#zero the lobby boy

[prismaticxchromatics]

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) Director: Wes Anderson

“I must say, I find that girl utterly delightful. Flat as a board, enormous birthmark the shape of Mexico over half her face, sweating for hours on end in that sweltering kitchen, while Mendl, genius though he is, looms over her like a hulking gorilla. Yet without question, without fail, always and invariably, she's exceedingly lovely. Why? Because of her purity.”

[ln4swiftie]

Slim Pickin’s

☕️ ln4 x bestfriend!reader

☕️ where your childhood wish becomes a reality

☕️ warnings - none !! just some fluff and kisses

☕️ word count 1.5k

☕️ a/n : so i heard sabrina carpenters song that’s gonna be on short n’ sweet and then this was born two days later !! enjoy <33

“Maybe I'm gay.”

your best friend, lando, looks at you, confused. “what?” he asks through a chuckle.

you were fed up. The number of douchebag men that you have in your phone and not one of them has ever made it to a second date. That fact makes you want to rip your eyeballs out.

“maybe god just forgot my gay awakening and that’s why i can’t find a boyfriend! maybe i just don’t like men.” you throw your head back on the couch in lando’s living room in monaco.

“i doubt that he just forgot,” lando giggles

you knew this wasn't true. you knew you liked men and only men. because you definitely liked the man sitting at your feet, and you have since you were both 15. you’ve just never ever told him.

And you planned to keep it that way.

you groaned. “No, Lando, you don’t get it! it’s slim pickings around here. half the men in my phone don’t even know the difference between there, their and they’re!” quiet giggles from the man sitting across the couch from you filled the room.

Lando knew you were only joking, yet he can’t help but feel bad at your lack of dating life when he has models flocking toward him at all hours of the day. granted, the girl he wants isn’t even a model. In fact, she’s sitting right in front of him, sprawled out on his couch, complaining about boys. but she didn’t know that.

And he planned on keeping it that way.

—

Throughout your week-long stay in Monaco, you decided to set yourself on a mission to meet a guy and go on a date. On the fourth day, you were successful!

During a coffee run while lando streamed, you met a guy who asked you out to dinner the following night. You were so excited since given your history, the chance of a guy asking you out was close to zero. When he asked you even scanned your surroundings to make sure he was talking to you specifically.

you were getting ready in the guest room of lando’s apartment, since you were staying there during your visit.

while applying your lip liner and gloss, you heard a knock on the door. “Hey, what are you thinking we do for din- woah.”

the curly haired brunette stared at you in awe. you were always beautiful in his eyes, yet right now he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. it then clicks in lando’s head that you’re not dressed for him. “Why are you all dressed up?!” he teases, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“oh i have a date!” you hum with a smile.

he looks at you confused, like he doesn’t believe you fully. leaning against the doorway “what happened to slim pickings?” he pokes, crossing his arms atop his chest.

“can’t a girl meet a guy and go on a date? gosh.” you scoff, slightly annoyed that he’s teasing you over this. you’d hoped he would be happy you’re crawling your way out of this slump of being single. it was one of the things you loved about him — how he always treated you with nothing but kindness and support.

“Fine, fine, whatever. have fun, i guess” he turns around and ducks into his office, closing the door harsher than you expected. Just as you make a mental reminder to have a talk with him about it, your phone chimes — your date is waiting in the lobby.

lando watches you from the cracked doorway of his office, as you do a final check of your makeup in the mirror of the mud room. he thought you looked beautiful and was silently raging at the fact he isn’t the man you’ve dressed up for tonight. he’s liked you since you both were young kids running through the suburban bristol streets while your parents sat on the patio of his childhood home socializing over cocktails.

You were always there to support him through his racing career and you were the first person he called after McLaren chose to extend his contract. While he doubted himself and everyone told him to leave, you told him to follow his heart and do what felt right to him. Now, he’s a race winner with the team he calls home. To him, it’s always been you. You have always been the girl he pictured his life with.

But his gut always told him you’d never return these feelings back to him.

—

your date went horrible. All the guy did was talk about himself. and once he found out you were friends with some celebrities, the date had ended there for you. although you got some free drinks and a meal out of it. it only made you fall further into this loneliness.

the elevator dings, signaling you’ve arrived at the floor of lando’s apartment. you stumble to lando’s door. the alcohol takes effect and makes you trip into the door, startling Lando who’s standing just on the other side, waiting for you. He throws the door open, finding you standing there with slightly messed up hair and a frown on your face.

“c’mere,” he says quietly, taking you to the couch. sat on the coffee table in front of you, he gently took your foot into his lap. you feel his soft touch as he gently removes your heels from your feet. sending shivers down your spine.

“It was horrible. all he did was talk about himself,” you say frustrated. “I also accidentally let it slip that I knew you, oh, and don’t even get me started on his horrible taste in just about everything.”

He helps you up, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the counter. He rummages through your toiletries bag, before taking out your makeup remover. As he starts removing your makeup, you study every inch of his face, counting every freckle and watching the way his jaw muscles clench as he focuses.

god he was beautiful.

you feel a lump in your throat as tears begin to fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Lando asks, halting his movements.

“it’s just- i'm pretty sure every good man in this world is either taken or dead and its not fair.” you say letting a stray tear fall. in your head you knew you were being dramatic, but the three glasses of wine you had to get through that date have taken full control of your emotions.

Lando chuckles lightly, folding with the used makeup wipe in his hands, he looks to you “well, i’m neither of those things.” he says softly, almost as if he’s upset.

fuck. shit.

“no, no, wait, lando- i didn’t mean it like that, you're a great guy. an amazing guy actually.” you say quickly. he smiles at you as you continue to ramble “i mean, shit, i’d date you in a heartbeat-“

“what?”

you slap your hand over your mouth. holy fuck, did you really just say that? and Lando not saying anything just solidifies that he doesn’t return your feelings. Lando is staring at you like you’ve got three heads coming out of both of your ears.

you start to panic “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that, forget i said any-“ you’re cut off with the feeling of lando’s lips crashing into yours. his hands gently cup your face as he kisses you. you instantly return the kiss. The world slowly falls away leaving just the two of you. your hands moving to find home in his curl, slightly pulling on them. Lando releases a quiet groan. His hands work their way down your body to rest on your hips, gently pulling you closer to him.

Lando pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I have literally loved you since we were 16.”

you smile at him, “i love you, too.”

The two of you find yourself in Lando's bed watching your favorite movie, wrapped up in eachother. Lando turns his head to look down at you resting on his chest. Admiring your sleepy state as you attempt to stay focused on the movie he gave up on watching. How can he focus on anything else when you were sitting next to him?

the girl he's wanted since the two of you sat on his porch on a late summer night, eating the ice cream his mother tried to hide. giggles filling the air while you pointed out constellations to lando, chatting about where you wanted to be in 5 years.

“Well I hope to be in formula 1” Lando admitted. “You'll be there, I'm sure of it.” you added giving lando a smile he swore was brighter than the stars sat above.

He gasps slightly “don't move”

you freeze as he reaches a hand to your cheek, softly swiping a fallen eyelash holding it in front you.

“Make a wish” he breathed.

You shut your eyes tight, emphasizing the wish you were making before taking a big breath and sending the eyelash into the air. Followed by the sound of giggles coming from the brunette, he asks what you wished for. “If i tell you it won't come true!” you gasp faking offense.

who knew that after 8 years, your wish would finally came true.

🤍☕️.

AYAYAYAYAY ALL DONE !!

big thank u too my lovely friend who edited this and helped me <33

[livelaughloveluffy]

imagine luffy confessing his admiration and love for you after seeing each other after 2 years, before being separated the two of you were becoming more intimate with each other and seeking one another out during downtimes cuddling, holding hands, or just wanting the comfort of one another

confession - monkey d. luffy

a/n: thank you for the ask!!! it literally came at the perfect time!! i was planning on writing a confession series with the boys and i love your addition to the prompt!! since you specifically said two years, i think you know exactly where i'm going with this, so luffy's confession will take place post-time skip!! these will definitely be longer fics, but know that there will definitely be similar fics in the future!

a/n: i did proof-read, however it was more like proof-skimmed if im being honest

enies lobby // paramount war spoilers under the cut!!!

ngl, there's a little bit hurt here... but there is also plenty of comfort and fluff to make up for it 😭💀

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the first thing you learned about your captain was that he has zero concept of personal space. this wasn't something that particularly bothered you.. however it was definitely an adjustment from what you were used to.

as one of first few members to join the straw hat pirates, you and luffy had lots of time with just the two of you, giving you more than your fair share of opportunities to get to know each other. the captain really enjoyed your presence, as you seemed to just get him. it was one of the many reasons he asked you to join his crew in the first place. but in actuality, he was always drawn to you from the second he first saw you.

something about the way you carried yourself, so elegantly but so sure of yourself, even in combat you were a wonder to his eyes. when he finally got a chance to talk to you, he suddenly just had this overwhelming feeling that he couldn't imagine a life without you in it.

many days and night on the going merry were spent making sharing jokes and obnoxiously laughing at them, sneaking way too many snacks from the kitchen until sanji caught you both, and tons of crazy and fun adventures were shared together.

the countless times luffy would run up to you with a huge smile on his face, grabbing your hand in his, exclaiming "you have to see this!! come on!!" before he would whisk you away to some small silly shenanigan of his was a frequent occurrence, but one that you had become to enjoy dearly.

the second his fingers interlocked around yours, everything just felt better, even for just a second. and you could've sworn he felt it too. he'd smile just a bit wider, laugh a bit louder, and pull you a little bit closer.

•♡•

it wasn't until the shock of losing robin and breaking into enies lobby to rescue her that had finally bonded you two even closer than you already were. watching luffy being unable to move after defeating rob lucci had to be one to the scariest moments of your life.

it wasn't until the whole crew was back together on a new ship ready to conquer your next adventure, that you finally got some alone time with luffy. you and chopper had to beg him to rest and recover from his injuries. but he only agreed to do so if you kept him company.

"lu, are you awake?" you whispered, walking into the dark shared boys room, finding luffy laying down on his cot. "chopper said it's time to take your meds, so i brought them for you."

a tired and groggy luffy rolled over to greet you, taking a seat at the edge of his cot, you smoothed down his crazy bed-head before handing him is meds. "do i have to take them?" he pleaded, eyes wide in hopes he could make you pity him enough to say no. "i'll get sanji to make you an extra dessert if you do" with that being said, he took his meds without any more hesitation or fussing.

you began standing up from his cot, ready to sweet-talk your way to a special dessert made my sanji (he didn't need to know who it was really for anyways), when luffy grabbed your hand stopping you in your tracks. "where are you going? i thought you'd stay here with me?"

"i was just going to get sanji to start on-" but before you could finish your sentence, your captain pulled you into his arms and cot. "i don't want you to leave yet.." he said, whining with his face buried in the crook of your neck "stay for a little bit longer.."

who were you to disobey the captain's orders?

•♡•

cuddling with your captain was truly a special event. it wasn't nearly as common as you had hoped, since luffy often refuses to sit still long enough for it to happen.

warm rubber limbs wrapped two times too many around your body, his soft dark brown hair tickling your cheek as he buried his face in your neck and shoulder. luffy smelled like the ocean breeze, sweat, and sunshine (which sounds crazy, but if sunshine had a smell, it would smell like luffy), a scent that you had grown so extremely comforted by, it felt like a warm hug, or just getting home after a long day.

"lu, don't you want me to get your dessert?" you whispered. his soft tired voice only had enough energy to mumble out a soft "later.." before he drifted off to sleep.

and just for tonight, you would stay. soaking up this opportunity and holding onto it for dear life.

•♡•

when your crew had initially stopped at sabaody, you truly thought you were in for a fun time. yes, you always expected a little hitch in the plans, that's just natural considering your captain, but nothing could prepare you for what was to come.

•♡•

as per usual, you're running for your lives from government officials, and countless other enemies, this time the stakes higher than they had ever been before, with crew members disappearing right in front of your eyes. before you knew it, it was just you and luffy left. tears welling in your eyes as luffy lets out an ear-shattering scream for you to just run.

you swear you didn't even see bartholomew kuma in front of you, but the next thing you knew you were shooting through the sky, heading god knows where, separated from your crew and your beloved captain.

•♡•

the island you ended up at was less than ideal. between fighting for your life daily, attempting to find some sort of civilization, and being separated from the people you loved the most in the world, you really couldn't imagine anything worse.

that wasn't until the day you finally found a town, hordes of people were crowding a newspaper stand, after making your way through the crowd, and grabbing a paper to see what all the fuss was about, did your heart finally break into two.

the headline read: portgas d. ace - died in action during paramount war

your eyes began to overflow with tears, just imagining the amount of pain luffy was in, and you could do absolutely nothing to help. you momentarily lost yourself in the grief of it all, the man you loved, separated from the people he loved and trusted the most, witnessing the death of his brother right in front of his eyes, all alone.

and the shock didn't end there. when a couple days later, a pit of dread inside your stomach when you heard the same crowds out again huddled around the newspaper stand, only to find your captain on the cover.

at first, knowing he was safe and somewhat okay made you drop to your knees with relief that you almost overlooked the drawing on his arm: 3D2Y

•♡•

the only thing that got you through those 2 years always from luffy and the crew was keeping extremely busy. if you weren't constantly training in combat, practicing new techniques with your devil fruit, reading anything and everything under the sun from history to medicine to stupid trashy romance novels, learning new languages, and a thousand other skills. you hardly had time for sleep, let alone time to think, because if for a second you stopped, you would fall apart.

•♡•

it was by sheer luck you managed to avoid the hassle that caribou and his crew had caused, turns out you made the right call to just stay aboard the sunny.

the second your eyes met luffy and his feet touched the deck, his arms were already wrapped around you so tight that you forgot how to breathe for a second. after 2 years of holding back your tears, this one hug is what finally made you come undone. you buried your face into the crook of your captain's neck, and he placed his hand on top of your head, stroking your hair as you sobbed. "i missed you too, so much more than you know." he whispered as he held you, this time he'd never let you go again.

•♡•

the voyage to fishman island proved to be the best time for the crew to finally relax and get to enjoy in each other's presence for the first time in years, truly a great reason for an over-the-top banquet on its own. and boy, what a banquet it was.

•♡•

you had deeply missed girl talk with robin and nami, all three of you sharing stories from your time apart, when a hand suddenly slipped into yours. you turn your head to the bright wide hazel eyes of your captain "um.. there's something i want to tell you...in private.." he said, with this adorable little lopsided smile with a hint of blush spreading across his cheeks that you had never seen before, but committed to memory the second you did. the girls smiled at you, gesturing it was okay to step away and you could catch up later.

he whisked you away to his favorite spot, the top of the hull, in a painful amount of silence. your mind suddenly overwhelmed conjuring up the millions of things he could possible say to you. after helping you get atop the lion's head of the thousand sunny, with luffy standing in front of you, he placed his hands hips lifting you up and letting you wrap your legs around his waist before he gently sat down, and then your mind just stopped.

the familiar warmth of luffy's chest pressed against yours, arms around your back, and cheek pressed up against yours with his chin resting on your shoulder. oh, how you had missed this.

turning your face ever so slightly to look at his, did you finally meet his eyes. with a small smile, he looked at you and with a small giggle and a tiny voice he said "hi". you couldn't help but let your heart melt right there as you shyly smiled back and returned the greeting.

with your eyes still on his, you couldn't help but ask "lu, what did you want to talk to me about?" the curiosity and suspense was starting to make you want to crawl out of your skin.

"oh! right!! i wanted to tell you that i love you!" he cheerly replied, so casual that you questioned if you had misheard him.

you couldn't help yourself but to ask for clarification "wait, what did you just say luffy?"

and with his usual luffy smile, he loudly and proudly repeated the words you thought you misheard "i said i love you!!"

for a second, your heart stopped. "you love me? lu, are you su-"

but before you could begin to question him, he put a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in for a small kiss. once his lips finally left yours, you looked at him with wide eyes and bright red cheeks, searching for an explanation.

he softly began to explain "i couldn't wait to tell you any longer... after these past two years.. i just... i want you to know that i love you."

your eyes turned glassy, and with your captain's wide waiting eyes, you couldn't stop yourself as the words "i love you too, lu." poured out of your mouth. pulling your captain as close as you could to you, you held him knowing this time you'd never have to let him go.

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a/n: ahhhhhhhhh, i live and die for calling luffy "lu", its truly my favorite pet name in the world for him 😭😭😭 hopefully i was able to do your ask some justice!!

a/n: i just checked my activity center on tumblr and !!!! omg thank you so much for 100 followers!! the amount of love and support i've been receiving on my fics genuinely means the world to me!! so if you're new, or just now finding my blog, thank you for being here!!!

a/n: enjoyed this fic? you can find my masterlist here!!

[drgnflyteabox]

Malewife Gaz comes back from deployment desperate for his mean, office siren gf <3

MDNI / dub con-ish / public sex / overstim / anal play / grinding / Kyle is kinda gross lol I luv him / he eats it from the back :D / they're both switches / squirting

Reader works in an office, but it's not clear what she does. She does have her own private office though ;) you go girl!

You're ignoring him.

Your phone isn't turned off, it's not even on silent, but you haven't flipped it right side up despite the near constant buzzing. Kyle has been texting, calling, but you're cross at the moment and don't feel like having it out with him on a work day.

You should turn your phone off. It's distracting, and a little inappropriate to have it making so much noise even through the walls cushioning your personal office.

The thing is, it's a little gratifying that he's desperately trying to reach you. Part of it is the satisfaction that he's a little anxious and wants to make it up, and part of it is wanting him to be extra sorry when you gets home.

Kyle had been able to call you all through the past month despite being on deployment. At least twice a week, you'd be laid up in bed or tucked away on lunch in your office telling him about your day. A rare treat for someone of his vocation, and something you appreciated greatly. The expectation you always set for yourself was zero contact - something to keep you from being hurt or placing more stress on him. Truly, your workaholic tendencies made you perfect for somebody that spent so much time deployed. When he came back, he made you take a break. There was a balance.

Typically you'd get a window of time for when he'd be back home. Your favourite thing to do was to cook a British classic for the occasion, usually bangers and mash - his favourite. You always had his preferred beer too, a brand you noticed he copied from Price. So cute. Yesterday morning he'd sent you a message that he'd be home for 9pm, a little late for dinner but the boys wanted to catch up at their favourite pub before they separated.

Only last night you'd sat at the table waiting for two full hours by yourself before giving up. His meal was packed in the fridge while you'd eaten yours by yourself on the couch with a glass of wine, texts going unanswered.

The worst part wasn't that he hadn't shown up. Sometimes that happened, when missions ran long or he'd gotten too into his cups with his team. It was annoying, but your tradition was to spend the day together when he got back, and you didn't mind having breakfast with him instead. You just didn't appreciate that he didn't even call or text about it, and that in the morning you found him sprawled on the couch with just his boxers and a mess of clothing tossed on the ground from the door to the living room couch. Socks, pants, his tank top.

So, petty as you are, you go to work and forego the tradition. Ignoring him. You dressed nice, too, black stockings and as tarty as you could without getting a call from HR. He hadn't seen you leave, but you wanted to get home and remind him what he was missing.

Your office phone rang once, twice, "hello?" The secretary at the front of the building was a nice enough lady, but she rarely called you directly. "Your lunch is here - the deliveryman is just waiting."

"Deliveryman?" You say skeptically. You hadn't ordered lunch. You'd brought Kyle's leftovers.

"Yep. Should I send him up?" Though you probably know who it is, you tell her you'll be down in the lobby instead. You'd prefer to be safe than sorry, in case it isn't Kyle.

It is.

He looks like a kicked puppy, holding some kind of takeout bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. He knows you love Los Vaqueros, the little coffeeshop next door. It's probably a macadamia nut latte, your favourite.

"Babe," he starts, sounding a little rough. Probably battling a hangover. He's wearing your favourite shirt, a tight black compression shirt that shows off his tits. Grey running sweats. Oh, he's good. "Is your phone dead?"

"I've got a pretty busy day today, Kyle," you're a little snotty about it. Your hip is cocked to the side. You want him to work a little. "I was in the middle of a meeting."

"You can't be that mad at me. I brought you macadamia and a caesar wrap. Come on, baby." He shifts the bag into the same hand as the coffee, using the other to show you his palm in apology.

You peer at him a little warily. It's times like this you wish he wasn't so tall, so that you could look at him all judgemental secretary like. You settle for arching a brow and squinting. "Go away now, I'll see you at home. I better not see any dirty socks on my floor, either."

"I cleaned them this morning, I swear."

"Good. Now scram, and give me that coffee." You reach for the coffee, but he intercept and grabs your elbow. Pulling you closer. "What- kyle--" his hands slides up to your upper back, making you shiver. When you don't pull away, he grins like a schoolboy and starts steering you down the hall. "I have work -!"

"I know, baby, but I really wanna make it up to you. Let me make it up to you." He's speaking quietly as to not alert the secretary a few feet away. He's leading you to the bathroom.

"No! Kyle, I'm at work. Goddammit, I have things to do-"

"No you don't." When you've turned the corner and are out of sight, he slides his hand from your back to your ass, squeezing hard, making you squeak. "And I need you. I woke up so hard. I need your pussy." He's close to whining, tucking his face close to your ear, smelling your hair.

Your voice goes high pitched, flustered, not expecting him to try and cajole you into fucking in a public bathroom. At your workplace no less. "We can't!"

He used to do this when you first started dating; get needy, corner you in some barely secluded place and get you both off one way or another. Quick and dirty. He swore he never fucked anyone else while deployed, and if it wasn't the trust you had in him it was how desperate he seemed to get when he got back that assured you of his faithfulness. Sometimes it was your favourite, just how whiney and flustered he would get. As a treat, if he'd been very good during dinner, you'd wake him up by sucking him off the morning he got back. Surely he had missed that this morning, what with how fast he'd led you to the employee bathroom. Good.

He locks the door behind you, and you let him kiss you a little. You don't see him put your food down, but he must because both his hands squeeze your waist. You rub your thighs together to soothe the pulsing arousal building in your belly.

You hand goes to his chest, pushing him. He's so strong, it takes you slapping his chest and shoulders to move back, panting. "We can't, I'm serious. Do you want me to get fired?"

He licks his lips, not even looking you in the eye. "You won't get fired, baby. Just be quiet. Let me take care of you-" you interrupt him by grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks hard, making his lips pucker up.

"Can you not think with your cock? Couldn't you have dropped lunch off and waited for me back home like a good boy?"

He slides his big hands down your waist to your hips, tilting his hard cock so its pressed against you. Despite you holding him, he walks you both forward until your back hits the wall and he can grind against you hard. "Kyle- I'm not kidding," you say sternly, but don't move away. His cock rubs deliciously against your mons, not quite where you want it, but a good enough tease that your breath shudders out in a moan.

"Please, please, let me," he begs, grinding. Pressing his body right up to yours. You acquiesce a little, moving your hand from his face to down his pants and into his boxers. "Hrmmn-nn fuck, fuck," he whines. Bypassing his dick, you feel him start to hump desperately, like a dog. He shudders hard and you're squashed against the wall as you palm his balls, playing with them a little. You feel wetness drip down your wrist.

"Did you just come?" Honestly, you're delighted, but you make sure your tone is disappointed. Mean. Your pussy squeezes, wets your panties a little more. "Bad boy. I thought you were going to make it up to me?"

"Oh fuck, thank you baby. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you still. Just give me a second."

"No way. Get to work." It's easy to bully him a little when he's so fresh from his orgasm. You push him onto his knees and lift a heel to rest it on that big, muscular thigh.

Your tits feel squashed in your bra as you breathe hard, looking down at him. He pushes his forehead against your stomach, pushing your skirt up while murmuring something into the fabric. You palm yourself, pinch your own nipples through the fabric. Feeling empowered, your hand goes to his hair and you grind your panty covered pussy right on his nose.

"Go on."

He licks you through the fabric, long laps of his tongue. Sucks on where your clit is, wetting the fabric. Kyle grips your thighs and pulls them wider apart, making you teeter dangerously on one heel, the other digging into his leg. He mouths at your panties and bites gently at you while your scratch his scalp and neck.

He moans, and finally pushes your underwear down. You clench as your wetness is exposed to the air, cooling you. Your clit stands up, peeking out of your hood. He gives it a little lick, directly on the underside where you're most sensitive. It makes you jump, not expecting it. He doesn't let you move away, instead wrapping his lips around you and sucking, hard.

"Oh Jesus--" your knees buckle a little, "Kyle, fuck," he pulls back and turns you around forcefully, making you arch. His hand finds your ankle and lifts your leg up and out, tongue finding your cunt once again. He eats you out like he's making out with you, like a sloppy kiss. His other hand squeezes where your ass and thigh meet, spreading you open.

"I missed you so much," he says. "I missed this pretty little cunt. Oh, jesus, I'm hard again." Of course he is - his refractory period has always been quick. This is a new record, though. "Can I fuck you, baby?"

You have to really force your words out, with how he spreads your asscheeks and licks your other hole. "Nn- no. You haven't - haven't earned it yet."

Kyle doesn't say anything to that, just curls his tongue in your ass and let's your ankle go to pinch your clit between two fingers, twisting it. You shout, then go still, remembering where you are. "Kyle --!" It sneaks up on you, how fast your orgasm comes. From your toes to your nipples, electricity shoots through you and tightens your skin. You tremble violently, soaking his fingers and his face. He stands up while you go through the aftershocks, hands stroking your belly and holding you from behind, crowding you and making you feel safe.

Kyle kisses your nape, sucks your earlobe a little. Waits like a gentleman. You lean back against him and squeeze his fingers.

"I'm gonna fuck you now." He's not asking anymore, and you're boneless, so you just spread your legs and let him push his cock into you slowly, enjoying the stretch. It makes you rise onto your tiptoes, letting him take your weight. He rocks into you slowly at first, hands roaming from your stomach to your tits to your throat. Pinching and squeezing, having earned your submission.

"I missed you too," you admit finally, breathily. "I love you, big boy."

Kyle hums, sucking a mark into your neck, picking up his pace. "I love you too." He nibbles on you a little. His thumb finds your asshole again, pushing in, making you whine high and thin. "You gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock? I've been waiting for this, you know. Your pussy feels like home."

Your cunt drips on him, making wet little sounds while he fucks you hard against the wall. You're still sensitive from coming earlier, so you squirm on his cock, squeezing around him. "Come inside me, please," you beg. You need to feel it. He uses his free hand to push your face into the wall, bucking into you once, twice, then holding himself taut as a bowstring. His hips grind minutely against your ass while he comes, flooding your pussy.

Kyle doesn't let you go, just pulls his cock and thumb out quickly, taking advantage of your stupor to cup your pussy and roughly squeeze your clit. You yelp, jumping, but keep your legs spread. Your peak is building again, and he knows it. Two of his big fingers find your stretched hole and push in, curling and rubbing viciously until the pressure builds and builds and your pussy contracts, pleasure slicing through your abdomen painfully. You cover your mouth with your hands just barely in time to shout, knees buckling with your orgasm.

If not for Kyle holding you up, you'd have fallen down to the floor. You shake, feeling cored. He nuzzles you sweetly, licking your ear. His hand pets your pussy gently until you push him away, way too sensitive.

"Can I take you home, babygirl?"

"Yes please," your voice is a croak.

Kyle is a little inconsiderate in this but I hope it didn't read as angst and more playfulness between established partners <3<3 I feel like Kyle is a very noble character and he puts a lot of pressure on himself. Always worrying about what the right thing is. I figure with reader he can let go a little :') reader is a little miffed but she's soft for her man <3

Also I wrote this on my phone between shifts during a 13 hour day so please forgive any typos or grammar mistakes

[naturalbornluvr]

2024 zero day!!

- cal is a "male manipulator"

- andre throws his phone cuz of dti and he bullies the kids in the lobby after he doesn't get podium

- the boys both hate taylor swift

- rachel is a downtown girl or wtv. she loves gilmore girls and the bow trend too

- maddie is a lowk a sephora kid

- eric is a skibidi toilet kid

- brad is one of those stoner pj pants at school guys

- the promgoers all have each other added on airbuds, bereal, all of those kinda apps

[cafecourage]

Speaking of sleepy, caring for sleepy Chain

-Softie

We worked on this on stream long ago. I also made this also one bed. Part 1 has Time, Twilight, and Warriors

_____________

There was a common issue among some of the chain where most all of them have the fatal flaw of not being able to sleep. Some had issues waking up like Sky, Wind, Four and Wild. You quickly found that Legend was among that group but given the incident he went into the latter issue. Which was annoying when dealing with. It was completely opposite problems.

Time:

It was always hard to tell if the Old man was tired as he seemed to be always absolutely exhausted. Which was fair enough since he was dubbed the dad friend in the group thus making him the main person to go to for everything. It’s a wonder how he hasn’t just slept for 7 more years yet.

Still the Hero of Time was probably 3 days in without sleep and thats what you observed. Granted you should have stopped him by day 2. But you weren’t sure if he slept on the days you seen him take first shift and wake up with him being on last shift.

The other boy’s notice it too and while they all appreciate the extra sleep it’s unfair for Time. Warriors is typically the only one that speaks up about it since he isn’t phased by the Older Link’s tough exterior. While it would be embarrassing in hindsight you had to drag Warriors aside to push for you and Time to be in the same room. “I have a plan” is what you tell the captain not letting him know that you in fact, dont have a plan.

Truly the plan is fist fight the old man until he actually sleeps, or lecture him whatever you feel like. At least you will be here in town for a few days to gather supplies and information. So you can at least fix Time’s sleep schedule.

You’re plotting came to an extreme halt as you step into a room with one bed. “This can work.” You say out loud as you dropped your stuff in a corner of the room. “We can share the bed.” It’s not even up for debate at this point.

“Can we?” Time asks as he closes the door “wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” That wouldn’t be the word you would use. “Nah. Unless it makes you uncomfortable. Then I can take the floor.”

The hero gives you a look, one to even dare you to say that again. “If you don’t mind, then I don’t see why fight over it.”

“It I am being real.” You stand up and stretched “you do need it more.” It has been decided. You are lecturing him. “When is the last time you slept a full 8 hours? Heck 6 hours I would accept.”

An eyebrow was raised as he heads inside “I have been fine with the sleep I’ve been getting.” He takes his armor off putting each piece down carefully before finally sitting on the bed. He pats the spot next to him.

You follow his lead as you prepare a long argument. “Ah, yes the zero hou- Ack!” What you didn’t expect was Time to drag you into his lap and lay down.

Your face exploded in a blush as you were now basically his teddy bear. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed you also have trouble sleeping.” He whispered as he was already in the process of wrapping the both of you in the blankets. “Let’s take a nap for now…”

Well… This backfired successfully.

Twilight:

Twilight was one of these Links which, made sense but also didn’t when you found this out. He tries to older brother everyone, he makes sure everyone is asleep before he does. Which takes forever to do and your patience for this man is thinning.

After stopping in a town from a long trek. The group decides to go to the Inn to set up shop. You were already on Twilight to take a nap before dinner. “No. We are going to eat in like 30 minutes.”

Ok.

No.

He isn’t getting out of this and you don’t care you’re in the middle of the lobby. There was something that the chain has yet to learn about you.

You might be short.

But you are strong.

So you marched up to Twilight and despite his struggling you throw the hero over your shoulder and went directly to the room angrily. “Let me down!” Twilight demands of you. However you couldn’t care about it as you open the door kick it close and threw him on the bed. “That was unnecessary.” He said getting up.

“It was very necessary!” You argued back crossing your arms. “When is the last time you properly slept?”

Twilight stays quiet and looks away. He looked like a kicked puppy. “I get enough.”

“According to who? Because everyone else can make an argument that you’re barely getting any to function.” You let out a huff as you should probably be more lenient with him because it’s not really like he is doing something bad. You know from experience that the body could function with little sleep if it’s used to it but it’s not healthy! You didn’t go through classes with a clear mind but you should have! “We are just worried about you.”

The Hero stays quiet but sighs “ok. I understand.” He seems to give up at this point. But he reaches out to take your hand finally letting himself looked exhausted “but… can you stay with me?”

Your eyes soften as he seemed to be more tired than you thought. “Of course I will. Someone has to make sure you stay put.” He teases you.

Warriors: 

After a long day of traveling an inn was a welcoming sight. Since there were ten of you now each room had to have 2 people. Which was sometimes unfortunate for some, but for you in this current moment?

You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity since you (forcably) asked to be Warrior’s pair, only to have there only be one bed. 

Perfect.

Wonderful.

Amazing.

It was instant that you had grabbed Warriors tunic and almost thrown him on to the bed. “Didn’t know you wanted me on the bed that badly, doll.” He was laughing. This man was laughing and he looked like hell. Probably felt like it too as the ever polished captain was showing dark circles under his eyes. His smile was sluggish and his eyes weren’t as sharp as they normally were.

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes as you headed towards him again to help him out of his armor. “You should take better care of yourself. 3 days of barely any sleep? What were you thinking?!”

“That the other boys need some sleep.” There was no hesitation as the stubborn man is proud of himself for killing his sleep schedule. “It’s fine.” “It is not fine.” You didn’t mean to throw his shoulder plate on the carpet. “You better take your chainmail off before I do it for you.”

“What if I rather you do it for me?” The captain fire back without missing a beat. Instantly his face paled “wait-“

“Nope to late come here.” You take his tunic and just… thew it off of him. “Do you want to continue?” This was a threat.

“no…” Warriors voice was silent as he finally got out of what armor he had left. “I should sleep on the floo-“ that suggestion was instantly silent as you glared at him.

Finally when both of you were ready for bed you had put your self on top of him. Cuddling but also if he was going to escape he will have to wake you up first. “this is so you don’t escape.” You said.

“I wont. I wont.” Warriors was a bit hesitant to wrap his arms around you “Thank you.” He whispered as he finally started to relaxed.

“Don’t rely on me to fix your sleep habits.” You said poking his cheek “good night Captain.”

“Good Night Sweetheart.”

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompts #16: Going through immigration and #24: Identity theft.

Guys. Guys, I’ll be honest. I have no idea what possessed me. I think I found these two prompts as some of the most challenging to imagine as a domestic fic, and… my thinking got a little bit too outside the box.

This fic will have an intended audience of about 1 (me). But I want to give major major props to @olliveolly who introduced me to this game and was the one who came up with this That’s Not My Neighbor / Boys crossover AU (with a couple lovely art pieces on the theme). The “lore” of this horror game is very simple. Tell me you don’t see it:

Butchlander. That’s Not My Neighbor crossover/AU. Rated E (why). 3.3k words (why). 2nd person to allegedly reflect the feeling of first-person gameplay (why). Is this domestic fic? Welllllll. It takes place in an apartment complex so it counts, right? Lax interpretation of ‘going through immigration’ but honestly that’s what this game really reminds me of 😂 AO3 link

Another day, another interminable shift working as the concierge in the dreary lobby of this apartment complex. It was exciting at first, sure, what with getting to play the first and last line of defense against the doppelganger monsters that attempt to sneak in every single day. But you’ve just gotten too good at noticing discrepancies. Nothing gets past you anymore. You know every single feature- hell, every single freckle! -of every single resident in the building. By this point you’ve got all their phone numbers memorized, for no better reason than there is simply too much tedium to this job. You find yourself wishing you could actually watch the D.D.D. ‘decontaminate’ the lobby, as they so euphemistically put it, instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs behind a pulled down rollup metal shutter after summoning them. You could still make out screams without seeing the brutality, and you knew the D.D.D. employed flame throwers and other serious weapons to deal with these monsters. Sometimes you caught yourself feeling just a little bit of sympathy for the doppelgangers, even though their main goal in life appeared to be to imitate people to blend in and then feed upon human flesh, and your main goal in life was supposed to be to ensure none of them would ever get let in through the locked inner door.

John Gillman comes in through the first door and gives you a tired, nominal wave before fishing around in his pockets for his documents to gain entry. He might be your favorite resident— always polite, always in that clean-cut milkman uniform at least when you happen to see him, because no one really leaves the apartment building outside of work obligations. There’s no nightlife in New York anymore, not with everyone nervous of dark alleys or being alone on the street, especially after dark. When you came over here from London, you certainly didn’t expect to get stuck here during a worldwide apocalyptic event like this that has resulted in curfews and lockdowns. You certainly didn’t expect to get zero action and get a mindnumbing job just to make ends meet. It was probably still more interesting than your gig working as a bouncer back in London, but at least you got fresh air there, and sometimes a date to go home with after closing time. Maybe that’s why you’ve started hyperfixating and daydreaming about one of the residents— the involuntary celibacy is getting to you.

John just always looks uncannily attractive. Maybe it’s that silly uniform that’s easy to fetishize. Maybe it’s because his tired eyes also look like bedroom eyes, or the dark circles function the same way eyeliner would. Why is he always so tired anyway? You know he lives alone up there in F03-02. He never gets any visitors either. How much can a person masturbate, really? There’s a rumor around the building that Becca Saunders’ tyke might be his, but you don’t really see the resemblance, and have your doubts that this didn’t just start as a “sleeping with the milkman” joke that got out of hand. People just like to gossip about single mothers. Things like this shouldn’t be considered scandalous. It’s 1955 for god’s sake!

“Sorry, William,” John says, hurriedly shoving his ID and entry request form underneath the glass so you can take take a look. “Almost thought I left my ID at work.”

“Long day, huh?” you ask without expecting a reply, pretending to scrutinize the documents while making small talk. You know this is John. You’d know him from a mile away. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun. “Looks okay, and you are on the list of people authorized to come and go today. But can you take off your cap?”

John grabs his milkman cap off his head, exposing a mop of blond hair, looking mussed after being under the hat all day. You really wish you could test him, see how far you’d be able to take things before he refused to cooperate. Take off your shirt, John. Gotta make sure it’s really you. You never know these days. But of course you don’t. All you’ll have is your fantasies about breaching every code of ethics and using your master key to gain entrance into his apartment, seducing him, ravishing him right in the middle of what must be a depressing bachelor pad. Give him much darker undereye circles by keeping him up all night. Give this apartment complex a more interesting rumor to spread about the milkman in their midst.

“You’re good to go,” you say and press the green unlock button to let him in. He gives you a wan smile and walks out of view, and you listen to his footsteps ascending the stairs.

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful, only a few people coming and going, and a couple of doppelgängers with laughably strange appearance or bad credentials being dispatched quickly. Or at least it’s uneventful until John walks in, just a little bit past curfew.

“Hey William,” he says, sounding distracted, rummaging in his pockets for his documents as a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. This better be a doppelganger, you think to yourself. But he has both his ID and the entry request filled out correctly. He looks identical to the John that passed by here a couple of hours earlier. This can’t be.

You start dialing John’s number, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

John’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees that you get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Yes, hello? John here. I’m not expecting any visitors.”

You hang up pretty abruptly, staring at the John in front of you, searching his appearance for any subtle defect or inconsistency but finding none. Your finger is hovering over the alarm button.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you think I’m someone else? It’s me, William! I swear to god it’s me! I don’t know who you let in earlier, and who’s answering the phone now, but it’s not me up there!”

And shit, you believe him. You must have fucked up. Gotten smug and sloppy. Maybe the doppelganger handed you a fake ID but you didn’t notice because you were too busy daydreaming about fucking him.

“William, please believe me, please!” John is pressing up against the glass at this point, clearly scared that you’re going to quarantine him in the lobby and sic the D.D.D. on him. They don’t tend to ask questions. You’ve never had it happen, but you’ve heard of innocent people getting snuffed out on the mere suspicion of being doppelgangers, the D.D.D. rarely admitting to such mistakes even after the fact.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I just have to think…” you mumble. “I’ll let you in, but don’t go up to your flat. We have to figure this out.”

John nods frantically and slips into your office after you buzz him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, and if you weren’t scared shitless at the moment, you’d probably get a kick out of how vulnerable and scared his expression is compared to his usual tired, impassive one.

“I should call the D.D.D. and get them to go up there,” you think out loud.

“Won’t you get reprimanded?” John asks, and oh how sweet of him to worry about your job when you’ve fucked up so royally and almost gotten him killed with your negligence. Maybe already gotten some of his neighbors killed.

“I just don’t want you losing your job over this— you’re the best concierge we have,” he says and then looks down shyly, as if realizing how strange that concern is.

What is this? Are you dreaming? Maybe you’re just out of your mind with adrenaline, but John sounds like he’s got feelings for you.

“Let’s just go up there and see what’s going on,” he says, and damn he’s persuasive as fuck. You want to go and deal with the mess you made, and protect him.

“I’ll go up there and just check,” you say, hardly believing yourself as you grab the fire extinguisher from the wall as a makeshift weapon. Everyone who was scheduled to return to the building has, so you shouldn’t get any more legitimate people coming through, but you still tape up a note that you’ll be back at your post in a few minutes. “Right then. You just stay down here and wait. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. If I’m not back in five, call the number on the post-it.”

John shakes his head and follows you up the stairs. “I’m not letting you go up there alone,” he says in that quiet irresistible voice and you start to wonder if there’s something strange going on. Why are you going on this potentially suicidal mission to deal with a doppelganger on your own? So what if you get fired? No job is worth your life, right? But you probably wouldn’t see John ever again if you lost this job and that’s clouding all your judgment right now.

Knocking on John’s apartment door is probably not a good idea, and will just give the monster inside time to prepare or hide. So you take out your master key and turn it in the lock as quietly and quickly as you can. The door swings opens with an ominous creak, revealing a dark living room with no sign of anyone there. Did he hear you coming up the stairs? You try to keep John behind you and shield him in case anything sudden happens from within the apartment, but then you feel a strong push from behind and both you and John are in the flat now.

You’re so stupid, so critically, fatally stupid. The John you let in earlier was the real one. You’ve let a doppelganger convince you that you made a mistake, and now you did let one in. You whirl around, try to hit him upside the head with the fire extinguisher you’re brandishing, but he blocks the move with little effort.

“I thought we agreed,” he says, and you realize he’s speaking not to you but past you to someone else in the room.

“Thursdays are my days,” an identical voice answers from behind you and you step back and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. Two John Gillmans, both in the same uniform, neither one looking the least bit spooked, both looking mildly irritated if anything.

“Since when,” the John who came up behind you asks of the other one. “I get to be here every other day, doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.”

“So now what are we going to do about him?” the John who was in the apartment asks, pointing to you. “Why didn’t you just leave once he called me? Are you stupid?”

Your heart may be racing, but your thinking feels as slow as molasses. They’re …. both doppelgangers?

“What have you done with the real John Gillman?” you whisper hoarsely. The twins turn to look at you and you’re creeped out by the very similar smirk that spreads across both of their faces. They’re really impeccable facsimiles of the real person, but this is an expression you’ve never seen on John.

“You’ve never met the ‘real John Gillman’,” one of them says.

There’s enough cold sweat that’s broken out on your back that it starts to trickle down as drops.

“We like you William. It would be such a shame for our friendship to end.”

You hold up the fire extinguisher in front of yourself defensively, but you’re not sure you can really do anything against two of them. You’ve never noticed before, and maybe the real John’s teeth didn’t look like this, but the two doppelgangers have sharp looking canines when they’re grinning. It’ll serve you right to get devoured in this dark flat for making so many mistakes and bad decisions in a row today.

“So you’re just going to kill me then?” you ask.

“We’d really rather not,” one of the twins says. “A murder would bring a lot of snooping law enforcement if not the D.D.D. Itself.”

“And it’s so hard to find good lodging to spend the night.”

They must be joking. “You really expect me to believe you’re not just here to eat people?”

One of the twins rolls his eyes. “Eat people! Yeah, that’s why we’re here, clearly.”

“Has anyone in this apartment building ever disappeared in all the months you’ve worked here?” the other one asks.

“How should I know?” You’re beginning to feel like this has to be some sick nightmare. You can’t possibly be having a civil conversation with a couple of cannibal monsters. This thought has a strange calming effect on you. “If I didn’t know you lot were masquerading as John Gillman, how am I to know how many other residents are real people?”

The twins turn to each other, still smiling and shrugging.

“We’ve been on a vegetarian diet for a while,” the other says and you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” the other one says, spreading his hands in concession. “But milk is more than enough to sustain us. We do think people are delicious, but there’s one thing we like much more than eating them.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, emboldened by the possibility that you’re just in a ridiculous, paranoid, bad dream of a worst case scenario at your job.

“We’ve been watching you William. We think you’ve been interested in us.”

“We’ve never fucked anyone from this building, and never fucked together, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

You just stand there, fire extinguisher still raised up defensively. No question about it, this must be a nightmare that’s slowly but surely twisting itself into a sexual fantasy.

“Come on, William. Let’s make you comfortable.”

You can hardly protest as one gently pulls your makeshift weapon out of your loose grip, and the other one sweeps you off your feet with preternatural superhuman ease and carries you over to the couch in this sparsely furnished apartment.

Gentle but insistent hands undo the buttons on your trousers and then maneuver you so they can pull them off completely and free your legs.

“Humans are such fun creatures,” one of the Johns comments when he sees that despite your fear of the situation unfolding right now, you are sporting a half-hearted hard-on. It somehow only gets harder when you hear them talk about people as another species.

Both Johns are still fully dressed, situating themselves to kneel on the floor on either side of you. It’s wild. You must be dreaming. And as you watch both Johns lean forward, extending their tongues and licking your cock up and down from opposite sides, you realize that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

They know what they’re doing. They bring you right up to the edge of orgasm and then pull away, leaving you feeling desperate and even annoyed. You’re not annoyed for long though as they both strip down, and you see that their human-mimicking powers are perfect, down to the most minute details that would never be seen under clothes. Granted, you don’t know what John Gillman looked like naked, so maybe they’ve taken artistic license and embellished. Whatever it is, they’ve compared notes, because they still look indistinguishable to you.

“Like what you see?” one of them asks and you realize you I’ve been staring, maybe even with your mouth hanging open. You never imagined you’d hook up with a doppelganger, let alone two of them at once. But you have imagined foisting yourself on John in this very flat, and you’re about to live that daydream.

You end up doing things with the two of them beyond what you’ve ever dreamed of. You fuck one of them, and at the same time get fucked by the other one from behind, the cheap bed’s metal joints creaking and moaning from the motion of three bodies rocking against each other. You let them suck your cock and rim you to get you back in the mood for another round, trying not to think about how unsettlingly hungry they both look, and who they really are underneath the human-looking exterior. The exterior slips periodically when they’re in the throes of pleasure. You wince when they betray just how strong they really are, whenever they flip you over or change positions, as if you weigh nothing. You try not to pay attention when their eyes start glowing red when they’re particularly turned on, but it’s impossible to ignore in the darkness of the bedroom.

“William, you are fucking delicious,” one of them declares, licking his lips obscenely after swallowing down your cum, and all you can do is emit a short nervous chuckle, and think that even if they do decide to eat you at the end of all of this— either to cover their tracks, or just because they might start feeling peckish after all this is over— it will still have been worth it.

You don’t get eaten. In fact, you’ve had the time of your life, and as you get up from the bed and mumble that you have to get back to your post before your shift is over, the two Johns lie languid, naked on the bed watching you, each enjoying a post coital glass of milk (that’s all they have in the fridge— you saw when they opened it), like perfect mirror images.

“You won’t be making any unnecessary phone calls, right William?”

“We can count on you to be discreet and keep a secret, right?”

Through the combined haze of being scared for your life and then having the time of your life, there’s still one thing that bothers you, and you ask about it, against all your best self-preservation instincts.

“So what have you done with the real John Gillman?”

They turn to look at each other, not exactly conspiratorial but it still makes you uneasy.

“Oh, John Gillman never existed. We’ve been around a lot longer than you humans think. Many of us never tried to replicate and replace real humans.”

“Yeah, and a lot of good that did when some of us started! The ones who are doing it are the reason we’re being hunted now. Unoriginal hacks. And so bad at mimicking too.”

“So many embarrassing ones out there.” They both nod at each other.

You’d like to believe them. You really would. “So why choose this persona?”

“The milkman gets free milk and gets around in your society! And humans seem to like this look,” one of them says, grinning and gesturing with his hand over their naked bodies.

“But we only ever get to enjoy bored housewives.”

“And why are there two of you?” you ask hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the wall to verify that you’re not late yet.

“Oh there’s more than two of us,” one of them says and they laugh in unison in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

~~~

You think you’ve got it all worked out. You’re letting the John Gillmans stay in the apartment undisturbed, and you let them through even when it’s obvious that there’s more than one of them coming and going. You figure it’s a win-win. They promise to protect the building from any rogue doppelgangers who infiltrate and intend to harm the residents, and in return get a place to stay the night peacefully. You get to visit apartment F03-02 after your shift ends and have mind-blowing sex. They seem to enjoy the orgies as well. They know your shift hours and try to only come and go during those times. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this arrangement.

Or at least not a problem that you’re going to make into your problem. When one of the Johns walks in, visibly smeared in blood, you do give him a hard time.

“Come on, John. Just because I’ll let you in, doesn’t mean you can just stop trying to look decent. God forbid I call in sick and someone else is here.”

John shrugs and goes through the formality of pushing his ID and entry request under the glass window.

“And get a new ID…” you tell him when you see bloody fingerprints all over the worn paper.

John shrugs, doing his usual tired act, despite how ridiculous it looks to be so bored and nonchalant when he’s smeared in blood.

“Whose blood is that, anyway?” you ask, wondering why you’re not more disturbed.

“Someone who was of no consequence and who won’t be missed,” John replies, terse and cool as a cucumber.

“I thought you said you were vegetarian?”

“I’ll take a cheat day if I run into a wifebeater,” John says, shrugging.

You buzz him in, telling him to get washed up before someone sees him, wondering if you’re being colossally naive to believe his story, and wondering if you’ve got a death wish because you’re still looking forward to going up there once your shift ends in a few hours.

(What in the world. 💀)

ETA: now with another art piece by @olliveolly

[swissboyhisch]

Bubba's First Game

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Reader

Summary:  Unbeknownst to the public, Luke has a baby and it's time for both of theirs first NHL game.

Word Count: 542

Warnings: kids.

SWISSBOYHISCH MASTERLIST

Tonight was Luke’s first game for the New Jersey Devils. His first NHL game. Not only were his parents in the crowd but his girlfriend and a couple of his teammates made the journey to Newark to celebrate. It was going to be a big night for the Hughes family.

Unbeknownst to the public, Luke and you had a beautiful baby girl. Nicknamed Bubba by all her uncles. She was only 6 months old. Living proof that birth control wasn’t 100% effective. But she was the most loved baby in the world. Her grandparents loved her to bits along with the hordes of uncles she had from the UMich team and the Devs. Including her two actual uncles who spoil her to bits.

After you dressed Bubba into her custom jersey, you in yours as well, you went down to the lobby to meet Ellen, Jim and the boys in the lobby. Ellen immediately cooed at the sight of Bubba in her father’s jersey.

“Oh look at her.”

You were happy to hand her off to her grandmother while you got to chat to Dylan, Mark and Ethan. You all made your way down the street towards the Prudential Centre. The hotel was only a couple blocks from the rink. 

“My turn,” Ethan stated, holding his hands out for Bubba. 

Bubba was handed around the group. She just loved the attention, being such a bubbly little girl. When you guys got the the arena, you held Bubba while you guys made your way up to the suite Jack had organised for you. If it wasn’t for the six month old, you guys would have probably been in the crowd but Luke and Jack didn’t want anything to go wrong. Didn’t want you or Bubba to be hurt. 

When the countdown neared zero for warmups, you walked down to the glass with Bubba in your arms. Luke didn’t know you were planning on being at the glass during his rookie lap. Well he didn’t know about that until Jack made sure he got the solo lap. 

You held Bubba on the ledge. Her headphones made her look smaller than she already was. She looked around the ice, enamoured with all the stimuli. Then Luke was announced to be doing his rookie lap. He took to the ice circling before spotting you at the end. The rest of the team joined him and Jack made his way to where Luke was standing in front of you. Bubba recognised her Dad immediately, trying to bounce and get to him. Then Uncle Jack was there and she went crazy. Two of her favourite people were right in front of her. 

Then she realised she can’t be held by either of them and she started to cry. You laughed, cradling her before waving goodbye to the brothers in front of you. Staying down there for a couple extra minutes to soak in Luke warming up with the team. You got a fan to take a couple pictures of you holding Bubba. 

Once you were back in the suite, you got comfortable between Ellen and Dylan. Bubba passed out pretty quick after a bottle. Leaving you all to enjoy Luke’s first NHL game for the New Jersey Devils.

yourinsta just posted!

Liked by lhughes, umichhockey and others

yourinsta: Daddy's first game with the Devs and Bubba's first NHL game ❤️

view all comments

yourbestie: how stinking cute is bubba

jackhughes: thank god for the padding. Lukey boy doesn't look like a bean pole.

lhughes: rude.

elhughes: ahhh this is so cute!

lhughes: love my girls forever ❤️

dylanduke: my favourite niece!

yourinsta: your only niece my dude

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[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey! So this is our first chapter from the perspective of reader! The use of Bug is just as a nickname I find cute. Also pls remember reblogs are appreciated !

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

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Chapter 2 

Bug’s POV 

When the semester started, you thought everything was flowing well. Your job as a Resident Assistant was rewarding though stressful, your professors were generally pretty easy going, and you had signed up for the easiest class to take in order to complete your art credit. 

At least, you thought you had. 

You had come into the classroom on the first day, only to find empty seats, panic overcoming your senses. 

You had quickly emailed the professor, hoping maybe she’d respond soon. 

She hadn’t replied until that Friday. 

You had opened the email on the desk computer while still at work, trying to complete small tasks and homework while the dorm lobby was quiet. Just reading the first few sentences, you felt your stomach drop to the floor. 

The class had been dissolved, not enough students signing up for the History of Women in Art course. You felt panic bubble up in you as you scrambled to email your advisor, forwarding them the email and asking for a meeting to discuss further what to do. You refrained from including a rant about misogyny and how feminine influences were often undermined and ignored, although you felt an itch to do so. 

You really didn’t care about it at the moment, truth be told, but were more so worried about graduating soon. You had planned to finish your art elective and put your nose to the grind on your major, working hard to finish within the next year. 

You couldn’t start those advanced courses, however, without this last art elective course. 

You sighed with relief as your advisor emailed you back quickly, asking you to meet with her on Monday so you could discuss alternative options and classes. You got back to doing your homework and helping residents, humming as you went.

Hopefully, you’d be back on track soon.

“I’m afraid all the other courses are filled up,” She stated, her expression apologetic, her hands folded in front of her like a prayer. 

You felt your mouth go dry. 

Full? 

You could kiss early graduation and your money goodbye. How were you supposed to graduate on time and have your loans forgiven if you couldn’t even do this one measly course? 

“There’s gotta be something,” You offered weakly, your palms clammy as you tried to wipe your hands on your jean covered thighs. 

She pursed her lips, brows pinched in thought as she sighed. “Well there is one course. It’s got a few spaces empty. But it’s a music course and requires an instrument. It is for beginners though. You’d be at a disadvantage but…” 

You perked up, your heart pounding. You were notoriously bad at instruments. You had attempted to take up orchestra in middle school, only to find out that you had zero patience to practice and stick with the skill. Plus, cellos were heavy. 

But, you were desperate. 

A determined look fell over your face as you nodded. 

“Where do I sign up?” 

You had signed up for the course, your advisor vouching for you to the professor, who seemed a bit concerned at you coming in two weeks late but had decided to trust you. You rented a guitar from the local music store, The Ghost Note, and picked the cheapest option. 

The first day you had come into class you could feel your nerves tingling. You had gotten in, but now you just had to pass. You wouldn’t be too stressed if Professor Howard hadn’t told you about the in person tests they took, which essentially consisted of doing a short set of chords and proving that you could read the sheet music. 

You sat down, opening your guitar case and pulling the huge and foreign feeling instrument into your lap. You had settled in when a tumble of limbs and hair rushed into the seat next to you. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, seeing a tall and lean man with unruly curls pulled back into a loose bun throw off a worn out black backpack. He was quite a character, dressed in black ripped jeans, worn out combat boots on his feet, and a faded out Misfits band tour shirt, while a distressed and patched up black jean jacket lay over it. He wore a lot of chains and silver jewelry, his nails painted black in contrast. He seemed to settle into his seat, pulling out his guitar from a case customized in stickers just as much as his jacket, the white paint against the darker and well worn wood catching your attention. 

THIS MACHINE SLAYS Dragons, it read in sloppy handwriting, the last word not all in capitals like its predecessors, indicating that whoever had hand painted it had miscalculated how much space they had. You felt a smile tug at your lips. It was clearly a fantasy play on Woody Guthrie’s famous anti-fascist guitar. It was amusing and almost endearing that this very tall and intimidating alternative musician had referenced an old folk singer in the nerdiest way. 

You found your mouth opening before you could stop yourself. 

“A Guthrie fan, huh?,” You joked, catching his attention. 

He looked at you, and you felt your throat tighten and your face burn with heat. Oh. He was attractive. He had full brows set in a slight pinched expression over big doe brown eyes, and pink full lips, slight scruff on his face like he had just forgotten recently to shave. His eyes were scanning you, almost like he was trying to figure you out. You swallowed, your mouth drier than the desert. He opened his mouth to speak right as your professor came up to the front of the class, catching the mystery boy’s attention again. 

You sighed in relief, fidgeting in your chair to get comfortable with the large instrument once again and try to calm the fire alight in your chest. Maybe this class wouldn’t be too bad. 

You took it back. You hated this class. About 15 minutes in, you felt your fingers begin to cramp and the heat traveled from the back of your neck to the very tips of your ears. The cute man seated next to you had his nose scrunched up and lips pulled down in a frown at every dissonant chord you strummed. You couldn’t help but feel bitter, his fingers gliding over the neck of the guitar as if it was second nature. 

What the hell. 

By the end of the class, you felt like your hand was rusted metal, all creaky and stiff. You kept flexing your fingers and wincing. 

You noticed Professor Howard getting ready to leave and leaped up, walking over to ask about tutoring. You clearly would need help and as much as it killed you to ask for help to learn how to just strum a few strings, you couldn’t risk failing. 

“Hey…So I am so grateful you let me in this class, Mr. Howard. I know it’s late and all, what with me being behind two weeks. But I have to be honest, I am not… the most musically inclined. I just was wondering if you have any tutoring, or offer some help outside of class?,” You asked politely, trying to hide your nervous fidgeting. 

Mr. Howard furrowed his bushy brown brows, wearing his confusion as clear as day on his face. “Tutoring? For beginning guitar?,” He questioned, his tone suggesting that it was almost as ridiculous as suggesting that male media arts majors stop praising films like Citizen Kane as ‘gospel’. (You’d seen it yourself, once suggesting to a casual date your freshman year that it wasn’t your favorite movie, only to be met with a 30 minute rant about your taste in ‘films’ and how you were ‘uncultured’.) 

You felt the embarrassment sink in as you laughed a little, your hands making big gestures as you spoke, a nervous habit. “Yeah, I know. I just struggle with the chords and placing my fingers, and I really want to be successful in this course-” 

Mr. Howard cut you off with a gently raised hand and an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I don’t do tutoring. At least not for this course. You are welcome to rent out the space to practice on your own time. Otherwise I suggest maybe approaching a classmate for help,” He offered gently. 

Panic settled into your skin, you swallowed as your throat felt tight. You hated talking to strangers and didn’t know a soul in this class. You tried to smile, feeling it falter, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. Fuck. 

“Please, Mr. Howard, I don’t know anyone in this course and I can’t risk failing-” 

He frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he sighed, clearly wanting to help. “Well, I’m sure Mr. Munson would be more than happy to help. He teaches private lessons at The Ghost Note and my niece takes them. He’s probably the best student I’ve had in this class,” He gestured toward the classroom and you turned. It was the mystery man who sat next to you cringing at your playing the entire class, slowly packing away his things. The moment your eyes landed on him, it was like someone hit the gas in his brain, as he shrugged on his bag quickly and briskly walked towards the door. 

You nodded and thanked Mr. Howard for his help, backing up slowly to grab your things and race out of there. You grabbed everything, racing out the door, seeing him briskly trying to exit the building. You felt the flutter of nerves as you raced to catch up, your guitar case repeatedly hitting your thighs and definitely leaving a bruise, but you didn’t have time to concern yourself with it. 

“Hey! Wait!,” You shouted, the noise echoing in the hallways of the building. 

He winced at the noise, but stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face you. 

You stopped in front of him, your guitar case dropped helplessly to the floor as you were hunched over, getting out the words before you could catch your breath. 

“Look, I know I play like shit and my guitar is a very shitty rental, but I need to take this class in order to graduate early, because it’s my last non-major course, and all the other art electives are filled up. Professor Howard said you’re like the most talented student in the class and that his niece has you private tutor her at the music store, and I really really need an A in this class. So…Can you help me? Please?,” You breathlessly spilled out, huffing from having to chase after him, your hands on your knees. 

You looked up at him, seeing his clearly irritated expression, his mouth in that frown again. Your eyes begin to sting again as panic overwhelms you and your thoughts race, your hands shaking at your sides. 

Well, you're going to fail. You’ll fail, be unable to graduate next year, lose the loan forgiveness, and have to pay for everything out of pocket and maybe even drop out. Long gone are your hopes of being an independent adult and -

He looked down at you, his expression hard at first before softening as he saw you. He seemed to explore your face before biting his lip, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

 “Alright. I’ll help you.” 

You exchanged numbers and details with the strangely attractive musician, him typing his name in your phone as Eddie with a little skull and crossbones emoji. You simply wrote Bug with a goofy caterpillar emoji on his very cracked and old smartphone. When he looked at you confused as he glanced at the contact, given that it wasn’t the name you’d told him, you shrugged. 

“It’s a nickname I’ve had since I was a kid. Short for lovebug, I guess. That or because I am actually deathly afraid of insects and everyone thinks that it’s hilarious,” You joked, smiling shyly. 

He nodded, a slight smirk on his face as he nodded and pocketed his phone. “Well, I gotta head out, but I’ll text you my schedule so we can find a time to practice and work on your fingering.” 

You felt your skin grow hot before you remembered that fingering was a term for guitarists talking about moving your fingers while playing chords. You could imagine that your facial expression was something of both horror and embarrassment because Eddie laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his toothy smile revealed the dimples on either side of his mouth. 

He walked backward out the doors, giving you a mock salute, the boyish grin still on his face. “Later, Bug.”

You had texted Eddie back and forth a few times, learning that he messaged like an old man. Periods, correct punctuation and full sentences. It would be painful if it wasn’t so amusing. 

You had settled on meeting up on Friday afternoons after your shift at your second job, The Recycling Bin, a reused book store. Eddie sent you the apartment complex address and number, letting you know he’d meet you outside the building. 

You showed up after work, probably still smelling like old pages and dust, struggling to wrangle the guitar out of the backseat of your tiny car, waddling over to the building he was leaning against the outside of. He had one foot against the brick wall, and a hand rolled cigarette in between his fingers, leaning his head back against the brick to blow the smoke into the air. You felt your chest get tight, your thighs shaking a bit as you walked over. You hated the smell, but couldn’t deny the way that his head fell back, exposing his neck, didn’t make you feel some… things. 

He pushed off the wall, looking over toward you and smiling, throwing his cigarette down to put it out with the toe of his boot before walking over. He was dressed in an oversized black sweatshirt with the Hawkins University logo on it despite the mild weather, the elbows hand patched with green flannel to match the dark green letters across his chest. He had his hair down this time, allowing you to see the long curls. 

“Hey Bug,” He smiled at you, before glancing down at the guitar case in your hand as if it offended him. His nose scrunched up in a way that reminded you of a toddler grossed out by his vegetables. “You brought that piece of scrap wood?” 

You frowned a bit, glaring up at him. “I’ll have you know, Munson, that I rented this from your workplace. So blame your coworkers.” 

He nodded, smiling boyishly before taking the case from you, leading the way up the stairs to his apartment. “I actually do,” He joked. “I bet Rick let you rent this thing, he’s always stoned at work.” 

You recalled that the man who serviced you did seem a bit dopey, his eyes slightly tinged red. You had kinda written it off as him being tired. You should’ve known better. 

When he reached his door, he rummaged in his pocket, fishing out a key and unlocking it. He stepped inside, opening the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in, Bug,” He smiled, allowing you to enter the small apartment, your eyes exploring his space. “Shoes off, please,” He politely chided, toeing off his own combat boots. You did the same, taking off your sneakers to leave you in your socks and placed them neatly by his haphazardly taken off shoes. You looked over toward him, seeing that he was headed with your guitar to the couch, but something else caught your eye. The big scary alternative man who smoked and wore torn and patched up clothes had on black socks covered in red D20 dice, the die of choice for tabletop roleplaying game enthusiasts. You knew this because your friend had briefly been interested in Dungeons and Dragons, talking to you about the game when she had been trying to convince you to join her party. You felt a smile creep on your face as Eddie looked at you confused from the worn out gray fabric couch, his brows furrowed. 

“What’re you looking at me like that for?” 

You grinned mischievously, walking over toward the couch, and taking a seat. 

Eddie gave you a look that read ‘okay, you’re weird’, shaking his head and strumming the guitar while humming, turning the pegs to adjust the sound. 

“So…You’re a big fantasy and TTRPG nerd, huh?,” You asked innocently, laughing when Eddie’s head shot up, his cheeks dusted a dark pink. 

“What?”

You pointed down at his socks which were slightly hidden since he was sitting cross legged on the couch. “There’s D20’s on them. And your guitar says ‘slays dragons’.” 

Eddie huffed, a slight hardness coming over his face, walls coming up. You frowned, not meaning to make him feel self conscious, just wanting to lightly tease him because you thought it was cute. “So what,” he grumbled, paying attention to tuning your guitar once again. 

You shook your head, smiling softly, trying to fight the embarrassment you felt at the mistake while wiping off clammy hands on your dark jeans. “No, it’s just… It’s…cute. Like, you don’t try to hide it, even though your clothes read like you’re trying to be big and scary, I guess?” You shrug, feeling nerves swirl in your stomach. “Sorry, that doesn’t make much sense. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” 

Eddie softly glanced up from his tuning of your guitar, eyes no longer hard but now a soft expression before he glanced back down, messing with the pegs once again. “ S’okay,” He softly mumbled, his cheeks now a soft pink. 

You allowed your eyes to travel the apartment as he finished tuning the guitar, his humming providing a soft background to your silence. There was a TV on a dark wooden stand in the middle, and a big progress pride flag behind it. A coffee table sat in front of you and Eddie, on it a few card decks and it seemed like board games underneath. There was a corkboard on the wall by you, covered in polaroids and photographs of Eddie and some other people. Occasionally you spotted places you recognized from town. 

On the right side of the corkboard was a white dry erase board that seemed to work as a weekly calendar covered in doodles and two different types of handwriting. You could just barely make out some of the phrases, like ‘Band Rehearsal’ and ‘Basketball Practice’. Some of the board seemed to state what chores were done that week, explaining why the apartment was probably the neatest you’d seen in a while. 

“I think I got it,” Eddie stated, interrupting your light exploration of the apartment. 

“Awesome,” You nodded, grabbing the guitar from him as he stood, turning toward the hallway. 

“Gimme a sec,” He called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back with Guthrie.” 

You grinned, amused by the fact that he named his guitar, and after an old folk singer at that. 

Eddie came back into the room, sitting down with his guitar in his lap, smiling softly towards you. “Alright kid, let’s get crackin’...” 

You had spent about an hour and a half just going over four chords. Your fingers were sore, your hands cramping. You sighed as you finished going over the G chord for the 20th time. Eddie was a much stricter teacher than you expected. He made you repeatedly go through the fingering over and over before even starting to strum, making you start over if you messed up. But it was paying off. You had ended the lesson by being able to go through four chords and barely mess up, only faltering a bit. 

You placed the guitar back in the case, sinking into the couch as Eddie chuckled and came back from the kitchen with a glass of water, handing it to you. You gladly took it, thanking him and taking a sip.

“You did good, Bug. Definite improvement from class,” He joked, flopping down on the couch next to you as you set down the drink. 

“Yeah, well, I had no idea my guitar was out of tune. Thanks for your help, by the way,” You smiled softly at him. 

You both sat for a minute in silence, unsure of what to say, when Eddie’s stomach growled loudly for what you swore felt like a whole minute, causing you both to burst out in fits of laughter, you falling over toward Eddie as he doubled over. His laughter was contagious and caused you to giggle even more, your sides becoming sore as your eyes filled with tears. Eventually, you two caught your breath and you sighed, smiling over at him. 

“Wanna go get some dinner? It’s on me.”

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chapter 8: Hart

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.2k next

A month went by. Things were returning to normal at the hospital. It was business as normal, no pop up visits from your father. Corazon stopped coming by, which you expected. He did threaten you with a gun, after all. He also seemed to have zero trust in you now just because of who your father is - which is exactly why you had taken a different last name in the first place. To avoid natural distrust just because of your namesake. 

You also found yourself missing his little visits. It was always a breath of fresh air to see him standing in your lobby or doing something stupid. It always put a smile on your face and he just made you feel so at ease. Hell, you didn’t even see him outside of work. It seemed whatever game Fate had been playing, she was finished with it. 

Even the receptionists seemed to miss him. Not only were they unable to see their real life soap opera playing out in front of their very eyes, but they did enjoy his company. He was always so kind and polite to them.  You heard that he had also brought them some flowers once.

You even overheard Law talking about it with Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin. “I just don’t know what happened,” you had heard Law say, feeling your entire body freezing. He was just around the corner from you and you knew that you shouldn’t be listening, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were almost holding your breath to make sure that you didn’t make any noise.

“Really fumbled that one, honestly,” Penguin said, folding his arms and shaking his head.

“He was so into them. Now he won’t even talk about them. I tried to ask and he just shut me out.” You could hear the concern in Law’s voice. “It’s all so irritating.” He clicked his tongue.

“You don’t think the doctor rejected him do you?” Shachi asked, gasping and covering his mouth.

“No, I don’t think so. I would’ve had a moping Cora to deal with. Not…whatever the hell this is.” Law sighed. “He honestly hasn’t acted like this in a long time.”

“Maybe a new factor came in we didn’t know about?” Bepo suggested. “Something that could be a deal breaker?”

“I don’t know. There didn’t seem to be anything that happened that could’ve done that. I mean, all that happened was that y/n’s dad showed up and-”

Bepo gasped, covering his mouth in shock with whatever revelation he had. “Do you think their father threatened Cora?” 

Law scoffed, shaking his head. “Definitely not. Even if he tried, nothing scares him. At least not like that.”

The four of them shared a collective sigh and you took that as your cue. You rounded the corner. “Hey, boys.” They all jumped, looking at you with wild eyes. They were in such a state of panic that you had to keep yourself from laughing.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “What? Did something happen?”

“No, doctor!” They all chimed, scattering in different directions. Well, Shachi and Penguin ran right into each other before scittering off. You watched with amusement, but couldn’t help but think about what Law said.

Had Corazon really been that into you? You didn’t understand it. You didn’t see it, but you supposed they saw more from the outside looking in. Pain settled into your heart and you just sighed. This was no time to be sad about it. You had a hospital to run. Besides, you didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself to keep the disappointment at bay.

“Code Magenta.” A voice boomed over the speakers. Your eyes widened and you immediately began to run through the hospital as panic set in. You heard a couple of people ask what that meant as it’s a code not often used and especially not on this side of the hospital. You heard a few people just brushed it off, saying it’s just a special code for you - which wasn’t completely wrong.

Code Magenta meant that there was a life threatening emergency involving a child on the underground side of things. You only had this code one other time in the years that you’ve been in this hospital. The child had been involved with a domestic situation. You were able to save her and provide safe passage for her and her father out of that lifestyle. You occasionally received letters from them, updating you on things.

The last time you were barely able to save the child, you just hoped you’d be able to this time as well. You also knew that you wouldn’t have to worry about your hospital because Marco would step in while you were away. You could have your full attention on whatever the situation was.

And it was terrible.

A child was caught in the middle of a crossfire. A deal gone wrong and for some reason, they had brought their child. This is why you hated the fact that this lifestyle included their children or indoctrinated them at such a young age. There were plenty of ways to prepare a child for such a lifestyle without putting them in danger. You hated the lifestyle and wish children weren’t involved in any way, but such was life.

You immediately went into surgery. You spent hours just trying to keep this kid alive; removing bullets, sewing them up, mending broken bones, everything. You did everything in your power to help this kid.

But it wasn’t enough. 

The wounds were too great, the child too small. Most doctors would’ve declared him a lost cause the moment they laid eyes on him, but not you. You didn’t care how little of a chance he had of surviving, you were going to do everything in your power to try. After all, if you had that kind of thought process, you wouldn’t have been able to save Law all those years ago or the other small child that ended up coming through here.

Because of that mentality, your hospital mortality rate was incredibly low - you’ve only lost a few patients over the years. However, that mentality was also a double edged sword. Due to the fact that you cared so much and were so determined to defy odds, it also completely destroyed you every time you failed. You blamed yourself for not being good enough and that it was your fault they died. Which wasn’t the case, it wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could, but it always took you a minute to see that.

Marco also knew this. When he was trying to come up with some excuse for Robin and Law as they asked questions to what Code Magenta was and being too good at seeing through his lies, a voice boomed over the intercom once more. “Code Azure.” Now Marco was the one running across the hospital. Law and Robin called after him, but he was too quick and lost them almost immediately. Again, people were whispering and asking what it meant. Again, those who knew brushed it off saying it was a special code for Marco, which was true.

Code Azure was everything he needed to know. It was similar to Code Cyan, where you were emotional and needed him to keep you from losing it. This one was on a greater scale. That meant that no, you didn’t succeed and you were about to actually lose it. He just hoped it made it in time. 

You had a certain habit when this happened. A habit he had down. Typically, you’d start spiraling almost immediately. You’d grow numb and become a robot. Then you’d disappear. Never for very long and typically you ended up at a bar. The only tricky part was that you never went to the same bar, so he always had to hunt you down. Also you tended to be more rambunctious and squirmy when you drank, so just dealing with you in that kind of state was something he was trying to avoid. 

When he arrived on the other side, one of the nurses sighed before shaking their head. “They’re already gone.” 

Marco groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Why didn’t you stop them?” He glared at the nurse who licked her teeth and grimaced at him.

“It’s not like they exactly leave in the most conspicuous manner, you know this. One moment they’re there, the next they’re not.” With that, they left Marco to his own devices. He couldn’t just leave right now. There were still some things to take care of before he could leave. He also knew Law and Robin were probably waiting for an explanation. 

He pulled out his phone, texting his father to let him know the current situation. Pops could start looking while he finished things up here. It shouldn’t take him too long.

--

You weren’t exactly sure how you got here. One moment the single toned beep was ringing in your ears and now you were trying to figure out how the hell you were going to get home. You weren’t sure how much you drank, you never did when this happened. It was like you clocked out of your body for some hours and when you came back, someone else had taken the wheel and crashed.

You slowly slid from your seat, the world around you spinning. You held on to the edge of the bar, blinking hard as you tried to gather yourself. Fuck, you hated drinking. This is why you never did it, but this was just what you did every time. As if you were punishing yourself for something that was out of your control. Actually, that’s exactly what it was. You knew it was bad, you knew it was unhealthy, but you just felt like you couldn’t control it.

You took another deep breath, your world still spinning but you were able to handle it now. “You sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?” the bartender asked, looking at the state of you. You shook your head. “I’m gonna just walk it off. Some fresh air might do me good.”

The man just looked at you rather skeptically.

“And I don’t want to end up vomiting in someone’s car,” you mumbled. The bartender snorted, nodding. “There’s the truth I was looking for. At least you’re considerate. Just be careful on your way, okay?”

You nodded, offering a very drunken salute before stumbling out the door.

The cold air hit you like a slap in the face. You immediately felt everything coming up and rushed over to the bushes, unleashing whatever you had been putting into your stomach for the last couple of hours. Man, how did you do so much damage in so little time? What time even was it right now? Did you even have your phone?

Once you were done with that, you felt a whole lot better. The world was still tilted and moving slightly but you were able to stand up straight for the most part. Marco was going to kill you. You groaned, double checking yourself. You had your phone - which was dead, keys, and wallet. You manage to not upchuck all over yourself. Things were okay for now. You assumed your car was at the hospital. At least you had enough sense in your dazed state to walk instead of drive.

You started walking - well, stumbling - down the sidewalk. You moved slowly as if you were learning how to walk again. It didn’t take long before you were somewhat able to walk for the most part. 

At least, that’s what you thought before you tripped over yourself. There was no saving yourself. You braced yourself for impact only for it to never come. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground not far from your face. What the hell? That’s when you realized someone had you by the collar of your shirt.

You felt yourself being picked up and tossed over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There’s only one person who it could be. Everything hit you all at once and Marco was the only person you really could unleash everything on. “Marco, I’m so sorry,” you grumbled, feeling the tears well up. “I tried everything I could, but it wasn’t enough.” You felt the tears start to fall. “Everything is just going wrong. I thought it was fine. Things would be fine, but it isn’t. I don’t know what’s going on.” You kept your face covered, laying limply over his shoulder as you sobbed. 

“He was so small, Marco.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “So small. His wounds were too great. They were for an adult, not a child. I went into this to save children, but I wasn’t able to. I couldn’t help him. God, why do they have to involve kids with their stupid lives. They don’t want this. They never do. I never wanted it. I just- What’s the point of being a doctor if I can’t save lives?” You were just blubbering at this point, no real structure to your sentences.

After another moment of crying, you calmed down a little bit. Then you realized something. Marco hadn’t said anything. He was usually scolding you by now. That, and he would never pick you up like this. He knew how squirmy you sometimes got and he usually opted for dragging you. “Marco?” you asked, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

Hold on. Why were you this high off the ground? Marco wasn’t this tall. It couldn’t be Pops either, he was way taller. You tried to move, but felt the arm around your middle tighten. “Uh?” Panic was setting in. Were you being kidnapped, right now? You started squirming but to no avail. Unlike Marco, whoever was holding on to you seemed to have no trouble keeping you in place.

“Fucki-”

“Y/n.” You stopped as you heard a voice you hadn’t heard in a while. “Corazon?” Your eyes widened and you felt your face warm up. Of course he’s the one who found you like this. Of course. Of all people. Of all times. “Where…are you taking me?” Oh fuck, was he going to kill you? Had he actually been working with Doflamingo this whole time? A whole new wave of panic set in.

“To the hospital.” Oh. Well, that made sense. Leave it to your drunk state of mind to come up with insane scenarios. Besides, if he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done it already. It’s not like it was exactly hard to do when you were like this.

“Seems like the roles are reversed now, huh?” It seemed he was trying to lighten the mood. You blinked at his words, confused. “What do you mean?” Corazon chuckled softly. “Well, you’re usually the one stopping me from falling. Not the other way around. I’ve never seen you in such a state.” You felt your face set ablaze and you sputtered for a moment.

“Well, it doesn’t happen often,” you mumbled, yawning. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you. “So, don’t get used to it.” You thought for a moment. “Huh, I guess the roles really are reversed.” You yawned again, feeling your body going slack. “You saved me from falling,” your voice slowly became softer as you were drifting off. “You pointed the gun at me just like I did to you when we met.” 

You felt Corazon stop. “What?” You covered your mouth, tiredly giggling. “Oops.” Now delirium was setting in. With the lack of sleep and the alcohol coursing through your veins, you were reaching a point in which you were honestly surprised you were still awake.

Corazon gently set you down on the ground and looked at you. “What did you mean by that?” You blinked, looking at him with half lidded eyes. You were barely able to stay awake. You felt yourself sway a bit and he put his hands on your shoulders to hold you steady. “When the hell did you point a gun at me, y/n?” 

You yawned, shaking your head. “A long time ago, you don’t remember.” Corazon studied your face as he tried to figure out what you were telling him. Honestly, you weren’t even processing what you were saying right now. You just looked at him through droopy eyes and watched as his face slowly came to the realization. 

“You’re-”

“Y/N!” A voice cut through the cold night air. Your ears perked up and you turned around, almost toppling over as you did so had Corazon not been holding on to you.

“MARCO!” You threw your hands in the air and grinned widely. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d find me.” You giggled as he ran over to you. 

Marco was panting, glaring at you. He stopped, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. You were doctors not athletes. “It’s okay. I was safe. Corazon was watching over.” You patted his hand that was still on your arm to keep you steady. “Good guy.” The next word that came out of your mouth was something you didn't even realize you were saying and you didn't even process. "Handsome too, huh, Marco?"

You turned back to Marco, who was fully standing up now that he recovered for the most part. He opened his mouth and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re going to scold me later.” You were not a fan of his scoldings, but at least it wasn’t as if you had to hear them often. 

“Let’s go, then,” he said. “Pops is on the way with the truck.” 

As if on cue, a large truck pulled up next to the three of you. “Y/n!” A voice boomed out of the window. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You frowned, feeling bad for having worried the two of them. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t long before you were safely secured in the truck and you rolled down the window. “Thanks for helping me out there, Corazon,” you said with a sleepy smile, leaning against the side of the window.

He’d been silent since Marco showed up, not really knowing what to say. “What did you mean when you said you pointed a gun at me earlier?” You blinked at him slowly, trying to process his words.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” You were slowly starting to drift off now. “‘T all happened the night I met you…” You yawned one more time. “When I saved Law.” You stuck your arm out the window for him to see, pointing at the bullet wound scar. “Got this too when ‘Mingo’s guys jumped me. Which was unfair, we were trying to be all nice n’ stuff. Dad sent me in as an olive branch and I almost came out as swiss cheese.” You laughed as you rambled, pulling your arm back in and leaning against the side again.

“Time to go. Thanks, Corazon,” Marco said out his window before the truck took off, leaving the other man frozen in disbelief.

[icecreamcakez]

“Blood Dripping Out of My Mouth…” Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x M! Reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Word Count: 974

Warnings: Mild Blood, Biting, Fangs, Making Out, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Gay

A/N: coughing out some miguel o’hara fanfic to feed the simps ;3 btw the spanish might not sound correct because i know zero spanish and i used google translate

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You and Miguel have always been competitive at the Spider Society in your roles as Spider-Man. Sure, Miguel was the CEO of the Spider Society, but was he the best Spider-man? The answer is obviously hell no. You were confident in your abilities, and you were quite jealous of why he got to be the CEO and you had to be the lousy assistant under him. 

You were talking to Lyla, Miguel’s other assistant at hand, about the new serums in progress. She can tolerate Miguel way more than you since Miguel created her. You were interrupted by your gizmo watch vibrating suddenly in mid-conversation. The hologram of Miguel appears out of the watch in his signature Spider-Man Suit covered mostly in royal blue with small amounts of red in the design along with a digital red cape and red spikes from his wrists. He manages to somewhat make eye contact with you as a hologram. 

You scoff, annoyed by him. “What is it now, Miguel?”

“Office. Now.” Miguel responds in a low voice mildly angry and his hologram disappears from your watch.

Sheesh, this man has anger issues for no damn reason a lot of times. You begin walking down the lobby towards his office. You finally make your way into his office and there he is standing at a grand 6’9 tall with his magnificent pyramid torso build. His deep brown eyes narrow at the sight of you almost the color of sweet blackberries. His features were rich in Mexican-Irish genes. The broad man curses in Spanish tongue pinching his nose bridge. He goes back to making eye contact with you. Wait. There seems to be a small splash of…blood on his cheek? 

“You got something on your face, amigo.” (partner/friend) You say touching his cheek sending a warm sensation to Miguel.

He instantly softens to your soft flesh as you wipe the red liquid off his cheek, melting into your hand like soft clay waiting to be something more. Miguel snaps back into the situation and notices that he didn't clean the blood off his face. He pushes your hand away with his much bigger hand resisting being vulnerable with you.

“I need these documents of all the new spider-men and spider-women sorted alphabetically along with the older members,” Miguel says, locking his dark brown eyes with yours.

You sigh. “Miguel is such a pain in the ass…but he's kind of attractive. Whatever, stop thinking and work.” You say in your thoughts returning to your desk near his front office desk. You scatter the documents and begin sorting. Miguel is watching you closely, slightly blushing from his desk humming. Wasn’t he angry a minute ago? Twenty long minutes go by and you finish sorting the last document. Miguel smiles slightly revealing a fang.

“Done.” You say relieved looking up at Miguel who is now making his way towards you.

“Atta boy.” He conveys smugly knowing how to push your buttons.

“You’re welcome, Miggy~” You know he hates that stupid nickname you created for him.

He scoffs leaning over your desk and maintaining eye contact with you. Miguel speaks in a low and deep voice that sounds as sweet as nectarine.

“Can I give you thanks?”

You smile leaning closer, obviously being naive about what’s coming next from him.

“Sure, why not? I don’t even get paid to work here because it applies to my duty as Spider-Man,” you utter these words softly leaning close to hear what he has to say next.

Miguel leans in close over towards you with his stupid smirk painted on his perfect pink lips. God, he’s so pretty it pisses you off dwelling on his good looks. His lips inch slowly close to yours with each breath. Miguel’s hot breath touches your lips sending tingling sensations throughout your whole body like electricity to a pool of blue water. He finally closes the gap between you two with a soft and sweet kiss. He holds the kiss for a minute and releases it from you slowly making sure you both had your eyes locked on each other. Your face begins to redden realizing what happened.

“What…The…Fuck, Miguel?!” You spurt out blushing furiously. “I just kissed my boss, holy shit.” You say in your thoughts being shocked.

Miguel lets out a soft hearty laugh. He looks back up at you reaching his hand out while catching his breath and teary eye from laughing.

“Ven aquí, cariño…” (Come here, honey) Miguel says pulling you closer to him and forcing you to stand up from your desk chair into large muscular arms covered in his digital Spider-Man Suit.

He kisses you harder and more firmly pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues intertwine tasting each other’s sweetness. Miguel’s fangs brush your bottom lip while he holds onto the side of your neck. He bites gently on your bottom lip as he looks at you with your alluring eyes. He smiles still locked onto your full lip making eye contact with you, his eyes turning into a deep apple crimson.

“You’re so sweet mi amor…” (My love) Miguel says in a low seductive voice biting on your lip harder, drawing blood.

“Miguel…” You say as the blood slowly trails off your lip covering Miguel’s fangs.

“Aye, don’t worry I’ll clean it up.” He says smirking, beginning to lick your bottom lip with his warm tongue.

You blush slightly looking away yet still facing him. He finishes licking the blood off but decides not to stop, now trailing his tongue along the edges of your mouth teasingly.

“You’re going to pay for that pendejo.” (Dumbass) You say with a smug face looking up at Miguel’s sweet chiseled face slightly pulling away from your's to get a better look at you.

“Whatever you say, cariño,” He says with a hearty chuckle.

[owlxle]

The Infernal Therapist

Or: The Hazbin Hotel finally gets a fucking therapist on staff

This is something of a chapter zero for a series I'm hoping to write surrounding a Hazbin oc and their misadventures.

Words: 1,384

Warnings: None

~

It was a normal day in Hell. As normal as could be expected, that is.

There's a soft knock at the door, almost as if the demon behind it doesn't want to be heard.

Unfortunately for the poor sinner, one of the hotel staff opens the door and stares at them.

At least it's someone they're on good terms with.

"Ah. Husker, hello."

The drunkard's eyes widen in recognition. "Oh. It's you..."

"Unfortunately, yes, it's me."

Standing on the doorstep is a humanoid demon in a white lab coat and black turtleneck, his skin is tinged purple and his eyes are a much deeper shade of the same color. The demon's black hair frames their face and a pair of half-rim glasses sit on their nose.

"What'd'ya want, Doc?" Husk sighs.

"Is our... mutual friend around?"

The bartender sighs and opens the door a bit more, revealing an imposing, familiar figure staring directly into their soul with his constant large grin.

The newcomer tenses immediately.

"Doctor Haze! How good to see you again, my friend!"

"Alastor."

The two demons stare at each other as Husk slinks off, Alastor almost daring Haze to make a move.

"Al? Is there someone at the- oh! Hello!" The overexcited princess of Hell steps in front of Alastor to shake Haze's hand enthusiastically.

"Oh- Greetings, your highness."

"Just call me Charlie!" She insists, dragging the sinner into the hotel and to the lobby.

Haze looks around, trying to get a read on his surroundings.

Husk has returned to the bar where a tall, furry, white demon is flirting with him relentlessly.

A demon with grey skin, long, white hair, a missing eye, and an angelic spear(???) glares daggers at the doctor.

A snake-like demon appears to be hiding behind a couch, watching cautiously.

A small red blur Haze recognizes as Niffty darts around, barely sparing the newcomer a glance aside from a quick once-over to confirm that he is not, in fact, a "bad boy".

Without turning around, Haze knows The Radio Demon's current location.

Directly behind him.

Alastor's ambient static slowly intensifies, putting an uneasy feeling in the air.

Something that the princess- Charlie doesn't seem to notice as she nudges the doctor into the middle of the room.

"Okay, everyone! We have a visitor!" Charlie announces, waving everyone closer. "This is-!" She pauses. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name, mister...?"

Alastor cuts in before Haze has a chance to speak for himself.

"This, my dear, is Haze! An old friend of mine!"

"Mister Haze!"

The doctor shoots Alastor a glare, to which the Radio Demon responds with a knowing smile.

Charlie looks over at Haze, following his glare to the recipient. "Is something wrong?"

Alastor's grin grows slightly, daring Haze to correct the princess.

Watching this interaction, the spear-wielding demon speaks, her largely monotone voice harboring a touch of affection for Charlie. "Hon, maybe we should let him speak for himself."

"Oh! Sorry! I just got to excited and Alastor told us your name and-"

"Don't worry about it, your high-" He clears his throat. "Charlie."

"I'm Doctor Haze, but please, just call me Haze." He gives an awkward half-bow. "At your service."

"So the new guy has a title, huh? I've always liked guys with a bit more... experience~" The tall, furry demon says, his tone apparently meant to be seductive.

"...No thank you."

"Aw, come on, Doc! You look like the last time you got some was before they invented the fun stuff!"

"No thank you." Haze asserts, a bit more sternly.

"Your loss~!"

Now that he's moved closer, Haze can better make out this demon's features, wracking his brain for a name to put to the familiar face.

"Haze, this is Angel Dust, one of our residents." Charlie explains, smiling. "And over there", she gestures to the snake hiding behind the couch "is Sir Pentious! Our other resident!"

Pentious's hood flares, revealing four more eyes in addition to the two visible on his face and the third on his hat (which, by the way, appears to be alive).

"Hello, Doctor." Pentious says, politely as he slithers toward Haze. "I wassss just... doing reconnaissance! Yes!"

Haze nods, shaking the snake demon's outstretched hand hesitantly. "I can appreciate a strategic mind. It's a pleasure to meet you- all of you." He announces, expertly containing his true level of enthusiasm.

"We're not done yet!" Charlie says in a sing-song tone as she drags the poor sinner around the lobby.

"This is my girlfriend, Vaggie! She runs the hotel with me!"

Haze has a million questions about the grey-skinned demon. There's something so... wrong about her, like she doesn't belong in this setting. And that spear! He supposes its possible that Vaggie scavenged the weapon after an extermination, that would be the most logical answer, but Haze has always had a mind that runs rampant without his input.

Vaggie gives Haze a curt nod. "Hi." Ah, an individual of few words! Battle-hardened, maybe? He concludes that Vaggie was likely some kind of warrior on earth, maybe an older civilization? That would explain the confidence she exudes holding that spear... that would mean she's been down here quite a while, of course. She could even be older than Zestial!

...Back to the proverbial drawing board, then.

Charlie waves a hand in front of Haze's face, shaking him from his (admittedly long-winded) thoughts. "Haze? Are you alright??"

"Oh! Erm. Yes, sorry, I let myself get distracted for a bit too long." He laughs, hovering his hand over the back of his head in a stereotypical show of embarrassment. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vaggie." Haze offers a handshake but the demon just... stares. Glares, even.

"She takes a bit to warm up to new people, don't worry." Charlie explains, dragging Haze to yet another introduction. He hopes it's the final one.

"Hey again, doc~"

Angel Dust. How many arms does this demon have? Four seems excessive, but if he's a spider, he should have eight limbs total, leaving a pair unaccounted for! Why he's expecting any of this to make sense, he's not sure, but he'd certainly appreciate it if it did.

There's a familiarity about the spider's name... Angel Dust. One of his patients may have mentioned it...?

"Oh, I know that look." Angel smirks. "You know me from my work!"

"Gay pornos." Husk adds, from behind the bar.

Yes, it was definitely one of his patients that brought him up. Probably Travis. Seems up his alley.

"Oh, of course." Haze nods.

"You watch my stuff?"

That is a fair conclusion to come to, quite honestly. "Oh- um. Not me, one of my patients mentioned you a few times."

"So the title ain't just for showing off? You've got patients? What kinda doctor are you, anyway?" Angel seems genuinely curious. Haze can appreciate that.

"He's the lobotomy kind!" Alastor announces, making his presence known again after his ambient static faded into the background.

"That's barbaric, Alastor." Haze mutters.

"Oh, I'm just kidding! Haze here is the kind of doctor that talks at you!"

"That's a gross oversimplification..."

"I know!" Alastor's grin seems to grow wider for a moment. "You're hilarious when you're offended!"

"Great. Thanks. Appreciate it." The doctor says under his breath, trying to ignore the Radio Demon.

"He ain't wrong, though. That's what you do." Husk asserts before taking a long drink from his nondescript bottle of alcohol.

"I'm a psychologist. I have a small clinic in Pentagram City where I provide therapy for sinners. I've found that it's often beneficial for the damned to show vulnerability."

Charlie's eyes light up and Haze can practically hear her enthusiasm. Internally, the demonic doctor grins, externally, he smirks.

"That's why I'm here. I want to offer my assistance in the betterment of sinners."

"Really?" Charlie asks, bouncing in place.

Alastor's eye twitches, a subtle sign that he is... irritated, to say the least.

He's hilarious when he's offended.

"I don't know if I believe in this concept of 'redemption' you've been peddling, but in the end, we have the same goal. We both strive improve the lives of sinners." Haze extends a hand to Charlie, in a way reminiscent of Alastor, albeit with none of the danger in the air. "What do you say?"

[shoshiwrites]

Word WIP game!!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Tagged by @upontherisers. My word was ghoul. My current Jo/Bucky WIP is very short at the moment, and I shared most of it here already, I think? I decided to crack open Jo's BoB fic for this, the rewrite of When the War Came!👀 And oh boy, do I need to retype a current draft of this.

[G] Green bean casseroles aside, it wasn't like she'd been sitting around twiddling her thumbs before arriving in England — she'd been able to work in some weightier human interest stories amongst the Sunday dinner spreads and style tips, and a few short series on regional labor actions of which she was especially proud.  [H] He’d been her photographer a few times, too. He knew her, and Jo had the distinct impression that he would have liked to know her better, if she’d let him.  [O] Out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar figure make her way through the lobby and past the bar, towards their table. Katharine Palmer was dark-haired like Jo but several inches taller, with the bearing of someone who had grown up riding horses and taking tea at four. [U] Unthinkingly she brought the pencil tip to her lips before jotting down the usual information: names, ranks, hometowns, the more familiar nicknames.  [L] Lieutenant Speirs materialized a few minutes later, his identity evidenced by the look of sheer irritation on his face.

Tagging, with zero pressure of course — @floydmtalbert, @loveduringthewar, @noneedtoamputate, and @tortoisesshells. Your word is HEART.

[carrotsworld]

ditto - svt mingyu

pairings: alternate timeline mingyu x reader

inspired by the movie ditto!

“a dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lays down,” she started, browsing through the array of books they had at the grand library. “but i wish you to know you inspired it.” he finished.

i sighed in frustration, deleting the entire paragraph before slamming my laptop shut. inspiration was, well, hell these days. i had been dealing with a writer’s block for two whole days, just staring at the blank screen in front of me, unable to write a single sentence worthy enough for the chapter. writing has always been a hobby, a way to create a reality you desire or, in a way, a means to escape. but things get tough when you are slapped with hundreds of datelines for your webnovel with zero inspiration. deciding that a walk will do more good than harm, i grabbed my coat before shutting my apartment door and headed to the elevator. just as the doors were about close, a voice shouted, “hey, wait!” before putting their hand in between the elevator doors to prevent them from shutting. i quickly pressed the open button to hold the doors open, and i heard him mutter a soft “thank you” before he stepped into the elevator and the atmosphere went silent. i fiddled with my hands while waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby, the short trip somehow feeling twice as long as it should be. as soon as the elevator doors opened, the boy immediately dashed out, accidentally dropping his phone, giving me no chance to return it as he totally disappeared out of sight. i bent down to pick up the phone, only to find out that it was an old yellow flip phone. huh, weird. hardly anyone used flip phones nowadays. i opened the flip phone, only to find that it didn’t have a password, and scrolled through the phone’s contacts, clicking on the most recent contact, only to have the line ringing for a few minutes before cutting off. i sighed, deciding to put off searching for the phone’s owner until later and getting back to my initial schedule. i stepped out into the chilly night, slipping the yellow flip phone into my coat pocket and started making my way to the nearest coffee shop.

“one hot matcha latte to-go, please.” i placed my order with the cashier before paying and sat down at the window seat while waiting for my drink. the bells of the cafe rang softly, signalling the presence of another customer. the newcomer was dressed in all-black, the contrast only being his brown overcoat. he ordered what seem to be an americano, giving the cashier a small smile as if to say, “fighting! for the rest of your shift.” one of the waiters decided to serve the drink to my table due to me and the man in black being the only customers in the cafe. i muttered a soft, “thank you”, deciding to sit for awhile before pulling out the yellow flip phone to find more information about its owner. mingyu, mingyu, mingyu. that was the last 10 of his recent calls, with the phone book having only that one contact that wouldn’t pick up. there were no photos at all to give a tiny clue to who it belonged to. the phone was in a way, totally empty except for the contact log. the phone suddenly flashed a warning! low battery! sign, making me bang my head against the table in frustration, the sound resonating through the room. the customer and the cashier looked at me worriedly, as if i had just grew a lump on my head. i smiled at them sheepishly, bowing at them before getting up and exiting the cafe.

the man’s eyes subtly widened when he heard the familiar sound of the opening of an old flip phone, one that his dongsaeng has. he had found it odd as the phone was already out of production, and it was not easy to find. but he found it weirder as who uses a flip phone nowadays? unless you were his annoying but adorable dongsaeng who always loved to bicker with him. he turned around, seeing that your eyebrows were scrunched in frustration while scrolling through your phone, and he wondered what could be running through that mind of yours. he shrugged, noting that everyone had their own problems, even himself. he took one last glance at the girl sitting by the window before walking out the doors of the café.

“do you have a charger for this phone model?” i asked the staff at the counter, passing him the old flip phone at hand. he inspected the phone before going into the store room and emerging with a small box. “this should be it.” he said, sliding the box over the counter. “i haven’t seen this phone since the 90’s.” “how much is it?” i asked, fumbling through my bag for my wallet. “don’t worry, it’s on the house. we’ve got no use for it anymore anyways.” he said. “thank you.” i said, bowing slightly before making my way back to my apartment building.

i shrugged off my sweater, plugging the phone into its charger before deciding to go for a warm shower. the short walk had helped cleared out my writer’s block, but the lingering feeling of the weird encounter was still fresh in my mind. i made myself a packet of cup noodles, ready to pull an all nighter for the remaining 7,000 word count. i absentmindedly looked at the time on my phone, sighing when i saw that i only had three hours left before the deadline. i found myself a comfortable position on the kitchen island, and within the next fifteen words, the sound of the old flip phone ringing filled the once quiet atmosphere.

“dino-ya! i thought i told you not to call me during practice!” the man on the other line exclaimed, making me wince at the sudden sound. “uhh hello? i think your friend dino dropped his phone?” i questioned more than stated. “oh… hello. i apologise for my sudden outburst. aish, that maknae is always so clumsy.” he said, sounding apologetic. “it’s alright.” i assured. “do you know who i can return the phone to? an address or something? i’m sorry to bother you. it’s just that you’re the only contact in his phone.” “would it be convenient for you to meet at hangang park this saturday?” he asked. i checked my schedule, noting that it was empty for the day. “yup, i’m free this sat. i will meet you at the picnic area in front of han river at 1 in the afternoon?” i asked. he hummed in confirmation. “great. see you then, mingyu.” i said, ready to press the end button. “wait- i didn’t get your name!” he called out. “it’s y/n.” i stated. “it’s a nice name. see you this saturday, y/n!”

saturday came by in a breeze. soon, it was already fifty minutes past twelve and i had arrived at our agreed spot. the weather was windy to say the least, with dark clouds looming over the city of seoul, i prayed that mingyu would arrive before it started pouring. the yellow phone was clutched tightly in my hands, ready to be parted ways soon. i checked my watch. 1:17pm. i looked around, trying to spot a man in a brown jacket, around 6ft tall, to no avail. i shrugged it off, thinking that he might be caught in some sort of traffic on the way. 1:25pm. i asked some people who kinda fitted the description midway, but none of them was the one i was looking for. 1:45pm. it started pouring. mingyu was nowhere in sight. i quickly seek shelter at a nearby ice cream shop as it was raining cats and dogs. i tried contacting him, only to find out that there wasn’t any service available on the yellow phone. it was as if the gods were telling me to give up and go home. i too tried calling his number using my personal phone, only to be met with the automated voice telling me that the number was no longer in service. 2:05pm. i decided to head home.

the phone line finally connected on the second ring. “where were you?” i asked, exasperated that i got caught in the rain. “where were you?” he asked accusingly. “what do you mean where was i? i was there since twelve fifty and i was waiting there until it started pouring!” i exclaimed, feeling absurd that he was accusing me instead. “it rained?” he asked, confusion laced in his voice before turning back to that accusatory tone of his. “are you pulling my leg now? are you a sasaeng?” “what? sasaeng? i don’t even know who you are!” i scoffed, annoyed at his antics. “i was there since three quarters past twelve and you weren’t there! also, it was super hot the entire time. it didn’t rain a single drop at all! plus, there were so many people attending the food festival!” he exclaimed. my anger slowly subsided, my brain processing his words once again. “food festival?” i asked puzzled. there wasn’t any food festival recently, the last one being in 2021 which i attended with my friends. “yeah! the 2021 global food festival! you didn’t know about it?” he asked, voice softening. i did know about it, the only problem is that it happened two years ago.

mingyu surprisingly took it better than i expected, except for asking for some proofs that i’m not a sasaeng. he told me he was the kim mingyu from seventeen, thus he was double confirming or as he called it, protocol. “if you’re from the future, name me seventeen’s next comeback album.” he said. “attaca.” i answered. “rock with you is the title track. though i gotta say crush is one of my favourites.” “woah.. cool.” he said sounding convinced. “it’s weird how you know our next comeback when it’s like top secret in pledis.” he paused, contemplating. “tell me something else from the future!” it was cute how mingyu sounded like an excited puppy getting a treat. “booseoksoon will finally get a comeback in early 2023!” i exclaimed, brimming with excitement. “seriously?” he asked astonished. “it took them five years for one comeback?” “yup. it was super worth it though.” i answered. the sound of the phone ringing could be heard through the line. he sighed. “i wish we could continue this conversation longer but my manager is calling me right now and would kill me if i didn’t pick up his phone call again. talk to you tomorrow?” “sure, talk to you tomorrow.” i answered before he ended the call.

“hyung is literally so weird nowadays.” dino said to jeonghan who was snacking on some korean fried chicken mingyu ordered. “who? mingyu?” jeonghan asked. dino nodded. dino found it weird that mingyu, who never said no to food, had left the fried chicken that he ordered outside (which they were eating right now), as if the thought slipped his mind. mingyu had recently always been on this old flip phone that he found in an antique store a few weeks ago, seemingly talking to someone. he had been distant the past week, making excuses as to why he stayed up late when he didn’t need to, though his hyung was extremely bad at lying. jeonghan, who too found mingyu strange lately, decided to shrug it off as it seemed mingyu was happier and less anxious about the comeback than before. jeonghan did notice though, how mingyu sometimes would mutter under his breath, and whatever he said came true.

“apparently there’s a seventeen event for the entire week next month.” i told mingyu through the phone while cooking some kimchi stew. “are you planning to go?” he asked. “i might..it sounds pretty interesting. but most probably when it isn’t so crowded.” i answered. “how’s your comeback preparations going?” i asked. “it’s going great. we just finished learning the choreo for rock with you, and we’re going on some variety shows the next week. so i would say our schedules are pretty packed.” he replied, the sound of the other seventeen members talking could be heard in the background. “i apologise if the background is too noisy. they’re currently in the midst of discussing or arguing over what to eat.” he apologised. “it’s alright. come to think about it, there’s this really good steamboat restaurant near the hybe building called 불고기 불냄비. you should be able to search it up on google if you guys are up for some steamboat.” i told him. the line went silent for a short while, before he unmuted his mic, “thanks y/n! they surprisingly agreed on steamboat. i’ll get going now. enjoy your dinner!”

it rained. heavily. i was on my way home after running some errands. with the absence of an umbrella, i held my bag close to my chest, debating whether or not to run across the street to the bus stop. deciding to just sprint the short 10 meters, i quickly held my bag over my head, trying to shield myself with the little protection my bag could give me. i muttered quick apologies as i accidentally bumped into few people on the way. after stepping afoot into the bus, i plopped down on the nearest seat before letting out a sigh of relief.

“how would we even know if we met each other?” i asked y/n, smacking dino’s hand that was trying to sneak away some cookie dough. she pondered for awhile before saying, “i was thinking of getting a keychain or something matching.” “is there anything particular that you like?” i asked, putting the tray of unbaked cookies into the oven. “definitely cats.” she replied. “there’s actually this cat keychain that i take everywhere with me. the funny thing is that it’s name is snowy when it’s entirely black. what about you? do you have anything you cherish?” she questioned. “my seventeen ring.” i answered. “i never once took it off. it was a promise made with the the members, to be as one, a family.”

“i’m sorry for disturbing, but have you seen an old yellow flip phone?….it’s not there? ….okay, thank you for your help.” i put down the phone after calling the convenience store i was at hours ago. i ruffled through my bag once again, trying to find the yellow flip phone to no avail. when the rain finally stopped, i scoured the places i had been to, checking the lost and found section in the bus station and retracing my steps for the day. my efforts were proved fruitless when i came back to my apartment empty handed and restless.

it’s funny, isn’t it? fate. from one day picking up a random vintage phone, suddenly connecting with someone from the past (a famous one at that) and losing it all at once. and yet, here i am, walking down seventeen street on the last day of the event, the beautiful blown-up carat bong shining in all its glory, the full moon signalling the oncoming presence of summer. the street had been lighted up with their official rose quartz and serenity colours, making it all the more breathtaking than it already was. seventeen’s discography was amazing, from their debut song, adore u, to their newest release from their sub-unit booseoksoon. i was admiring the words carats wrote for them on their message wall, glad that their fans had always supported them every step of the way.

i walked to the exit, deciding to make my way back as it was already way past twelve. “excuse me, miss! i think you dropped something!” i stopped and turned to face a man dressed entirely in black, in his hand holding a cat keychain, his voice sounding oddly familiar. his eyes scanned the small tag on the keychain, eyes subtly widening before saying, “i think it’s finally fitting to say, nice to meet you, y/n.”

[mo0nsrose]

Take 2 as I made this blog at 2 Am one morning and then dipped but I love the idea so here I am again. new Pinned post

ｎｅｗ ｂｌｏｇ

ɪɴᴅɪᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴄ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ/ɢᴀɴɢ ʀᴘ , ᴍᴇᴅɪᴜᴍ/ʟᴏᴡ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ. ꜱɪᴅᴇ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʙᴀᴄᴋ, ᴍᴜɴ ɪꜱ 25+. ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ, ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ 18+ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ 20+ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ꜱᴡɪɴɢɪɴɢ ʙʏ. ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʜɪɢʜʟʏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ.

Muses/ Opens/plots/memes/

All muses are open to any /all plots this is all just the baseline of what my blog is when it comes to connections/ect.

please leave me alone if you are a female muse blog only OR you're just using me for my guys , i have ZERO issues playing my men I love playing them more than my gals sometimes but my girlies love to play and deserve their time,if thats a problem take it up with HR.

if any of this tickles your fancy please give me a little heart and I will come say hello ! , I also so rp on discord!

My rules are pretty basic, don't be a dick, don't god mod and most importantly have fun with our muses! lets world build , send memes, muse post, literally anything , I love someone who is just as obsessed with our characters as I.

WELCOME TO HOTEL MOONROSE

Home of some of Seattles *scariest* humans. What started off in 1923 as a lonely older woman taking kids in off the streets , giving them shelter, food and water, she cared for each and every one of them as her own, well those little kids didn't stay kids for long and once old lady Bertha Moonrose passed away in their early teens those teen boys turned to the only thing they knew would help them, the local gangs. Some of them wanted to keep the Hotel open to the public as they got older taking it over as a front as they became more involved into the g@ng life, over the years the Moonrose family has grown has become to what it is now. Jonny Moonrose a great -great grandchild of one of the original children had struck a deal with the local police, they keep quiet when it comes to Hotel Moonrose.

HOTEL MOONROSE INCLUDES:

A bar connected to the main lobby

pool

snack bar and drinks

pool table

full game arcade

if you know the rigt people to ask it also includes

strip club

a certain hotel room where someone is always selling

escort services.

membership

[yuristarwars]

Just finished Grand Budapest Hotel, here are my thoughts (spoilers ahead):

I love the sense of broken whimsy throughout the entirety of it. It feels like Gustave is still that amazing lobby boy, but the world is changing around him, and he doesn’t want it to. A direct dichotomy to Zero, who sadly has to accept the world as it is because he has had to since he was a child. Their chemistry is absolutely palpable every time they’re on screen together and the wonderfully bright side characters add an extra air of personality.

Partway through, I was very upset and sure that the movie would portray the very obvious Nazi-metaphor characters and government as sympathetic, but I’m really glad that it ended tragically.

Funnily enough, it ended with M. Gustave still thinking that the world was the same, that it couldn’t change, but it did, and it was too late for him to accept it