Wangji bows deeply and projects his voice when he says, “Wei Ying, it is good to see you again. Wen-guniang, thank you for welcoming this one to your home.” He bows once more specifically to the older woman and introduces himself. From behind her leg, a small child peeks, wide-eyed.

When he straightens up, the other Wen refugees look somewhat less frightened. He hopes that his next actions will make it even clearer that he has no hostile intent.

“Wen-guniang, Wen-popo—” for so she had told him to address her, “—this cultivator has brought gifts for his hosts. May he present them to you?”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying cries in protest.

Wen Qing ignores him and steps forward. Quietly, she says, “It is unnecessary. But we are not too proud to accept Hanguang-jun’s generosity. This Wen Qing thanks you.”

Lan Wangji nods and begins to unpack his qiankun bags: rice and millet, salt and rope, cooking oil and lamp oil. Items clearly intended for the entire settlement, not for one man.

And, at the end, the sweets, and a few toys that Lan Wangji had been unable to resist, which he delivers directly to the child, A-Yuan. A-Yuan is so overwhelmed with joy that he cries, causing Lan Wangji to panic and thereby making him a source of great amusement for the other Wens. Nothing, he suspects, is less threatening than a grown man rendered witless by a sobbing child. It is worth the embarrassment.

As the Wens disperse to store his gifts in the appropriate places, Wei Ying approaches him. He is still smiling. But there is a touch of wariness to it. “Rich-gege,” he says, teasing. “So generous.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. It is shameful, how little these staples cost him. He has never been so excruciatingly conscious of his own wealth.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying’s gaze is steady. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Thank you for explaining the community’s needs,” Lan Wangji replies, blandly. “It was helpful in selecting appropriate gifts for my hosts.”

“Helpful.”

“Mn.”

“Well. I’m always helpful.” Wei Ying’s eyes are still fixed on Lan Wangji’s face.

Then he blinks, startled, as A-Yuan barrels into his leg. “Aiyo, little radish, are you still crying?” he asks the boy, ruffling his hair.

“I never cry,” A-Yuan replies, with absolute sincerity. He has clearly learned much from Wei Ying.

Wei Ying laughs and hoists the boy up on his hip. He returns his attention to Lan Wangji.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, sober. “Thank you.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head again.

“Wei-gongzi!” someone calls, and Wei Ying makes a face.

“I’m the tallest person here,” he grumbles, “and whenever they need something stowed up high, it’s always ‘Wei-gongzi!’”

When Wei Ying trudges away toward the palace, Lan Wangji takes the opportunity to examine the settlement.

Immediately, he knows that everyone here knows how Wei Ying provides for them. Wei Ying’s belief in their ignorance is a fantasy. Everyone else is down in the dirt, in the mud, backs bent, hands rough, faces peeling from the sun, and Wei Ying was—Not a speck of dirt on him, comes the whisper of a memory. Clean, soft hands. Face soft, too, tanner than he once was, but unweathered by the sun or the wind.

They know, yes. But they are kind enough to pretend that they do not. To allow Wei Ying his small self-deception. For that kindness, no rice or salt, no oil or thread, could be thanks enough.